I never know if I should blog on September 11th anymore. Talking about our wonderful L&D tour yesterday seems rather trivial if you take everything into consideration, especially in light of Katrina.
I will quickly mention that the L&D department of the hospital in our small town has been completely renovated and is absolutely GORGEOUS. I mean it. Complete with brand new positionable beds, knowledgeable RNs- if our tour guide is any example, birthing balls, and squat bars. Yes, ladies and gents ... squat bars. Because, as the RN said "lying on your back to give birth just doesn't work well". Who knew that even here in Redneck country they were paying attention?.... oh, and a level II NICU. Which is nice because Level II starts at 32-33 weeks and guess who just hit 33 weeks? Yours truly. It's good to celebrate life on a day such as today.
I was thinking of posting this piece which I wrote 2 days after September 11th, 2001. I was working ICU at the time at Big Hospital in Baltimore and we emptied out, expecting casualties from both WTC and the Pentagon. The hardest part to accept for a very long time was that no one came. There was no one left.
One of the strangest parts of that day was going home after my 12 hour shift ended - we hadn't expected to go home, we thought we'd be swamped. But I drove home on I-95 - there were maybe 4 other cars on what is normally a packed highway. And we were all doing the speed limit. Funny how those things remain with you. Those days are the reason I listen to news radio in my car, not music. I re-read my words ... so much innocence still remained even after such a horrific disaster. I'm much more cynical now.
Here is what I wrote 4 years ago:
I was at work in the ICU when someone said something about the World Trade Centre. No one really paid attention at first - after all, the ICU is a busy place. But I walked into my patient's room and the TV was on ... just in time for me to see the second plane crash into the WTC.
I called out to some of the other nurses "Oh my god!!!!!! A plane hit the WTC!!!! ", not realizing that this was the second one for a few moments ... watching in absolute horror and stunned silence. After all, this stuff happens only in movies, right? Where was Bruce Willis? But as panic filled the airwaves, the realization sank in - this wasn't a movie. This was reality, harsh cold and bitter - and hateful. Doctors and nurses started running into our ICU rooms from the OR, people crowded around the TVs in utter silence and disbelief, watching the videos over and over as if hoping to glean some understanding, hoping that this wasn't happening, that no just god would ever allow something like this to happen.
We cancelled our OR cases and the docs kept coming in to watch the news. I can't and never will forget the looks on the faces of my fellow nurses as the extent of the terror unfolded - looks of horror, disbelief, fear
... and tears. There were a lot of tears here, tears from doctors and nurses who truly thought they had seen it all. We kept hugging each other, trying to make the pain stop to no avail.
The shock hadn't set in when we set ourselves to the task of becoming a possible disaster zone. We cleared out all non-critical patients in anticipation of the wounded. We organized and took solace in busy work, trying not to think of the reason we were doing this.
And then the Pentagon. My heart stilled a moment. John. His work is on a base not far from there ... an important base. I ran to the phone ... other nurses were calling their husbands, brothers, fathers. John's voice mail - please please please let this be only because he is away from his desk. I left a frantic message. 5 minutes later he called me back, safe and sound. His voice never sounded as sweet.
I called my parents. My mother was hysterical with worry ... we tracked down my brother who was supposed to have been in NY at WTC for business this week. His trip was cancelled. Toronto seems like a better place these days.
My mother said words that keep ringing in my ears ..."We lived in Israel for 10 years and we never came as close to this as you did today. " It's true. I felt safer there. I never felt fear as I do today.
Israel declared a day of mourning, Israelis in the streets were in tears.
The Palestinians were dancing in the streets and handing out candy. Check out Salon.com's article. Oh yeah, and the AP has pictures of more than just a group of kids dancing in the street too, which is what Arafat is claiming is all it was. There was a large gathering in Nablus. Only the AP won't release the pictures because of terrorist threats.
It doesn't make me feel good to say that, to reinforce what Israel and Israelis have known about terrorists and terrorism for so long. It's not "I told you so". "I told you so" has never left the taste of ashes in my mouth.
But the US is bonding together, brought closer by this horrific tragedy. At work today in one of the newspapers was a full page colour copy of a waving American flag with the words "One nation, undivided ...". I took it and hung it on the wall right at the entrance to our nursing station. Most of us were fighting back tears.
And I've been that way since this happened. Fighting back tears or succumbing to them often, without reason. Sobbing. Unable to understand. And I don't understand, I don't. I never want to. I save lives every day. Who could do this, what kind of hatred does this to a person that they could plot and carry out the deaths of perhaps 10,000 innocent civilians, people who did them no wrong other than be a different religion, different nationality, different skin colour.
This evening I sat watching TV once again, unable to pull myself away from the horror, the plane diving again and again into the flaming towers, the collapse, the horror. Tears came hot and bitter as I watched the president of Cantor Fitzgerald sob on national TV as he told of the 700 people, coworkers and friends that he lost on Tuesday. 700 out of 1000 people. He wasn't there because he took his 5 year old child to her first day of kindergarten. The guilt, the pain on his face. How do we cope with the enormity of this horror?
In the end, most of the patients ended up going to a different ICU at our hospital, one that has greater experience dealing with severe burn patients. Military helicopters kept landing, ambulances kept coming in that day, sirens blaring. But other than that an eerie silence. The part that probably hurts most is that we should have been filled with patients. But they're finding no one. No one. We can save no one. And gods, does that hurt. Please, let us save someone. Please.
I try to take solace in the patients we do have, the ones that we are saving, now and everyday. But it's so hard. I feel helpless and I still can't stop crying. Even now as I type this.
People turn to faith at times like these but I, I stand here, fist to the sky and scream "Why????" "If there is a god, a just and loving god ... WHY???????". No such god would allow children to be orphaned, no such god would tear people apart like this, no god would hurt those good souls who rushed into the buildings with no thought other than to save the lives of others. I have no faith in god, no. No. Not anymore. Not ever again. I have lost what little faith I still used to cling to at tough times and the pain of loss grows greater.
And I find myself restored in humanity, in the faces of firefighters and EMTs and nurses and doctors and the thousands of volunteers out there right now, where I should be, searching and working till they drop from fatigue, yet still holding the ember of hope in their hearts. Thank you, all of you. I hope you all understand how much what you're doing means to me.
My heart goes out to the victims, the survivors and to all of us. We are lessened because of this. We are strengthened because of this. We are more human for it. I mourn for our loss, not just a loss to the USA, but a loss to the world. This planet will never be quite the same.
Be safe and hold your loved ones close.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Notes from Hypochondria
I find that yet again I must thank my readers for their support and kindness. This is a good thing - not only does it show that my readers are wonderful (and you are, each one of you), it shows that my mother raised me properly and with good manners. So much so that I called her the other day and apologized profusely for everything I ever did to her when I was a teen.
Yes, the situation with the teenager hasn't improved. Ah well. I will mercifully spare you the latest. Suffice it to say he lost his mp3 player for a couple of days despite his cries of "you can't take that, my MOTHER gave it to me". Watch me, you little shit. Sorry. There goes my BP again.
I've heard nothing about my 24 hour urine yet and I'm taking the "no news is good news" as gospel, ignoring the fact that I didn't bring it in until Thursday morning and meaning that results most likely won't be ready till Monday. But I am being positive about this and I feel that it will be ok. I've also tried to convince myself that I don't see bright lights in front of my eyes, that I'm merely a hypochondriac, but since it happened yesterday again, I'm having difficulty with that whole river in Egypt thing.
I do see wispy things and dots in front of my eyes and figure those may be "floaters" but seeing bright flashes and lines of light ... well, it wasn't my imagination. I took my pressure at the time at it was 114/70. Not bad. On the same machine I usually read 105/60, so nothing too worrisome. Hence my belief that all will be well with the urine.
My glucose has been pretty stable and I will once again say how glad I am for the care and follow-up I am getting from the nursing hotline. Also, a sincere thanks to Beaver Girl for her support on this - it's rare when someone understands "exactly" what you mean. Thanks, babe. It means mucho.
I have alternated between feeling pretty good and feeling damned awful, awful to the point where I've thought "ok, let's look up the symptoms of HELLP in my old maternal/neonatal nursing textbook (which is now a bazillion years old). I have some of the symptoms, but not all ... nausea - sometimes check, malaise - check, gestational hypertension - kind of check, edema - check, proteinuria - check.
I do know that when they did bloodwork for me on 24 hour urine day, they did not do a coagulation study. I'm guessing they think I'm in Hypochondria too.
Probably the thing that has spun me into Hypochondria the fastest is my growing lack of confidence in the care I've been getting at my OB's. Between the loss of my chart ("oh look, I've lost 4 lbs!" "Really? I wouldn't know, we can't find your chart" ) and their seeming lack of knowing what I'm scheduled for and my diagnoses, in addition to chart omissions (see previous posts)...well, I feel like I'm the only person who really gives a damn/knows squat about what is going on with me. That's not a good place for a worry-wort.
And it's too late to find a new OB, really. I'm not ready to do that.
I have made one executive decision though - if these tests come back poorly, my next phone call Monday morning will be to the perinatologist. Because if I come back pre-eclamptic or anything along those lines, I'm not trusting my OB's office to do it right.
Looking at the bright side ... tomorrow I will be 33 weeks. It's almost safe to go back in the water ... or in this case, surfactant, which is my main concern. It would be nice to avoid a NICU stay and I'm very close to that cutoff line. That fills me with hope.
I really didn't mean this to be doom and gloom - it's not. I'm feeling good this morning and am looking forward to our Labour and Delivery tour today - it's exciting and nerve-wracking in a sweet way. My baby boy is an active lil guy and I enjoy feeling him move - to me it is truly one of the sweetest feelings in this known universe. Watching my belly undulate - well, I could do it for hours. He can kick me as much as he likes - nothing better, from my perspective.
I am definitely slowing down these days - I see it in my walking, at work, and in general. I honestly never thought I'd get slower as this pregnancy progressed - I'm not sure why I thought that. And a couple of women have said "have you dropped a little?" - hard for me to say, I don't really feel it but the doc did say that I'm carrying low per ultrasound.
And next weekend is my work baby shower. It's very exciting for me ... a woman who had come to accept that she would probably never have a baby - and here I am having two showers for this very very loved child. I am so very lucky.
I'll probably end up fooling everyone, myself included, and go to 41 weeks.
Any takers on that bet?
Yes, the situation with the teenager hasn't improved. Ah well. I will mercifully spare you the latest. Suffice it to say he lost his mp3 player for a couple of days despite his cries of "you can't take that, my MOTHER gave it to me". Watch me, you little shit. Sorry. There goes my BP again.
I've heard nothing about my 24 hour urine yet and I'm taking the "no news is good news" as gospel, ignoring the fact that I didn't bring it in until Thursday morning and meaning that results most likely won't be ready till Monday. But I am being positive about this and I feel that it will be ok. I've also tried to convince myself that I don't see bright lights in front of my eyes, that I'm merely a hypochondriac, but since it happened yesterday again, I'm having difficulty with that whole river in Egypt thing.
I do see wispy things and dots in front of my eyes and figure those may be "floaters" but seeing bright flashes and lines of light ... well, it wasn't my imagination. I took my pressure at the time at it was 114/70. Not bad. On the same machine I usually read 105/60, so nothing too worrisome. Hence my belief that all will be well with the urine.
My glucose has been pretty stable and I will once again say how glad I am for the care and follow-up I am getting from the nursing hotline. Also, a sincere thanks to Beaver Girl for her support on this - it's rare when someone understands "exactly" what you mean. Thanks, babe. It means mucho.
I have alternated between feeling pretty good and feeling damned awful, awful to the point where I've thought "ok, let's look up the symptoms of HELLP in my old maternal/neonatal nursing textbook (which is now a bazillion years old). I have some of the symptoms, but not all ... nausea - sometimes check, malaise - check, gestational hypertension - kind of check, edema - check, proteinuria - check.
I do know that when they did bloodwork for me on 24 hour urine day, they did not do a coagulation study. I'm guessing they think I'm in Hypochondria too.
Probably the thing that has spun me into Hypochondria the fastest is my growing lack of confidence in the care I've been getting at my OB's. Between the loss of my chart ("oh look, I've lost 4 lbs!" "Really? I wouldn't know, we can't find your chart" ) and their seeming lack of knowing what I'm scheduled for and my diagnoses, in addition to chart omissions (see previous posts)...well, I feel like I'm the only person who really gives a damn/knows squat about what is going on with me. That's not a good place for a worry-wort.
And it's too late to find a new OB, really. I'm not ready to do that.
I have made one executive decision though - if these tests come back poorly, my next phone call Monday morning will be to the perinatologist. Because if I come back pre-eclamptic or anything along those lines, I'm not trusting my OB's office to do it right.
Looking at the bright side ... tomorrow I will be 33 weeks. It's almost safe to go back in the water ... or in this case, surfactant, which is my main concern. It would be nice to avoid a NICU stay and I'm very close to that cutoff line. That fills me with hope.
I really didn't mean this to be doom and gloom - it's not. I'm feeling good this morning and am looking forward to our Labour and Delivery tour today - it's exciting and nerve-wracking in a sweet way. My baby boy is an active lil guy and I enjoy feeling him move - to me it is truly one of the sweetest feelings in this known universe. Watching my belly undulate - well, I could do it for hours. He can kick me as much as he likes - nothing better, from my perspective.
I am definitely slowing down these days - I see it in my walking, at work, and in general. I honestly never thought I'd get slower as this pregnancy progressed - I'm not sure why I thought that. And a couple of women have said "have you dropped a little?" - hard for me to say, I don't really feel it but the doc did say that I'm carrying low per ultrasound.
And next weekend is my work baby shower. It's very exciting for me ... a woman who had come to accept that she would probably never have a baby - and here I am having two showers for this very very loved child. I am so very lucky.
I'll probably end up fooling everyone, myself included, and go to 41 weeks.
Any takers on that bet?
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Update from my OB visit
I got to my OB's to find that no one knew about my scheduled ultrasound and they couldn't find my chart. *sigh*. I'm really having trouble with this practice.
Anyway, after waiting over one and a half hours and arguing with the receptionist about said ultrasound(!!!) I finally had my growth u/s. Baby boy is doing well but he is at the 84th percentile for growth - measuring nearly 2 weeks ahead. That is not wonderful if I want to have a regular birth although OB didn't think he'd be more than oh ...say ... 8 or 9 pounds if he continued at this growth rate. Uhuh.
The good part of that equation is this - if we have to go early, he'll be a decent weight. I'm definitely taking some consolation in that matter, thanks Stacy.
She said we wouldn't absolutely do a c-section unless we were looking at 10 lbs (!!!!) but said I could have one if I wanted one. I didn't take that any farther. Yet.
She saw my swollen feet and tut-tutted, saw my BP which is now 128/80 (I'm normally 110/60), heard about the little spots of light in front of my eyes and ordered a 24 hour urine test - that should be fun at work tomorrow. They also ordered bloodwork and I reminded them to check my thyroid function ... *sigh*. I'm getting tired of reminding my OBs of the basics.
The good news is that I've lost 3 lbs and the baby is doing well and pointing in the right direction. My amniotic fluid is good. She also said he is riding very low and asked if I'm feeling a lot of pressure - which I am.
So ... I was hoping for better news, but it certainly could be worse too. I'm starting to think this baby will come early and via c-section.
Just one more thing - it's very overwhelming. I'm trying to stay optimistic and cheerful but it's not easy ... I know I sound like I'm whining - there are women going through SO much more than I am. It just feels like a lot - but then again, I could be in Louisiana and going through the same thing. THAT would be bad.
There are so many positives here, sometimes it's just hard to see them from where I am sitting. Hence my reasoning that I'm fighting depression.
One of the nicer things to happen today is the phone call I received from the nurse telephone line that's monitoring my gestational diabetes - just calling to touch base and tell me that my blood glucose has been great! That was so nice - the RN really made me smile.
I told her about my lunch today - I treated myself to Cheesecake Factory - had Buffalo wings and a salad. Only to find out that there was orange juice in the wings "just for a touch of sweetness" - said the waiter proudly after I had finished a bunch - and that the salad I ordered had a large amount of noodles in it. Oops. I ate what I thought was reasonable and my sugar was 112 2 hours post-lunch, so I did good. She was proud of me but not in a sappy way, which made me feel alright. Maybe I am getting the hang of this GD stuff. Maybe.
Oh, and I ordered cheesecake for Jr and John ... both in flavours I don't like. No temptation!! I am so good. I really wanted to order the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake or the Godiva one ... but I refrained.
So that's my story. I wish it were better, but if nothing else, please wish me luck with the 24 hour urine thing. I could use a break.
Anyway, after waiting over one and a half hours and arguing with the receptionist about said ultrasound(!!!) I finally had my growth u/s. Baby boy is doing well but he is at the 84th percentile for growth - measuring nearly 2 weeks ahead. That is not wonderful if I want to have a regular birth although OB didn't think he'd be more than oh ...say ... 8 or 9 pounds if he continued at this growth rate. Uhuh.
The good part of that equation is this - if we have to go early, he'll be a decent weight. I'm definitely taking some consolation in that matter, thanks Stacy.
She said we wouldn't absolutely do a c-section unless we were looking at 10 lbs (!!!!) but said I could have one if I wanted one. I didn't take that any farther. Yet.
She saw my swollen feet and tut-tutted, saw my BP which is now 128/80 (I'm normally 110/60), heard about the little spots of light in front of my eyes and ordered a 24 hour urine test - that should be fun at work tomorrow. They also ordered bloodwork and I reminded them to check my thyroid function ... *sigh*. I'm getting tired of reminding my OBs of the basics.
The good news is that I've lost 3 lbs and the baby is doing well and pointing in the right direction. My amniotic fluid is good. She also said he is riding very low and asked if I'm feeling a lot of pressure - which I am.
So ... I was hoping for better news, but it certainly could be worse too. I'm starting to think this baby will come early and via c-section.
Just one more thing - it's very overwhelming. I'm trying to stay optimistic and cheerful but it's not easy ... I know I sound like I'm whining - there are women going through SO much more than I am. It just feels like a lot - but then again, I could be in Louisiana and going through the same thing. THAT would be bad.
There are so many positives here, sometimes it's just hard to see them from where I am sitting. Hence my reasoning that I'm fighting depression.
One of the nicer things to happen today is the phone call I received from the nurse telephone line that's monitoring my gestational diabetes - just calling to touch base and tell me that my blood glucose has been great! That was so nice - the RN really made me smile.
I told her about my lunch today - I treated myself to Cheesecake Factory - had Buffalo wings and a salad. Only to find out that there was orange juice in the wings "just for a touch of sweetness" - said the waiter proudly after I had finished a bunch - and that the salad I ordered had a large amount of noodles in it. Oops. I ate what I thought was reasonable and my sugar was 112 2 hours post-lunch, so I did good. She was proud of me but not in a sappy way, which made me feel alright. Maybe I am getting the hang of this GD stuff. Maybe.
Oh, and I ordered cheesecake for Jr and John ... both in flavours I don't like. No temptation!! I am so good. I really wanted to order the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake or the Godiva one ... but I refrained.
So that's my story. I wish it were better, but if nothing else, please wish me luck with the 24 hour urine thing. I could use a break.
And the Oscar goes to ...
me, for an outstanding performance in the role of "who, me? depressed? hahahahahaha, you've got to be kidding", without giving it away to my dear husband, who has no clue.
Yeah, I think I am. I mean, I'm functioning and everything but I'm a complete emotional basket case and feel inadequate and near to tears all the time.
GD sucks. I'm having a tough time with the emotional aspects of restricted eating - I have food issues, folks. Big ones. GD makes it very hard. I know I need to suck it up and get over myself but ... hell, it's my blog and I'll whine if I want to.
The thought of a c-section is scary but I've sort of made peace with it. Sort of but not really. I'm afraid I'll miss out on the whole birth experience, as this will likely be my only child - and I really don't want to miss out on anything. And that is a big deal. So, maybe I'm fooling myself with this "at peace" thing.
It does bag me another 2 weeks of stay at home time with His Highness which is a shitty way to look at it and yes, I do think the United States SUCKS in regards to moms and maternity leave and if you think that makes me an America hater ... well, bully to you. Have a nice day, thanks for flying Air Chaos. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way to the next blog.
I go to the OB's today for a growth ultrasound just to make sure His Highness is doing well and is not humungous and I will talk to the doc about c-section options, etc. I just wish I knew what to ask. Who the hell died and made me the expert, anyway? I want my mom!! Or someone, anyway.
I do, yanno. It's weird. I called her yesterday and apologized for all the awful things (and they were many) I ever did to her when I was a teenager. Yeah, I may be slower than most, but I finally get it, especially since I've been dealing with the teen lately. His father finally saw some of the behaviour too, so some of the monkey is off my back. But yeah, Mom was pretty teary when I called her and apologized. She does keep bugging me about "when should we come down" (they're in Toronto) and I told her that I *may* have more answers for her today. But really, I don't know. And I don't want them here a month ahead of time, either. Oy.
Mostly, I feel badly for my baby to be. I'm sorry, kiddo. I really don't have a flying clue what I'm doing here and you're about to bear the brunt of it. I really am sorry.
I just wish this cloud would lift.
Yeah, I think I am. I mean, I'm functioning and everything but I'm a complete emotional basket case and feel inadequate and near to tears all the time.
GD sucks. I'm having a tough time with the emotional aspects of restricted eating - I have food issues, folks. Big ones. GD makes it very hard. I know I need to suck it up and get over myself but ... hell, it's my blog and I'll whine if I want to.
The thought of a c-section is scary but I've sort of made peace with it. Sort of but not really. I'm afraid I'll miss out on the whole birth experience, as this will likely be my only child - and I really don't want to miss out on anything. And that is a big deal. So, maybe I'm fooling myself with this "at peace" thing.
It does bag me another 2 weeks of stay at home time with His Highness which is a shitty way to look at it and yes, I do think the United States SUCKS in regards to moms and maternity leave and if you think that makes me an America hater ... well, bully to you. Have a nice day, thanks for flying Air Chaos. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way to the next blog.
I go to the OB's today for a growth ultrasound just to make sure His Highness is doing well and is not humungous and I will talk to the doc about c-section options, etc. I just wish I knew what to ask. Who the hell died and made me the expert, anyway? I want my mom!! Or someone, anyway.
I do, yanno. It's weird. I called her yesterday and apologized for all the awful things (and they were many) I ever did to her when I was a teenager. Yeah, I may be slower than most, but I finally get it, especially since I've been dealing with the teen lately. His father finally saw some of the behaviour too, so some of the monkey is off my back. But yeah, Mom was pretty teary when I called her and apologized. She does keep bugging me about "when should we come down" (they're in Toronto) and I told her that I *may* have more answers for her today. But really, I don't know. And I don't want them here a month ahead of time, either. Oy.
Mostly, I feel badly for my baby to be. I'm sorry, kiddo. I really don't have a flying clue what I'm doing here and you're about to bear the brunt of it. I really am sorry.
I just wish this cloud would lift.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
All resentment, almost all the time
I'm in a slightly better mood. Slightly, I said. Between the teenager who has decided that I am the weakest link and the hormones, the GD, the creeping blood pressure, the swelling, joint pain, insomnia, the State of the Union, the death of Rehnquist, and everything else in my life, I've been attempting to remain wholeheartedly jovial.
Of course, John (he of the trigger fuse) loses his temper whenever Jr and I disagree, no matter who is at fault (yes, I'm usually to blame, you know) which doesn't help. At all. The other day I turned to my beloved husband and told him that *I* wasn't his kid, and if he had a problem with me, he could address me privately, in a different tone and certainly not in front of the child.
Yes, all is as usual at Chez Chaos.
The stress of raising a child who is not your own, hormonal, and whose other parent does their righteous best to poison the child's mind against you, is difficult. And that's putting it mildly. Not to mention my own hormonality and issues. Those of you out there who are step-parents know of whence I speak, especially if you're dealing with teens. Life isn't bad all the time, but it can definitely be challenging.
Everything I read about bringing a baby into the world talks about what a special time this is for the couple, yada yada, peace and relaxation before the babe arrives, yada yada, bonding and love, yada yada. Sure, if you ignore my soaring blood pressure because of a certain teenager and the husband's soaring blood pressure because of the tension. Allegedly. He's most likely hypertensive anyway.
It doesn't seem to ever be enough. No matter how hard I try, it never seems to be enough. And that, my friends, is the crux of it. It should be enough. I try very hard with him, very hard indeed. Are there things I could do better or differently? Sure there are. Do I wish that in some ways I was a different type of parent? Absolutely.
I think about that a great deal - I don't delude myself into thinking that with His Highness, all will be bright and utopian and wonderful, and that I will be the best mama in the world since time began. No. I am well aware of my limitations, and they are many. But I will have some form of say in this new relationship with MY son, I will not be discounted and vetoed.
I will be the one to hear "I love you, Mom" no matter the shitty job I do. And I figure that if Jr says that to the biothing with all her poison, I may actually hear that from a child of my own, perhaps even said with greater sincerity than the offhandedness with which I hear it tossed from Jr's lips when he's on the phone.
Does that sound childish? I don't know. If it is, so be it. It's real. I feel it. I wonder sometimes if that was part of my impetus to have children at this late stage of the game. If so, is that awful of me?
It's just so very difficult to try so hard and get nothing in return other than constant arguments and resentment. And the resentment goes both ways, make no mistake. I wish John would back me up on these arguments more frequently, but I am sure than he is tired of it too.
He would rather avoid confrontation though. He would rather pretend all is hunky dory and well, pretend Jr is still 10, still coddle and give him an allowance (in 12th grade!!!!) than insist he get a job, or a driver's license, or make sure he help around the house, etc etc etc. The kid hasn't even looked at college applications yet, he'd rather look at video games. It's my humble opinion that John is doing his son no good by enabling this type of behaviour.
And then again, maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the hard nose without understanding or compassion.
I'm going to try and make today a good day and not worry about Jr. Let him be his Dad's responsibility. I need to focus on my very active and kicking son.
I've also decided that if there is indeed one Supreme Being, she has a kick-ass sense of humour in allowing all this shit currently upon the world to multiply and grow ... while GW Bush is president. That swinging pendulum has come back to kick us in the collective asses. Yes, it adds to my anxiety level. I'm that kind of girl.
Thank you for listening. Oh, and I'm eating an apple. It tastes like contraband.
Of course, John (he of the trigger fuse) loses his temper whenever Jr and I disagree, no matter who is at fault (yes, I'm usually to blame, you know) which doesn't help. At all. The other day I turned to my beloved husband and told him that *I* wasn't his kid, and if he had a problem with me, he could address me privately, in a different tone and certainly not in front of the child.
Yes, all is as usual at Chez Chaos.
The stress of raising a child who is not your own, hormonal, and whose other parent does their righteous best to poison the child's mind against you, is difficult. And that's putting it mildly. Not to mention my own hormonality and issues. Those of you out there who are step-parents know of whence I speak, especially if you're dealing with teens. Life isn't bad all the time, but it can definitely be challenging.
Everything I read about bringing a baby into the world talks about what a special time this is for the couple, yada yada, peace and relaxation before the babe arrives, yada yada, bonding and love, yada yada. Sure, if you ignore my soaring blood pressure because of a certain teenager and the husband's soaring blood pressure because of the tension. Allegedly. He's most likely hypertensive anyway.
It doesn't seem to ever be enough. No matter how hard I try, it never seems to be enough. And that, my friends, is the crux of it. It should be enough. I try very hard with him, very hard indeed. Are there things I could do better or differently? Sure there are. Do I wish that in some ways I was a different type of parent? Absolutely.
I think about that a great deal - I don't delude myself into thinking that with His Highness, all will be bright and utopian and wonderful, and that I will be the best mama in the world since time began. No. I am well aware of my limitations, and they are many. But I will have some form of say in this new relationship with MY son, I will not be discounted and vetoed.
I will be the one to hear "I love you, Mom" no matter the shitty job I do. And I figure that if Jr says that to the biothing with all her poison, I may actually hear that from a child of my own, perhaps even said with greater sincerity than the offhandedness with which I hear it tossed from Jr's lips when he's on the phone.
Does that sound childish? I don't know. If it is, so be it. It's real. I feel it. I wonder sometimes if that was part of my impetus to have children at this late stage of the game. If so, is that awful of me?
It's just so very difficult to try so hard and get nothing in return other than constant arguments and resentment. And the resentment goes both ways, make no mistake. I wish John would back me up on these arguments more frequently, but I am sure than he is tired of it too.
He would rather avoid confrontation though. He would rather pretend all is hunky dory and well, pretend Jr is still 10, still coddle and give him an allowance (in 12th grade!!!!) than insist he get a job, or a driver's license, or make sure he help around the house, etc etc etc. The kid hasn't even looked at college applications yet, he'd rather look at video games. It's my humble opinion that John is doing his son no good by enabling this type of behaviour.
And then again, maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the hard nose without understanding or compassion.
I'm going to try and make today a good day and not worry about Jr. Let him be his Dad's responsibility. I need to focus on my very active and kicking son.
I've also decided that if there is indeed one Supreme Being, she has a kick-ass sense of humour in allowing all this shit currently upon the world to multiply and grow ... while GW Bush is president. That swinging pendulum has come back to kick us in the collective asses. Yes, it adds to my anxiety level. I'm that kind of girl.
Thank you for listening. Oh, and I'm eating an apple. It tastes like contraband.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Get off yer asses
It's been a tough week for anyone with a pulse and a heart. The pictures out of New Orleans are difficult - to the point that I can't watch TV without a pervasive sense of anguish - so I don't if the hubster (aka: news junkie) has the tube on.
I am so angry at our government - who seems to always find money to send to other countries asap but did nothing in New Orleans until the news media reported women being raped and babies dying in a largely African-American poor population. Is it me being cynical or does it seem to you too that cities with a larger white/affluent population got aid first?
What gets me deep inside is that the Bushies diverted money that was supposed to go into fixing the levees in N.O - after many studies that had told them that the levees would fail a major storm or hurricane. I mean, really. You don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out. And with all the warnings we've had over the last few years about increasing hurricane and storm activity - by withdrawing funding, they basically condemned people to death. And yes - I have no love for Bush or any of his disgustingly corrupt cronies, but this goes beyond that. I expected our military/National Guard/whomever Bush hasn't sent to get killed for a war we shouldn't be involved in/ to be in N.O within a day or two, the way we were in Indonesia. What happened???
If you really want to look closely, take a peek at the person running FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency. Bush fired James Witt, a FEMA and disaster aid professional who had turned the agency around but was a Clinton appointee (oh, the horror!)and put his crony, an inexperienced Joe Albaugh in to run the agency. It was an unmitigated disaster. He then appointed Michael Brown, an estate lawyer and another friend and crony to run things. We all know how much estate lawyers understand about FEMA. I mean, they teach that stuff to lawyers, don't they? Right up there with tort law and contracts ... they have a section on "managing a disaster". Right. Read a bit about this here.
I've actually heard people rail on about how dare those New Orlean's folks expect us to cover their asses when they live under sea level ... NEWSFLASH - a large part of the Netherlands (Holland to the uninitiated) is under sea level and they have an elaborate dyke and levee system which they tend to regularly.
Not to mention that the building of N.O started some hundreds of years ago before the concept of "sea level" had hit. I suppose you could use that same rationale to prevent aid going to California when the big one hits. "Heck, they knew about that fault, their problem". If you think that way, then you don't have the aforementioned heart.
There are many sites out there with good links to donate - and donate what you can, folks. The fine folks at Go Fug Yourself whom I adore, have an excellent list, just to mention one. Day writes a poignant entry about her own experiences with Hurricane Andrew. Cecily has a list going of interesting reads and options for donations - check out the comment section too.
We are broke and seriously so, but I am rounding up old clothes, stuff I was saving for a garage sale like dishes and a perfectly good but older coffee maker, unused house paint and painting supplies - anything I can find that I think will be useful. If we can do it here at Chez Chaos, more than likely you can too.
And yes, I am still grumpy and uncomfortable and generally not feeling well. In case you couldn't tell.
I am so angry at our government - who seems to always find money to send to other countries asap but did nothing in New Orleans until the news media reported women being raped and babies dying in a largely African-American poor population. Is it me being cynical or does it seem to you too that cities with a larger white/affluent population got aid first?
What gets me deep inside is that the Bushies diverted money that was supposed to go into fixing the levees in N.O - after many studies that had told them that the levees would fail a major storm or hurricane. I mean, really. You don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out. And with all the warnings we've had over the last few years about increasing hurricane and storm activity - by withdrawing funding, they basically condemned people to death. And yes - I have no love for Bush or any of his disgustingly corrupt cronies, but this goes beyond that. I expected our military/National Guard/whomever Bush hasn't sent to get killed for a war we shouldn't be involved in/ to be in N.O within a day or two, the way we were in Indonesia. What happened???
If you really want to look closely, take a peek at the person running FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency. Bush fired James Witt, a FEMA and disaster aid professional who had turned the agency around but was a Clinton appointee (oh, the horror!)and put his crony, an inexperienced Joe Albaugh in to run the agency. It was an unmitigated disaster. He then appointed Michael Brown, an estate lawyer and another friend and crony to run things. We all know how much estate lawyers understand about FEMA. I mean, they teach that stuff to lawyers, don't they? Right up there with tort law and contracts ... they have a section on "managing a disaster". Right. Read a bit about this here.
I've actually heard people rail on about how dare those New Orlean's folks expect us to cover their asses when they live under sea level ... NEWSFLASH - a large part of the Netherlands (Holland to the uninitiated) is under sea level and they have an elaborate dyke and levee system which they tend to regularly.
Not to mention that the building of N.O started some hundreds of years ago before the concept of "sea level" had hit. I suppose you could use that same rationale to prevent aid going to California when the big one hits. "Heck, they knew about that fault, their problem". If you think that way, then you don't have the aforementioned heart.
There are many sites out there with good links to donate - and donate what you can, folks. The fine folks at Go Fug Yourself whom I adore, have an excellent list, just to mention one. Day writes a poignant entry about her own experiences with Hurricane Andrew. Cecily has a list going of interesting reads and options for donations - check out the comment section too.
We are broke and seriously so, but I am rounding up old clothes, stuff I was saving for a garage sale like dishes and a perfectly good but older coffee maker, unused house paint and painting supplies - anything I can find that I think will be useful. If we can do it here at Chez Chaos, more than likely you can too.
And yes, I am still grumpy and uncomfortable and generally not feeling well. In case you couldn't tell.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Pre-baby blues
First off - an update on the lovely "surprise" shower given by my mother in law. And yes, I acted surprised, don't worry. I was, a bit. It really was wonderful - and my mom called halfway through and I couldn't stop crying. Funny how even at the age of 39 you still want your mom around for stuff like that. Most of John's family was there, along with some dear girlfriends - so small and lovely. I feel very lucky and blessed by this universe.
We got lots of clothing and lotions and potions and stuff for the room itself and a couple of gift cards. MIL bought us a changing table which we returned because it doesn't go with the crib - but I'm keeping my eyes open for something similar. Today I went out and bought a Graco Snugride of the Kentshire variety as a car infant seat - the Target cards came in very handy! It was a wonderful day, and I am very grateful for having so much love in my life. John's family has been very good to me. I won't get into the crazy sister in law thing. Be thankful.
Today I'm in a funky and weird kind of mood. All I can say is "thank heaven the house is quiet, theturdteen is at school and I'm all alone.
There is so much I want to do to the baby's room and I can't. It sucks. I feel like I'm treading water right now and I don't like it much.
As a diversion, I've decided to make a list of "Stupid Things Patients Ask Us". Now I know we've all been told that there's no such thing as a stupid question, but friends - really, we all know there is. Oh yes, there are many MANY stupid questions and comments and I would swear that a large percentage of them are directed at your friendly neighbourhood nurse.
Now just to elucidate (yeah, I had to look that up too), I work in an endoscopy clinic. We do colonoscopies and upper endoscopies, where we look into patient's stomachs through their mouth. Patients get detailed instructions on preparing for their procedures from their doctors, including drinking clear liquids only (with a list of what they can have) and taking certain medications to clean themselves out and the need for someone to drive them home, as they'll have been sedated. They also get a detailed map of our location, as we serve three different gastro-intestinal specialist's practices - we are a semi-independent facility.
Because ofa high stupidity factorgood customer service relations, we call them ahead of time and go over the basics with them. And still, the dumb questions continue. Let me mention that I have a soft spot for the elderly - they often don't understand the way things are done in modern medicine, in my experience - so these are not comments made by elderly people. Without further ado, here is my list of "Stupid Things People Ask or Say".
1)Is Cool-Whip a clear liquid? (hmmmm. solid. And opaque. I can see how you might think that ...)
2) Can I use toothpaste? (Do you EAT toothpaste??? If not, please do, Sir. We don't want to deal with your morning breath).
3)Is *my* doctor doing the procedure? (Did you schedule it with *your* doctor?)
4)I spoke to my lawyer and he said you don't have any right to ask me for my insurance card and picture ID! (Please find another lawyer, Ma'am)
5)Can I also get a Pap smear while you're doing this? (Said by a patient having an upper endoscopy).
6)Why do you need a list of my medications? (Ummm ...)
7)You can't force me to have someone drive me home!! I'll be able to drive! (Sir, if you really want to be disagreeable about this, please book your procedure somewhere else. This is the center's policy and yelling at ME isn't going to change a thing. If you really can't understand why you need someone to drive you home, I bet you drink and drive, too. Now please leave me alone. Thank you.)
8)My wife has no pulse!!! (Said by the obnoxious husband - also a surgeon (!!!) -of a patient. Meanwhile, said wife was sitting up in bed, talking to me.)Be very careful of general surgeons in the DC area. I'm just sayin'.
9)Can I eat applesauce?
"No Ma'am, it's not a clear liquid".
"But it says here that I can have apple juice."
"Yes Ma'am, apple juice is a clear liquid".
"But I can't have applesauce??"
"No Ma'am, applesauce is neither clear, nor a liquid".
10) "Can I eat grapes?"
"No Ma'am, grapes are not a clear liquid."
"But it says I can have white grape juice."
"Yes Ma'am, white grape juice is a clear liquid. Just like apple juice."
Silence. (one guess if that was the same patient as #9).
11) "Ma'am?"
"Yes? "
"The same thing goes for white cranberry juice and cranberries."
"Oh. I was going to ask."
12)If I have an upper endoscopy and a colonoscopy, do the tubes (scopes) meet in the middle? (Only if you don't have 30 feet or so of small intestine, Sir)
13)"Have you ever had a heart attack, Sir?"
"No, but I had an Xray of my heart and it showed a large tube or something"
"Can you tell me a little about this tube?"
"No"
"Do you have a cardiologist or heart doctor, Sir?"
"Yes"
"Do you know his name?"
"No"
(Turned out that the patient had an aortic aneurysm. Ooops)
I could go on but I won't. I thought this would be funnier than it is - upon re-reading it, it's pretty sad.
Yeah, pre-baby blues.
We got lots of clothing and lotions and potions and stuff for the room itself and a couple of gift cards. MIL bought us a changing table which we returned because it doesn't go with the crib - but I'm keeping my eyes open for something similar. Today I went out and bought a Graco Snugride of the Kentshire variety as a car infant seat - the Target cards came in very handy! It was a wonderful day, and I am very grateful for having so much love in my life. John's family has been very good to me. I won't get into the crazy sister in law thing. Be thankful.
Today I'm in a funky and weird kind of mood. All I can say is "thank heaven the house is quiet, the
There is so much I want to do to the baby's room and I can't. It sucks. I feel like I'm treading water right now and I don't like it much.
As a diversion, I've decided to make a list of "Stupid Things Patients Ask Us". Now I know we've all been told that there's no such thing as a stupid question, but friends - really, we all know there is. Oh yes, there are many MANY stupid questions and comments and I would swear that a large percentage of them are directed at your friendly neighbourhood nurse.
Now just to elucidate (yeah, I had to look that up too), I work in an endoscopy clinic. We do colonoscopies and upper endoscopies, where we look into patient's stomachs through their mouth. Patients get detailed instructions on preparing for their procedures from their doctors, including drinking clear liquids only (with a list of what they can have) and taking certain medications to clean themselves out and the need for someone to drive them home, as they'll have been sedated. They also get a detailed map of our location, as we serve three different gastro-intestinal specialist's practices - we are a semi-independent facility.
Because of
1)Is Cool-Whip a clear liquid? (hmmmm. solid. And opaque. I can see how you might think that ...)
2) Can I use toothpaste? (Do you EAT toothpaste??? If not, please do, Sir. We don't want to deal with your morning breath).
3)Is *my* doctor doing the procedure? (Did you schedule it with *your* doctor?)
4)I spoke to my lawyer and he said you don't have any right to ask me for my insurance card and picture ID! (Please find another lawyer, Ma'am)
5)Can I also get a Pap smear while you're doing this? (Said by a patient having an upper endoscopy).
6)Why do you need a list of my medications? (Ummm ...)
7)You can't force me to have someone drive me home!! I'll be able to drive! (Sir, if you really want to be disagreeable about this, please book your procedure somewhere else. This is the center's policy and yelling at ME isn't going to change a thing. If you really can't understand why you need someone to drive you home, I bet you drink and drive, too. Now please leave me alone. Thank you.)
8)My wife has no pulse!!! (Said by the obnoxious husband - also a surgeon (!!!) -of a patient. Meanwhile, said wife was sitting up in bed, talking to me.)Be very careful of general surgeons in the DC area. I'm just sayin'.
9)Can I eat applesauce?
"No Ma'am, it's not a clear liquid".
"But it says here that I can have apple juice."
"Yes Ma'am, apple juice is a clear liquid".
"But I can't have applesauce??"
"No Ma'am, applesauce is neither clear, nor a liquid".
10) "Can I eat grapes?"
"No Ma'am, grapes are not a clear liquid."
"But it says I can have white grape juice."
"Yes Ma'am, white grape juice is a clear liquid. Just like apple juice."
Silence. (one guess if that was the same patient as #9).
11) "Ma'am?"
"Yes? "
"The same thing goes for white cranberry juice and cranberries."
"Oh. I was going to ask."
12)If I have an upper endoscopy and a colonoscopy, do the tubes (scopes) meet in the middle? (Only if you don't have 30 feet or so of small intestine, Sir)
13)"Have you ever had a heart attack, Sir?"
"No, but I had an Xray of my heart and it showed a large tube or something"
"Can you tell me a little about this tube?"
"No"
"Do you have a cardiologist or heart doctor, Sir?"
"Yes"
"Do you know his name?"
"No"
(Turned out that the patient had an aortic aneurysm. Ooops)
I could go on but I won't. I thought this would be funnier than it is - upon re-reading it, it's pretty sad.
Yeah, pre-baby blues.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Not so impressed
So maybe I'm paranoid - shut up, I can hear you snickering at the "maybe" - but shouldn't a doctor seeing a relatively high-risk patient have the WHOLE chart in front of her on an OB visit?
Let me back up just a tad and say that I saw one of the OBs in the practice on Thursday morning, one I hadn't met before. She seemed fairly competent - it was hard to say because of the following:
1) When I mentioned my blood sugars to her, she said "Oh, do you have gestational diabetes? It's not in your chart."
2) When she asked me about contractions and problems and I answered "not since my visit to the hospital with PTL" she said - Oh, that's not in your chart"
3) She then asked me if I had ever had my amniocentesis results (!!!) and when I answered in the affirmative, she asked me what I was having - it wasn't in the chart.
She measured me and said I was bang on 30-31 weeks, so she saw no need for an ultrasound. I told her that I indeed wanted an ultrasound to see the size of the baby - "well" she said, "I guess we could do that in two weeks time on your next visit. We could code it for GD ... and I guess we could use AMA too (advanced maternal age)". I didn't tell her that I didn't give a shit how she coded it - I want to know how big this boy is and I have that right considering I have a GD diagnosis. She then told me she couldn't really tell which way the baby was lying from doing Leopold maneuvers. Hmmm. While His Highness is indeed a squirmy worm and I am sure from moment to moment that his toes are alternately in my cootch and then my ribs, I thought an experienced OB would be ...well ... more capable.
All in all, I wasn't very happy when I left - I did get scheduled for an ultrasound during my next visit in 2 weeks and I will be going to the Rockville office again, a 40 minute drive from here. *sigh*.
And that, I think, is the root of the problem. Because they are so short-staffed (2 OBs have left recently because of malpractice insurance costs) I can't get scheduled in the Frederick office - so they keep shunting me and my chart from office to office. But that still doesn't justify the pathetic lack of charting or the omissions thereof.
I called the office manager the next day and politely told her that what I had encountered the previous day was unacceptable. I was very nice (I hear you snickering again) but I told her in no uncertain terms that as a high-risk patient coming to their practice, I was perturbed at the lack of continuity of care and appropriate charting, and while I understood their staff issues, etc., this was unacceptable.
She completely agreed with me, which was good - she also told me that they are soon switching to electronic charting which would eliminate the problem. She will "definitely look into this". I left it there but I'll tell you, I'm not feeling the love. And this late in the game, it doesn't inspire me with confidence. I'm just not sure where I go from here.
Updated to add Just had my visit from the home healthcare RN who let me listen to the baby's heartbeat. I am in a very mellow mood now. Oh, and we're going to my mother-in-law's for what my husband stammeringly called "dinner". I'm thinking "baby shower". How exciting!!!
Let me back up just a tad and say that I saw one of the OBs in the practice on Thursday morning, one I hadn't met before. She seemed fairly competent - it was hard to say because of the following:
1) When I mentioned my blood sugars to her, she said "Oh, do you have gestational diabetes? It's not in your chart."
2) When she asked me about contractions and problems and I answered "not since my visit to the hospital with PTL" she said - Oh, that's not in your chart"
3) She then asked me if I had ever had my amniocentesis results (!!!) and when I answered in the affirmative, she asked me what I was having - it wasn't in the chart.
She measured me and said I was bang on 30-31 weeks, so she saw no need for an ultrasound. I told her that I indeed wanted an ultrasound to see the size of the baby - "well" she said, "I guess we could do that in two weeks time on your next visit. We could code it for GD ... and I guess we could use AMA too (advanced maternal age)". I didn't tell her that I didn't give a shit how she coded it - I want to know how big this boy is and I have that right considering I have a GD diagnosis. She then told me she couldn't really tell which way the baby was lying from doing Leopold maneuvers. Hmmm. While His Highness is indeed a squirmy worm and I am sure from moment to moment that his toes are alternately in my cootch and then my ribs, I thought an experienced OB would be ...well ... more capable.
All in all, I wasn't very happy when I left - I did get scheduled for an ultrasound during my next visit in 2 weeks and I will be going to the Rockville office again, a 40 minute drive from here. *sigh*.
And that, I think, is the root of the problem. Because they are so short-staffed (2 OBs have left recently because of malpractice insurance costs) I can't get scheduled in the Frederick office - so they keep shunting me and my chart from office to office. But that still doesn't justify the pathetic lack of charting or the omissions thereof.
I called the office manager the next day and politely told her that what I had encountered the previous day was unacceptable. I was very nice (I hear you snickering again) but I told her in no uncertain terms that as a high-risk patient coming to their practice, I was perturbed at the lack of continuity of care and appropriate charting, and while I understood their staff issues, etc., this was unacceptable.
She completely agreed with me, which was good - she also told me that they are soon switching to electronic charting which would eliminate the problem. She will "definitely look into this". I left it there but I'll tell you, I'm not feeling the love. And this late in the game, it doesn't inspire me with confidence. I'm just not sure where I go from here.
Updated to add Just had my visit from the home healthcare RN who let me listen to the baby's heartbeat. I am in a very mellow mood now. Oh, and we're going to my mother-in-law's for what my husband stammeringly called "dinner". I'm thinking "baby shower". How exciting!!!
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
My first day as a gestational diabetes patient
The diabetic educator was over here on Sunday. Who would've thought that they'd send someone on a Sunday here in church-land? I was pleased. She did her best to explain everything but it's still rather overwhelming.
I don't mind the portioning so much as I do the lack of freedom to eat when I want. I graze pretty frequently ... nix that, I used to graze and nibble a lot - now I can't do that until I've checked my sugar - and I'm checking my sugar two hours after every meal. Oh and when I wake up I check my pee for ketones and check a fasting blood sugar. In short, I'm a pincushion. The non-grazing, hungry type.
For those who are following along at home, here's the schedule:
Wake up at Omygodit'searly and dip urine. Shake head at the ketones that appear there. Check fasting blood sugar while bleary-eyed and try not to miss the test strip. Eat "breakfast" which is now limited to only one carb selection, so no milk(carb) and cereal(carb) but half an English muffin with some Canadian bacon and cheddar cheese. Have coffee and put milk and a touch of sugar in it anyway. Go to the bathroom again. Fill up 32 oz water bottle for the trip to work.
Get to work. Go to the bathroom. Check sugar 2 hours after breakfast. Shake head how it's just slightly above the cutoff of 120, at 123. Figure that someone must have added sugar to the cheddar cheese. Drink water. Go to the bathroom again. Call diabetic center and enter readings on computerized system.
Get call back from an RN to discuss my ketones and elevated sugars in an attempt to regulate me better. She wants me to eat a snack before bed. I explain that I work till 6, don't get home till close to 7 and therefore don't eat till around 8 and that staying up till 10 to check my sugar is all I can do in my current state. She hmmms understandingly and advises a snack anyway, or maybe an extra snack in the afternoon. She says no milk and sugar in my coffee. She also tells me to drink lots of water. I stifle my reply.
Eat snack 3 hours after breakfast. This is not easy in a busy nursing area, but my manager has actually been great about it. Of course, the snack is 6 (low sodium)Triscuits (not five. Nor seven. SIX)and 1 oz of cheddar cheese so it doesn't take long. I can hear my arteries groaning. Drink more water. Another bathroom break.
Call husbandly one to inform him that I need to eat dinner earlier. Advise him what is ready for cooking and if he can oblige. He says he will.
Go to the bathroom. Eat lunch around 3 hours after snack. A nice healthy salad with protein - something I normally eat anyway - and a piece of fruit. The Propel water I bought the teenager and of which I snagged one to try is DISGUSTING. So much for that idea. Drink water instead. Go to the bathroom again. Fill up water bottle.
Another bathroom visit. This is getting old. Check sugar two hours after lunch. It's ... 96!!!! YES!!! The crowd goes wild and tells me to drink more water.
Another snack. This time it's my much loved cereal and 1% milk. Nature's Path Honey'd Raisin Bran, folks. I'll drive miles just to find it. You heard it here. Besides, I need the fiber. No need for bathroom just yet.
Go to the bathroom and then drive home. Grumble hungrily about the lack of fruit in my diet. Drink water. Wonder if my bladder will last the drive and thank the gods for the lack of traffic on 270 (for once).
Arrive home. No dinner is being cooked. Try to rush to bathroom and am interrupted mid-flight by Husbandly one who immediately enters kitchen upon my arrival with claim of "I'll cook dinner". I tell him it's not necessary as I'm here NOW ... the issue is eating dinner EARLIER. I tell him in caps, so he gets it. He insists guiltily on doing it anyway. I end up chopping the broccoli anyway as he protests he is unsure what to do. For a man who can figure out woodworking on his own, he sure is helpless. Leave him in kitchen so I can visit the bathroom. Finally.
Eat dinner at 7:30. Jr's friend is eating with us. Jr's chores are not done. I say nothing much. I eat too much protein but am very careful with the carbs. I fill up on veggies, which is fine, I love em. Drink more water. Eat two plums for dessert with the realization that I can!! Wooohoooo!!!! Fruit!!! We watch the Cowboys and Seahawks as I drink my water.
An hour later eat a half popsicle as Diabetic Educator has said anything 10grams of carb or under is a free food. Go to the bathroom. An hour after that, my sugar is 171. OOps. I stare at the watermelon in the refrigerator lovingly.
Call the diabetes hotline. She tells me to drink more water and still eat my evening snack. I dispatch my triscuits and cheese with gusto and drink more water. Go to the bathroom several more times between then and sleep time.
Sleep through the night without ONE bathroom break. I am amazed at that realization when I awake far too early on my day off. Pee. I have ketones again. Go back to sleep.
Wake two hours later and pee again. Ketones, same amount. Check my blood sugar ... it's 96!! Woohoooo!! Go downstairs and fix the other half of the English muffin with Canadian bacon and cheddar. Pour coffee and add a 1/2 tsp of sugar and a dollop of milk.
Realize the teenager has still not done his chores. Shrug and write this.
I don't mind the portioning so much as I do the lack of freedom to eat when I want. I graze pretty frequently ... nix that, I used to graze and nibble a lot - now I can't do that until I've checked my sugar - and I'm checking my sugar two hours after every meal. Oh and when I wake up I check my pee for ketones and check a fasting blood sugar. In short, I'm a pincushion. The non-grazing, hungry type.
For those who are following along at home, here's the schedule:
Wake up at Omygodit'searly and dip urine. Shake head at the ketones that appear there. Check fasting blood sugar while bleary-eyed and try not to miss the test strip. Eat "breakfast" which is now limited to only one carb selection, so no milk(carb) and cereal(carb) but half an English muffin with some Canadian bacon and cheddar cheese. Have coffee and put milk and a touch of sugar in it anyway. Go to the bathroom again. Fill up 32 oz water bottle for the trip to work.
Get to work. Go to the bathroom. Check sugar 2 hours after breakfast. Shake head how it's just slightly above the cutoff of 120, at 123. Figure that someone must have added sugar to the cheddar cheese. Drink water. Go to the bathroom again. Call diabetic center and enter readings on computerized system.
Get call back from an RN to discuss my ketones and elevated sugars in an attempt to regulate me better. She wants me to eat a snack before bed. I explain that I work till 6, don't get home till close to 7 and therefore don't eat till around 8 and that staying up till 10 to check my sugar is all I can do in my current state. She hmmms understandingly and advises a snack anyway, or maybe an extra snack in the afternoon. She says no milk and sugar in my coffee. She also tells me to drink lots of water. I stifle my reply.
Eat snack 3 hours after breakfast. This is not easy in a busy nursing area, but my manager has actually been great about it. Of course, the snack is 6 (low sodium)Triscuits (not five. Nor seven. SIX)and 1 oz of cheddar cheese so it doesn't take long. I can hear my arteries groaning. Drink more water. Another bathroom break.
Call husbandly one to inform him that I need to eat dinner earlier. Advise him what is ready for cooking and if he can oblige. He says he will.
Go to the bathroom. Eat lunch around 3 hours after snack. A nice healthy salad with protein - something I normally eat anyway - and a piece of fruit. The Propel water I bought the teenager and of which I snagged one to try is DISGUSTING. So much for that idea. Drink water instead. Go to the bathroom again. Fill up water bottle.
Another bathroom visit. This is getting old. Check sugar two hours after lunch. It's ... 96!!!! YES!!! The crowd goes wild and tells me to drink more water.
Another snack. This time it's my much loved cereal and 1% milk. Nature's Path Honey'd Raisin Bran, folks. I'll drive miles just to find it. You heard it here. Besides, I need the fiber. No need for bathroom just yet.
Go to the bathroom and then drive home. Grumble hungrily about the lack of fruit in my diet. Drink water. Wonder if my bladder will last the drive and thank the gods for the lack of traffic on 270 (for once).
Arrive home. No dinner is being cooked. Try to rush to bathroom and am interrupted mid-flight by Husbandly one who immediately enters kitchen upon my arrival with claim of "I'll cook dinner". I tell him it's not necessary as I'm here NOW ... the issue is eating dinner EARLIER. I tell him in caps, so he gets it. He insists guiltily on doing it anyway. I end up chopping the broccoli anyway as he protests he is unsure what to do. For a man who can figure out woodworking on his own, he sure is helpless. Leave him in kitchen so I can visit the bathroom. Finally.
Eat dinner at 7:30. Jr's friend is eating with us. Jr's chores are not done. I say nothing much. I eat too much protein but am very careful with the carbs. I fill up on veggies, which is fine, I love em. Drink more water. Eat two plums for dessert with the realization that I can!! Wooohoooo!!!! Fruit!!! We watch the Cowboys and Seahawks as I drink my water.
An hour later eat a half popsicle as Diabetic Educator has said anything 10grams of carb or under is a free food. Go to the bathroom. An hour after that, my sugar is 171. OOps. I stare at the watermelon in the refrigerator lovingly.
Call the diabetes hotline. She tells me to drink more water and still eat my evening snack. I dispatch my triscuits and cheese with gusto and drink more water. Go to the bathroom several more times between then and sleep time.
Sleep through the night without ONE bathroom break. I am amazed at that realization when I awake far too early on my day off. Pee. I have ketones again. Go back to sleep.
Wake two hours later and pee again. Ketones, same amount. Check my blood sugar ... it's 96!! Woohoooo!! Go downstairs and fix the other half of the English muffin with Canadian bacon and cheddar. Pour coffee and add a 1/2 tsp of sugar and a dollop of milk.
Realize the teenager has still not done his chores. Shrug and write this.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
This just infuriates me
Read about this Navy couple's ordeal at the hands of the US government here. Damn it, it's the Talibanization of America, courtesy of Mr GW Shrub and cronies.
Our reproductive rights are slowly being eroded. Not to mention this government's perturbing drop in sense of obligation towards our military. Oh wait ... I forgot. This is the "family values" government. And the "support our troops" government. Right.
Our reproductive rights are slowly being eroded. Not to mention this government's perturbing drop in sense of obligation towards our military. Oh wait ... I forgot. This is the "family values" government. And the "support our troops" government. Right.
Thank you
I wanted to thank all of you who posted on the "why we are bitter - or not"thread. I really do appreciate your insight, even if I don't always understand. Trust me, when I thought I would never get pregnant - or never have one that would hang around - I hurt and was somewhat bitter too. It's more my lack of understanding of those who go to extremes in their aversion to pregnant women. I just don't get that.
Also, a big thank you to all your posts of support about the gestational diabetes - very very much appreciated. I'm slowly coming around to see that it's not a death sentence or even close. The big box o diabetic stuff arrived yesterday, so the glucometer is in the building, together with assorted pincushion stuff and ketone measuring sticks and a nifty lil urine dip cup. Uh-huh. I got a call from the diabetic educator and she is going to pop by tomorrow around 10am. Wow. An actual visit on a Sunday here in God's country.
I went through the stuff in the big box and I think it's going to be a major change in the way I eat. The more I think about it, the more I realize how dependent I am on bread, fruit and popsicles. I do eat a lot of salads, but lately I've been bad. So, hopefully the diabetic educator will be able to show me the way, the truth and the light. It wouldn't hurt me to eat better anyway.
His Highness was apparently insulted by the lack of concern for his wellbeing as he decided to give me a good scare, starting with a lack of significant movement last night after dinner (we went out for BBQ because our neighbourhood had a complete power loss till 2am) and continuing with a lack of significant movement well into this morning, despite drinking something cold and sweet (sorry, diabetes). At which point I called the OB - it took him a fair while to call me back and by then HH had decided to kick me several times in an "hahahaha, gotcha" kind of way.
The OB reassured me that I had done the right thing by calling - I told him that I had tried lying down, counting movements and all that and that the baby had been sluggish since last night.
I also told him that since I called, he had perked up a bit (of course) which OB was pleased to hear. He told me to ALWAYS call about this kind of thing. He also told me we could do one of two things - either come in to L&D right away, or wait another hour and count movements since the baby seemed to be "waking up". He wanted 5 movements in 30 minutes, 10 in an hour. If we didn't get that, to call him and make our way to L&D.
So, I went and laid down for a while and John cuddled me (that sweet man) and sure enough, His Highness started kicking like crazy and moving around. So, I'm still here. I do have an OB visit this week at which I will insist on an ultrasound check for growth. I want to know how big this youngun is, exactly. I don't think that's an outrageous request at ...*gulp* 30 weeks.
So again - my thanks to all of you for reaching out to me with support and love. I really appreciate each and every one of you.
Also, a big thank you to all your posts of support about the gestational diabetes - very very much appreciated. I'm slowly coming around to see that it's not a death sentence or even close. The big box o diabetic stuff arrived yesterday, so the glucometer is in the building, together with assorted pincushion stuff and ketone measuring sticks and a nifty lil urine dip cup. Uh-huh. I got a call from the diabetic educator and she is going to pop by tomorrow around 10am. Wow. An actual visit on a Sunday here in God's country.
I went through the stuff in the big box and I think it's going to be a major change in the way I eat. The more I think about it, the more I realize how dependent I am on bread, fruit and popsicles. I do eat a lot of salads, but lately I've been bad. So, hopefully the diabetic educator will be able to show me the way, the truth and the light. It wouldn't hurt me to eat better anyway.
His Highness was apparently insulted by the lack of concern for his wellbeing as he decided to give me a good scare, starting with a lack of significant movement last night after dinner (we went out for BBQ because our neighbourhood had a complete power loss till 2am) and continuing with a lack of significant movement well into this morning, despite drinking something cold and sweet (sorry, diabetes). At which point I called the OB - it took him a fair while to call me back and by then HH had decided to kick me several times in an "hahahaha, gotcha" kind of way.
The OB reassured me that I had done the right thing by calling - I told him that I had tried lying down, counting movements and all that and that the baby had been sluggish since last night.
I also told him that since I called, he had perked up a bit (of course) which OB was pleased to hear. He told me to ALWAYS call about this kind of thing. He also told me we could do one of two things - either come in to L&D right away, or wait another hour and count movements since the baby seemed to be "waking up". He wanted 5 movements in 30 minutes, 10 in an hour. If we didn't get that, to call him and make our way to L&D.
So, I went and laid down for a while and John cuddled me (that sweet man) and sure enough, His Highness started kicking like crazy and moving around. So, I'm still here. I do have an OB visit this week at which I will insist on an ultrasound check for growth. I want to know how big this youngun is, exactly. I don't think that's an outrageous request at ...*gulp* 30 weeks.
So again - my thanks to all of you for reaching out to me with support and love. I really appreciate each and every one of you.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
It's official.
I have gestational diabetes.
I had a message on my voicemail last night from some home healthcare company, telling me my doctor (an OB at the practice, whom I've not yet met) had called to set up a visit with me - I assumed they had the wrong patient. That is until I called said home healthcare company this morning and found out I had failed my 3 hour GD test. I was rather ticked that I had found out that way, but a call to the doctor's office revealed their sheer astonishment that the healthcare company had called me that quickly as the RN had *just* been given the results herself.
Fasting blood glucose was 75, well within normal limits.
Blood glucose one hour post disgusting drink was 185. The range was 65-180, so not a terrible failure.
Blood glucose two hours post aforementioned vile and heartburn-causing beverage was 178. The range was 65-155. Oops.
My blood glucose after 3 hours was 132, or within the 65-140 range.
So, I will not be on insulin. I will be on a controlled diet. It seems that my insurance covers this 100% and I will be sent a glucometer to measure my blood sugar and that either an RN or a dietician will actually come to my home and go over everything with me. I know it will be doable - it's just a bummer and I've been trying really hard not to get too down and depressed about this. It's brought me a step closer to a c-section and I really don't want to go that route, even if it *does* give me an extra 2 weeks of short term disability.
My very sweet husband called me this afternoon to see if I was doing ok, then started telling me of all the risks of GD. It seems that after my rather terse and sad call to him with the news, he decided to get his degree in Google Medicine and spouted off to me in layman's terms all about macrosomy (large babies), shoulder dystocia (a shoulder displacement caused by trying to birth very large babies) and infant hypoglycemia - low blood sugar in the newly born infant, caused by too high levels of insulin as a result of high maternal blood sugars. He is very keen on controlling my sugars and I think he is darned sweet.
There is a decent article here about gestational diabetes, so I'll put it out there. Also here, an excellent overview and criticism. I have to admit, I was skeptical of my own results, but my two hour result does show some insulin resistance.
So, I'll be cutting back on fruit and popsicles which have been my two main squeezes this summer.
And, I'm sitting here trying not to get too depressed and wondering how I'm going to avoid a c-section. *sigh*.
I had a message on my voicemail last night from some home healthcare company, telling me my doctor (an OB at the practice, whom I've not yet met) had called to set up a visit with me - I assumed they had the wrong patient. That is until I called said home healthcare company this morning and found out I had failed my 3 hour GD test. I was rather ticked that I had found out that way, but a call to the doctor's office revealed their sheer astonishment that the healthcare company had called me that quickly as the RN had *just* been given the results herself.
Fasting blood glucose was 75, well within normal limits.
Blood glucose one hour post disgusting drink was 185. The range was 65-180, so not a terrible failure.
Blood glucose two hours post aforementioned vile and heartburn-causing beverage was 178. The range was 65-155. Oops.
My blood glucose after 3 hours was 132, or within the 65-140 range.
So, I will not be on insulin. I will be on a controlled diet. It seems that my insurance covers this 100% and I will be sent a glucometer to measure my blood sugar and that either an RN or a dietician will actually come to my home and go over everything with me. I know it will be doable - it's just a bummer and I've been trying really hard not to get too down and depressed about this. It's brought me a step closer to a c-section and I really don't want to go that route, even if it *does* give me an extra 2 weeks of short term disability.
My very sweet husband called me this afternoon to see if I was doing ok, then started telling me of all the risks of GD. It seems that after my rather terse and sad call to him with the news, he decided to get his degree in Google Medicine and spouted off to me in layman's terms all about macrosomy (large babies), shoulder dystocia (a shoulder displacement caused by trying to birth very large babies) and infant hypoglycemia - low blood sugar in the newly born infant, caused by too high levels of insulin as a result of high maternal blood sugars. He is very keen on controlling my sugars and I think he is darned sweet.
There is a decent article here about gestational diabetes, so I'll put it out there. Also here, an excellent overview and criticism. I have to admit, I was skeptical of my own results, but my two hour result does show some insulin resistance.
So, I'll be cutting back on fruit and popsicles which have been my two main squeezes this summer.
And, I'm sitting here trying not to get too depressed and wondering how I'm going to avoid a c-section. *sigh*.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
I understand the pain ... it's the bitterness that eludes me
Most of the people who read this blog have come here from the shores of infertility or subfertility. Most of us have experienced difficulty with conception, pregnancy, or carrying to term. Some have had to use various degrees of technology to create what I assume most of us thought we be the simple act of reproduction. Most of us have suffered losses that could shatter your heart. Some of us have chosen to adopt. Some of us have chosen to let the dream fade. And the shades thereof are stunning - so many of us have traveled a path no one else has walked.
Maybe it's the "shades thereof" that makes it seem that there is a continental divide in the infertility blogosphere regarding pregnancy itself - which I don't understand. I don't get the hostility - maybe that's a strong word but it's there so I'm using it - towards pregnant women.
I know how hard this journey has been for me - that's all I truly understand in depth. I don't pretend to understand everyone else's pain but some things strike me as being odd. For example, what's with this supposed aversion to pregnant women rubbing their bellies? Why is that such a big deal? Personally, I deal with Braxton Hicks on a regular basis ... I rub because it feels better. Why are we only supposed to understand the side of the current infertile on this?
What's with the horror at seeing pregnant women at baby stores (or anywhere else, for that matter)of all places? I mean, really. I don't understand the visceral reaction to "seeing" pregnant women. Some of us who have suffered greatly are here now - is our past pain and current worry so much less than other's suffering just because we attained that elusive grail?
I do understand the pain ... the only time I ever felt a need to comment was after listening to a visiting drug rep at work blathering on and on about her pregnancy - and I do mean on and on ... I left the room at one point and came back later and she was still yammering in this oh-so-bright voice...when I had just come back from suffering another miscarriage. It was raw and visceral and I nicely asked her to take her conversation elsewhere. You would have thought I had two heads by the look she gave me but I didn't give a crap. But just seeing her there wouldn't have bothered me- if she had kept her idiotic yap shut.
But the bitterness ... it raises the spectre that no matter how close some are to actually having a child, or bringing one home - that the pain doesn't go away for them. And that saddens me more than I can explain.
There are things I would never do. For example, I would never bring a child to an RE's office unless it was absolutely, unavoidably necessary and I can't see that ever happening. I think that's way too painful for too many people. I would never go to an RE's office and sit in their waiting room in my current condition ... hell no. I never volunteer information about my pregnancy but I will answer questions if asked (and I am asked all the darned time, I deal with patients every day).
I try to be patient - I hear the "how old are you" in people's voices when they inevitably receive the answer to "Is this your first?" - but I also hear the "how exciting!" when I say "yes, it's our first at long last". I dealt with the insensitivity of people who just didn't understand that "relaxing" wasn't going to make this pregnancy happen (even from my own family, which has dealt with stage 4 endo, adoption and other miscellany and still doesn't "get it"). Or the silence from friends and family who didn't know what to say. And on and on ...
The incredible sorrow of being infertile- that I understand completely - it needs no explanation. But the sheer raw bitterness of some out there eludes me, even those for whom solutions and answers are imminent. Do you understand it? Because I would like to understand.
Maybe it's the "shades thereof" that makes it seem that there is a continental divide in the infertility blogosphere regarding pregnancy itself - which I don't understand. I don't get the hostility - maybe that's a strong word but it's there so I'm using it - towards pregnant women.
I know how hard this journey has been for me - that's all I truly understand in depth. I don't pretend to understand everyone else's pain but some things strike me as being odd. For example, what's with this supposed aversion to pregnant women rubbing their bellies? Why is that such a big deal? Personally, I deal with Braxton Hicks on a regular basis ... I rub because it feels better. Why are we only supposed to understand the side of the current infertile on this?
What's with the horror at seeing pregnant women at baby stores (or anywhere else, for that matter)of all places? I mean, really. I don't understand the visceral reaction to "seeing" pregnant women. Some of us who have suffered greatly are here now - is our past pain and current worry so much less than other's suffering just because we attained that elusive grail?
I do understand the pain ... the only time I ever felt a need to comment was after listening to a visiting drug rep at work blathering on and on about her pregnancy - and I do mean on and on ... I left the room at one point and came back later and she was still yammering in this oh-so-bright voice...when I had just come back from suffering another miscarriage. It was raw and visceral and I nicely asked her to take her conversation elsewhere. You would have thought I had two heads by the look she gave me but I didn't give a crap. But just seeing her there wouldn't have bothered me- if she had kept her idiotic yap shut.
But the bitterness ... it raises the spectre that no matter how close some are to actually having a child, or bringing one home - that the pain doesn't go away for them. And that saddens me more than I can explain.
There are things I would never do. For example, I would never bring a child to an RE's office unless it was absolutely, unavoidably necessary and I can't see that ever happening. I think that's way too painful for too many people. I would never go to an RE's office and sit in their waiting room in my current condition ... hell no. I never volunteer information about my pregnancy but I will answer questions if asked (and I am asked all the darned time, I deal with patients every day).
I try to be patient - I hear the "how old are you" in people's voices when they inevitably receive the answer to "Is this your first?" - but I also hear the "how exciting!" when I say "yes, it's our first at long last". I dealt with the insensitivity of people who just didn't understand that "relaxing" wasn't going to make this pregnancy happen (even from my own family, which has dealt with stage 4 endo, adoption and other miscellany and still doesn't "get it"). Or the silence from friends and family who didn't know what to say. And on and on ...
The incredible sorrow of being infertile- that I understand completely - it needs no explanation. But the sheer raw bitterness of some out there eludes me, even those for whom solutions and answers are imminent. Do you understand it? Because I would like to understand.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Guess who failed her one hour GD test?
Yours truly.
The cutoff was 139. I scored 149. The RN at the doctor's office asked me if I had been fasting and I told her that I had been. She said "oh, you weren't supposed to". To which I replied "it would have been helpful if someone told me that beforehand".
She apologized but the lab slips for the 3 hour test are on their way. Oy.
So, if I fail that ... no sugar/carbs. And no salt, because of my swelling. I think that leaves me with celery, a piece of chicken and some Mrs Dash.
I am readying myself for the inevitable. I understand I am supposed to load up on carbs for two-three days prior to my test (which will be Tuesday). Last night I had the last of the NY Super Fudge Chunk. This morning I am having a Montreal bagel (my apologies to those who have never experienced that particular glory). I will be buying a large watermelon this weekend and much summer fruit. May it never be said I wouldn't give my body for science.
The cutoff was 139. I scored 149. The RN at the doctor's office asked me if I had been fasting and I told her that I had been. She said "oh, you weren't supposed to". To which I replied "it would have been helpful if someone told me that beforehand".
She apologized but the lab slips for the 3 hour test are on their way. Oy.
So, if I fail that ... no sugar/carbs. And no salt, because of my swelling. I think that leaves me with celery, a piece of chicken and some Mrs Dash.
I am readying myself for the inevitable. I understand I am supposed to load up on carbs for two-three days prior to my test (which will be Tuesday). Last night I had the last of the NY Super Fudge Chunk. This morning I am having a Montreal bagel (my apologies to those who have never experienced that particular glory). I will be buying a large watermelon this weekend and much summer fruit. May it never be said I wouldn't give my body for science.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
A day in the life
A quick update before I completely zonk out.
07:30 - visit to the lab for dreaded gestational diabetes testing. Said visit included a disgusting orange drink and another pregnant woman in the waiting room who had two of her ex-utero already obese spawn with her as well, including one who kept throwing herself around the waiting room, desperate for anyone's attention. It was not good.
A brief bout of dizziness post 4 vial(!!!) blood-draw and I had to hang out a while longer. Joy.
09:30 - a return home to get my paperwork upon the realization that I had to go get my next Rhogam shot apres OB visit this afternoon. Then long drive to Rockville while feeling crappy.
10:45 - time of alleged visit to OB.
11:30 - actual time of entry into OB's office. Oh wait. I forgot the weigh-in, where I was informed I had gained SIX pounds since my last visit some 2-3 weeks ago. YIKES! I finally saw the OB - he was very nice as always and clucked concernedly about my trip to L&D. Then he clucked about my weight gain and measured my belly - I am measuring exactly 28 weeks - and the baby's heartrate was 140s again, stellar. My BP was fine ... but I have protein in the urine. And white cells. So, we've sent that off for culture. For those of you playing along at home ... protein in urine and weight gain ... 2 indicators for pre-eclampsia. Fortunately my BP was 110/70 but he sounded a tad concerned. He also told me that I MUST go eat, as I was feeling cruddy, post GD test. I go back in two weeks.
12:15 - visit to Japanese restaurant where I had soup and a small amount of sushi.
13:00 - Drive to nearby hospital for Rhogam shot as insurance won't reimburse the docs to give it in the office anymore. More blood drawn. I wait. And wait. And fall asleep. And wait. And realize my feet are slowly swelling.
14:45 - I am taken aside by the lab tech who tells me that my blood draw post amniocentesis showed that my Rhesus factor (the - or + in your blood) was a weak positive, so they gave the Rhogam. This time, she says, I am showing with a strong positive so I don't need the shot and she spoke to my OB who confirmed this. She offers to call the OBs office so I can speak to them and I do. I speak to the RN first, then the PA (physician's assistant) and relate my story to them regarding my O negative blood and the whole thing that happened in Canada. They then spoke to the OB who ok'd the Rhogam. Go back to sleep on the bench and wait.
15:20 - Finally get Rhogam shot on the "better safe than sorry" premise while people wonder aloud if I'm a mutant.
16:10 - arrive home and realize we are out of cat food. Remind a recalcitrant 16 year old to do his chores. Get back in the vehicle wearily and get cat food and a new catnip toy because my cats are my babies too. Mt feet are officially enormous.
16:40 - Fill cat food dish. Realize stepson is not wearing special Rx glasses. Ask him for whereabouts of said glasses. "I couldn't find them at mom's house". Father did not notice child was not wearing glasses upon picking him up yesterday. Call alleged mother who very snottily claims "he just won't wear his glasses (not that she would make him, or anything), they make him self- conscious. He wants lenses". Glasses were bought one month ago. There will be no lenses in the immediate future.
16:50 - Inform child that there will be no videogame playing as he has no glasses and that TV watching will also be curtailed. Reading will also be a problem.
17:30- Realize that child has left house without finishing chores. His father is now home. I am finishing this as child finally finishes chores and am ready to climb into bed.
17:40 - Realize that my stress level quadruples whenever Jr is in the house. Not good. Going to shut myself in my bedroom and feel sorry for myself. So much for my "day off".
07:30 - visit to the lab for dreaded gestational diabetes testing. Said visit included a disgusting orange drink and another pregnant woman in the waiting room who had two of her ex-utero already obese spawn with her as well, including one who kept throwing herself around the waiting room, desperate for anyone's attention. It was not good.
A brief bout of dizziness post 4 vial(!!!) blood-draw and I had to hang out a while longer. Joy.
09:30 - a return home to get my paperwork upon the realization that I had to go get my next Rhogam shot apres OB visit this afternoon. Then long drive to Rockville while feeling crappy.
10:45 - time of alleged visit to OB.
11:30 - actual time of entry into OB's office. Oh wait. I forgot the weigh-in, where I was informed I had gained SIX pounds since my last visit some 2-3 weeks ago. YIKES! I finally saw the OB - he was very nice as always and clucked concernedly about my trip to L&D. Then he clucked about my weight gain and measured my belly - I am measuring exactly 28 weeks - and the baby's heartrate was 140s again, stellar. My BP was fine ... but I have protein in the urine. And white cells. So, we've sent that off for culture. For those of you playing along at home ... protein in urine and weight gain ... 2 indicators for pre-eclampsia. Fortunately my BP was 110/70 but he sounded a tad concerned. He also told me that I MUST go eat, as I was feeling cruddy, post GD test. I go back in two weeks.
12:15 - visit to Japanese restaurant where I had soup and a small amount of sushi.
13:00 - Drive to nearby hospital for Rhogam shot as insurance won't reimburse the docs to give it in the office anymore. More blood drawn. I wait. And wait. And fall asleep. And wait. And realize my feet are slowly swelling.
14:45 - I am taken aside by the lab tech who tells me that my blood draw post amniocentesis showed that my Rhesus factor (the - or + in your blood) was a weak positive, so they gave the Rhogam. This time, she says, I am showing with a strong positive so I don't need the shot and she spoke to my OB who confirmed this. She offers to call the OBs office so I can speak to them and I do. I speak to the RN first, then the PA (physician's assistant) and relate my story to them regarding my O negative blood and the whole thing that happened in Canada. They then spoke to the OB who ok'd the Rhogam. Go back to sleep on the bench and wait.
15:20 - Finally get Rhogam shot on the "better safe than sorry" premise while people wonder aloud if I'm a mutant.
16:10 - arrive home and realize we are out of cat food. Remind a recalcitrant 16 year old to do his chores. Get back in the vehicle wearily and get cat food and a new catnip toy because my cats are my babies too. Mt feet are officially enormous.
16:40 - Fill cat food dish. Realize stepson is not wearing special Rx glasses. Ask him for whereabouts of said glasses. "I couldn't find them at mom's house". Father did not notice child was not wearing glasses upon picking him up yesterday. Call alleged mother who very snottily claims "he just won't wear his glasses (not that she would make him, or anything), they make him self- conscious. He wants lenses". Glasses were bought one month ago. There will be no lenses in the immediate future.
16:50 - Inform child that there will be no videogame playing as he has no glasses and that TV watching will also be curtailed. Reading will also be a problem.
17:30- Realize that child has left house without finishing chores. His father is now home. I am finishing this as child finally finishes chores and am ready to climb into bed.
17:40 - Realize that my stress level quadruples whenever Jr is in the house. Not good. Going to shut myself in my bedroom and feel sorry for myself. So much for my "day off".
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zippo.
Nothing. I got nothing, I tell you. And I'm crabby, mostly because of the watermelon.
You see, I replanted one of the watermelon plants long ago when they were still in the sprouting phase because I knew there wouldn't be room for them all. I planted it in the side-garden and watered it faithfully and with love. And finally at long last, one small watermelon took hold. Until today, when John who has been painting the outside of the house, stepped on it.
I will say that he was abjectly sorry - in fact, he came indoors and said "you love me, right? Nothing will ever come between us, right? No matter what I do??" at which point yours truly realized what had happened and actually started to BAWL "Not my watermelon!!!! noooooOOOOOoooo!"
John feels terrible about it. And I am more upset than I should be, most likely.
And I am 28 weeks today and as the girls at work reminded me, I still have 3 months to go. Fuck.
Things I have started and not finished:
Painting the alleged baby's room because I am not sure the blue works for me. It seems too bright somehow.
Finishing the tomato sauce I began yesterday.
Laundry.
Cleaning.
Sleeping.
Kvetching and whining, obviously.
I did have a nice long intellectual post in my mind about the unpalatable political situation in the USA today, complete with a rant about John Roberts, George Bush, *coughcough"intelligentBULLSHITdesign"coughcough* and various other miscellany but they're all gone. I was also going to write about the recliner/rocker that I scored at a garage sale yesterday for ten bucks. But, all that remains is a very crabby, grumpy and upset 7 months pregnant woman who keeps avoiding her gestational diabetes test.
And can't seem to sleep more than 2 hours at a stretch. Oy.
I think I want my mommy.
You see, I replanted one of the watermelon plants long ago when they were still in the sprouting phase because I knew there wouldn't be room for them all. I planted it in the side-garden and watered it faithfully and with love. And finally at long last, one small watermelon took hold. Until today, when John who has been painting the outside of the house, stepped on it.
I will say that he was abjectly sorry - in fact, he came indoors and said "you love me, right? Nothing will ever come between us, right? No matter what I do??" at which point yours truly realized what had happened and actually started to BAWL "Not my watermelon!!!! noooooOOOOOoooo!"
John feels terrible about it. And I am more upset than I should be, most likely.
And I am 28 weeks today and as the girls at work reminded me, I still have 3 months to go. Fuck.
Things I have started and not finished:
Painting the alleged baby's room because I am not sure the blue works for me. It seems too bright somehow.
Finishing the tomato sauce I began yesterday.
Laundry.
Cleaning.
Sleeping.
Kvetching and whining, obviously.
I did have a nice long intellectual post in my mind about the unpalatable political situation in the USA today, complete with a rant about John Roberts, George Bush, *coughcough"intelligentBULLSHITdesign"coughcough* and various other miscellany but they're all gone. I was also going to write about the recliner/rocker that I scored at a garage sale yesterday for ten bucks. But, all that remains is a very crabby, grumpy and upset 7 months pregnant woman who keeps avoiding her gestational diabetes test.
And can't seem to sleep more than 2 hours at a stretch. Oy.
I think I want my mommy.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
27 weeks
Thank you to those of you who commented and sent well-wishes - much appreciated. I re-read my words from yesterday and I guess that whole L&D episode scared me more than I thought.
As I lay in that L&D bed, all I kept thinking was "26 weeks. Fuck, it's too early. I know it's viable but it's too early. He needs to cook longer. Fuck." That was pretty much it until I managed to drown out the panic with an episode of SVU that I actually had never seen.
It's interesting. One of the women at work turned to me the other day and said "you've had SUCH a difficult pregnancy!" and I was shocked. I haven't, not really. Sure, lots of little things have gone awry like the swelling and the carpal tunnel and the melasma, contractions, the Rh factor, and various other miscellany - but a difficult pregnancy? I don't see it that way. Of course, they all think I'm a bloody hypochondriac there, but that's ok.
They've never had to deal with reproductive issues, obviously. They've never had to live with the fear. And none of them have been pregnant with their first viable baby and going on 40 years old. They keep comparing me to the other nurse there who just gave birth - she is early 30s, fertile and completely healthy. I think they forget how old I am because I act childishly ...
Newsflash ... being a mom changes you. I see it in all my friends, it makes you "older" (for lack of a better word)in your thinking. Not for everyone, but still, I guess I don't seem that "old" to them, even though I've been a stepmom for 5 years. And we won't get into that at all these days other than to mention that John let Jr cash in the piggy-bank he's been saving since he's been 3, even after we discussed it (John says he doesn't remember)and said no at the time. Instead of telling him "get a job and you'll have money". Say no more.
But back to pre-digression ... I don't know if I'll think "old" ever. I've never been a typical thinker, I don't fit into groupthink or groupspeak - even when I want to, I usually fail miserably. So, I'm not sure I'll be that kind of mom.
Frankly, I'm not sure what kind of mom I'm going to be and it worries me. I'll probably suck ass. Too strict about the wrong things, too lax about the others. But the dreams ... they are vivid.
A dark-haired baby, looking up at his mobiles and laughing, sleeping in my arms, being cuddled, being loved, being read to and sang to and tickled...
A little boy with dark hair and blue eyes poring over a Narnia book or a telescope, laughing as he rides his bicycle. Laughing and calling out "Mom!! Look at this,Mom!!".
Mom. Someone is going to call me "Mom". With all that simple name entails.
How incredible is that? When I think about it, so much of everything else just vanishes. Except for the tears.
As I lay in that L&D bed, all I kept thinking was "26 weeks. Fuck, it's too early. I know it's viable but it's too early. He needs to cook longer. Fuck." That was pretty much it until I managed to drown out the panic with an episode of SVU that I actually had never seen.
It's interesting. One of the women at work turned to me the other day and said "you've had SUCH a difficult pregnancy!" and I was shocked. I haven't, not really. Sure, lots of little things have gone awry like the swelling and the carpal tunnel and the melasma, contractions, the Rh factor, and various other miscellany - but a difficult pregnancy? I don't see it that way. Of course, they all think I'm a bloody hypochondriac there, but that's ok.
They've never had to deal with reproductive issues, obviously. They've never had to live with the fear. And none of them have been pregnant with their first viable baby and going on 40 years old. They keep comparing me to the other nurse there who just gave birth - she is early 30s, fertile and completely healthy. I think they forget how old I am because I act childishly ...
Newsflash ... being a mom changes you. I see it in all my friends, it makes you "older" (for lack of a better word)in your thinking. Not for everyone, but still, I guess I don't seem that "old" to them, even though I've been a stepmom for 5 years. And we won't get into that at all these days other than to mention that John let Jr cash in the piggy-bank he's been saving since he's been 3, even after we discussed it (John says he doesn't remember)and said no at the time. Instead of telling him "get a job and you'll have money". Say no more.
But back to pre-digression ... I don't know if I'll think "old" ever. I've never been a typical thinker, I don't fit into groupthink or groupspeak - even when I want to, I usually fail miserably. So, I'm not sure I'll be that kind of mom.
Frankly, I'm not sure what kind of mom I'm going to be and it worries me. I'll probably suck ass. Too strict about the wrong things, too lax about the others. But the dreams ... they are vivid.
A dark-haired baby, looking up at his mobiles and laughing, sleeping in my arms, being cuddled, being loved, being read to and sang to and tickled...
A little boy with dark hair and blue eyes poring over a Narnia book or a telescope, laughing as he rides his bicycle. Laughing and calling out "Mom!! Look at this,Mom!!".
Mom. Someone is going to call me "Mom". With all that simple name entails.
How incredible is that? When I think about it, so much of everything else just vanishes. Except for the tears.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
A short visit to L&D ...
It's quite odd. I get 40-50 hits a day on this blog ... but only a couple of you leave comments. Please leave comments, even just to say "hi". If not, I'll eventually have to track you down and bang on your door.
So, a touch of excitement in the Chaos household Thursday. John's birthday and I ended up in L&D by myself ... so much for dinner at the Macaroni Grill.
I went for a breast exam because of the blood in my colostrum. The doctor, an older man, was very sweet and exclaimed "5 pregnancies! And no children. hmmm. Don't give up, dear. We had 5 miscarriages but my 3 kids are having their own kids now ...." Made me smile and maybe a touch watery in the eyes.
The exam went well and everything seemed to be normal although he wants ultrasounds done to both breasts. I thanked him and hurried back to work.
Around 2 o'clock, I started getting contractions. Braxton-Hicks contractions, but still. They were unrelenting and uncomfortable, to the point where I was getting short of breath and unable to walk very far without huffing and puffing. I started to get very scared and even the other RNs I work with were getting a bit concerned.
After 2 hours of this, I called the OB and she was concerned because of the discomfort and sob ... told me to go to L&D. I was at work, so I went to the hospital across the street. I called John and told him - I don't think he grasped exactly what was going on. He did, to his credit, call me back later and ask if I wanted him to be there, but I saw no point to it at that stage.
L&D was full! I had to wait in the waiting room with 3 other pg ladies, all having symptoms of pre-term labour. Not fun. One of the girls from work came and sat with me for a while, which was nice. But the thought of an L&D floor being full is quite scary. The hospital closer to home may be a very good choice, in the long run. It's probably less busy than this one is.
Sometimes being a nurse has its perks - they took me in before some of the other women (although there may have been good reason why, I don't know). I did get admitted and monitored after waiting for over an hour ... and the baby is fine.
If nothing else, it was wonderful to just lie there for hours and listen to his heart beating - if nothing else, that was worth the time spent. He is an active little one, my son is.
I was still having a few contractions but by the time they got me on the monitors, they had mostly subsided. 3 hours of contractions was enough for my body, it seems.
The nurses were great and the OB was super nice ... I apologized to him for taking up a bed at a very busy time and he said "I've read your chart ...you've worked very hard to get to this point. I appreciate paranoia like yours - you did the right thing by coming in"
I started to cry, of course, It's always good to hear recognition of the struggles you've been through, especially from a busy doctor.
Anyway ...all is well. I'm officially on light duty for a while which should help and no more breast exams, necessary or not. No one is completely sure what precipitated this and I'm not rushing to find out. My fluid intake had been a tad lower than usual that day, so that may have been a contributing factor - I also think that pushing heavy stretchers doesn't help much. They want to see me in the office this week as well as next. Oy.
I am officially taking it easy this weekend. John went off golfing and I have several pounds of tomatoes to make into sauce ... or something. Other than that? Feet up on the couch and lots of popsicles. At least it's cooler this weekend. Small miracles.
So, a touch of excitement in the Chaos household Thursday. John's birthday and I ended up in L&D by myself ... so much for dinner at the Macaroni Grill.
I went for a breast exam because of the blood in my colostrum. The doctor, an older man, was very sweet and exclaimed "5 pregnancies! And no children. hmmm. Don't give up, dear. We had 5 miscarriages but my 3 kids are having their own kids now ...." Made me smile and maybe a touch watery in the eyes.
The exam went well and everything seemed to be normal although he wants ultrasounds done to both breasts. I thanked him and hurried back to work.
Around 2 o'clock, I started getting contractions. Braxton-Hicks contractions, but still. They were unrelenting and uncomfortable, to the point where I was getting short of breath and unable to walk very far without huffing and puffing. I started to get very scared and even the other RNs I work with were getting a bit concerned.
After 2 hours of this, I called the OB and she was concerned because of the discomfort and sob ... told me to go to L&D. I was at work, so I went to the hospital across the street. I called John and told him - I don't think he grasped exactly what was going on. He did, to his credit, call me back later and ask if I wanted him to be there, but I saw no point to it at that stage.
L&D was full! I had to wait in the waiting room with 3 other pg ladies, all having symptoms of pre-term labour. Not fun. One of the girls from work came and sat with me for a while, which was nice. But the thought of an L&D floor being full is quite scary. The hospital closer to home may be a very good choice, in the long run. It's probably less busy than this one is.
Sometimes being a nurse has its perks - they took me in before some of the other women (although there may have been good reason why, I don't know). I did get admitted and monitored after waiting for over an hour ... and the baby is fine.
If nothing else, it was wonderful to just lie there for hours and listen to his heart beating - if nothing else, that was worth the time spent. He is an active little one, my son is.
I was still having a few contractions but by the time they got me on the monitors, they had mostly subsided. 3 hours of contractions was enough for my body, it seems.
The nurses were great and the OB was super nice ... I apologized to him for taking up a bed at a very busy time and he said "I've read your chart ...you've worked very hard to get to this point. I appreciate paranoia like yours - you did the right thing by coming in"
I started to cry, of course, It's always good to hear recognition of the struggles you've been through, especially from a busy doctor.
Anyway ...all is well. I'm officially on light duty for a while which should help and no more breast exams, necessary or not. No one is completely sure what precipitated this and I'm not rushing to find out. My fluid intake had been a tad lower than usual that day, so that may have been a contributing factor - I also think that pushing heavy stretchers doesn't help much. They want to see me in the office this week as well as next. Oy.
I am officially taking it easy this weekend. John went off golfing and I have several pounds of tomatoes to make into sauce ... or something. Other than that? Feet up on the couch and lots of popsicles. At least it's cooler this weekend. Small miracles.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Preggo brain
Here's a pic of today's yield from the garden. I brought a bunch of tomatoes into work and they vanished in seconds. It's a nice feeling.
These are fated for tomato sauce and maybe some salsa this weekend. If I have the energy. Thankfully, Jr will be at the biothing's house this weekend, so ... there ya have it.
Before I forget, please head over to Danae'sand wish Grrl, Mr Grrl, Sarah and baby Gefilte a hearty mazal tov!
In my garden zeal and other issues yesterday, I forgot to update you about a bad case of preggo brain.
I had been calling my OB's office because they needed to reschedule me - a story I won't get into, say thanks now ... but all they could do was schedule me way the heck and gone for Tuesday, August 2nd at the Rockville office. Lots of docs are vacationing, so there's a touch of a shortage and while Rockville is a bit of a hike on my day off ... well, that's what there is. I called a few times to see if there were cancellations and even called Monday and ask if there's any way they can switch my appt on the following day ... but nada. Everything is booked.
So yesterday, I take Jr and myself all the way to Rockville. I'm not terribly happy about this because I wanted to go to the Prime Outlets in Hagerstown to 1)hunt for a birthday present for John and 2)to shop the Motherhood maternity outlet store. I brought Jr along for the ride so he could spend his hard-earned cash (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! ... oh sorry. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! oh stop. Just a little humour there. Uh-huh. *snort*) on a gift for his father.
So I get to the Rockville office with 5 minutes to spare and the nice receptionist looks at me and says ... "but Ma'am, your appointment isn't till next week ..." at which point I realize that indeed, I am a week early.
Preggo brain in action, folks. I totally managed to convince myself that my August 2nd appointment was, in fact, on July 26th. For no other reason than my day off is Tuesday during both weeks. Oy.
They were extremely nice in the office and the doc saw me anyway, although I had to wait a bit and understandably so. His Highness is doing well, heartrate in the 140s and my belly was measured for the first time. I am now starting biweekly visits, it seems. My gestational diabetes testing is coming up. Oh ... and I mentioned the bloody colostrum thing to the doc who, it seemed, knew nothing about it although supposedly it was going in my chart when I called 2 weeks ago and was told "it's nothing". He checked my breasts and found nothing but guess what? I'm going to the surgeon tomorrow for a look-see. He told me "don't panic, but we should have this looked at". So I'm not panicking but ... ok, maybe a little. I lost a cousin to breast cancer last year and my aunt is a survivor - so we have history.
Instead I'm trying to focus on the fact that my weigh-in showed a 2 lb loss. Yessssssssssssssss.
We did eventually make it to the outlet mall where I purchased a pair of Aviator Ray-Bans for John - he never reads this, so I'm safe. I also bought a couple of really nice blouses that might be usable later, a pair of much needed maternity shorts, a maternity swimsuit (YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and finally - at long last - maternity undies!!! They are so damned comfortable.
And the piece de resistance ... a bra extender!! Ladies, I never even knew such a thing existed but I have to tell you ... my rib cage is thanking me mightily today. Sweeeeeeeeeeeeet.
Oh, and the latest Patricia Cornwell book in paperback, which is calling my name as I type.I started it at the pool yesterday in the ridiculous heat we've been having ... but I had my swimsuit. It felt so damned good to float like that and take some weight off.
So there you have it. Wish me luck tomorrow.
These are fated for tomato sauce and maybe some salsa this weekend. If I have the energy. Thankfully, Jr will be at the biothing's house this weekend, so ... there ya have it.
Before I forget, please head over to Danae'sand wish Grrl, Mr Grrl, Sarah and baby Gefilte a hearty mazal tov!
In my garden zeal and other issues yesterday, I forgot to update you about a bad case of preggo brain.
I had been calling my OB's office because they needed to reschedule me - a story I won't get into, say thanks now ... but all they could do was schedule me way the heck and gone for Tuesday, August 2nd at the Rockville office. Lots of docs are vacationing, so there's a touch of a shortage and while Rockville is a bit of a hike on my day off ... well, that's what there is. I called a few times to see if there were cancellations and even called Monday and ask if there's any way they can switch my appt on the following day ... but nada. Everything is booked.
So yesterday, I take Jr and myself all the way to Rockville. I'm not terribly happy about this because I wanted to go to the Prime Outlets in Hagerstown to 1)hunt for a birthday present for John and 2)to shop the Motherhood maternity outlet store. I brought Jr along for the ride so he could spend his hard-earned cash (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! ... oh sorry. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! oh stop. Just a little humour there. Uh-huh. *snort*) on a gift for his father.
So I get to the Rockville office with 5 minutes to spare and the nice receptionist looks at me and says ... "but Ma'am, your appointment isn't till next week ..." at which point I realize that indeed, I am a week early.
Preggo brain in action, folks. I totally managed to convince myself that my August 2nd appointment was, in fact, on July 26th. For no other reason than my day off is Tuesday during both weeks. Oy.
They were extremely nice in the office and the doc saw me anyway, although I had to wait a bit and understandably so. His Highness is doing well, heartrate in the 140s and my belly was measured for the first time. I am now starting biweekly visits, it seems. My gestational diabetes testing is coming up. Oh ... and I mentioned the bloody colostrum thing to the doc who, it seemed, knew nothing about it although supposedly it was going in my chart when I called 2 weeks ago and was told "it's nothing". He checked my breasts and found nothing but guess what? I'm going to the surgeon tomorrow for a look-see. He told me "don't panic, but we should have this looked at". So I'm not panicking but ... ok, maybe a little. I lost a cousin to breast cancer last year and my aunt is a survivor - so we have history.
Instead I'm trying to focus on the fact that my weigh-in showed a 2 lb loss. Yessssssssssssssss.
We did eventually make it to the outlet mall where I purchased a pair of Aviator Ray-Bans for John - he never reads this, so I'm safe. I also bought a couple of really nice blouses that might be usable later, a pair of much needed maternity shorts, a maternity swimsuit (YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and finally - at long last - maternity undies!!! They are so damned comfortable.
And the piece de resistance ... a bra extender!! Ladies, I never even knew such a thing existed but I have to tell you ... my rib cage is thanking me mightily today. Sweeeeeeeeeeeeet.
Oh, and the latest Patricia Cornwell book in paperback, which is calling my name as I type.I started it at the pool yesterday in the ridiculous heat we've been having ... but I had my swimsuit. It felt so damned good to float like that and take some weight off.
So there you have it. Wish me luck tomorrow.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Tired of being a cash-cow.
I feel extremely frustrated. Every time I try and make a point to my stepson about the importance of getting a job and making money of his OWN, my beloved husband throws money at him under some guise. Today, after Jr borrowed money from a friend to get a cell phone card so he can use the cellphone his female biounit bought him, while counting on his allowance next week to fund that purchase, John came home and decided that the work Jr did while painting was enough to cover that debt.
John has already given him money for painting.
Jr was not expecting more money from painting.
This was after I had spoken to Jr about the evils of borrowing money from friends AND when you don't have a pot to piss in and reminding him of the need for a job.
Then John told me he didn't know how Jr was going to get a job anyway, since he's going to the biounit's house for a couple of weeks.
The kid is going into 12th grade and is still getting an allowance.
He's shown no drive or motivation to get a job, his driver's license, look at colleges or anything else.
Both of his bioparents keep enabling this behaviour.
I am done. I am silently furious with John on this matter and next time a large expense comes for Jr's grad, I'm just going to say that the biounit better be paying for half because I am not. The biounit pays less per month than I do to feed, clothe and shelter her son ... I'm tired of my paycheque being a repository for a lazy teenager and his lazier mother and tired of my opinions being dismissed. I'm not asking for the moon nor am I cheap, I'm just trying to teach the kid some fiscal responsibility - ANY responsibility for that matter.
Fuck that noise. I'm done.
John has already given him money for painting.
Jr was not expecting more money from painting.
This was after I had spoken to Jr about the evils of borrowing money from friends AND when you don't have a pot to piss in and reminding him of the need for a job.
Then John told me he didn't know how Jr was going to get a job anyway, since he's going to the biounit's house for a couple of weeks.
The kid is going into 12th grade and is still getting an allowance.
He's shown no drive or motivation to get a job, his driver's license, look at colleges or anything else.
Both of his bioparents keep enabling this behaviour.
I am done. I am silently furious with John on this matter and next time a large expense comes for Jr's grad, I'm just going to say that the biounit better be paying for half because I am not. The biounit pays less per month than I do to feed, clothe and shelter her son ... I'm tired of my paycheque being a repository for a lazy teenager and his lazier mother and tired of my opinions being dismissed. I'm not asking for the moon nor am I cheap, I'm just trying to teach the kid some fiscal responsibility - ANY responsibility for that matter.
Fuck that noise. I'm done.
Garden P0rn
More garden fun for Day and the rest of ye... I'll remind you of what the garden looked like before this ... here
Remember, I am not a great photog ... as if it wasn't evident.
You can actually *see* the humidity this morning ... ick.
These are mostly ginormous tomato plants, attempting their takeover of the universe. It's hard to see, but there are hundreds of tomatoes on those vines.
Dare I hope? A cantaloupe??
These are HUGE suckers. Man, I better start making tomato sauce. Anyone with a great recipe out there?
YES!! A watermelon. I'm such a proud mama.
Jalapenos. We planted 2 plants. Why? I have no idea. John dislikes spicy food.
John worked very very hard on the deck. It looks absolutely amazing now - it was grey and green-ish before. The grey on the house is primer, we are starting to paint. Eventually we may paint the ...er... third bedroom too. Oh, and if you live in Maryland? Feel free to drop by for some free tomatoes ... and maybe a hot pepper or six.
Remember, I am not a great photog ... as if it wasn't evident.
You can actually *see* the humidity this morning ... ick.
These are mostly ginormous tomato plants, attempting their takeover of the universe. It's hard to see, but there are hundreds of tomatoes on those vines.
Dare I hope? A cantaloupe??
These are HUGE suckers. Man, I better start making tomato sauce. Anyone with a great recipe out there?
YES!! A watermelon. I'm such a proud mama.
Jalapenos. We planted 2 plants. Why? I have no idea. John dislikes spicy food.
John worked very very hard on the deck. It looks absolutely amazing now - it was grey and green-ish before. The grey on the house is primer, we are starting to paint. Eventually we may paint the ...er... third bedroom too. Oh, and if you live in Maryland? Feel free to drop by for some free tomatoes ... and maybe a hot pepper or six.
Monday, July 25, 2005
For Day ...
Sorry babe, got home and forgot to take pics of the jungle but here's some of the yield. The yellow tomatoes are delish!!
More later, including my disgust with the National Hockey League in general and Gary Bettman in particular.
More later, including my disgust with the National Hockey League in general and Gary Bettman in particular.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
I figured
I wouldn't get much commentary on my last entry. C'est la vie.
As for baby-related stuff, I am officially 26 weeks. His Highness has been vigorous and it makes me smile - in fact, I saw my t-shirt move for the first time the other day. It's very sweet when you think about it. I love feeling him move ... I realize I may not feel that way at week 36, but I do now.
I talk to him on the drive into work each morning, call him by his unofficial name sometimes just to see if it fits. I try and remember Hebrew lullabies but ... they are fleeting memories. I need to get my hands on some before it gets much later in this pregnancy.
The wallpaper border that I ordered off ebay arrived and John and I went to the Depot of Homes to match paint and also get paint for the outside of the house ... we had a small (very) windfall with the arrival of my disability cheque, so we are finally in a slightly (very) more comfortable financial place. We bought a couple of quarts of paint to see if they will go with what I envision in the ...er... third bedroom. The catch being that John doesn't love the bedding I picked out which would go beautifully with the Pooh border. I may stick to my guns on this one. We shall see. But it's expensive and it's order-only. Still, it's not as expensive as some!!
I really like it. Should I say that again? Your thoughts?
John also vetoed the Graco Snugride for an infant seat - yes, I finally got him to go to Buy Buy Baby. We've decided to go with the Combi Connection because it fits better in the Kolcraft Universal Carrier. How's that for bandying around names? The Combi feels more secure in there ... and I like the Kolcraft carrier better than the Combi carrier - it's roomier. So much for saving money though ... the Combi is more expensive by about 50 bucks. Together they work out to almost the same price as a travel system ... but with much less weight and that is appealing to me.
And that's all, folks. I may have gratuitous gardenp0rn to show you later but I will admit, we have been harvesting squash, zucchini and jalapenos, as well as a couple of tomatoes. I found a watermelon and 'lope growing. All the carrots and most of the other peppers have passed on because they weren't getting enough sun due to the humungous tomato growth.
Oh, and John finished the deck. It looks gorgeous, so I may sneak in a shot of that later. Off to do some weeding!!
PS ... anyone want a nearly 17 yo teenage boy? Cheap ...nah, free to a good home. Sulking and whining at no extra charge. Promise.
As for baby-related stuff, I am officially 26 weeks. His Highness has been vigorous and it makes me smile - in fact, I saw my t-shirt move for the first time the other day. It's very sweet when you think about it. I love feeling him move ... I realize I may not feel that way at week 36, but I do now.
I talk to him on the drive into work each morning, call him by his unofficial name sometimes just to see if it fits. I try and remember Hebrew lullabies but ... they are fleeting memories. I need to get my hands on some before it gets much later in this pregnancy.
The wallpaper border that I ordered off ebay arrived and John and I went to the Depot of Homes to match paint and also get paint for the outside of the house ... we had a small (very) windfall with the arrival of my disability cheque, so we are finally in a slightly (very) more comfortable financial place. We bought a couple of quarts of paint to see if they will go with what I envision in the ...er... third bedroom. The catch being that John doesn't love the bedding I picked out which would go beautifully with the Pooh border. I may stick to my guns on this one. We shall see. But it's expensive and it's order-only. Still, it's not as expensive as some!!
I really like it. Should I say that again? Your thoughts?
John also vetoed the Graco Snugride for an infant seat - yes, I finally got him to go to Buy Buy Baby. We've decided to go with the Combi Connection because it fits better in the Kolcraft Universal Carrier. How's that for bandying around names? The Combi feels more secure in there ... and I like the Kolcraft carrier better than the Combi carrier - it's roomier. So much for saving money though ... the Combi is more expensive by about 50 bucks. Together they work out to almost the same price as a travel system ... but with much less weight and that is appealing to me.
And that's all, folks. I may have gratuitous gardenp0rn to show you later but I will admit, we have been harvesting squash, zucchini and jalapenos, as well as a couple of tomatoes. I found a watermelon and 'lope growing. All the carrots and most of the other peppers have passed on because they weren't getting enough sun due to the humungous tomato growth.
Oh, and John finished the deck. It looks gorgeous, so I may sneak in a shot of that later. Off to do some weeding!!
PS ... anyone want a nearly 17 yo teenage boy? Cheap ...nah, free to a good home. Sulking and whining at no extra charge. Promise.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
In which I get (more)political on yer asses
Lately I've been feeling particularly political and in correlation, more despairing than ever. I've watched the bombings in Britain with great sadness, as have most of us. Of course, the one question that started niggling in my brain not long after that first terrible attack was "why is a bus bombing in Britain called a 'terrorist' or 'terror' attack but when the exact same thing happens in Israel it's not?"
I asked a couple of people about this and was surprised to hear "oh, well that's because it happens in Israel all the time" and other like responses. So lemme get this straight ... if terrorist attacks happen ALL the time in one place, they are too humdrum and commonplace to label appropriately? Sounds like intellectual laziness to me. Strangely, no one had an answer for that.
I also found it particularly sad that a couple of days after the first attack in London, there was a terrorist attack and explosion in Iraq in which a number of schoolchildren were killed. CBS radio and TV screamed "Slaughter of the Innocents!!" and covered this for a couple of days and rightfully so. The murder of children for political gain has no place in this world. But what saddened me more was that a number of schoolchildren in Israel were killed the next day by a Hamas suicide bomber ... and no media station screamed out in protest about the slaughter of innocents. In fact, it was a mere sideline in the evening news. Terrorism was never mentioned. No, it was an attack by "militants".
These two stories make me wonder ... Why is it only called "terrorism" if Jews are not the target?
Hamas have come out and said:
That is the face of terrorism. Plain and simple. So why the hesitation to brand it as such? Why is Al Qaeda the only accepted "terrorist" organization?
I don't mean to be disingenuous. It truly does seem to be a double standard. I've seen the copies of Time and Newsweek with "Terror in London" emblazoned all over them ... I've never seen the same coverage given to bombings in Israel (which at times have sadly killed more than 50+ people), nor headlines blazing, nor the word "terrorism" used, nor Christiann Amanpour (ick)rushing to the scene.
I guess it's still ok to kill Jews ... the world doesn't seem to make a big deal about it 50 years later, either.
I asked a couple of people about this and was surprised to hear "oh, well that's because it happens in Israel all the time" and other like responses. So lemme get this straight ... if terrorist attacks happen ALL the time in one place, they are too humdrum and commonplace to label appropriately? Sounds like intellectual laziness to me. Strangely, no one had an answer for that.
I also found it particularly sad that a couple of days after the first attack in London, there was a terrorist attack and explosion in Iraq in which a number of schoolchildren were killed. CBS radio and TV screamed "Slaughter of the Innocents!!" and covered this for a couple of days and rightfully so. The murder of children for political gain has no place in this world. But what saddened me more was that a number of schoolchildren in Israel were killed the next day by a Hamas suicide bomber ... and no media station screamed out in protest about the slaughter of innocents. In fact, it was a mere sideline in the evening news. Terrorism was never mentioned. No, it was an attack by "militants".
These two stories make me wonder ... Why is it only called "terrorism" if Jews are not the target?
Hamas have come out and said:
Hamas will not compromise on one inch of Greater Palestine, Hamas leader Mahmoud al-Zahar told an Italian newspaper earlier this week.
Speaking to the Corriere Della Sera newspaper, al-Zahar said Hamas would "definitely not" be prepared for coexistence with Israel should the IDF retreat to its 1967 borders.
"It can be a temporary solution, for a maximum of 5 to 10 years. But in the end Palestine must return to become Muslim, and in the long term Israel will disappear from the face of the earth."
That is the face of terrorism. Plain and simple. So why the hesitation to brand it as such? Why is Al Qaeda the only accepted "terrorist" organization?
I don't mean to be disingenuous. It truly does seem to be a double standard. I've seen the copies of Time and Newsweek with "Terror in London" emblazoned all over them ... I've never seen the same coverage given to bombings in Israel (which at times have sadly killed more than 50+ people), nor headlines blazing, nor the word "terrorism" used, nor Christiann Amanpour (ick)rushing to the scene.
I guess it's still ok to kill Jews ... the world doesn't seem to make a big deal about it 50 years later, either.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Great. Just great ...
The Shrub nominated John Roberts Jr for the Supreme Court position vacated by Sandra Day O'Connor.
(stolen from "Alas, a blog" which seems to have left us temporarily)
John Roberts
Biography
Current Position:- U.S. Court of Appeals - D.C.
The Buzz:
- Known conservative but considered a ’stealth candidate’.
- Former supreme court clerk under Rehnquist
- Under the former Bush Administration, he played an active role in efforts to limit abortion. Roberts argued in a brief before the U.S. Supreme Court that “[w]e continue to believe that Roe was wrongly decided and should be overruled.”
- Age 50
From Law.Com:
Yet those who know Roberts say he, unlike Souter, is a reliable conservative who can be counted on to undermine if not immediately overturn liberal landmarks like abortion rights and affirmative action. Indicators of his true stripes cited by friends include: clerking for Rehnquist, membership in the Federalist Society, laboring in the Ronald Reagan White House counsel’s office and at the Justice Department into the Bush years, working with Kenneth Starr among others, and even his lunchtime conversations at Hogan & Hartson. “He is as conservative as you can get,” one friend puts it. In short, Roberts may combine the stealth appeal of Souter with the unwavering ideology of Scalia and Thomas.
~~~~~~~~~
So ... not only did we NOT get a woman justice or a person of colour but he gives us a person who is fundamentally opposed to affirmative action, is not a fan of the environment and who is anti-choice. And I quote ..."as an attorney in the Justice Departments of Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush, Roberts repeatedly argued for the reversal of Roe v. Wade stating that there was "no support in the text, structure or history of the Constitution" for the reasoning behind Roe."
I better start packing my bags for Canada.
(stolen from "Alas, a blog" which seems to have left us temporarily)
John Roberts
Biography
Current Position:- U.S. Court of Appeals - D.C.
The Buzz:
- Known conservative but considered a ’stealth candidate’.
- Former supreme court clerk under Rehnquist
- Under the former Bush Administration, he played an active role in efforts to limit abortion. Roberts argued in a brief before the U.S. Supreme Court that “[w]e continue to believe that Roe was wrongly decided and should be overruled.”
- Age 50
From Law.Com:
Yet those who know Roberts say he, unlike Souter, is a reliable conservative who can be counted on to undermine if not immediately overturn liberal landmarks like abortion rights and affirmative action. Indicators of his true stripes cited by friends include: clerking for Rehnquist, membership in the Federalist Society, laboring in the Ronald Reagan White House counsel’s office and at the Justice Department into the Bush years, working with Kenneth Starr among others, and even his lunchtime conversations at Hogan & Hartson. “He is as conservative as you can get,” one friend puts it. In short, Roberts may combine the stealth appeal of Souter with the unwavering ideology of Scalia and Thomas.
~~~~~~~~~
So ... not only did we NOT get a woman justice or a person of colour but he gives us a person who is fundamentally opposed to affirmative action, is not a fan of the environment and who is anti-choice. And I quote ..."as an attorney in the Justice Departments of Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush, Roberts repeatedly argued for the reversal of Roe v. Wade stating that there was "no support in the text, structure or history of the Constitution" for the reasoning behind Roe."
I better start packing my bags for Canada.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
And one more thing ...
So after my shower this morning, I gently pressed my nipples - I don't exactly know why I do this but that a girlfriend told me I should do it to "toughen them up for breastfeeding".
Colostrum sprang forth readily ... as did blood from one place, mixed within the colostrum. I tried again, more gently. Same result.
Several hours later I tried yet one more time. Yep. Still some blood.
Yes, of course I googled the snot out of it, oh ye of little faith. And yes, it does happen. That is followed by the admonition to "call your doctor".
I'll be calling the OB tomorrow. In the meantime, I'm trying to quell my rising panic.
Colostrum sprang forth readily ... as did blood from one place, mixed within the colostrum. I tried again, more gently. Same result.
Several hours later I tried yet one more time. Yep. Still some blood.
Yes, of course I googled the snot out of it, oh ye of little faith. And yes, it does happen. That is followed by the admonition to "call your doctor".
I'll be calling the OB tomorrow. In the meantime, I'm trying to quell my rising panic.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Highlights and lowlights of this past week
I'm going to try and write the post I started last night, but be forewarned ... my memory ain't what it used to be. And I can't blame the ice cream for that, it's definitely been worsening over the last several weeks.
So, highlights and lowlights of last week:
My parents visit here was wonderful. They truly made much of me and spoiled me rotten, including buying us a highly-rated "Baby's Dream" crib. My mother talked some sense into me regarding the need for a drop-side crib as my back does suck and this one is very similar to the convertible one I had spotted while out with my friend Stacy.
Mom also bought me a bunch of cotton shifts to sleep in - I usually sleep in the buff, but these are wonderful and methinks I'll be living in them over the next long while. She loved Buy Buy Baby and all the stuff in there ... I really need to trim down my registry! I think she and dad went a little bit nuts with the registry gun.
Dad kept talking about the bris and what we need to do to get the house ready. We'd love to, but it costs money and that we just don't have right now. In fairness, he and my mother (and John) worked at small things around the house, trying to fix them up. The house looks way better than when we bought it, but it does need a lot of work to the outside. We'd put up siding but ... there's that $$ issue again. We'd also love to pull up the badly stained carpet in the family room and put down laminate but ... same issue. We're just seriously tapped.
Property values around here are skyrocketing, so chances might be that we can refi and pay off some debt - I'm trying to look into that. The house beside us is for sale - it just sold last August for 285 ... we don't know why the couple that bought it are selling - we shower regularly, promise ... but I just googled their asking price and it's THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!! Comparable houses in our area are going for 320 ... yowza.
Given, they put on new siding and a new driveway and a bunch of other small renos, but holy shit, Batman. That's way more than we paid for ours only last April ...
OK, I digressed.
I've been feeling crappy all week long. Tuesday I ended up leaving work and heading to the OB because the stomach pains which had started the night before, were worsening and the phone advice I received to "put your feet up and take some Tylenol" wasn't quite doing it. Especially as I had done exactly that the night before and nada. Especially as I'm a nurse and "put your feet up" doesn't work.
I got to see hottie OB once more - he did a PV and found my cervix to be "long, closed and thick ... all the things we want in a cervix at this stage!" said he jovially. Ultrasound showed his Majesty with a heartbeat in the 140s and definitely less room in Chez Uterus than last ultrasound at 20 weeks. The pains? No one knew for sure ... a combination of constipation, possible urinary tract infection and round ligament pains were suggested. I burst into tears at some point ... knowing the baby was fine was really all that was important to me - I can handle pain and a lot of it ... but the coming and going of these pains as well as their increasing strength and not feeling much movement from HH ... well, I was beside myself.
I went home feeling strangely despondent and weird and have stayed there all week long. My first decent BM in a long time made me feel better - yes, laugh if you must but it makes me wonder if I had a stomach bug of some kind or if I overdid it while out with the 'rents.
The other thing that has been chapping my enormous (and growing)rear end is my work situation. My boss just doesn't seem to get it. Let me 'splain.
I work in an outpatient procedure center. We do procedures on patients and they usually go home an hour after their procedure if all is well. There are three stages to the process:
1) the admitting process, in which an RN takes a medical history, vital signs and starts an IV. They also answer the phone a lot and talk to patients.
2)The procedure itself, in which an RN takes the patient into the procedure room, gets them hooked up to vital signs monitors and oxygen and administers IV sedation per the physician's orders, notes labs taken (biopsies), assists the physician with the messier end of things, does abdominal compressions when necessary and monitors the patient throughout. Then she takes the patient by stretcher to the recovery room, which is stage 3. Most physicians have between 8-12 procedures like this a day.
3)Recovery room - the nurses monitor the patient as they wake up, insure their vital signs are stable and that they are in no discomfort. They move the patients into various recovery procedures, make sure they are drinking and attempt to get them out the door within an hour of their arrival their. They also deal with patients who are nauseated, throwing up, and other fine details of nursing which I will spare you. They also care for the families which have rejoined their loved ones at this point - and sometimes families need more care than the patients.
Out of all three, which to you sounds the least physically demanding? Guess which one I have barely been put in, despite the fact that our staffing has been more than adequate and that our nurse manager is well aware that my OB said "feet up when possible and take it easy" and is well aware of the cramps and discomfort I've been feeling this week?
So yeah, I'm bitter and ticked off. Especially when I see other nurses who are being coddled for crap and when I know that the nurse that gave birth recently barely saw the inside of a procedure room once she started getting big. Might I add in my bitterness that the same nurse was young and healthy with no risk factors?
Yes damnit, I know I sound whiny and pathetic. But you try pushing stretchers with sedated 200+ lb individuals by yourself when you're 6 months pregnant. It's not easy. And dealing with a physician who finds it really amusing to make a pregnant woman nauseated is so much fun too. Grrrrrr.
I'm contemplating calling my OB and asking for them to write me a note requesting lighter duty. At the same time, I don't want to be a "whiner". Too late for that, huh? But maybe that will turn a light on inside the manager's head.
So, I've been Crabby, Grumpy and Bitchy - in fact, every one of Snow White's dwarves have shown up. Today it was "Whiny". Although all of said dwarves seem to be easily placated with a variety of chocolate ice cream. Yeesh. I'm such a cliche.
Maybe I should tell the nurse manager to stock chocolate ice cream?
So, highlights and lowlights of last week:
My parents visit here was wonderful. They truly made much of me and spoiled me rotten, including buying us a highly-rated "Baby's Dream" crib. My mother talked some sense into me regarding the need for a drop-side crib as my back does suck and this one is very similar to the convertible one I had spotted while out with my friend Stacy.
Mom also bought me a bunch of cotton shifts to sleep in - I usually sleep in the buff, but these are wonderful and methinks I'll be living in them over the next long while. She loved Buy Buy Baby and all the stuff in there ... I really need to trim down my registry! I think she and dad went a little bit nuts with the registry gun.
Dad kept talking about the bris and what we need to do to get the house ready. We'd love to, but it costs money and that we just don't have right now. In fairness, he and my mother (and John) worked at small things around the house, trying to fix them up. The house looks way better than when we bought it, but it does need a lot of work to the outside. We'd put up siding but ... there's that $$ issue again. We'd also love to pull up the badly stained carpet in the family room and put down laminate but ... same issue. We're just seriously tapped.
Property values around here are skyrocketing, so chances might be that we can refi and pay off some debt - I'm trying to look into that. The house beside us is for sale - it just sold last August for 285 ... we don't know why the couple that bought it are selling - we shower regularly, promise ... but I just googled their asking price and it's THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!! Comparable houses in our area are going for 320 ... yowza.
Given, they put on new siding and a new driveway and a bunch of other small renos, but holy shit, Batman. That's way more than we paid for ours only last April ...
OK, I digressed.
I've been feeling crappy all week long. Tuesday I ended up leaving work and heading to the OB because the stomach pains which had started the night before, were worsening and the phone advice I received to "put your feet up and take some Tylenol" wasn't quite doing it. Especially as I had done exactly that the night before and nada. Especially as I'm a nurse and "put your feet up" doesn't work.
I got to see hottie OB once more - he did a PV and found my cervix to be "long, closed and thick ... all the things we want in a cervix at this stage!" said he jovially. Ultrasound showed his Majesty with a heartbeat in the 140s and definitely less room in Chez Uterus than last ultrasound at 20 weeks. The pains? No one knew for sure ... a combination of constipation, possible urinary tract infection and round ligament pains were suggested. I burst into tears at some point ... knowing the baby was fine was really all that was important to me - I can handle pain and a lot of it ... but the coming and going of these pains as well as their increasing strength and not feeling much movement from HH ... well, I was beside myself.
I went home feeling strangely despondent and weird and have stayed there all week long. My first decent BM in a long time made me feel better - yes, laugh if you must but it makes me wonder if I had a stomach bug of some kind or if I overdid it while out with the 'rents.
The other thing that has been chapping my enormous (and growing)rear end is my work situation. My boss just doesn't seem to get it. Let me 'splain.
I work in an outpatient procedure center. We do procedures on patients and they usually go home an hour after their procedure if all is well. There are three stages to the process:
1) the admitting process, in which an RN takes a medical history, vital signs and starts an IV. They also answer the phone a lot and talk to patients.
2)The procedure itself, in which an RN takes the patient into the procedure room, gets them hooked up to vital signs monitors and oxygen and administers IV sedation per the physician's orders, notes labs taken (biopsies), assists the physician with the messier end of things, does abdominal compressions when necessary and monitors the patient throughout. Then she takes the patient by stretcher to the recovery room, which is stage 3. Most physicians have between 8-12 procedures like this a day.
3)Recovery room - the nurses monitor the patient as they wake up, insure their vital signs are stable and that they are in no discomfort. They move the patients into various recovery procedures, make sure they are drinking and attempt to get them out the door within an hour of their arrival their. They also deal with patients who are nauseated, throwing up, and other fine details of nursing which I will spare you. They also care for the families which have rejoined their loved ones at this point - and sometimes families need more care than the patients.
Out of all three, which to you sounds the least physically demanding? Guess which one I have barely been put in, despite the fact that our staffing has been more than adequate and that our nurse manager is well aware that my OB said "feet up when possible and take it easy" and is well aware of the cramps and discomfort I've been feeling this week?
So yeah, I'm bitter and ticked off. Especially when I see other nurses who are being coddled for crap and when I know that the nurse that gave birth recently barely saw the inside of a procedure room once she started getting big. Might I add in my bitterness that the same nurse was young and healthy with no risk factors?
Yes damnit, I know I sound whiny and pathetic. But you try pushing stretchers with sedated 200+ lb individuals by yourself when you're 6 months pregnant. It's not easy. And dealing with a physician who finds it really amusing to make a pregnant woman nauseated is so much fun too. Grrrrrr.
I'm contemplating calling my OB and asking for them to write me a note requesting lighter duty. At the same time, I don't want to be a "whiner". Too late for that, huh? But maybe that will turn a light on inside the manager's head.
So, I've been Crabby, Grumpy and Bitchy - in fact, every one of Snow White's dwarves have shown up. Today it was "Whiny". Although all of said dwarves seem to be easily placated with a variety of chocolate ice cream. Yeesh. I'm such a cliche.
Maybe I should tell the nurse manager to stock chocolate ice cream?
Friday, July 15, 2005
Long time no speak
I don't even know where to begin, this week was weird. Suffice it to say I had a tres shitty day at work today and it hasn't left me yet. John has tried to be nice but he doesn't know shit about really listening the way a good girlfriend does. He reminds me sometimes of seeing a doctor - get the stuff that's really important out in the first 3 minutes because after that you're tuned out. Not that he's been an asshole or anything, he's just being a man.
So here's the scoop. Mom and Dad came for a really nice visit - they made much of me, spent WAY too much money on me and on the baby ... it was impossible to stop them, from washing windows to washing draperies. They also bought us a beautiful crib and my father insisted on buying the mattress too. Word to the wise - do not buy your baby mattresses at specialty stores - the price at Targez and the W-store was over 60% less for the exact same thing. Yes, you read correctly. 60%. BRU online was 20 bucks more expensive. Even Sears was more expensive.
...OK. I am now feeling slightly better, because my beloved husband made dinner and agreed to "share" a beer with me. I took a larger part of ownership in said beer, something I rarely do when not preggers, so this was surprising. I'm sure His Highness will sleep well tonight - hopefully I will too. Sleep has been elusive of late and PLEASE do not say "it's in preparation for the baby!!" because I will then be obligated to hunt you down and kill you in some painful manner which I will not reveal here.
High Alert! High Alert! The husbandly one just walked in and presented me with his spoils from the grocery store ... Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk & Chocolate Therapy, as well as Starbuck's Java Chip. All this because I approached him after dinner and informed him morosely of a looming crisis ... the lack of chocolate ice cream in the freezer. Ah, what was I saying when I thought he wasn't listening earlier?? Of course, he did mention the possibility of nookie between this evening and tomorrow morning, but I do believe the shittiness of my day sunk into his brain. Yes, he did snort with laughter at the sheer cliche-edness of mydemanding sulking whining requesting ice cream with fervour in this, my 24th week of pregnancy but even I can let some things go.
Now I had not previously experienced the delights of either Ben & Jerry's flavour but rest assured, o loyal readers, that I sampled mightily from each of the 3 selections and found them to be good. Nay, verily let me sing the praises of the NY Super Fudge Chunk because it was good and filled with crunchiness. I mean really - what's a good chocolate ice cream without crunchy bits???
Hmmm ... what was I saying pre chocolate induced stupor? Something about shitty, something about parents ... it's gone.
It will return tomorrow and so will I.
So here's the scoop. Mom and Dad came for a really nice visit - they made much of me, spent WAY too much money on me and on the baby ... it was impossible to stop them, from washing windows to washing draperies. They also bought us a beautiful crib and my father insisted on buying the mattress too. Word to the wise - do not buy your baby mattresses at specialty stores - the price at Targez and the W-store was over 60% less for the exact same thing. Yes, you read correctly. 60%. BRU online was 20 bucks more expensive. Even Sears was more expensive.
...OK. I am now feeling slightly better, because my beloved husband made dinner and agreed to "share" a beer with me. I took a larger part of ownership in said beer, something I rarely do when not preggers, so this was surprising. I'm sure His Highness will sleep well tonight - hopefully I will too. Sleep has been elusive of late and PLEASE do not say "it's in preparation for the baby!!" because I will then be obligated to hunt you down and kill you in some painful manner which I will not reveal here.
High Alert! High Alert! The husbandly one just walked in and presented me with his spoils from the grocery store ... Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk & Chocolate Therapy, as well as Starbuck's Java Chip. All this because I approached him after dinner and informed him morosely of a looming crisis ... the lack of chocolate ice cream in the freezer. Ah, what was I saying when I thought he wasn't listening earlier?? Of course, he did mention the possibility of nookie between this evening and tomorrow morning, but I do believe the shittiness of my day sunk into his brain. Yes, he did snort with laughter at the sheer cliche-edness of my
Now I had not previously experienced the delights of either Ben & Jerry's flavour but rest assured, o loyal readers, that I sampled mightily from each of the 3 selections and found them to be good. Nay, verily let me sing the praises of the NY Super Fudge Chunk because it was good and filled with crunchiness. I mean really - what's a good chocolate ice cream without crunchy bits???
Hmmm ... what was I saying pre chocolate induced stupor? Something about shitty, something about parents ... it's gone.
It will return tomorrow and so will I.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
The things I go through for this kid ...
The hottie OB that I love turned to me this morning during my visit, chest hair peaking out from his scrubs and blue eyes twinkling, and said "So, what do you want to talk about this time?"
And bless him for not blinking an eyelid when I said "Well ... It seems that there's a chance I might actually be having a baby, so ... birth plans?" and then actually reached out and touched wood. He nodded sagely as if there was nothing at all odd with a woman nearly 6 months pregnant, inslighthuge denial about an impending birth. He mentioned viability ... "one more week for you!" he smiled warmly. He also mentioned things I should look out for, ie contractions, bleeding ... he may have mentioned more things but I was entranced by his smile.
So we talked about episiotomies (ixnay unless there is a really damned good reason) and drugs (don't want sedating meds)and his hospital recommendation (here is great), etc etc and ... then he dropped the bombshell. Not only will I not be having any more ultrasounds between now and delivery( barring something unforeseen), he's also leaving the practice in 2 weeks.
Which just elevated my chances of having Dr Shitty deliver my kid. *sigh*. I tell ya, the things I go through for this kid.
Good news is that His Highness is doing well, heart rate 120-130s (I have a laid back son), my weight gain is not horrific and my urine remains stellar. Blood pressure is 110/70 which is excellent and although the swelling remains and the carpal tunnel has worsened, so far all systems are go.
I got stabbed for thyroid levels and my next appointment will be my gestational diabetes testing. I am nearly 24 weeks. Holy crap. I may actually be having a baby.
Oh yeah ... and I registered this weekend. Yikes. Thank you, Auntie Em.
And bless him for not blinking an eyelid when I said "Well ... It seems that there's a chance I might actually be having a baby, so ... birth plans?" and then actually reached out and touched wood. He nodded sagely as if there was nothing at all odd with a woman nearly 6 months pregnant, in
So we talked about episiotomies (ixnay unless there is a really damned good reason) and drugs (don't want sedating meds)and his hospital recommendation (here is great), etc etc and ... then he dropped the bombshell. Not only will I not be having any more ultrasounds between now and delivery( barring something unforeseen), he's also leaving the practice in 2 weeks.
Which just elevated my chances of having Dr Shitty deliver my kid. *sigh*. I tell ya, the things I go through for this kid.
Good news is that His Highness is doing well, heart rate 120-130s (I have a laid back son), my weight gain is not horrific and my urine remains stellar. Blood pressure is 110/70 which is excellent and although the swelling remains and the carpal tunnel has worsened, so far all systems are go.
I got stabbed for thyroid levels and my next appointment will be my gestational diabetes testing. I am nearly 24 weeks. Holy crap. I may actually be having a baby.
Oh yeah ... and I registered this weekend. Yikes. Thank you, Auntie Em.
Monday, July 04, 2005
What's your out?
It's early morning of the Fourth and here I am, coffee in hand and typing away. Yes, damnit, feel honoured that I'm writing here instead of boinking my delectable husband.
It's odd - first trimester I had absolutely no interest in sex. None. Zip. Zero. Nada. That may have been due to the overwhelming nausea, but for a gal like me ... very odd.
Second trimester - it's been "bring it on, big man!". Crazy monkey sex, I'm telling you. Yes, I know it's more information than y'all needed but hey it's my blog, damnit. Now I had read that orgasms are easier to reach in second trimester (what, you think I google stuff for the baby??)but oh MAN! Even for a sexually unrepressed woman such as myself, these several weeks have been a joy and delight.
In honour of that bliss, I wish you all a Happy Fourth of July, as well as a belated Happy Canada Day to my Canadian followers (I believe that means you, Jocelyn).
Also, in honour of that bliss and all it entails, I urge you in the strongest manner, to email, call and write your senators and representatives and tell them in no uncertain terms that we do NOT want a political appointee on the Supreme Court. Please tell them how Roe v Wade should remain the law of the land, if for no other reason than the government should keep its morals off all of our bodies. It's a slippery slope, folks ... if Roe is overturned, how long before we have a real-life re-enactment of The Handmaid's Tale?
Yes, it may sound hysterical and knee-jerkish, but Bush seems to be in love with "embryo adoption". Seeing how virulently anti-choice those who do his thinking for him are and how an ultra-con nomination to the Supreme Court would put all branches of government under the thumb of aforementioned ultra-cons ... well, I'd be pretty damned afraid.
You see, I believe in my own right to self-determination. I don't need the government to tell me that they can do my thinking for me and decide that, for example, abortion is wrong. I can decide for myself, thankyouverymuch. I have the ability to reason, consider and weigh possibilities and rationale. White male conservatives should not have the ability to tell me how to think or what to do with my reproduction and body parts. Screw that - men have been doing that to women for centuries. Roe changed that. And Bush et al want to go back to the Taliban era.
But I have an out. I'm Canadian. And I tell you, nice people, that much though I love this country and all that goes with it, and no matter how proud I am that I will eventually get my US citizenship ... if Roe goes out, so do I. I will rise without question, sell what I own (hah!) here and move back to Canada, land of the free, home of the brave.
Yeah, it may be a chickenshit reaction. Sure, I could stay here and "fight". But why? In Canada, we had this same fight in the 80s when they finally decriminalized abortion (yeah, it was a slow process. You could get one before that, but it was tougher). I'm done.
It's 2005. We're supposedly an intelligent and (slightly) enlightened society. Why should I have to justify my decisions about MY body to anyone, especially a bunch of neocons? Why should I stay in a country where being white and a certain kind of Christian seems to, increasingly, be the only way to go?
I'll go home to Canada and take my husband and infant son with me -where it's safe. Where multi-culturalism is embraced and the taxes are high and things are by no means perfect. Where your surgery might get cancelled the day before it's scheduled even after you've been waiting 4 months for it, but you will eventually get it. Gratis. And where you get one year of paid maternity leave because the country believes it's important that mothers (or fathers)and infants do better when they've had time to bond and grow. Where hockey is the only national religion that counts.
So yeah, I have an out. I can move back home. What are you going to do?
It's odd - first trimester I had absolutely no interest in sex. None. Zip. Zero. Nada. That may have been due to the overwhelming nausea, but for a gal like me ... very odd.
Second trimester - it's been "bring it on, big man!". Crazy monkey sex, I'm telling you. Yes, I know it's more information than y'all needed but hey it's my blog, damnit. Now I had read that orgasms are easier to reach in second trimester (what, you think I google stuff for the baby??)but oh MAN! Even for a sexually unrepressed woman such as myself, these several weeks have been a joy and delight.
In honour of that bliss, I wish you all a Happy Fourth of July, as well as a belated Happy Canada Day to my Canadian followers (I believe that means you, Jocelyn).
Also, in honour of that bliss and all it entails, I urge you in the strongest manner, to email, call and write your senators and representatives and tell them in no uncertain terms that we do NOT want a political appointee on the Supreme Court. Please tell them how Roe v Wade should remain the law of the land, if for no other reason than the government should keep its morals off all of our bodies. It's a slippery slope, folks ... if Roe is overturned, how long before we have a real-life re-enactment of The Handmaid's Tale?
Yes, it may sound hysterical and knee-jerkish, but Bush seems to be in love with "embryo adoption". Seeing how virulently anti-choice those who do his thinking for him are and how an ultra-con nomination to the Supreme Court would put all branches of government under the thumb of aforementioned ultra-cons ... well, I'd be pretty damned afraid.
You see, I believe in my own right to self-determination. I don't need the government to tell me that they can do my thinking for me and decide that, for example, abortion is wrong. I can decide for myself, thankyouverymuch. I have the ability to reason, consider and weigh possibilities and rationale. White male conservatives should not have the ability to tell me how to think or what to do with my reproduction and body parts. Screw that - men have been doing that to women for centuries. Roe changed that. And Bush et al want to go back to the Taliban era.
But I have an out. I'm Canadian. And I tell you, nice people, that much though I love this country and all that goes with it, and no matter how proud I am that I will eventually get my US citizenship ... if Roe goes out, so do I. I will rise without question, sell what I own (hah!) here and move back to Canada, land of the free, home of the brave.
Yeah, it may be a chickenshit reaction. Sure, I could stay here and "fight". But why? In Canada, we had this same fight in the 80s when they finally decriminalized abortion (yeah, it was a slow process. You could get one before that, but it was tougher). I'm done.
It's 2005. We're supposedly an intelligent and (slightly) enlightened society. Why should I have to justify my decisions about MY body to anyone, especially a bunch of neocons? Why should I stay in a country where being white and a certain kind of Christian seems to, increasingly, be the only way to go?
I'll go home to Canada and take my husband and infant son with me -where it's safe. Where multi-culturalism is embraced and the taxes are high and things are by no means perfect. Where your surgery might get cancelled the day before it's scheduled even after you've been waiting 4 months for it, but you will eventually get it. Gratis. And where you get one year of paid maternity leave because the country believes it's important that mothers (or fathers)and infants do better when they've had time to bond and grow. Where hockey is the only national religion that counts.
So yeah, I have an out. I can move back home. What are you going to do?
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