Another bout of crud

A quickie here because I've been neglecting the Internets lately. Funny how that is between working part-time (30 hours a week) and taking care of my son (how sweet that sounds)the rest of the time. I'm amazed I still find time to shower. Well, I don't sometimes but that's a whole nuther posting.

Imri has another ear infection. *sigh*. Again, no signs or symptoms - the only thing that clues me in is his need to nurse all night long - and even that is a guess on my part. I'm never sure. I was wracked with mommy guilt: "how could I not know my child was sick??? I must be a bad mommy!" and while I know that's not true, part of it tweaks that place inside, like a tongue worrying a sore tooth.

I'm just glad we had the follow-up appointment with Dr Wonderful. She is delighted with him; she always comments on how alert he is and has since day one. This time she clasped her hands gleefully at the sight of him "tripoding" (for those not in the know, like myself - sitting on his tuchas and balancing himself with two arms forward)and at his babbling. Yes, my boy is forming consonants as well as vowels and he grows more delicious each day. He also has rolled over from front to back! He seems to think this is quite the game, and though he tries mightily, he can't quite roll from back to front. Almost but not quite. Imri also keeps opening and closing his hammy hands, as if realizing "hey! these things actually work!". He is reaching for all and everything and it's amazing to watch him. Oh, and his laughter ... that amazing sound. I'd do anything to hear him laugh.

However, Imri decided to projectile vomit all over the place last night - these are the times that I remain grateful that we co-sleep. While I am aware that he probably wouldn't have aspirated the vomit, it certainly helped that I was right beside him and turned him immediately onto his side, then help him aloft, stomach down, as he proceeded to spew all over my freshly laundered sheets. After I changed him and John changed the bed, I nursed him and we went back to sleep ... well, almost asleep because just as we were about to drift off, Imri felt the need to repeat the performance.
I did call the pedi then (midnight plus)and although Imri snubbed his nose at the pro-offered water and later the pedi@lyte, he did nurse slowly (with me trying to block large gulps from happening) and finally drifted back to sleep. He did, anyway. I slept poorly, waking frequently to make sure he was still 1)free of any further vomit and 2)breathing. Call me silly. Go ahead.

So, an ear infection and a tummy virus - he did have diarrhea the day before at daycare and then for me, but I foolishly thought it was gone. Today he has been better but still subdued. Still diarrhea. No vomiting but definitely not as hungry as he usually is and much fussier than normal. But every now and then, he looks up at me and smiles that gorgeous smile and all is well again. He is so very beautiful.


Especially in this onesie ...

Very little about baby

I wish I had something scintillating to say. So before the next kvetch-fest, I send you to March Madness where you too can get involved in figuring out the Conservative brackets. I'm hoping that come November the conservatives will have no brackets left. May I just note that South Dakota has BANNED abortion. Yes, that state has actually legislated against abortion except for when the life of the pregnant woman is in danger. Yet another blow against women and their right to control their bodies and fertility. Please vote wisely come November.

To add insult to injury, as with the rest of the infertile blogosphere, I am incensed by the president of Resolve's comments to Newsweek magazine - way to perpetuate stereotypes, dude. Thanks so much.

Now given, my particular problems were not caused by medical issues per se, no endo (at least not much), no PCOS (only a suspicion), just minor Hashimoto's and hypothyroidism. And even that wasn't really it - more a tubal issue, thanks to an ectopic, thanks to a mixed up relationship, thanks to being a screwed up teen-ager, thanks to a million reasons which are too complex to delve into early on a Sunday morning.

So ... yeah, I kind of fit into both categories and I was still insulted by the president of Resolve's interview and subsequent mea culpa (or lack thereof). Since when do you let the reporter dictate the kind of interview you're going to give? Don't give us a cop-out answer about how the reporter really wanted to focus on this or that aspect - tell the damned reporter "these are my conditions for doing the article" or no dice. Believe me - they want you for the story as much as they want to cover certain "aspects". Yeesh.

A lot of women in the blogosphere have written letter to Resolve - I wish I was as articulate as Brooklyn Girl
or as inspiredarticulateerrr heartfelt as Beaver Girl or any number of the women who wrote in anger, but the fact is - I am not. And while I'm name-dropping, please wish Akeeyu, Julia and Julianna good luck. Please.

So I kvetch here instead. Yes, you got one kvetch-free entry, if you're an infertile, you didn't dare hope for another. I debated taking down my Resolve link but I decided against it - after all, they do good, despite their asshole of a president. And - why exactly - and herein my bias will show - why exactly is the president a male? Not to be ignorant - heck, male infertility is a fact, but it just seems to me that men head so many organizations where women are the main participants/victims/users/insertwhateverfitshere.

That's definitely true in nursing.

I guess this would be a great jump-off into how much I have come to dislike working with women, but ... *shrug*. What else is new? Can you tell there is strife at work?

The sad part is that even if I left my job (which I do like, despite having a defensive/passive-aggressive/play favourites-type boss), I know that it will not be much different anywhere else. I have worked in many varied environments in my healthcare career; psychiatry, ICU, ambulatory care, telephone triage, regular nursing floor - and the environment rarely changes. Even if you're lucky enough to have a good nurse manager, which sadly is a rarity, the cattiness, back-stabbing and gossiping amongst the staff (and doctors, don't forget the doctors)is enough to drive you bananas. I'm not certain if it's women or nursing. Maybe it's both. And maybe that's where the president of Resolve gets it from - hell knows, he fits right in.

I love being a nurse. I love what I do, no matter where I do it and it which setting it is performed - caring for patients and doing my absolute best for them means a great deal to me. It makes a difference in people's lives, whether it's saving a life in the "every second counts" atmosphere of ICU, or helping alleviate the sometimes paralyzing fear of a patient about to undergo an endoscopy. I love it and I'm good at it. I just wish nurses ...well, I just wish we could all get along. Maybe then we could actually unite and cause something good to happen. The nursing workforce is huge, seriously. There are a few hundred thousand registered nurses across the United States - that should be some serious political power for change. Instead, we are torn apart by in-fighting and cattiness.

I suppose I'm not much better. I have not done much except kvetch about it.

Perhaps this kvetch was brought about by receiving one of the area's nursing magazines and seeing the nurse week gear they had for sale. I want none of it - and I really want to want it, baby. I do - well, other than the inane "nurses are angels" crap. I mean, really, folks. But I want to want the cute "don't mess with my mom, she's a nurse" outfit for Imri. I want to want the "RN" license plates you can get in Maryland. And I treasure the stuff my husband (and patients) have given me in the past. But something about all this nurse stuff - and not just the gear - leaves me cold.

And that makes me sadder than my meagre writing skills can describe.





I feel so much better now

A kvetch-free entry

I just re-read several of my last entries and realized something important. I've been kvetching in all of them. So I hereby promise you a kvetch-free post.

Imri has started laughing. It is the most wonderful sound I've ever heard (and yes, that includes the one and only time I ever heard in stereo, accomplished with the help of certain pharmaceuticals).

Imri stands on my lap - stands, I tell you. He stands and holds himself upright, I only contribute the balance factor. And he jumps and jumps and jumps - and he laughs, that open-mouthed, happy-eyed, wonderful laugh.

Then, I sit him on my knee and bounce him and sing "bippity boppety boo" and we bounce and he smiles. I stop bouncing ... and start again. He looks up at me and the smile grows huge. I stop once more ... and bounce once. He giggles. I bounce him again ... he starts to laugh and laugh, his glee-filled eyes bright and shining and joyous.

He is reaching for things - my hair, my nose, my mouth. Anything he can grab in his chubby little hands or cram in his own mouth. He is a mere hair's breadth away from being able to roll onto his stomach. He is so close to being able to sit up unassisted.
Ah yes, life is good. Way good.

Even if we do have another ear infection.

Run, kitty ... run!

Imri is at a really great stage right now. He's come to the realization that there are things outside himself - and that he can not only entertain himself, but interact, as well.
This is good for all involved but the cat.

Imri has fallen in love with one of our cats, Simcha. He looks for her constantly and smiles big when she comes into view. Yesterday I said "Imri, where's the cat?" and he turned his head until he saw her. I was most impressed. Imri is most impressed with her tail. Oy.














Simcha has always been the more standoffish of our two cats, but she has taken a keen interest in our little guy and has been very patient with his clutching at her fur. She actually comes and seeks him out - it's pretty cute.
On the other hand, my big cat Shimon started pulling out his fur three months after Imri was born. Depo shots have only held him for a couple of weeks and he starts again. He looks like he has a mohawk. It's very distressing and I really don't know what to do. It's a sheer stress response and I wish I had the time I used to have to cuddle him - he was always my baby - but I just don't. And I hate having to push him away when he tries to sleep up against the baby, but I do, for obvious reasons. I may have to put him on Paxil or something. Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions?

And just so you know - Augmentin is from the devil. Imri had 8(!!!!) diarrhea-filled diapers in three hours after only 2 days on it. I called and spoke to a nurse about my concerns regarding: 1) dehydration, 2) his poor bottom which looked awful and 3)the need for some other course of action because he was obviously miserable.
The nurse argued with me. "It's not that kind of diarrhea" she said in response to concern number one. I raised my brow - which she couldn't see, of course, but if she had been able to see, she would have known that she should stop there.

Because, boys and girls ... how the hell does she know what kind of diarrhea it is? Has she seen it? And two ... diarrhea is diarrhea and Imri is only 4 1/2 months old. So there's a definite concern of dehydration, especially in one so young and with the extreme response over such a short time. I was unhappy. I reiterated to her my concerns regarding his bottom - if it looked this bad after 2 days of Augmentin and he needed to do 10 days ... well, it wasn't looking good.

She seemed most eager to get me off the phone - told me she would ask one of the doctors and someone would get back to me.

Which she did a couple of hours later only to say "we need the name of a pharmacy in case the doctor decides to put him on something else". I gave her the info and told her that they better think of another option for him as I had not (and would not) give(n) him his morning dosage of Augmentin. She exclaimed at the importance of continuing his medication, despite everything and yadda yadda yadda at which point I finally cut her off and brought out the big guns.

I told her I was a nurse.

If nothing else, it shut her up.

I will say this - for the most part, the nurses at the center are wonderful. She was just rubbing me the wrong way. Sure, I'm not the most reasonable of women sometimes, but her responses made no sense to me. So I pulled out my trump card. Sue me.

My mother will tell all and sundry that I'm a nurse - when my brother was in a car accident (nothing terribly serious), she kept telling the doctor in the ER "but my daughter is a nurse at VeryImportantHospitalinBaltimore!!!". Oy. I hate telling other medical professionals that I'm an RN. But when it comes to my son's health ... hey. I got over my hatred very quickly.

In the end, a doc called me (mine wasn't there that day) and I brought Imri in to see a different pedi - the verdict? His ears looked a lot better, no redness, swelling or pus and his eye is just fine and we decided to stop all medications and follow up next week.

So I'm thinking - maybe our sick patch is over. It would be nice! And I'm looking forward to and planning for Passover. We're driving up to Toronto ... with Imri.
He'll be six months old then. I can't even believe it.