My mom is here visiting for her spring break.
Wednesday night she was not feeling good and went to bed early. Before 8 pm.
Then yesterday she seemed much better. She went to Elizabeth's school for the day and watched the kids while I went out to karaoke last night.
It must have been too much because the poor girl woke up today sooo sick!
I took all the kids out of the house so she could get a good nap. It didn't work. She was having trouble catching her breath so she went down to the Urgent Care.
Turns out she's got bronchitis. So sad.
Now we're not sure WHEN she'll be able to travel back home, since she has to drive NINE hours to get there.
Poor Nani!
Showing posts with label sick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sick. Show all posts
Friday, April 17, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Ears
Monday morning Elizabeth informed me that her ear hurt "so so so so so bad"
She also said she had a headache. To me, she did not feel feverish so I asked her...
"Do you want to go to the doctor?"
"Yes!"
"Even if you have to get a shot, you still want to go?"
"Yes! It huuuuuuuurts!!"
With the recent history of ear infections in our house, I took this complaint very seriously. Even though Monday was supposed to be our day to stay home and do nothing, I bundled up all three kids and we went to the Urgent Care instead.
Now, I gotta say, one of the advantages to living in BFE Nowhere is that there is hardly ever any wait at Urgent Care. This was the case on Monday, which was a blessing, since Dylan was crazy, Ben was crabby and Elizabeth well, she mysteriously was cured of her terrible ear pain and was running around the waiting room with her brother. Weird.
We got back into the exam room fairly quickly. The kids immediately started fighting over who would get to sit where. This happens every time we go to the doctors office. See, they have those really fun rolling chairs. Both kids want desperately to sit on the rolling chair. They are very dangerous.
I've established a "Noone sits on the rolling chair except the doctor!" policy. So instead they fight over who gets to spin the rolling chair.
I try to stop them, but I lose all my energy and instead I just go to my happy place.
So, the PA comes in to check out her ears. Surprise! They're so jammed with earwax he can't even see the eardrum!
Two very nice nurses come in and execute a fantastic earwax irrigation technique which sent two huge chunks of goo flowing right out of Elizabeth's ears. One giant chunk for each tiny ear.
Gross.
But neat.
I couldn't resist looking at the wax chunks. About the size of an apple seed. Sick!
Then with the pathway clear, the PA was able to see that yes, there's a slight infection in the right ear. Another surprise!
RX: Antibiotics
Official DX:
Impacted cerumen
Otalgia
Otisis Media
Sounds so much more serious than slight ear infection huh?
She also said she had a headache. To me, she did not feel feverish so I asked her...
"Do you want to go to the doctor?"
"Yes!"
"Even if you have to get a shot, you still want to go?"
"Yes! It huuuuuuuurts!!"
With the recent history of ear infections in our house, I took this complaint very seriously. Even though Monday was supposed to be our day to stay home and do nothing, I bundled up all three kids and we went to the Urgent Care instead.
Now, I gotta say, one of the advantages to living in BFE Nowhere is that there is hardly ever any wait at Urgent Care. This was the case on Monday, which was a blessing, since Dylan was crazy, Ben was crabby and Elizabeth well, she mysteriously was cured of her terrible ear pain and was running around the waiting room with her brother. Weird.
We got back into the exam room fairly quickly. The kids immediately started fighting over who would get to sit where. This happens every time we go to the doctors office. See, they have those really fun rolling chairs. Both kids want desperately to sit on the rolling chair. They are very dangerous.
I've established a "Noone sits on the rolling chair except the doctor!" policy. So instead they fight over who gets to spin the rolling chair.
I try to stop them, but I lose all my energy and instead I just go to my happy place.
So, the PA comes in to check out her ears. Surprise! They're so jammed with earwax he can't even see the eardrum!
Two very nice nurses come in and execute a fantastic earwax irrigation technique which sent two huge chunks of goo flowing right out of Elizabeth's ears. One giant chunk for each tiny ear.
Gross.
But neat.
I couldn't resist looking at the wax chunks. About the size of an apple seed. Sick!
Then with the pathway clear, the PA was able to see that yes, there's a slight infection in the right ear. Another surprise!
RX: Antibiotics
Official DX:
Impacted cerumen
Otalgia
Otisis Media
Sounds so much more serious than slight ear infection huh?
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
I am falling apart....UPDATED!
UPDATE: Good lord, karma has bitchslapped me in both ears!
So, I go into town, drop Elizabeth off at school and head over to the Urgent Care place as my ear is throbbing.
Within the hour the diagnosis is in...double ear infection. OR, and I quote the doctor, "That is the worst ear infection I have seen all day."
In fact, my LEFT ear was the one bothering me, the doc looked into my RIGHT ear first and didn't say a word, but rather made this noise "Eeeeeek" then said "and that's the good one?"
Yeah....karma. See, remember how on Christmas Eve Benny had a double ear infection and I thought he was just teething and Bob ended up taking him into the doctor's office where they probably made the same noise...."eeeeek!"
The doc prescribed me a Z-pack and mucinex (and THAT took TWO HOURS TO FILL AT WALMART!!!!) and that was that.
While WAITING for the damn medicine it got so late in the afternoon that I had to leave Walmart to pick up Elizabeth from school and then go back. That is like a 10 mile trip from Walmart to school and back. Grrr.
As I'm running out of Walmart (after having spent almost TWO HOURS THERE WAITING ALREADY!!!!) my right ear starts to feel like it is a balloon filling up with air and then the stabbing pain began on THAT side of my head as well.
Now both my ears feel like they are stuffed full of cotton. FAN-FRICKING-TASTIC!!
So I go get Elizabeth, rush back to the Walmart, grab the prescription and get the hell home. The whole drive my head is pounding and I very much want to crash the car into a tree to REDUCE my pain.
We got home, I shuffled everyone inside, Ben is WAILING for food and killing me at the same time.
I grab four ibuprofen and a glass of milk, because the first pill of the z-pack is burning a hole in my stomach by now, and sit on the couch with Ben and feed him.
Once he's done, he goes down for a nap and I grabbed a hot wet towel and pressed it against the now throbbing RIGHT ear....it instantly feels better. Just for good measure, I poured myself a double shot of whiskey and slugged it back ASAP.
Goooooood lord...that was about a half hour ago, and the searing agony is now down to a dull ache, though everything still sounds like I am underwater. Fabulous.
And that's my day...omitting the part where I got into a screaming match with a dipshit construction worker (not Bob) on the side of the road because he was parked IN THE STREET!! IN THE TWO LANE TWISTY STREET!!! Yeah, I left there and called the sheriff out to deal with them. Ass faces.
********End of Update*********
My cold has traveled into dangerous territory. I now have a wicked nasty ear pain and I can't hear at all out of my left ear, constant nausea and a dry hacking cough. All this added to the stuffed up nose, headache and all over malaise.
I'm a mess. Bob is at work, and I have to get my act together somehow to face the day and take care of the children and drive Elizabeth to school and not die in the process. I really just want to take Nyquil and go to bed, but those selfish days are over. I have to suffer now, because I'm a mother. Feh.
Also, last night Dylan was jumping on my bed and hit himself in the face. Now HE has a black eye. A real nice shiner.
So yeah, we're quite a pair.
So, I go into town, drop Elizabeth off at school and head over to the Urgent Care place as my ear is throbbing.
Within the hour the diagnosis is in...double ear infection. OR, and I quote the doctor, "That is the worst ear infection I have seen all day."
In fact, my LEFT ear was the one bothering me, the doc looked into my RIGHT ear first and didn't say a word, but rather made this noise "Eeeeeek" then said "and that's the good one?"
Yeah....karma. See, remember how on Christmas Eve Benny had a double ear infection and I thought he was just teething and Bob ended up taking him into the doctor's office where they probably made the same noise...."eeeeek!"
The doc prescribed me a Z-pack and mucinex (and THAT took TWO HOURS TO FILL AT WALMART!!!!) and that was that.
While WAITING for the damn medicine it got so late in the afternoon that I had to leave Walmart to pick up Elizabeth from school and then go back. That is like a 10 mile trip from Walmart to school and back. Grrr.
As I'm running out of Walmart (after having spent almost TWO HOURS THERE WAITING ALREADY!!!!) my right ear starts to feel like it is a balloon filling up with air and then the stabbing pain began on THAT side of my head as well.
Now both my ears feel like they are stuffed full of cotton. FAN-FRICKING-TASTIC!!
So I go get Elizabeth, rush back to the Walmart, grab the prescription and get the hell home. The whole drive my head is pounding and I very much want to crash the car into a tree to REDUCE my pain.
We got home, I shuffled everyone inside, Ben is WAILING for food and killing me at the same time.
I grab four ibuprofen and a glass of milk, because the first pill of the z-pack is burning a hole in my stomach by now, and sit on the couch with Ben and feed him.
Once he's done, he goes down for a nap and I grabbed a hot wet towel and pressed it against the now throbbing RIGHT ear....it instantly feels better. Just for good measure, I poured myself a double shot of whiskey and slugged it back ASAP.
Goooooood lord...that was about a half hour ago, and the searing agony is now down to a dull ache, though everything still sounds like I am underwater. Fabulous.
And that's my day...omitting the part where I got into a screaming match with a dipshit construction worker (not Bob) on the side of the road because he was parked IN THE STREET!! IN THE TWO LANE TWISTY STREET!!! Yeah, I left there and called the sheriff out to deal with them. Ass faces.
********End of Update*********
My cold has traveled into dangerous territory. I now have a wicked nasty ear pain and I can't hear at all out of my left ear, constant nausea and a dry hacking cough. All this added to the stuffed up nose, headache and all over malaise.
I'm a mess. Bob is at work, and I have to get my act together somehow to face the day and take care of the children and drive Elizabeth to school and not die in the process. I really just want to take Nyquil and go to bed, but those selfish days are over. I have to suffer now, because I'm a mother. Feh.
Also, last night Dylan was jumping on my bed and hit himself in the face. Now HE has a black eye. A real nice shiner.
So yeah, we're quite a pair.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Could I BE More Sick?
The day before my mom left my throat felt scratchy.
I took Emergen-C and drank some tea and hoped for the best.
The day my mom left my nose was stuffy.
I took some DayQuil, more Emergen-C, drank some tea and hoped for the best.
The day after my mom left I was full-blown ill.
Elizabeth put on all her doctor stuff (lab coat and all) and examined me.
She took my temperature.
"Yep. You have a favor."
She took my blood pressure.
"You're sick!"
She gave me a shot of something in my arm.
"I have just the medicine for this."
I asked her, "so what do you think I have doc?"
"You have diabetes mixed with ill."
"Diabetes?!?"
"Yes. Lots of them, going all through your body, mixing with the ill."
I took Emergen-C and drank some tea and hoped for the best.
The day my mom left my nose was stuffy.
I took some DayQuil, more Emergen-C, drank some tea and hoped for the best.
The day after my mom left I was full-blown ill.
Elizabeth put on all her doctor stuff (lab coat and all) and examined me.
She took my temperature.
"Yep. You have a favor."
She took my blood pressure.
"You're sick!"
She gave me a shot of something in my arm.
"I have just the medicine for this."
I asked her, "so what do you think I have doc?"
"You have diabetes mixed with ill."
"Diabetes?!?"
"Yes. Lots of them, going all through your body, mixing with the ill."
Friday, December 05, 2008
everything's coming up, period.
I kept Elizabeth out of school yesterday, she was NOT allowed to go because of the poop-o-rama continuing in the morning. But we had to run a bunch of errands yesterday, so I was out and about with the baby and two ticking poo timebombs.
Much to my surprise, noone had any incidents while we were in town.
Yep. No incidents in town at all. When we got home, Dylan demanded a cup of milk and despite my better instincts and attempts to redirect him to more appropriate fare, I let him have a SMALL glass of milk and crackers for dinner.
Both sick kids were asleep by 8:30. When the baby woke up to eat at 11:30, all was quiet on the western front. All the fronts were quiet.
I went back to sleep with a false sense of security thinking that we'd make it through a whole day with no poop catastrophes!
A loud wail pierced the fog of sleep surrounding me at around 3 am. It was Dylan.
Bob went to usher him out of the inky darkness of the living room. I was still half asleep and hoped to just slip back into my dream. Sadly, that wasn't to be.
"Did you poop your pants?" Bob asked a still sobbing Dylan.
"Yeeeeesssss!" he replied.
Bob shot me a pleading look and feigned nausea at the thought of changing a poop-o-rama diaper. I can't say I blame him. I wish I had a sucker like me to pass off these tasks to.
I got out of bed, fished a diaper and wipes out of the diaper bag and returned to the living room, now lit up. At least Bob had the courtesy to prepare my operating suite.
I knelt down beside Dylan who was crying and had a diaper soaked with poop-o-rama. What I was about to endure would be hideous.
Then a weird noise gurgled in Dylan's throat.
"Are you gonna throw up?" I asked him.
He shook his head no, then spewed forth an impressive fountain of puke. The puke fountain barely missed soaking me, landing on the carpet instead.
"Oh GOD! Take him into the bathroom!!" I yelled to Bob.
Bob picked him up and made it just in time to the safety of the bathroom floor. As I got a towel to clean the puke off the carpet I heard a heave, a splash and then my husband gagging. I got in there just in time to see pukes #3 and #4. Poor Dylan. He has terrible puking aim and I think he blames the toilet for making him puke as he would not go near enough to the potty to make being in the bathroom any advantage for him, or us.
Once Dylan was done, Bob mopped up the floor and tossed the towel directly into the washing machine, gagging the whole time. That was the end of his involvement. He gagged for about two more minutes despite being two rooms away.
I handled the rest of the mess, changing Dylan and cleaning his face. The baby woke up around then, so I washed my hands with boiling hot water and rubbed santizer from fingertips to elbows and went to handle his needs while Bob put Dylan to bed (with a towel underneath him and all around him). The ordeal was over.
I got back into bed with the whole gang. Bob on one edge, Elizabeth on the other and Dylan and I wedged in between.
"How does your belly feel?" I asked him.
"Great," he croaked.
I told him to shut his eyes and go back to sleep. He did. Then he farted.
Bob popped up off his pillow like a prairie dog. I swear he has post traumatic stress from all this poop and vomit.
"What was that?" he said.
"He farted Bob, you need to calm down."
Soon after we all fell asleep and continued to snooze without further issues until the morning.
When Dylan woke up, he came out to the living room and said...
"I can't like milk. Milk makes me sick."
Much to my surprise, noone had any incidents while we were in town.
Yep. No incidents in town at all. When we got home, Dylan demanded a cup of milk and despite my better instincts and attempts to redirect him to more appropriate fare, I let him have a SMALL glass of milk and crackers for dinner.
Both sick kids were asleep by 8:30. When the baby woke up to eat at 11:30, all was quiet on the western front. All the fronts were quiet.
I went back to sleep with a false sense of security thinking that we'd make it through a whole day with no poop catastrophes!
A loud wail pierced the fog of sleep surrounding me at around 3 am. It was Dylan.
Bob went to usher him out of the inky darkness of the living room. I was still half asleep and hoped to just slip back into my dream. Sadly, that wasn't to be.
"Did you poop your pants?" Bob asked a still sobbing Dylan.
"Yeeeeesssss!" he replied.
Bob shot me a pleading look and feigned nausea at the thought of changing a poop-o-rama diaper. I can't say I blame him. I wish I had a sucker like me to pass off these tasks to.
I got out of bed, fished a diaper and wipes out of the diaper bag and returned to the living room, now lit up. At least Bob had the courtesy to prepare my operating suite.
I knelt down beside Dylan who was crying and had a diaper soaked with poop-o-rama. What I was about to endure would be hideous.
Then a weird noise gurgled in Dylan's throat.
"Are you gonna throw up?" I asked him.
He shook his head no, then spewed forth an impressive fountain of puke. The puke fountain barely missed soaking me, landing on the carpet instead.
"Oh GOD! Take him into the bathroom!!" I yelled to Bob.
Bob picked him up and made it just in time to the safety of the bathroom floor. As I got a towel to clean the puke off the carpet I heard a heave, a splash and then my husband gagging. I got in there just in time to see pukes #3 and #4. Poor Dylan. He has terrible puking aim and I think he blames the toilet for making him puke as he would not go near enough to the potty to make being in the bathroom any advantage for him, or us.
Once Dylan was done, Bob mopped up the floor and tossed the towel directly into the washing machine, gagging the whole time. That was the end of his involvement. He gagged for about two more minutes despite being two rooms away.
I handled the rest of the mess, changing Dylan and cleaning his face. The baby woke up around then, so I washed my hands with boiling hot water and rubbed santizer from fingertips to elbows and went to handle his needs while Bob put Dylan to bed (with a towel underneath him and all around him). The ordeal was over.
I got back into bed with the whole gang. Bob on one edge, Elizabeth on the other and Dylan and I wedged in between.
"How does your belly feel?" I asked him.
"Great," he croaked.
I told him to shut his eyes and go back to sleep. He did. Then he farted.
Bob popped up off his pillow like a prairie dog. I swear he has post traumatic stress from all this poop and vomit.
"What was that?" he said.
"He farted Bob, you need to calm down."
Soon after we all fell asleep and continued to snooze without further issues until the morning.
When Dylan woke up, he came out to the living room and said...
"I can't like milk. Milk makes me sick."
Thursday, December 04, 2008
everything's coming up poo
Literally.
The big kids have been battling a fierce case of poop-o-rama. That's a medical term.
It all started when Dylan puked twice on Sunday night. Then he seemed fine. Elizabeth seemed fine too, until she went to school and poop-o-rama happened.
They actually called me to go pick her up because she was that horribly damaged.
And she was in borrowed clothes. Yikes.
So I brought her home and poop-o-rama continued that evening and the next day, when her brother Dylan decided to join in the fun.
Tuesday
We stayed home from school and tried to recover. Though she puked once in the morning, Elizabeth seemed better, Dylan got worse.
Wednesday
Elizabeth went to school and did fine.
Dylan had poop-o-rama all day and I had to change him in the Walmart parking lot.
Then...
We went to pick Elizabeth up from school and Dylan pooed poop-o-rama all in his pull up soaking his pants and running into his shoes. Ugh.
We fled the scene. I was changing Dylan (wearing my biohazard outfit) in the school parking lot when Elizabeth had to run into the school to use the bathroom.
Then she came out and requested baby wipes.
"For what?" I said, handing her two wipes.
"To wipe my potty!" she said, trying to shove the wipes down her jeans.
"No no no! Go back to the bathroom for that!"
And off she went again, returning just a few minutes later WITH the poopy baby wipes in her hand. Egad.
I untied the biohazard bag of Dylan's hideous pull up and tossed in the poo wipes.
My lord.
It just got worse when we got home last night. Poop, poop, poop! Poop-o-rama! We used almost 10 pull ups in a day and a half. Poop everywhere.
Dylan's ass looked sunburnt.
Elizabeth spent hours sitting on the potty. Horrible.
We ended up having to give Dylan Tylenol for the butt pain. Poor little butt.
He fell asleep in the port-a-crib in our room. When he FINALLY woke up this morning around 9 am the stink was horrific! There was poop everywhere. I just bagged the entire contents of the port-a-crib, Dylan himself excluded, and loaded it into the washer and washed it all twice, in boiling hot water and tons of detergent.
Sick.
Then I changed Dylan into a fresh freshie (we call the pull ups freshies) and he promptly dropped a giant poop-o-rama into it.
I very nearly threw up.
That's when I decided to take them to the doctor. Unfortunately, there's nothing to be done but wait for the fun to be over.
Whoo.
The big kids have been battling a fierce case of poop-o-rama. That's a medical term.
It all started when Dylan puked twice on Sunday night. Then he seemed fine. Elizabeth seemed fine too, until she went to school and poop-o-rama happened.
They actually called me to go pick her up because she was that horribly damaged.
And she was in borrowed clothes. Yikes.
So I brought her home and poop-o-rama continued that evening and the next day, when her brother Dylan decided to join in the fun.
Tuesday
We stayed home from school and tried to recover. Though she puked once in the morning, Elizabeth seemed better, Dylan got worse.
Wednesday
Elizabeth went to school and did fine.
Dylan had poop-o-rama all day and I had to change him in the Walmart parking lot.
Then...
We went to pick Elizabeth up from school and Dylan pooed poop-o-rama all in his pull up soaking his pants and running into his shoes. Ugh.
We fled the scene. I was changing Dylan (wearing my biohazard outfit) in the school parking lot when Elizabeth had to run into the school to use the bathroom.
Then she came out and requested baby wipes.
"For what?" I said, handing her two wipes.
"To wipe my potty!" she said, trying to shove the wipes down her jeans.
"No no no! Go back to the bathroom for that!"
And off she went again, returning just a few minutes later WITH the poopy baby wipes in her hand. Egad.
I untied the biohazard bag of Dylan's hideous pull up and tossed in the poo wipes.
My lord.
It just got worse when we got home last night. Poop, poop, poop! Poop-o-rama! We used almost 10 pull ups in a day and a half. Poop everywhere.
Dylan's ass looked sunburnt.
Elizabeth spent hours sitting on the potty. Horrible.
We ended up having to give Dylan Tylenol for the butt pain. Poor little butt.
He fell asleep in the port-a-crib in our room. When he FINALLY woke up this morning around 9 am the stink was horrific! There was poop everywhere. I just bagged the entire contents of the port-a-crib, Dylan himself excluded, and loaded it into the washer and washed it all twice, in boiling hot water and tons of detergent.
Sick.
Then I changed Dylan into a fresh freshie (we call the pull ups freshies) and he promptly dropped a giant poop-o-rama into it.
I very nearly threw up.
That's when I decided to take them to the doctor. Unfortunately, there's nothing to be done but wait for the fun to be over.
Whoo.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
You're not dying, you just can't think of anything good to do
Ever since I told my mom that I couldn't go to kindergarten one day because sadly, I had been infected with malaria, my mom has called me a hypochondriac.
Whenever she does I just laugh and laugh...until the laughing dislodges what is assuredly a blood clot in my brain and gives me a headache. Then I lie down, for awhile, with the phone in my hand ready to dial 9-1-1 as the bright light gets closer and closer.....
Ahem...anyway...
Lately I've been getting more and more convinced that I am indeed a raging hypochondriac and not actually dying from a rare and incurable disease, though it is still likely that I am.
The last month or two I've been getting these terrible nosebleeds. I mean, like crazy gusher nosebleeds. Like, I need to sit down because I feel woozy sort of nosebleeds.
Thus far I've been able to control them easily at home, indicating that there is no underlying severe medical problem causing the nosebleeds...or is there??
I just got my second nosebleed of the day and immediately (after I stopped bleeding of course) Googled the condition.
After reading all the home care tips and probable causes for my seemingly endless string of nosebleeds (dry air!) I decided that despite the reassuring text on the internet, I am probably afflicted with the least likely and most horrible cause of the common nosebleed: nasopharyngeal cancer of course!!
And I decided this with a click, like this:
Hey, if I'm going out, I want to go out big!
I'm such a silly beeyotch.
Whenever she does I just laugh and laugh...until the laughing dislodges what is assuredly a blood clot in my brain and gives me a headache. Then I lie down, for awhile, with the phone in my hand ready to dial 9-1-1 as the bright light gets closer and closer.....
Ahem...anyway...
Lately I've been getting more and more convinced that I am indeed a raging hypochondriac and not actually dying from a rare and incurable disease, though it is still likely that I am.
The last month or two I've been getting these terrible nosebleeds. I mean, like crazy gusher nosebleeds. Like, I need to sit down because I feel woozy sort of nosebleeds.
Thus far I've been able to control them easily at home, indicating that there is no underlying severe medical problem causing the nosebleeds...or is there??
I just got my second nosebleed of the day and immediately (after I stopped bleeding of course) Googled the condition.
After reading all the home care tips and probable causes for my seemingly endless string of nosebleeds (dry air!) I decided that despite the reassuring text on the internet, I am probably afflicted with the least likely and most horrible cause of the common nosebleed: nasopharyngeal cancer of course!!
And I decided this with a click, like this:
Hmmm, seems that it's just the dry air and air conditioning that is causing these...oh wait, what's this? Cancer?!? Click click. Oh yes, that's it. That must be it.
Hey, if I'm going out, I want to go out big!
I'm such a silly beeyotch.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Thrush, thrush...
Isn't it fun to be a mom!?!?
We've got thrush!
Ugh.
It's painful and ugly. It causes white milky looking patches inside Ben's mouth that can spread and become really painful for him. It can even cause nasty diaper rash if you let it get too far!
For me all the pain is localized in my nipples. Fun! Nothing like hot pink, itchy nipples that shoot pain while they shoot milk! Whooooo hooo!
So we went to the doctor this morning and we each got "painted" with Gentian violet, an ages old cure for thrush. Of course, Gentian VIOLET is so named because of its vibrant purple hue.
Yes...I have purple nippys.
Since I won't post a pic of my tender ladybits...here is a pic of Benjamin just LOVING every minute of thrush. You can imagine, if you must, what my breast-a-sez look like...
We are expected to be purple for a few days, perhaps four or five. Joy!
We've got thrush!
Ugh.
It's painful and ugly. It causes white milky looking patches inside Ben's mouth that can spread and become really painful for him. It can even cause nasty diaper rash if you let it get too far!
For me all the pain is localized in my nipples. Fun! Nothing like hot pink, itchy nipples that shoot pain while they shoot milk! Whooooo hooo!
So we went to the doctor this morning and we each got "painted" with Gentian violet, an ages old cure for thrush. Of course, Gentian VIOLET is so named because of its vibrant purple hue.
Yes...I have purple nippys.
Since I won't post a pic of my tender ladybits...here is a pic of Benjamin just LOVING every minute of thrush. You can imagine, if you must, what my breast-a-sez look like...
We are expected to be purple for a few days, perhaps four or five. Joy!
Saturday, June 21, 2008
I feel awful
I suspect it is the combination of 90+ degree heat, inside and outside my house, and the fact that I'm not drinking enough water and that I'm trying to wrangle three children (one of whom has transformed me into a milk factory) which has made me feel so illin' these last two days.
First off, I totally overdid my activity level yesterday morning when I completely cleared out Dylan's closet, relocated all his toy shelves and all his toys into the closet, cleaned Elizabeth's entire room, moved her toddler bed into Dylan's room, moved all Dylan's furniture around, moved Elizabeth's futon bed and rearranged her closet. Also I vacuumed about 400 times.
All that took about four hours. By the end of it all I was wrung out. I don't know what wild hair got into me, but it was something that I felt I had to do.
Now Dylan's room is set up for TWO occupants so whenever we decide that Ben needs to be out of our bedroom, Dylan's room is ready to go. All we need is another dresser in there and they're all set.
Elizabeth's room is also looking much better. Less toys, more floor space. She also needs a new dresser. I'm hoping these pieces of furniture will just show up in my yard someday, since I have no motivation and no cash to go out and get them myself.
Attention all individuals in the White Mountains with clothes dressers you don't need...bring them to me. I will accept them at no charge to you, or me.
Bob had Friday off and spent the morning helping out on a side job with our aforementioned jobless tenant. When he came home I was laying on the couch, half asleep, totally drained from my morning of insanity.
In the afternoon, while Bob played with the kids in the pool out back, I took a nap with Benjamin. A nap!?!
I never nap!
I woke up to eat hamburgers with the family then went back to snoozing. Apparently everyone was also worn out from the day because when I woke up I found out that Dylan and Elizabeth were both sleeping in Dylan's new-style room. Yay! It works!
Then Bob fell asleep.
I was awake and not wanting to nap anymore at this point so I took Benjamin out into the living room (where it was a nearly unbearable 86 degrees even WITH the fans on) and we watched the "America's Best Dance Crew" season two premiere episode.
An aside: Ugh. Stupid America! Why did you keep the stupid cheer girl crew and force the judges to eliminate Distorted X. They were fly.
Anyway. As we're watching ABDC, Elizabeth woke up, was crabby and all "talk to the hand" and went back to sleep on the kitchen floor. No lie.
Around this time is when I started feeling REAAAALLLY bad. Dizzy and crampy and ugh, not good. Dylan was still sleeping, thank goodness!
Elizabeth woke up and came to sit with me. I suspect I was not great company since I was dying of death.
Bob woke up from his nap and I took Ben with me back into the bedroom to lie down.
The A/C was on in there and it gave me chills. I took my temperature and I had a fever. My stomach was a fist. I wanted to just fall asleep and wake up healed but I couldn't because my body wanted to puke. A lot.
It turned out that I didn't puke at all, but it was just luck.
So there I was, with a fever shivering in bed, all cramped up, dying inside, dizzy and wanting to puke. Pretty!
Bob went outside to run the weedwhacker on the 18 feet tall weeds that had sprouted up seemingly overnight.
Elizabeth was sitting in bed with me. Ben was asleep in his bassinet. Shortly thereafter, Dylan arrived at my door looking hungover from sleep. The boy had just taken a four to five hour nap!
He, of course, had fallen asleep in underpants, so I had to change his pee-pants while I nursed Benjamin (who had just woken up) and tried very hard not to pass out or pass away.
Eventually, Bob came back inside and after he showered he got the kids ice cream and then Pied Pipered them out of my room so I could fall asleep. Phew. That left me with just baby Ben in the bassinet. I promptly fell asleep.
Every time Ben woke up to nurse last night, I was crampy and headachy. Not fun at 3 am. He also mysteriously was waking up wet every time. But a weird sort of wet. The bed protector and his clothes would be wet, but the outside of his diaper was dry. Where was the wetness coming from?!? I still don't know. I had to change him completely three times in the middle of the night. Not fun.
I woke up this morning at 7 and was still feeling nauseated and crampy. What the hell? I know I should be eating, but blech, I just don't wanna.
Bob thinks it was the macaroni salad we had with our hamburgers, but I think I got some kind of heat stroke or something. Food poisoning usually makes you retch straight away, right? Though I did have tomatoes on my hamburger. Egad! Salmonella!
It's almost lunchtime here now and my belly still hurts very badly. I'm not as near death as I was yesterday, but it's still early.
First off, I totally overdid my activity level yesterday morning when I completely cleared out Dylan's closet, relocated all his toy shelves and all his toys into the closet, cleaned Elizabeth's entire room, moved her toddler bed into Dylan's room, moved all Dylan's furniture around, moved Elizabeth's futon bed and rearranged her closet. Also I vacuumed about 400 times.
All that took about four hours. By the end of it all I was wrung out. I don't know what wild hair got into me, but it was something that I felt I had to do.
Now Dylan's room is set up for TWO occupants so whenever we decide that Ben needs to be out of our bedroom, Dylan's room is ready to go. All we need is another dresser in there and they're all set.
Elizabeth's room is also looking much better. Less toys, more floor space. She also needs a new dresser. I'm hoping these pieces of furniture will just show up in my yard someday, since I have no motivation and no cash to go out and get them myself.
Attention all individuals in the White Mountains with clothes dressers you don't need...bring them to me. I will accept them at no charge to you, or me.
Bob had Friday off and spent the morning helping out on a side job with our aforementioned jobless tenant. When he came home I was laying on the couch, half asleep, totally drained from my morning of insanity.
In the afternoon, while Bob played with the kids in the pool out back, I took a nap with Benjamin. A nap!?!
I never nap!
I woke up to eat hamburgers with the family then went back to snoozing. Apparently everyone was also worn out from the day because when I woke up I found out that Dylan and Elizabeth were both sleeping in Dylan's new-style room. Yay! It works!
Then Bob fell asleep.
I was awake and not wanting to nap anymore at this point so I took Benjamin out into the living room (where it was a nearly unbearable 86 degrees even WITH the fans on) and we watched the "America's Best Dance Crew" season two premiere episode.
An aside: Ugh. Stupid America! Why did you keep the stupid cheer girl crew and force the judges to eliminate Distorted X. They were fly.
Anyway. As we're watching ABDC, Elizabeth woke up, was crabby and all "talk to the hand" and went back to sleep on the kitchen floor. No lie.
Around this time is when I started feeling REAAAALLLY bad. Dizzy and crampy and ugh, not good. Dylan was still sleeping, thank goodness!
Elizabeth woke up and came to sit with me. I suspect I was not great company since I was dying of death.
Bob woke up from his nap and I took Ben with me back into the bedroom to lie down.
The A/C was on in there and it gave me chills. I took my temperature and I had a fever. My stomach was a fist. I wanted to just fall asleep and wake up healed but I couldn't because my body wanted to puke. A lot.
It turned out that I didn't puke at all, but it was just luck.
So there I was, with a fever shivering in bed, all cramped up, dying inside, dizzy and wanting to puke. Pretty!
Bob went outside to run the weedwhacker on the 18 feet tall weeds that had sprouted up seemingly overnight.
Elizabeth was sitting in bed with me. Ben was asleep in his bassinet. Shortly thereafter, Dylan arrived at my door looking hungover from sleep. The boy had just taken a four to five hour nap!
He, of course, had fallen asleep in underpants, so I had to change his pee-pants while I nursed Benjamin (who had just woken up) and tried very hard not to pass out or pass away.
Eventually, Bob came back inside and after he showered he got the kids ice cream and then Pied Pipered them out of my room so I could fall asleep. Phew. That left me with just baby Ben in the bassinet. I promptly fell asleep.
Every time Ben woke up to nurse last night, I was crampy and headachy. Not fun at 3 am. He also mysteriously was waking up wet every time. But a weird sort of wet. The bed protector and his clothes would be wet, but the outside of his diaper was dry. Where was the wetness coming from?!? I still don't know. I had to change him completely three times in the middle of the night. Not fun.
I woke up this morning at 7 and was still feeling nauseated and crampy. What the hell? I know I should be eating, but blech, I just don't wanna.
Bob thinks it was the macaroni salad we had with our hamburgers, but I think I got some kind of heat stroke or something. Food poisoning usually makes you retch straight away, right? Though I did have tomatoes on my hamburger. Egad! Salmonella!
It's almost lunchtime here now and my belly still hurts very badly. I'm not as near death as I was yesterday, but it's still early.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
I can't stands no more!
Saturday night was fun.
I had some lovely pain and pressure, with a side of Braxton-Hicks.
When it wouldn't get better from laying down and drinking water, I went to the hospital's OB department to get checked out.
After a couple of hours hooked up to monitors in a room the size of my closet, they set me free after a shot of Toradol to relax me muss-kells and told me to take it easy.
Good advice.
However.
Have you met The Destructo Twins?
And their father, the leader of the Darkness Squad?Their sole mission is to bring down chaos and mayhem upon my head.
In their arsenal of No-Good Tools they have such dastardly methods as Leave Garbage on Floor Everywhere, Eat Chips for Breakfast, Remove Every Book and Toy from Shelf Then Leave Room in Chaos Forevermore! Bwah ha ha!
Not to mention MY personal favorites, Dirty Dishes are Best Stashed Under My Bed and I Don't Even Remember When I Took One Bite of That Banana and Left it Under the Couch to Die.
Their father is also a master of All Bathroom Reading Materials are Best Stored in a Pile on the Floor and Why Shouldn't These Dirty Socks Mingle With the Clean Ones?
Gah!
No no. Relaxing is to invite the Devil himself in to play.
We can not do "relaxing"
Instead, I had four separate nervous breakdowns over the course of two days. Yay!
Efficiency!
I was indeed so crazed with insanity and overwhelmed with craposity that my mom was seriously considering coming out to my house just for the weekend to fold laundry and make me take a nap. No lie.
T'would be hard to do both though, since all the laundry is piled on my bed. But I digress...
After my fourth nervous breakdown last night, I washed a whole sink load of dishes and felt better and accomplished.
Of course, the Darkness Squad quickly assembled a dizzying array of plates, bowls, spoons and cups all in varying levels of filth to replace the dwindling pile I was working through. Love you guys!
It's really no surprise then that at midnight I woke up with stabbing, aching, ripping me in two pains in my lower back and belly.
I tried to go back to sleep, but HA! Pain would not yield to Exhaustion. Pain wins!
At 3:30 am I drove myself to the hospital, again, after three hours of pacing the floor, hoping for the pains to go away. False labor pains go AWAY when you walk around. The BOOKS say so.
Well, Pain does not yield to Books. Pain wins!
I got hooked up to some monitors. Told to drink a huge jug of water and left to writhe. Oh agony!
At least I got to play a game. It was called "Guess When You're Having a Contraction!"
I even got a little buzzer to push every time I thought I was having a contraction. I pushed the button seven times in 45 minutes. Remarkable!
My accuracy was not great, however, since I only had THREE contractions during that time. Boo.
My lovely parting gift...well, first, I didn't get to "part" AND I got 2 lovely liters of intravenous fluids AND a shot of terbutaline to kill the contractions.
It's not a trip to Hawaii, but it'll do.
I also got a fantastic invasive pelvic exam. Whoo ha, hoo ha! Cervix is remaining and I quote the nurse "high, thick and closed" kind of like Snoop Dogg's eyes. Boo yah!
I also apparently have a wonderful consolation prize of bladder infection which they attempted to blast away with some equally wonderful IV antibiotics. Bladder infection??!?! Who gets those!? I thought only swamp rats and homeless people and people who don't change out of their bathing suits fast enough after a swim. Eh, what do I know!
At around 8:30 am they discharged me and I came home on about 3 hours sleep to watch the children (tear apart the house) all day.
Yay!
It's not fair really. The other moms at the OB department get to take home a cute powdery baby after all that grief. All I got was a paper admonishing me to drink more fluids.
Bah.
I'm TIRED.
I swear, if Dylan tries to jump out the window today, I might just let him.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
So, this is it....
Ever been sick with a lingering, nagging cold for so long that you just finally give up and say, alright fine I guess this is just my life from now on. I'm just going to be that sick, hacking person on the bus forevermore.
That's me.
Except I don't ride the bus.
I've been sick with some sort of barbed cold virus for about two weeks now and I want to transfuse all of my bodily fluids in a radical attempt to flush it out.
The kids and Bob are also still afflicted with some form of sickie. Elizabeth has lingering pink eye, Dylan has a cough, Bob and I both have sinus infections and hacking coughs.
We're the Tuberculin Family!
Nah, but like that.
Last night Dylan woke up and escaped his crib at around 2 am ish...Bob brought him into bed with us (a bad idea) and Dylan hacked, kicked and scream-cried until Bob retired himself to the living room couch...aka the comfort cruise...aka it's not comfortable.
Finally Dylan fell asleep and joined the cacophony of his sister's phlegmy breathing. I swear, it was the emphysema ward in my room last night.
All moaning and groaning and hacking and rattling coughs.
Ugh.
Left alone with the children I had to fend for myself and protect my bed space! I actually moved from my side to the middle, then to Bob's side of the bed, just trying to keep some playing field for myself. No matter where I went there they were, feet in my back, breathing their hot germy breath on my face...ugh.
It was a deranged game of Twister.
Right foot in mommy's hair, left foot in mommy's rib! Now everyone COUGH! HACK! SNARFLE!!!!
Gah!
Not to mention the baby INSIDE!!!
Before bed last night, Elizabeth and I spent at least a half hour watching him kick the remote control off my belly with such ferocity. He's a dang mule!
Elizabeth just kept saying "This is awesome! This. Is. AWESOME!"
Yeah. Awesome.
In baby news...we've set the date for his birth. May 12!
Yay!
A finish line!
This will end our streak of single digit birthdays. I'm the first, Dylan the second, Bob the third and Elizabeth the ninth of our respective months.
Twelfth is cool though. Twelfth is cool.
Oh heck. I'd have this baby on the twenty-eleventh of Octvember if it meant a night of peaceful sleep.
Though, as you can see from the above words I've typed...that's NOT happening any time soon.
That's me.
Except I don't ride the bus.
I've been sick with some sort of barbed cold virus for about two weeks now and I want to transfuse all of my bodily fluids in a radical attempt to flush it out.
The kids and Bob are also still afflicted with some form of sickie. Elizabeth has lingering pink eye, Dylan has a cough, Bob and I both have sinus infections and hacking coughs.
We're the Tuberculin Family!
Nah, but like that.
Last night Dylan woke up and escaped his crib at around 2 am ish...Bob brought him into bed with us (a bad idea) and Dylan hacked, kicked and scream-cried until Bob retired himself to the living room couch...aka the comfort cruise...aka it's not comfortable.
Finally Dylan fell asleep and joined the cacophony of his sister's phlegmy breathing. I swear, it was the emphysema ward in my room last night.
All moaning and groaning and hacking and rattling coughs.
Ugh.
Left alone with the children I had to fend for myself and protect my bed space! I actually moved from my side to the middle, then to Bob's side of the bed, just trying to keep some playing field for myself. No matter where I went there they were, feet in my back, breathing their hot germy breath on my face...ugh.
It was a deranged game of Twister.
Right foot in mommy's hair, left foot in mommy's rib! Now everyone COUGH! HACK! SNARFLE!!!!
Gah!
Not to mention the baby INSIDE!!!
Before bed last night, Elizabeth and I spent at least a half hour watching him kick the remote control off my belly with such ferocity. He's a dang mule!
Elizabeth just kept saying "This is awesome! This. Is. AWESOME!"
Yeah. Awesome.
In baby news...we've set the date for his birth. May 12!
Yay!
A finish line!
This will end our streak of single digit birthdays. I'm the first, Dylan the second, Bob the third and Elizabeth the ninth of our respective months.
Twelfth is cool though. Twelfth is cool.
Oh heck. I'd have this baby on the twenty-eleventh of Octvember if it meant a night of peaceful sleep.
Though, as you can see from the above words I've typed...that's NOT happening any time soon.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Stresssssssssssssssssss
All this living is really taking its toll on me.
Stressing out babies, stressing out.
Last night I could NOT get to sleep at all. I tossed and turned for awhile in bed. Then got up and read Time Magazine. Then watched the Gauntlet III reunion show on MTV. Then watched "Jon and Kate Plus Eight" until almost 3 am on the couch. That show makes me feel simultaneously better about my life and totally inadequate and whiney.
Then I tossed and turned some more before I finally passed out in bed.
What was on my mind? Absolutely nothing. Just couldn't get to that tipping point of actually falling asleep.
I forgot the kids' TB test appointment at the county. Totally forgot.
Maybe I secretly don't want to know. Gotta reschedule that....
We've got a stack of bills sitting here, waiting to get paid...yeah...I'm slacking on that.
I haven't made dinner for these people who live with me since Easter Sunday when I made a ham and it was snubbed by the little people. I guess I felt subconciously (or conciously) offended and decided they could go fend for themselves.
Monday night we had a pizza. Tuesday I had a salad and the kids ate 50 yogurts all afternoon so they weren't hungry at all for dinner. Bob was though...he was mad.
Last night they all had a giant plate of chicken nuggets and I ate some of the leftover ham. It was good.
Tonight I am making a turkey. Maybe I can only pull off big giant meals lately? Who knows. I'm going crazy.
The baby is big enough now that EVERY move is rearranging my internal organs but still small enough that he's not cramped up in there yet. So he's swimming from stern to bow, so to speak, and making me queasy and uneasy. So sorry Chikezie.
On top of that I've got a raging sinus infection that migrated into my chest, giving me a lovely hacking cough that is OH SO PAINFUL.
Everytime I cough not only does it burn in my chest, but it also pulls every stretched out ligament surrounding my uterus which burns!!!!!!!!!! and SEARS!!!!!!!!!!!! and makes me want to cry. Sometimes I do.
Luckily I've taken a step back from my online custom item sales. Meaning, I'm not really selling to order anymore. You can't have it YOUR way at my BK Lounge anymore.
I'm only selling what I've already got made. So there. Take that.
I've only got one big order to finish and I have about three weeks to finish it up. I should be done by Sunday. Whoo! Nice and no pressure.
Then I have to make a charity raffle item and I'm done with my list of Things To Make for Store. Yay!
I actually just listed a bunch of new stuff, so if you're at all interested in anything cool you should at least go check it out. Preferably all at once, so I seem like a big deal. How about 1:37 pm exactly? Great! It's a date.
I still have to print out, sign and mail in our stupid federal tax form. Though, they already sent us our refund. How EXACTLY does that work? Where's my motivation?
I'll get to that. I just have to disconnect the internet from the computer that works, hook it up to the one that sort of works but has the printer software attached to it, then print out the form really fast before the computer that sort of works dies. Should take around 15 minutes. Just can't get myself to go there, yet.
Whatsoever I can safely pass off to Bob, I have done so. Bob = He who is in charge of driving around town and paying bills...All of our utilities are now local businesses so that's awesome...OH, except the aforementioned bullsh water bill...that's a horse of an entirely different color.
Bob is also in charge of turning in our health insurance paperwork and buying toilet paper. He is GREAT at that. I bought some milk at the Dollar General the other day and got a little rap on the knuckles for not checking the expiration date. March 22. On milk I bought on March 24. Eep.
So he can be in charge of milk purchases from now on as well.
At least I finally caught up on laundry yesterday! Whooo hooo! At least I don't have SIX Dylans trying to jump out windows and reverse climb trees (that means fall out of them) and rummaging through the fridge for the Sno-Cone juice which he would like to drink straight. Ew. And it's blue! Nice and tidy.
I think I'm done complaining now.
Yeah.
I'm done.
Stressing out babies, stressing out.
Last night I could NOT get to sleep at all. I tossed and turned for awhile in bed. Then got up and read Time Magazine. Then watched the Gauntlet III reunion show on MTV. Then watched "Jon and Kate Plus Eight" until almost 3 am on the couch. That show makes me feel simultaneously better about my life and totally inadequate and whiney.
Then I tossed and turned some more before I finally passed out in bed.
What was on my mind? Absolutely nothing. Just couldn't get to that tipping point of actually falling asleep.
I forgot the kids' TB test appointment at the county. Totally forgot.
Maybe I secretly don't want to know. Gotta reschedule that....
We've got a stack of bills sitting here, waiting to get paid...yeah...I'm slacking on that.
I haven't made dinner for these people who live with me since Easter Sunday when I made a ham and it was snubbed by the little people. I guess I felt subconciously (or conciously) offended and decided they could go fend for themselves.
Monday night we had a pizza. Tuesday I had a salad and the kids ate 50 yogurts all afternoon so they weren't hungry at all for dinner. Bob was though...he was mad.
Last night they all had a giant plate of chicken nuggets and I ate some of the leftover ham. It was good.
Tonight I am making a turkey. Maybe I can only pull off big giant meals lately? Who knows. I'm going crazy.
The baby is big enough now that EVERY move is rearranging my internal organs but still small enough that he's not cramped up in there yet. So he's swimming from stern to bow, so to speak, and making me queasy and uneasy. So sorry Chikezie.
On top of that I've got a raging sinus infection that migrated into my chest, giving me a lovely hacking cough that is OH SO PAINFUL.
Everytime I cough not only does it burn in my chest, but it also pulls every stretched out ligament surrounding my uterus which burns!!!!!!!!!! and SEARS!!!!!!!!!!!! and makes me want to cry. Sometimes I do.
Luckily I've taken a step back from my online custom item sales. Meaning, I'm not really selling to order anymore. You can't have it YOUR way at my BK Lounge anymore.
I'm only selling what I've already got made. So there. Take that.
I've only got one big order to finish and I have about three weeks to finish it up. I should be done by Sunday. Whoo! Nice and no pressure.
Then I have to make a charity raffle item and I'm done with my list of Things To Make for Store. Yay!
I actually just listed a bunch of new stuff, so if you're at all interested in anything cool you should at least go check it out. Preferably all at once, so I seem like a big deal. How about 1:37 pm exactly? Great! It's a date.
I still have to print out, sign and mail in our stupid federal tax form. Though, they already sent us our refund. How EXACTLY does that work? Where's my motivation?
I'll get to that. I just have to disconnect the internet from the computer that works, hook it up to the one that sort of works but has the printer software attached to it, then print out the form really fast before the computer that sort of works dies. Should take around 15 minutes. Just can't get myself to go there, yet.
Whatsoever I can safely pass off to Bob, I have done so. Bob = He who is in charge of driving around town and paying bills...All of our utilities are now local businesses so that's awesome...OH, except the aforementioned bullsh water bill...that's a horse of an entirely different color.
Bob is also in charge of turning in our health insurance paperwork and buying toilet paper. He is GREAT at that. I bought some milk at the Dollar General the other day and got a little rap on the knuckles for not checking the expiration date. March 22. On milk I bought on March 24. Eep.
So he can be in charge of milk purchases from now on as well.
At least I finally caught up on laundry yesterday! Whooo hooo! At least I don't have SIX Dylans trying to jump out windows and reverse climb trees (that means fall out of them) and rummaging through the fridge for the Sno-Cone juice which he would like to drink straight. Ew. And it's blue! Nice and tidy.
I think I'm done complaining now.
Yeah.
I'm done.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
What the heck else is going to happen!?!?!?
I don't know what Indian burial ground I've disturbed...but this is getting friggin ridiculous.
My OBs office called this morning and had me come in to get my TB test site evaluated.
Oh yes, it's definitely a positive test and I am now having to start a YEAR of medication to keep my latent and non-contagious infection from developing into active and transmittable TB infection.
Ooooh whoopee!
Dylan has a whopping case of double pinkeye, and despite his GHASTLY appearance, his rambunctiousness knows no end. I cannot manage him at this time, as I am thoroughly depleted of all energy.
I am worn out by stress and worry. I actually broke down in tears at his doctors appointment, then several times as we waited an hour for the doctor to make his 30 second appearance to diagnose Dylan (from across the room and without touching him) with pinkeye, which I had already done at 7:30 this morning and WHY don't they just give moms a prescription pad just for the basic drugs...antibiotics, pinkeye drops, cough medicine, I mean come on. That would save $80 billion a year. Give or take.
I am not only worn out, I am wrung out and hung out to dry.
I've broken down several times since we left the docs office. I am so utterly incapable of managing anything now that Bob offered to take on the task of picking up our medication.
Oh, and the whole family has to go to Holbrook (the county health department offices) to get TB tested and then possibly get on the same medication as I am...daily pills for a year...
Pain in the ass. But, better than getting killer TB.
Someone uplift me with a funny joke.
And please pray that I don't totally go insane.
And make me stop reading online about the horrors of TB and the medication used to prevent its development.
And send me some cake.
My OBs office called this morning and had me come in to get my TB test site evaluated.
Oh yes, it's definitely a positive test and I am now having to start a YEAR of medication to keep my latent and non-contagious infection from developing into active and transmittable TB infection.
Ooooh whoopee!
Dylan has a whopping case of double pinkeye, and despite his GHASTLY appearance, his rambunctiousness knows no end. I cannot manage him at this time, as I am thoroughly depleted of all energy.
I am worn out by stress and worry. I actually broke down in tears at his doctors appointment, then several times as we waited an hour for the doctor to make his 30 second appearance to diagnose Dylan (from across the room and without touching him) with pinkeye, which I had already done at 7:30 this morning and WHY don't they just give moms a prescription pad just for the basic drugs...antibiotics, pinkeye drops, cough medicine, I mean come on. That would save $80 billion a year. Give or take.
I am not only worn out, I am wrung out and hung out to dry.
I've broken down several times since we left the docs office. I am so utterly incapable of managing anything now that Bob offered to take on the task of picking up our medication.
Oh, and the whole family has to go to Holbrook (the county health department offices) to get TB tested and then possibly get on the same medication as I am...daily pills for a year...
Pain in the ass. But, better than getting killer TB.
Someone uplift me with a funny joke.
And please pray that I don't totally go insane.
And make me stop reading online about the horrors of TB and the medication used to prevent its development.
And send me some cake.
Friday, February 22, 2008
The date is set....
Next Wednesday will kick off a week-long string of events which will culminate in an early morning surgery appointment for Elizabeth's tonsillectomy/adenoidectomy.
March 5th is the date of the surgery. We have to check into the hospital at 6:30 am for a 7:30 am procedure.
At this point they are not anticipating that she will have to stay overnight, so I'm hoping we'll be out of there by early afternoon. It's a four to five hour recovery/observation period.
Of course, this means her surgery is four days before her fourth birthday, which will stink. But at least we already are planning for a big ice cream party! Sigh.
Next Wednesday she has to go in for pre-op blood work. Then it's the preregistration for the actual surgery next Friday (I think this will just involve me making a phone call...I hope!)
The Monday after the surgery she is scheduled for a four-year well-check, which I am considering rescheduling because Tuesday after that is the surgery follow-up. I'll have to call and see what the pediatrician's office thinks about moving the well-check a week or so.
Right now I'm not TOO worried. The date is still far enough away that I can pretend it's not out there. Watch for my anxiety meter to creep ever higher, however, as the gap between now and then closes.
In other news...
Dylan, my poor baby, seems to have caught my nasty head and chest cold just as I am seeming to get over it.
He woke up in sobbing, screaming tears this morning at 4 am ish and Bob brought him into our room to lay with us...by us I mean ME. Bob was ALLLLLL the way on the other side of the king size bed. Punk.
Remarkably, Dylan calmed down quickly and fell back to sleep while I rubbed his hair and ears. It was so nice to be able to baby him. He's such an independent fellow. He only wants cuddles when he's hurt or sick, and even then just for a minute or two. There's lots of mayhem to cause, can't let illness and injury get in the way of that!
After about a half hour of sweet slumber (I of course was awake the whole time) he started fussing a bit and changing positions, all while snoring like a grown man.
He had a bit of the snarfles too, but not sleep apnea like snarfles...more like all the snoring was dredging up sickie-goo snarfles.
That was probably way too gross for some of you childless folks...sorry. :) I tried to be mild.
By 5 am Dylan had usurped my pillow entirely and I removed myself to the living room where I started making dishcloths. They're hot.
Halfway through my second one I hear "Whah whah!" THUMP!!!
So I jumped up and went into the bedroom where Bob was holding Dylan, who was sobbing that no-sound cry that is just so heartbreaking. Elizabeth, who was ALSO sleeping in our bed last night, was sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes, hair all askew and looking totally pissed that her brother had the NERVE to fall out of bed and wake her up.
I mean really, what a cad!
Luckily for Dylan he landed on a basket full of yarn! Ha ha! No damage was done to boy or yarn.
He came out and sat with me in the living room while I finished the dishcloth and we watched Lilo and Stitch the cartoon. Which is stupid, but the kids like it.
Then the kids finally adjourned to Dylan's room (which is STILL CLEAN!) to watch more lame cartoons and attempt to wake up more fully.
It is now more than three hours later and they are wide awake, fully charged and ready to cause trouble. Just FYI.
About 45 minutes ago, Dylan demanded to take a bath. So BOTH kids (naturally) got a surprise bubble bath at around 7 am. Now he has very spiky hair, which is actually quite cute on him in a Jimmy Fallon sort of way.
Though we're not planning on going anywhere today, it's nice to know that if we HAD to they wouldn't be the smelliest kids out there.
And this is just live blogging at its very best.
At this precise moment, Elizabeth and Dylan are both yelling at the cat to jump down from his perch top the kitchen cabinets, where incidentally he is hiding FROM them.
"Get DOWN! NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW!!"
Ad nauseum.
When do they stop to breathe? Answer...never. I think kids breathe through their ears. There's no other explanation for the constant din erupting from their mouths.
March 5th is the date of the surgery. We have to check into the hospital at 6:30 am for a 7:30 am procedure.
At this point they are not anticipating that she will have to stay overnight, so I'm hoping we'll be out of there by early afternoon. It's a four to five hour recovery/observation period.
Of course, this means her surgery is four days before her fourth birthday, which will stink. But at least we already are planning for a big ice cream party! Sigh.
Next Wednesday she has to go in for pre-op blood work. Then it's the preregistration for the actual surgery next Friday (I think this will just involve me making a phone call...I hope!)
The Monday after the surgery she is scheduled for a four-year well-check, which I am considering rescheduling because Tuesday after that is the surgery follow-up. I'll have to call and see what the pediatrician's office thinks about moving the well-check a week or so.
Right now I'm not TOO worried. The date is still far enough away that I can pretend it's not out there. Watch for my anxiety meter to creep ever higher, however, as the gap between now and then closes.
In other news...
Dylan, my poor baby, seems to have caught my nasty head and chest cold just as I am seeming to get over it.
He woke up in sobbing, screaming tears this morning at 4 am ish and Bob brought him into our room to lay with us...by us I mean ME. Bob was ALLLLLL the way on the other side of the king size bed. Punk.
Remarkably, Dylan calmed down quickly and fell back to sleep while I rubbed his hair and ears. It was so nice to be able to baby him. He's such an independent fellow. He only wants cuddles when he's hurt or sick, and even then just for a minute or two. There's lots of mayhem to cause, can't let illness and injury get in the way of that!
After about a half hour of sweet slumber (I of course was awake the whole time) he started fussing a bit and changing positions, all while snoring like a grown man.
He had a bit of the snarfles too, but not sleep apnea like snarfles...more like all the snoring was dredging up sickie-goo snarfles.
That was probably way too gross for some of you childless folks...sorry. :) I tried to be mild.
By 5 am Dylan had usurped my pillow entirely and I removed myself to the living room where I started making dishcloths. They're hot.
Halfway through my second one I hear "Whah whah!" THUMP!!!
So I jumped up and went into the bedroom where Bob was holding Dylan, who was sobbing that no-sound cry that is just so heartbreaking. Elizabeth, who was ALSO sleeping in our bed last night, was sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes, hair all askew and looking totally pissed that her brother had the NERVE to fall out of bed and wake her up.
I mean really, what a cad!
Luckily for Dylan he landed on a basket full of yarn! Ha ha! No damage was done to boy or yarn.
He came out and sat with me in the living room while I finished the dishcloth and we watched Lilo and Stitch the cartoon. Which is stupid, but the kids like it.
Then the kids finally adjourned to Dylan's room (which is STILL CLEAN!) to watch more lame cartoons and attempt to wake up more fully.
It is now more than three hours later and they are wide awake, fully charged and ready to cause trouble. Just FYI.
About 45 minutes ago, Dylan demanded to take a bath. So BOTH kids (naturally) got a surprise bubble bath at around 7 am. Now he has very spiky hair, which is actually quite cute on him in a Jimmy Fallon sort of way.
Though we're not planning on going anywhere today, it's nice to know that if we HAD to they wouldn't be the smelliest kids out there.
And this is just live blogging at its very best.
At this precise moment, Elizabeth and Dylan are both yelling at the cat to jump down from his perch top the kitchen cabinets, where incidentally he is hiding FROM them.
"Get DOWN! NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW!!"
Ad nauseum.
When do they stop to breathe? Answer...never. I think kids breathe through their ears. There's no other explanation for the constant din erupting from their mouths.
Monday, February 18, 2008
I'm bringing sniffly back....yeah.
It's Oh'Dark Thirty in the morning and I've already been awake for an hour and a half with a sore throat.
I'm sick and miserable.
My doctor, Dr. Elizabeth, MD, has prescribed a cough drop and a cup of tea every two hours. Then she charged me $500 bucks. Thank goodness she takes invisible money AND she just paid me a million invisible bucks two days ago so she could watch The Doodlebops in my bedroom. Whew.
Please lord, don't let me have strep again!
Seriously, the pain is so bad I can't sleep. I'm on four hours sleep right now. Not good.
AND on top of the searing, agonizing throat pain I've got a cough from deep in my chest. Nice. I have grown woman's croup. I have pneumonia! Bird flu! Something terrifying and bad that I could have caught in my own home or at Walmart.
Walmart! Damn you!
Sickie haven.
In other news:
The situation with messy bloggers inspired me to completely overhaul Dylan's room in every way. He is now sleeping in a tricked out happy town. Toys in bins, shelves, TV stand for Spongebob viewing apparatus, bean bag seating for company. Organization is rad.
Unfortunately, it MAY have been this three to four hour cleaning bonanza that tipped the scales from slightly under the weather to DEAR LORD IT'S 4 AM AND MY THROAT IS ON FIRE! Call Dr. House!
I don't think I have cerebral malaria, amyloidosis, myesthenia gravis or even a broken toe leaking bone marrow into my bloodstream (Mira!), I just like Dr. House. And I hope Kumar will help ease my suffering too. He's funny. Maybe he can bring Ryan Reynolds. For eye-candy.
In any case, I will post pictures of the redone room later today, when my camera batteries have fully recharged.
There shall NOT be a "before" pic. Nay. I know you too well internet! You dirty scamp.
I'm sick and miserable.
My doctor, Dr. Elizabeth, MD, has prescribed a cough drop and a cup of tea every two hours. Then she charged me $500 bucks. Thank goodness she takes invisible money AND she just paid me a million invisible bucks two days ago so she could watch The Doodlebops in my bedroom. Whew.
Please lord, don't let me have strep again!
Seriously, the pain is so bad I can't sleep. I'm on four hours sleep right now. Not good.
AND on top of the searing, agonizing throat pain I've got a cough from deep in my chest. Nice. I have grown woman's croup. I have pneumonia! Bird flu! Something terrifying and bad that I could have caught in my own home or at Walmart.
Walmart! Damn you!
Sickie haven.
In other news:
The situation with messy bloggers inspired me to completely overhaul Dylan's room in every way. He is now sleeping in a tricked out happy town. Toys in bins, shelves, TV stand for Spongebob viewing apparatus, bean bag seating for company. Organization is rad.
Unfortunately, it MAY have been this three to four hour cleaning bonanza that tipped the scales from slightly under the weather to DEAR LORD IT'S 4 AM AND MY THROAT IS ON FIRE! Call Dr. House!
I don't think I have cerebral malaria, amyloidosis, myesthenia gravis or even a broken toe leaking bone marrow into my bloodstream (Mira!), I just like Dr. House. And I hope Kumar will help ease my suffering too. He's funny. Maybe he can bring Ryan Reynolds. For eye-candy.
In any case, I will post pictures of the redone room later today, when my camera batteries have fully recharged.
There shall NOT be a "before" pic. Nay. I know you too well internet! You dirty scamp.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
I'm illin'
Disclaimer: I'm fine, baby boy inside is fine. Everyone is fine.
I woke up yesterday with terrible stomach pains. The pain woke me up.
After three hours of that...and other unmentionable sickness...I was still unable to eat anything or drink anything.
I called my OB's office and they told me to go to the hospital's OB department for monitoring.
Bob was at work by then, so I had to call him home to watch the children.
Then I had to get dressed, go start the car (6 inches of snow all over it!) and find shoes. That was the hardest part. Finding a pair of shoes. Go figure.
When Bob got home he cleared all the snow off of my car and drove it out into the road (I am a horrible snow driver and got the car stuck in the driveway on a patch of slush).
Then I went to the hospital's OB department where they strapped me up to a monitor and tried very hard to find a vein for an IV.
Three nurses and four sticks later, I had an IV line. They took blood for tests and gave me 2 liters of IV fluids. I fell asleep on and off. I was exhausted.
My body was still doing the work of making another person, but without any fuel.
I lost three pounds yesterday. No lie. I weighed myself this morning.
Eventually I got to the point of starving and ice chips were not cutting it. They brought me soup and crackers. The soup made me want to puke. The crackers were bearable. So I ate four packets of saltine crackers yesterday. Total caloric intake: MAYBE 100 calories.
After that I got IV anti-nausea meds and the warning that I'd have to stay overnight if I didn't get better. I responded by falling asleep again.
I did start to feel less up-chuckish, and downed three 8oz cans of Shasta Ginger Ale, another 250 calories or so.
The baby monitor was showing no contractions and the baby's heartbeat was strong and fine. In fact, the kid was swimming around in there so much that it took the gal at least 15 minutes to find him, get him to hold still and get the heartbeat reading. All we could hear was swooshing and that was him flipping and diving and swirling around and doing whatever else babies do in there.
After seven hours of hospital hospitality they let me go home. I got home and immediately drank water. I am now freaked out of dehydrating again!
Then after two more ginger ales at home, I ate one delicious vanilla pudding cup.
Then my guts churned and I decided to stick with liquids like they told me to.
This morning my stomach is still tied in knots and every sip of water is making me gurgle and grumble.
I'm going to attempt soup later on today. I'm scared.
At least I'm home!
I woke up yesterday with terrible stomach pains. The pain woke me up.
After three hours of that...and other unmentionable sickness...I was still unable to eat anything or drink anything.
I called my OB's office and they told me to go to the hospital's OB department for monitoring.
Bob was at work by then, so I had to call him home to watch the children.
Then I had to get dressed, go start the car (6 inches of snow all over it!) and find shoes. That was the hardest part. Finding a pair of shoes. Go figure.
When Bob got home he cleared all the snow off of my car and drove it out into the road (I am a horrible snow driver and got the car stuck in the driveway on a patch of slush).
Then I went to the hospital's OB department where they strapped me up to a monitor and tried very hard to find a vein for an IV.
Three nurses and four sticks later, I had an IV line. They took blood for tests and gave me 2 liters of IV fluids. I fell asleep on and off. I was exhausted.
My body was still doing the work of making another person, but without any fuel.
I lost three pounds yesterday. No lie. I weighed myself this morning.
Eventually I got to the point of starving and ice chips were not cutting it. They brought me soup and crackers. The soup made me want to puke. The crackers were bearable. So I ate four packets of saltine crackers yesterday. Total caloric intake: MAYBE 100 calories.
After that I got IV anti-nausea meds and the warning that I'd have to stay overnight if I didn't get better. I responded by falling asleep again.
I did start to feel less up-chuckish, and downed three 8oz cans of Shasta Ginger Ale, another 250 calories or so.
The baby monitor was showing no contractions and the baby's heartbeat was strong and fine. In fact, the kid was swimming around in there so much that it took the gal at least 15 minutes to find him, get him to hold still and get the heartbeat reading. All we could hear was swooshing and that was him flipping and diving and swirling around and doing whatever else babies do in there.
After seven hours of hospital hospitality they let me go home. I got home and immediately drank water. I am now freaked out of dehydrating again!
Then after two more ginger ales at home, I ate one delicious vanilla pudding cup.
Then my guts churned and I decided to stick with liquids like they told me to.
This morning my stomach is still tied in knots and every sip of water is making me gurgle and grumble.
I'm going to attempt soup later on today. I'm scared.
At least I'm home!
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Pox? Vaccines are crap!
Yesterday afternoon I noticed that Dylan had some spots on his back. Seeing as how I am covered head to toe in mosquito bites, I figured he got some nibbles too.
Just to be safe I circled a few of them so I could check them out today and see if they had changed.
Well, great balls of fire they changed!
The little specks are turning into pus-filled pimples! And they're multiplying. Mostly they are on his back but he's got a few on his legs, belly and face! His poor cute face! I'm trying to just keep an eye on them, watch them change or go away (please Lord please!) because I don't want to take him into the pediatrician and have it be nothing....
AND they are cropping up on Elizabeth now too, so I have to wait another day to see if they turn pimply on her....
Gah!
Vaccines are worthless!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Sick and tired
Literally. I'm sick AND tired.
I'm pretty sure I have another sinus infection, and have had it for a week or two. I can't get rid of it and it's progressed to include a chronic chest congestion and hacking cough.
Add to that the antidepressant I'm taking - and its accompanying side effect of sleep disturbance, which for me seems to manifest as low grade lethargy all day and then insomnia at night. Fun.
Add to THAT two crazy kids who are running around all day trying to poison, maim and impale themselves with normal household items.
Add to THAT Dylan's newfound interest in getting me to exercise by running up and down the stairs to fetch the sippy cup he keeps throwing off the balcony.
Add to THAT Elizabeth's predilection for requesting various meals of varying degrees of difficulty vis-a-vis preparation and then rejecting those meals wholesale and asking for popcorn.
Add to THAT....ad infinitum.
I'm pretty sure I have another sinus infection, and have had it for a week or two. I can't get rid of it and it's progressed to include a chronic chest congestion and hacking cough.
Add to that the antidepressant I'm taking - and its accompanying side effect of sleep disturbance, which for me seems to manifest as low grade lethargy all day and then insomnia at night. Fun.
Add to THAT two crazy kids who are running around all day trying to poison, maim and impale themselves with normal household items.
Add to THAT Dylan's newfound interest in getting me to exercise by running up and down the stairs to fetch the sippy cup he keeps throwing off the balcony.
Add to THAT Elizabeth's predilection for requesting various meals of varying degrees of difficulty vis-a-vis preparation and then rejecting those meals wholesale and asking for popcorn.
Add to THAT....ad infinitum.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Febrile
Yesterday the family went to a birthday party at the park for my friend's daughter Ani. She turned 3.
During the presentation of the presents, a friend of mine who was a former firefighter/EMT said that she thought Dylan looked like he was having trouble breathing.
I tend to agree with the medical assessments of former EMTs who love my baby, so we took Dylan to the urgent care.
Once there, they quickly triaged him and determined that his temperature was over 105. OVER 105.
He was whisked to an exam room and given Children's Motrin, a breathing treatment and a chest x-ray. His fever started reducing quickly, but his breathing was still fast and junky. His x-ray showed a possible pneumonia developing, so we were OFF to the emergency room.
His fever stayed down in the ER, not WAY DOWN, but not 105.
The nurses wanted to start an IV and push saline in case of dehydration. Dylan's little veins did not cooperate and even with four nurses in on the action, two attempts to start an IV ended in pain and screams from Dylan and no IV.
Terrible.
After another set of chest x-rays, a heaping helping of Pedialyte and one Land Before Time movie Dylan fell asleep laying on me.
He was snorting and snuffling, he'd stop breathing and then snarfle back to breathing. Very scary.
The nurse came in to get his vitals one last time, as they had pumped him full of rocephin and were planning to discharge us from the ER.
HOWEVER.
While sleeping (and snarfling and gasping for air) Dylan's O2 saturations were down at 84 percent. (AKA not good)
When he woke up, they went up to around 91% - still not good.
The ER doc OBVIOUSLY didn't want to keep us overnight, despite the fact that I TOLD THEM I was not happy with those saturations and would probably sleep INSIDE Dylan's crib that night, they told us that 93% (where he eventually got to) was good and that he would be fine.
I wanted to scream at them, but I was so flipping tired.
He's going in to see his doctor today and I am going to raise holy hell for more treatment of his burgeoning pneumonia. 93% is not good!
The friggin idiot nurse was like, it's probably only so low because he is all stuffed up and can't get enough air... uh, ya think?!? That's exactly what I'm worried about!!!!!!!
Anyway...I'm exhausted. Dylan is still sleeping. I did sleep with him on the couch for about two hours before putting him in his crib and then returning myself to the couch where I could listen to him breathe all night.
I'm very very tired.
Coffee's up!
During the presentation of the presents, a friend of mine who was a former firefighter/EMT said that she thought Dylan looked like he was having trouble breathing.
I tend to agree with the medical assessments of former EMTs who love my baby, so we took Dylan to the urgent care.
Once there, they quickly triaged him and determined that his temperature was over 105. OVER 105.
He was whisked to an exam room and given Children's Motrin, a breathing treatment and a chest x-ray. His fever started reducing quickly, but his breathing was still fast and junky. His x-ray showed a possible pneumonia developing, so we were OFF to the emergency room.
His fever stayed down in the ER, not WAY DOWN, but not 105.
The nurses wanted to start an IV and push saline in case of dehydration. Dylan's little veins did not cooperate and even with four nurses in on the action, two attempts to start an IV ended in pain and screams from Dylan and no IV.
Terrible.
After another set of chest x-rays, a heaping helping of Pedialyte and one Land Before Time movie Dylan fell asleep laying on me.
He was snorting and snuffling, he'd stop breathing and then snarfle back to breathing. Very scary.
The nurse came in to get his vitals one last time, as they had pumped him full of rocephin and were planning to discharge us from the ER.
HOWEVER.
While sleeping (and snarfling and gasping for air) Dylan's O2 saturations were down at 84 percent. (AKA not good)
When he woke up, they went up to around 91% - still not good.
The ER doc OBVIOUSLY didn't want to keep us overnight, despite the fact that I TOLD THEM I was not happy with those saturations and would probably sleep INSIDE Dylan's crib that night, they told us that 93% (where he eventually got to) was good and that he would be fine.
I wanted to scream at them, but I was so flipping tired.
He's going in to see his doctor today and I am going to raise holy hell for more treatment of his burgeoning pneumonia. 93% is not good!
The friggin idiot nurse was like, it's probably only so low because he is all stuffed up and can't get enough air... uh, ya think?!? That's exactly what I'm worried about!!!!!!!
Anyway...I'm exhausted. Dylan is still sleeping. I did sleep with him on the couch for about two hours before putting him in his crib and then returning myself to the couch where I could listen to him breathe all night.
I'm very very tired.
Coffee's up!
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Damn damn DAMN!
A few weeks ago my friends and I were in the mood for some vocal histrionics, so we decided to catch the Christina Aguilera concert tour when it came through the Phoenix area.
The show is tomorrow night. My friends are going, but I am not.
Because I'm friggin' SICK AGAIN.
This time it's just a regular cold, which wouldn't normally keep me from going to a concert. However, this particular concert will require us to drive six hours roundtrip from our homes on the mountain to Phoenix and back AND I have to be at work the next day at 8 am to work alone on the website without help and therefore possibly wreck everything and/or be there for 12 hours.
Not a GREAT combo.
So I gave up my ticket.
I'm bummed. Really really bummed.
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