Dylan's Magic Teeth

I took Dylan to a chain dental office yesterday to get his cavities filled.
I mistakenly thought this was the only place that took his insurance. It turns out I was wrong. But I digress...

I had already cancelled and rescheduled the appointment once, I was hesitant to bring him back because I didn't like the place on our first visit.
Note to self: Listen to that voice.

I even considered cancelling yesterday's appointment because it was Bob's birthday, and we were all hanging out together having fun. But, I thought, he has to get these cavities filled. It just had to be done.

When we got there the office wasn't quite as crowded and noisy as it was the first time. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad?

They took Dylan back to the exam room to take x-rays. When they called me back to show me the x-rays they had once again left him alone in the exam room. I didn't like that at all. He is four. He has no common sense. He can't be left alone with sharp objects. Duh.

Then the alleged dentist showed me his x-ray and pointed out what they'd do. Her accent was so thick (Eastern European? Central American?) I couldn't quite understand everything she said. I heard "this cavity might be bad" blah blah blah "might have to do a baby root canal" blah blah blah "caps"

Here is where my brain started twitching. She kept saying they wouldn't KNOW if they'd have to do the baby root canal until they started, but it felt like she was saying here is the easiest way to do this, and we're going to do it. I should have said, no caps. NO CAPS. But I didn't. What do I know about dentistry?

Then they wrapped Dylan up in a papoose and I could see him starting to freak out. I should have ended it then. But I didn't. It had to be done. He can't walk around with cavities!

They told me to go back and wait in the waiting room. I already felt uneasy and called my husband to tell him I was not feeling good about this. But what could we do? It had to be done.

About 45 minutes later I saw them walking him down the hallway. How was he walking around? Weren't they supposed to have knocked him out? Turns out, they did NOT knock him out.
When he saw me, he burst into hysterical tears. I knelt down and hugged him, he was soaked with sweat. Hair all wet, clothes damp. Poor kid must have really been upset. I looked at his face. It was sprinkled with tiny red dots around his eyes and cheeks and down his neck. Broken capillaries.
He was yelling and crying so badly, he'd broken about a thousand capillaries.
What the hell did they do to him?

Then I looked at his teeth.
Three shiny silver teeth, all right up front.
They turned my son into a cyborg.

He was still hysterical. So with no aftercare instructions or medication, we left. I drove straight home in tears.
Once home I gave him a dosage of children's Motrin and made him sit and relax. Then I lost it.

His hysterical tears transferred to me. WHY didn't I trust my feelings? WHY did I let him go through with this? WHY did they put SILVER CAPS on his FRONT TEETH?

I spent the rest of the night at some level of that self-flagellating anger and despair. I barely ate dinner, didn't even consider a piece of birthday cake. I cried on and off.
I went online and printed out a list of every dentist in the county that takes our insurance vowing that I'd get this put right to save my soul from the sure damnation it was facing for allowing such a crime against my child.

Dylan came up to me said "I love you mom" Aw, I love you too baby. "But...you shouldn't have taken me to the dentist."

Whaaaaaah!

He started calling them his "magic teeth" because as he said they just put water on his old teeth and they turned silver. Uh, yeah.

I cried myself to sleep and had torturous dreams of plumbers wrenches and toothless grins.

This morning I woke up and started calling dentists.
I'm still waiting to hear back from one to see if she can replace the silver caps with the white ones. It seems like it's possible if not probable. It HAS to be. I can't have a cyborg baby with magic teeth.

Ok Obama, you've confused me now....

Maybe, just maybe, one has nothing to do with the other but I'll be damned if I don't sense a conflict here.....

On Friday....

VAN NUYS, Calif., Jan. 23 /PRNewswire-USNewswire/ -- Congressman Howard L. Berman (D-CA), chairman of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, said today President Obama's executive order repealing the Mexico City Policy is an important step in protecting women's rights and in improving health care worldwide.


"The President's action rights a wrong-headed policy that for eight years has hindered people in developing countries from having access to the contraceptives necessary to prevent unintended pregnancies, abortions, and the transmission of sexually transmitted infections, including HIV/AIDS," Berman said.

And then on Tuesday...

WASHINGTON – House Democrats are likely to jettison family planning funds for the low-income from an $825 billion economic stimulus bill, officials said late Monday, following a personal appeal from President Barack Obama at a time the administration is courting Republican critics of the legislation.

Several officials said a final decision was expected on Tuesday, coinciding with Obama's scheduled visit to the Capitol for separate meetings with House and Senate Republicans.

The provision has emerged as a point of contention among Republicans, who criticize it as an example of wasteful spending that would neither create jobs nor otherwise improve the economy.

Under the provision, states no longer would be required to obtain federal permission to offer family planning services — including contraceptives — under Medicaid, the health program for the low-income.

So what the fuck does that mean?!?!? It's totally cool if people in OTHER countries kill their babies but we won't pay for it here?!?!?
I mean, what the hell?

I'm not a proponent of abortion in any way. I find people who champion abortion as some great woman's rights cause to be sick and misguided. Yay, let's kill our babies! Um no, not for me.
I'm a fan of taking responsibility for your actions and if you're having unprotected sex and you happen to get pregnant, well damn, didn't you see that coming?!?

I just can't fathom how the Obama administration can justify this...on the one hand approving funds for worldwide abortions and then block access to funding for ostensibly the same services for AMERICAN women....

I'm flabbergasted.
I mean, I'd rather noone get abortions at all...but to say, ok yes the US taxpayer will pay for your Nigerian abortion, but sorry Mary from Kansas...you're having that American bastard....

What the ever loving fuck!?!?!?

Gah! Enough already!

I've got a headache from all the bickering going on around here. The kids bickering, the hubs and I bickering....tension is running high in the house lately. I don't know WHAT is causing it, but I've had it.

It just seems like everyone is extra prickly this week, myself included. I wish we could all just simmer down.

On the up side, Bob took the big kids to the store to get cat food and Ben has laid down for a nap.
Ahhhhh, uninterrupted workout time! Yes, that's right, I'm going to channel my frustrations into a good workout instead of snuggling up with some comfort food. Yay me!

This morning I saw a commercial for Hidden Valley Ranch, the one where the ice cream trucks are converted to veggie trucks but everything is like dunked in ranch. At the end there is a shot of someone pouring like half a bottle of ranch over a salad and it actually made me sick. Progress.

Off to hit the workout now!

Good day, bad day....same day

I have high hopes for Dylan yet...even after his stellar performance today at Elizabeth's classroom.

We go in to drop her off. Dylan insists that we stay for lunch, even though he and I both know that he's not going to eat the food they serve and will instead raise a ruckus.
I reluctantly agree.

It was a terrible mistake on my part.

Before lunchtime the kids all play for awhile and get settled into the class routine. As I sat at the little lunch table with Benjamin, Dylan was playing with the other kids.

Suddenly I hear a kid cry out "That kid did this!" and make a choking gesture around his throat.

Oy vey. I know it's my kid.

The teacher asks, "who did that?"

"That little guy!"

So, I round up the little guy, aka Dylan, and we start to leave. He throws himself on the floor. I pick him up (still holding Ben) and we leave.

He's hysterical as I explain to him that it's NOT OK to choke your friends and you can't hurt your friends and then stay and have lunch with the kids. It's just not done.

He was just wailing about lunch and not listening to me at all.

By the time we got home, he was totally zonked. Dead asleep.
He slept in the car for about 45 minutes, then woke up crying and came inside, crying, and I asked him if he wanted to take a bath and he cried and said "yesssss"

But before that, I put him up on the potty and told him to pee. He cried and said he couldn't, but then MIRACLE OF MIRACLES!!! He did!!!!

I was overjoyed! I congratulated him and he stopped crying for 2.4 seconds. Then I put him in the tub where he cried for 15 minutes instead of getting washed up. Sigh.

Good day, bad day....
Bad day, good day....

Tales from the Playland...and other tales...

Dylan tried to have lunch with the kids at Elizabeth's school yesterday but they were having bean burritos and he almost had an aneurysm instead.
None of my kids are very keen on the Mexican food, least of all burritos. They can tolerate tortillas and might munch on a quesadilla, but they shun tacos, enchiladas and salsa. They don't even like my special secret recipe guacamole which I make fresh from scratch. They're strange.

After his rather unflattering display of temper, I thought it was best if Dylan left the classroom. So we went to McDonalds for lunch. Burritos are gross, but fried up nuggets of chicken are delicious.
Of course, we went to the McDonalds that has a Playland. And of course there were little jerkoff kids playing there with their jerkoff moms doing their very best to NOT supervise them at all.

McDonalds is promoting the new Madagascar movie right now, and you get a plastic animal toy with your Happy Meal. Dylan got a funny penguin. These jerkoff kids each got the zebra.
As Dylan went to join them in playing the bad kids were taking turns throwing their toys up the slide of the Playland. I cautioned Dylan that if he were to even CONSIDER throwing his toy, I'd take it away from him and we've leave McDonalds immediately.
He never even dared to dream of throwing that toy. These other kids though...

Every five minutes or so one of the jerkoff moms would snap to reality and realize that she had just been listening to five minutes of her jerkoff kid hucking a plastic toy up a plastic slide. Quite loud.

"Do not throw that toy!" the mom would yell...then go back to her very interesting conversation...which was actually not that interesting at all. Yes, I eavesdropped. Ben is not a great lunch companion. Not much to say that one.

Anyway. The kids would stop throwing the toys for about 2 seconds, then start again, and five minutes later...you get the point.
I was getting pretty freaking irritated. And I was getting a headache from the damn racket!

Then...I hear my son crying. OH HELL NO! It's on!
I go over there and Dylan is crying "No no! Don't hurt me! I'm just Dylan!"

And the little jerkoff kid has the zebra in his hand, arm cocked back, ready to throw it at my son's head. Again.
OH HELL TO THE NO!

I said "Hey! That's not very nice. You shouldn't be throwing your toys around."

As I brought Dylan back to the table one of the moms came over to her kid and said "That not nice, someone could get hurt."

Uh, someone DID get hurt you dumb idiot.
Of course, as soon as the mom walked away, the kids resumed throwing the toys. Little bastards.

I was about two minutes away from punching one of those kids or one of their moms, so we left McDonalds and headed back to Elizabeth's school.

I parked at the library and we walked around the block and up the hill to her school...this is because one of the girls in her class asked me yesterday morning if I had another baby in my belly.

Whah! I seriously wanted to cry.

Anyway...we picked up Elizabeth and were walking back to the car. I asked Dylan...

"How do you spell your name?"
"My name is Dylan! I'm Dylan!"
"Yeah, I know, but how do you spell Dylan?"

Dylan shouted "P-O-I-S!"

"No buddy. D-Y-L-A-N."
He repeated the letters after me.

"That spells Dylan. How do you spell Dylan?"

He shouted "P-O-I-S! P-O-I-S!!"

"Whatever."

The more I think about this....

....the more mad I get!!

I just got off the phone with the ENTs office because they needed a good talking to...

Rewind...

Yesterday afternoon it occurred to me that we had not been given any prescriptions. No antibiotics, no pain medication...nothing.
Our discharge paperwork says we should give Elizabeth alternating doses of Motrin and Tylenol every two hours (pretty standard kid dosing for high fevers). I figured, they must have filled her IV with antibiotics during the surgery so she doesn't need any now.
You know how sometimes you can get a shot of crazy potent antibiotics and save yourself the 10 days of nasty medicine...

Anyway. Not satisfied with my own explanation, I called the surgery department at the hospital to have the nurse look in Elizabeth's chart and tell me if they did or did not give her antibiotics.
They did NOT.
Then the nurse (who was otherwise wonderful post-op) told me that she didn't think the doctor regularly prescribed antibiotics to his patients post-op and that he definitely did NOT prescribe narcotic pain relief to children. But, she also said that I should call HIS office to make sure since the prescriptions would have been called in from there ahead of the surgery.

Of course, I did that.
The gal at the ENTs office said that YES they HAD called in prescriptionSSSS for Elizabeth the day before her surgery. I said thanks and asked Bob to pick them up for us.
He came home with a GIANT bottle of amoxicillan and another even bigger bottle of Tylenol WITH CODEINE <=== THIS IS A NARCOTIC PAINKILLER PRESCRIBED TO MY CHILD! That nurse was totally full of shit.

I was miffed at first, then ruffled, progressing to annoyed, angered and finally downright spitting mad!
I called up the ENTs office again this morning and explained the situation to them. How I thought it was potentially dangerous for the post-surgical nurse to discharge patients with incomplete prescription information AND to later tell patients that antibiotic prescriptions following tonsillectomy are not routine. Uh, that is just stupid.
If I was less informed about medicine and illness, I may have just signed off on that nurse's explanation and NEVER GOTTEN MY CHILD ON ANTIBIOTICS FOLLOWING SURGERY!!

That is so, so very dangerous. Especially when INFECTION is like the No. 1 post-operative complication associated with this type of surgery. Hello! The wounds are inside your mouth! The dirtiest place on Earth!

Anyway, I believe I adequately conveyed my dismay to the gals at the ENTs office who said they would be getting in touch with the surgical staff at the hospital to let them know that YES antibiotics are prescribed following ENT surgery (ya dumb hos) <= My addition.
I made a point to name names also and told them exactly which nurse gave us completely incorrect and dangerous information. Sorry broad. Maybe you should think before you talk??

I feel very bad for those parents who also had their kids in for surgery that morning, at least four other kids, who may NOT have been as proactive as I was and made sure that they knew EXACTLY what was going on post-operatively.

The surgery staff is supposed to call today to check in on her progress and you can be damn sure that I will give them a good stern talking to as well.
I'm no shrinking wallflower by any means and I certainly won't back down when it comes to my kids' health and wellbeing.

I'm also planning to inform our regular pediatrician about his since his office proffered the referral in the first place. Dr. B is awesome, a great advocate for kids and parents and I know he would be very upset to know that pediatric surgery patients are being discharged from surgery with inadequate post-op instructions.

I should mention that Dr. B took care of Dylan during his RSV hospitalization (which resulted in us being transferred because of the stupid uninformed staff at our local hospital). When he found out what had transpired to cause the staff to call for our transfer to the pediatric hospital he was INCENSED and held a meeting with the staff to correct the mistake. He then changed his policy to admitting pediatric RSV patients straight into the ICU where the nurses are less weenie-rific.

Good lord, even after getting all this out, I am still SO STEAMING MAD. Like I want to go slap a ho mad. Grr.

Dylan's Well Check!

He's now 18 months old.

Incredible!
His well check was this week.
Here are his stats:

Height: 32 inches - between 25th and 50th percentile
Weight: 26.8 lbs - between 50th and 75th percentile
Head: 50 cm - between 90th and 95th percentile

The doc and I had a nice discussion about Dylan's budding bad temper. He gets frustrated and lashes out, tipping over chairs, smacking whoever has vexed him, throwing himself to the floor in a huge fit.
Doc said the frustration was normal, but the hitting was not cool. Dylan now gets time-outs when he hits. We stick him in his crib and let him cool off. It seems to be working!
After just two days (and only three time-outs) I think he's getting the message. He got mad at me last night and instead of hauling off and smacking me, he walked over, put his hand on my arm and gently pushed me. Then he looked at me with a face that said: "That is TOTALLY allowed! Not a time-outtable offense at all!"

So he's getting the picture.

On an interesting note. I had Elizabeth jump up on the scale to weigh herself, for comparison with Dylan. She weighed a little over 31 pounds, so they are not even 5 pounds apart in weight.
Crazy!