7 years ago today I was determined to break out of the depressive funk I was in. I took 3 of my 4 kids, who were 5, 3, and 1 to the downtown library storytime (instead of the base one). The 7 year old was in school.
It was 40 below with windchill.
The baby, who was a 20-month old Hammy, peeled off his socks and shoes on the way to the library and SCREAMED at the top of his lungs the rest of the way there-- because he was probably getting frostbite in the van.
I was determined to be positive and happy and bust the down, depressed, guilty feeling I had. I had kids who needed puppet shows and books from the library and I had errands to run afterwards.
My period was late. I was pretty convinced it was messed up since the miscarriage in May. Or maybe it was hibernating. I had been hibernating after all.
After the library, I went to Target. I picked up a pregnancy test. It was a double pack. I had to use the bathroom so I took it right then in the Target bathroom. And it didn't work. I slipped it back in the box and took it home intending to call the company and get a refund.
I called the company from home and they apologized and promised coupons would come in the mail.
So I threw the defective one in my trash.
5 hours later, when Danny was home and I was able to use the bathroom again, I noticed that pregnancy test that didn't seem to work at all, now had two lines. Dumb defective test. I mentioned it to Danny. He said he saw it in the trash and figured it was past the 10 minutes as is written on the box-- so it couldn't be accurate. We decided I'd give my period a few more days to show up before testing again.
But then I ended bawling over something insignificant and decided to just test again that night.
I tested. It was positive before I even set it down on the bathtub.
It would be another 2 1/2 weeks before I found out I was carrying triplets.
Showing posts with label Dear Journal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dear Journal. Show all posts
Friday, January 15, 2016
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Hello Ma'am, would you like your usual room? AKA Labor & Delivery visit #248
I went into Labor & Delivery last night just before 10 p.m. when my contractions weren't stopping (even after taking two doses of Procardia). I had the same nurse I had about a week ago when I went in for contractions (a few days before my second round of profuse bleeding).
Two times the baby, now known as Biscuit, kicked the monitor so hard it flipped right over.
Before discharging me from the hospital, they decided to give me a dose of Terbutaline to really put a halt to the contractions.
I've been so worn out today-- not sure if it was from getting home around midnight or from all the drugs.
After the Procardia I took at 7:30 this morning, I had horrible nausea and chest pains and it had only been 10 minutes since the pill. It reminded me of how I felt with Hammy just 30 minutes before his birth. It didn't make sense that the pill would have that effect on my body THAT fast. But I was freaked out for a good twenty minutes wondering if Biscuit was about to pop out a little too undercooked.
I forced myself to eat a bowl of frosted mini-wheats to see if the pill was reacting so strongly because of an empty stomach. After that, I felt like any breath I took was going to be my last. It was such an effort to breath and to keep my heart beating. So I went and laid down and prayed until I fell asleep.
It's 2:47 p.m. now and my next pill is due at 3:30. I'm not looking forward to it.
I'm getting stir-crazy being on bedrest. I want to just go to the commissary or something. It's weird being home and not being able to go anywhere other than the hospital or appointments. However, I am very grateful to not be hospitalized.
Two times the baby, now known as Biscuit, kicked the monitor so hard it flipped right over.
Before discharging me from the hospital, they decided to give me a dose of Terbutaline to really put a halt to the contractions.
I've been so worn out today-- not sure if it was from getting home around midnight or from all the drugs.
After the Procardia I took at 7:30 this morning, I had horrible nausea and chest pains and it had only been 10 minutes since the pill. It reminded me of how I felt with Hammy just 30 minutes before his birth. It didn't make sense that the pill would have that effect on my body THAT fast. But I was freaked out for a good twenty minutes wondering if Biscuit was about to pop out a little too undercooked.
I forced myself to eat a bowl of frosted mini-wheats to see if the pill was reacting so strongly because of an empty stomach. After that, I felt like any breath I took was going to be my last. It was such an effort to breath and to keep my heart beating. So I went and laid down and prayed until I fell asleep.
It's 2:47 p.m. now and my next pill is due at 3:30. I'm not looking forward to it.
I'm getting stir-crazy being on bedrest. I want to just go to the commissary or something. It's weird being home and not being able to go anywhere other than the hospital or appointments. However, I am very grateful to not be hospitalized.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
You need to contact your husband now - Part IV
A couple of the brethren from my church came in to give me a priesthood blessing. And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that is the reason I did not have a 30 1/2 week baby or hemorrhage enough for a blood transfusion.
The bleeding slowed considerably after that. I sent Sarah home around 4 a.m.
Around 8:30 a.m. I had an ultrasound. The technician checked everything from the amniotic fluid levels to the clearness of it-- checking for blood in it (which there wasn't any). He measured the baby and she was measuring about a week bigger. He checked the placenta. It was still way down low partially over the cervix. But it appeared healthy and attached. He looked at my ovaries per my request. They were normal and walnut-sized.
From the time I arrived at the hospital until I was discharged about 12 hours later, they did a CBC (complete blood count) every two hours. At first the levels dropped considerably. But then they slowed. And then they remained steady.
When the doctor came in again to discharge me he explained, "No cooking, no cleaning, no chores."
He continued, "No bending, no lifting..."
"What if I bend over just slightly and change a diaper after the toddler has climbed on the couch?" I asked.
"No bending!" he barked. "And no diaper changing," he said as he noted it on the clipboard.
"So, am I on bedrest then?" I asked.
"No. When you're on bedrest you have to lay down all the time," he stated. "You can sit!" he said with a smirk.
"And," he added, "you may walk leisurely about your home. But you need to get help. No doing anything."
And so I did. I called my sister to verify she would still be coming the end of July. I called my mother-in-law to see if she could come take care of us until then. I called my friend Jeannie and she did come and take care of us for about 2 weeks until my mother-in-law arrived. My twins even started calling her, "Mom."
And here we are, a couple hospital visits for contractions, one for possible fluid leaking (don't worry I just peed myself) and one profuse bleeding (this morning as a matter of fact) later, still pregnant. Today I'm 33 weeks. I'm praying we make it to at least 35 weeks. There's nothing sweeter than being able to take my baby home from the hospital with me.
The End.
The bleeding slowed considerably after that. I sent Sarah home around 4 a.m.
Around 8:30 a.m. I had an ultrasound. The technician checked everything from the amniotic fluid levels to the clearness of it-- checking for blood in it (which there wasn't any). He measured the baby and she was measuring about a week bigger. He checked the placenta. It was still way down low partially over the cervix. But it appeared healthy and attached. He looked at my ovaries per my request. They were normal and walnut-sized.
From the time I arrived at the hospital until I was discharged about 12 hours later, they did a CBC (complete blood count) every two hours. At first the levels dropped considerably. But then they slowed. And then they remained steady.
When the doctor came in again to discharge me he explained, "No cooking, no cleaning, no chores."
He continued, "No bending, no lifting..."
"What if I bend over just slightly and change a diaper after the toddler has climbed on the couch?" I asked.
"No bending!" he barked. "And no diaper changing," he said as he noted it on the clipboard.
"So, am I on bedrest then?" I asked.
"No. When you're on bedrest you have to lay down all the time," he stated. "You can sit!" he said with a smirk.
"And," he added, "you may walk leisurely about your home. But you need to get help. No doing anything."
And so I did. I called my sister to verify she would still be coming the end of July. I called my mother-in-law to see if she could come take care of us until then. I called my friend Jeannie and she did come and take care of us for about 2 weeks until my mother-in-law arrived. My twins even started calling her, "Mom."
And here we are, a couple hospital visits for contractions, one for possible fluid leaking (don't worry I just peed myself) and one profuse bleeding (this morning as a matter of fact) later, still pregnant. Today I'm 33 weeks. I'm praying we make it to at least 35 weeks. There's nothing sweeter than being able to take my baby home from the hospital with me.
The End.
Friday, July 13, 2012
You need to contact your husband now-- Part III
I used my iPhone to look up my email from Danny with his emergency contact info. Danny had written in the email to call the base operator and give him the number to connect to him in case of emergency. So I did. It seemed like an emergency after all.
Granted, it was like 1:30 in the morning, but the operator was very confused.
"How did you get this number?" he first inquired.
"My husband said you could connect me to his number in -------------------," I told him.
"That doesn't sound like a number for -------------------," he said. "Tell me again."
So I start to repeat the first four digits again- only to be interrupted again.
He repeated the first four numbers back to me.
"Yes, that's right," I said. "Do you want the rest?"
He repeated the numbers again. "Hmm, that's not how that country's phone numbers start."
"Well how does it start?" I asked him.
He told me three of the four numbers I gave him. Then asked me for the whole number.
So I recited to him the entire number.
"Yeah, that has too many digits. It shouldn't have that many numbers in it," he said.
"Can you just leave out the number that you don't think fits and try it?" I asked.
He tried the number. No answer.
"Well, try it the other way please," I suggested.
He tried without the extra number. No answer.
He mulled over the strange number I had given him with one too many digits.
"Yeah, that just can't be right. ---------- country starts with ***. And this country starts with ***. I don't know why you have that number," he wondered aloud.
"I don't know either," I said. Seriously, I had never questioned it. I never thought I'd use it. And seeing as I'm not familiar with phone numbers in that country I didn't think to suggest it had to many digits before.
Sarah was giving me the I'll take care of this look. But Mr. Base Operator tried again and I got through to a Captain.
"May I speak with Capt. Danny?" I asked. (Actually I used his last name-- but I'm not printing that on the internet.)
"He's at lunch right now. Can I give him a message?" he said.
"This is his wife. I'm 30 weeks and I'm bleeding profusely. I don't know if I'm delivering here or if I'll be transferred," I told him.
"Do you want to leave a message for him?" he said.
"Could you tell him Nikki called? And that I'm in the hospital trying not to have the baby yet-- but I'm bleeding a lot." I said-- wondering why this wasn't sinking in.
"He's at lunch. I can give him a message," Capt. Could-be-more-helpful replied.
"Okay, well, please tell him I called and that this is an emergency. I don't know if the baby will be okay," I tried to clarify.
"Oh! I will have him call you. We have a phone downstairs he can use," he seemed to be catching on.
Sarah was giving me the very serious I will deal with him look, and gesturing to me to hand over the phone.
"Well, can you tell him to call my cell?" I asked. "I'm not in country, you know."
"Yes, I'll have him call you back in 5 minutes," he replied.
I relayed the message to Sarah and nurse Sandy. Sandy said, "Oh, hand me the phone. I'll take care of this."
But I said, "Let's see if he calls back like he said."
The person they sent to find Danny found him in the cafeteria.
He said, "Captain, you're going to have a baby. You need to call your wife."
Danny said, "That's not funny. She's not due for two months." But he recognized the serious look on his face.
And he did call me back. But I couldn't give him a clear answer when he started to ask questions.
"Are they going to deliver you there? Are they going to transfer the baby? Did they stop the bleeding? Do they know why you're bleeding?"
I just relayed to him whatever the nurse was saying.
Danny told me that after I had called and talked to the other captain, he was told that I couldn't call that number ever again. It wasn't a secure phone line in their classified area. Danny said he'd get me a good phone number and email it to me. He asked me to keep him updated on what was going to happen via email until I got a good number for him. He also apologized on behalf of the captain who was confused.
Sarah called a couple brethren from church to come give me a priesthood blessing. I think she called them before I called Danny. But I don't remember exactly. I just remember, they had to wait a little before they were allowed into my room.
Around the same time Sarah was calling the brethren, I started to get worried about what my prospects were. I decided to call my parents. My dad answered. That's when it started to sink in and I started to cry. I think it was the point when he said, "Be comforted in knowing what will happen is the Lord's will."
to be continued...
Granted, it was like 1:30 in the morning, but the operator was very confused.
"How did you get this number?" he first inquired.
"My husband said you could connect me to his number in -------------------," I told him.
"That doesn't sound like a number for -------------------," he said. "Tell me again."
So I start to repeat the first four digits again- only to be interrupted again.
He repeated the first four numbers back to me.
"Yes, that's right," I said. "Do you want the rest?"
He repeated the numbers again. "Hmm, that's not how that country's phone numbers start."
"Well how does it start?" I asked him.
He told me three of the four numbers I gave him. Then asked me for the whole number.
So I recited to him the entire number.
"Yeah, that has too many digits. It shouldn't have that many numbers in it," he said.
"Can you just leave out the number that you don't think fits and try it?" I asked.
He tried the number. No answer.
"Well, try it the other way please," I suggested.
He tried without the extra number. No answer.
He mulled over the strange number I had given him with one too many digits.
"Yeah, that just can't be right. ---------- country starts with ***. And this country starts with ***. I don't know why you have that number," he wondered aloud.
"I don't know either," I said. Seriously, I had never questioned it. I never thought I'd use it. And seeing as I'm not familiar with phone numbers in that country I didn't think to suggest it had to many digits before.
Sarah was giving me the I'll take care of this look. But Mr. Base Operator tried again and I got through to a Captain.
"May I speak with Capt. Danny?" I asked. (Actually I used his last name-- but I'm not printing that on the internet.)
"He's at lunch right now. Can I give him a message?" he said.
"This is his wife. I'm 30 weeks and I'm bleeding profusely. I don't know if I'm delivering here or if I'll be transferred," I told him.
"Do you want to leave a message for him?" he said.
"Could you tell him Nikki called? And that I'm in the hospital trying not to have the baby yet-- but I'm bleeding a lot." I said-- wondering why this wasn't sinking in.
"He's at lunch. I can give him a message," Capt. Could-be-more-helpful replied.
"Okay, well, please tell him I called and that this is an emergency. I don't know if the baby will be okay," I tried to clarify.
"Oh! I will have him call you. We have a phone downstairs he can use," he seemed to be catching on.
Sarah was giving me the very serious I will deal with him look, and gesturing to me to hand over the phone.
"Well, can you tell him to call my cell?" I asked. "I'm not in country, you know."
"Yes, I'll have him call you back in 5 minutes," he replied.
I relayed the message to Sarah and nurse Sandy. Sandy said, "Oh, hand me the phone. I'll take care of this."
But I said, "Let's see if he calls back like he said."
The person they sent to find Danny found him in the cafeteria.
He said, "Captain, you're going to have a baby. You need to call your wife."
Danny said, "That's not funny. She's not due for two months." But he recognized the serious look on his face.
And he did call me back. But I couldn't give him a clear answer when he started to ask questions.
"Are they going to deliver you there? Are they going to transfer the baby? Did they stop the bleeding? Do they know why you're bleeding?"
I just relayed to him whatever the nurse was saying.
Danny told me that after I had called and talked to the other captain, he was told that I couldn't call that number ever again. It wasn't a secure phone line in their classified area. Danny said he'd get me a good phone number and email it to me. He asked me to keep him updated on what was going to happen via email until I got a good number for him. He also apologized on behalf of the captain who was confused.
Sarah called a couple brethren from church to come give me a priesthood blessing. I think she called them before I called Danny. But I don't remember exactly. I just remember, they had to wait a little before they were allowed into my room.
Around the same time Sarah was calling the brethren, I started to get worried about what my prospects were. I decided to call my parents. My dad answered. That's when it started to sink in and I started to cry. I think it was the point when he said, "Be comforted in knowing what will happen is the Lord's will."
to be continued...
Monday, July 02, 2012
You need to contact your husband now. -- Part II
It was 11 p.m. and I headed into the bathroom immediately only to discover my britches covered in blood. I passed a clot the size of a golf ball. I briefly wondered if it was my mucous plug-- thinking I've never seen one before and thinking it didn't actually look mucousy.
I was shaking as I unplugged my phone from the charger and called my friend Jeannie. No answer. I should probably call the doctor. I'm sure he'll tell me to go in. I called the doctor's office. There was some strange recording that kept cycling and not ever getting to an answering service. I remembered that I had the doctor's cell phone number. I called it as blood was pouring down my legs.
The doctor said, "Everything will be alright. Go to the hospital and they will call me."
"What do I do with my kids?" I asked.
"Call a neighbor," he suggested.
I couldn't call Angela; her hubby was out of town.
I tried Jeannie's cell again. No answer. I tried Jeannie's husband. No answer.
I called my friend Crystal who lives just up the street. I was shaking with fear at that point.
"Crystal," I said shaking, "I uh..."
"I'll be right there," she said and hung up.
I went back to the bathroom again looking for some clean undies and a pad.
I had no idea Squdge was awake until he was standing in front of me staring at all the blood.
"Mommy?" Squdge said with wide worried eyes.
"Mommy's okay!" I lied. "See all done!" I quickly stood up and hid my blood-drenched undergarments.
Crystal was at the door. It must've taken her a full minute to get to my house. I explained to her what was happening and that I needed her to watch the kids so I could go to the hospital.
"Who's taking you to the hospital?" she asked.
"Me," I started to respond.
"No you're not," Crystal interrupted, "I can call my husband and have him watch the kids and I'll drive you."
"I'll try to call Sarah," I replied. I didn't want Crystal to have to wake her children.
I called my friend Sarah from a couple streets over, "Sarah, this is Nikki. I need you to take me to the hospital," I said weakly. I was sure it was fright that caused me to get weaker.
Sarah said, "Okay Nikki." And then she was silent for a moment.
"Your hubby's not home, is he?" I asked.
"No, he's not," she replied. "But I'll get Jacqui to come."
I sat on the couch with Crystal while I waited for Sarah or Jacqui. I wasn't sure which one was coming. I felt kind of silly asking someone to take me since I wasn't in any pain.
Squdge peeked at Crystal and me from around the corner. He looked worried and tired. I wondered if he understood what he saw in the bathroom-- all the blood.
Sarah came prepared with a towel for my seat, in case my water broke on the way to the hospital. She drove us the way the ambulance goes. It was new to me and made more sense. As we drove, we debated on all the reasons I could be bleeding and what the clot was from.
I was worried for the baby. She was still moving though. And I still wasn't experiencing any pain other than the random contraction.
When we got to the hospital and checked in, a nurse quickly appeared and escorted me to Labor & Delivery. I thought it strange that she didn't wheel me there in a wheelchair.
As we walked she asked me to tell her when it all started and to describe the color and amount. Then she asked me if I had Placenta Previa.
"YES!" I replied excitedly. There was a perfectly good reason for the bleeding! I was so relieved thinking we'd solved it. That was it. They'd stop it and all would be well.
After being hooked up to the monitors for a few minutes and having my vitals taken, the nurse said,
"Well, the baby looks good. You have a good-looking baby there. We'll monitor you for probably an hour and if everything continues to look good, we'll send you home."
Umm, NO?! Someone is going to explain the bleeding to me. I messaged to Sarah with my brain-waves. She understood clearly what I was not saying.
I said a prayer, "Please let them know fully what is going on and that everything will be taken care of before I go home. Please protect my baby."
And the next part was a blur. I don't remember how fast it happened. I do remember the head nurse putting an IV in my left arm. I remember Sarah holding my hand as I got a really hard contraction. Sarah was so calm. She had a very convincing demeanor.
Then I thought I peed the bed. I felt a gushing of warmth. Then came a little trickle. Then I felt another big gush of fluid leave my body.
"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry! I think I peed the bed!" I said in one breath. "Or my water broke! Oh my goodness! Did my water break?!"
Sandy, my very calm nurse lifted the sheet to look.
"Umm... no. It's not your water. It's blood. I'll be right back." She ran out of the room to get pads.
I turned to Sarah, "I know you've seen it all by now. Would you mind looking to see if it's blood AND my water. See if it looks diluted, you know?"
Sarah lifted the sheet. "No, it definitely looks like blood. A lot of it."
And if I thought the first part was a blur, the next part definitely was. I'm still recalling parts that I had forgotten.
There were just the two nurses in the room, and someone else popping in to give messages. Someone from lab came to draw my blood. There were lots of questions. Lots of talking. My body was shaking and I couldn't stop it.
"The pediatrician is on the way."
"The O.R. is prepped."
"What's your blood-type?"
"Dr. So-and-so is here."
"Dr. H is on the way."
"Anesthesiologist is here."
"Have you ever had a blood-transfusion?"
"Have you ever had a reaction to a blood-transfusion?"
"We're going to insert a catheter now."
"I don't want a catheter without an epidural first."
"A catheter is the least of your worries, honey."
"Do you have a living will?"
"Does anyone have power of attorney for you?"
"You need to contact your husband now."
"But why? My husband is deployed in --------. He can't come home anyway."
Sarah squeezed my hand, "Nikki, you need to call Danny."
to be continued...
I was shaking as I unplugged my phone from the charger and called my friend Jeannie. No answer. I should probably call the doctor. I'm sure he'll tell me to go in. I called the doctor's office. There was some strange recording that kept cycling and not ever getting to an answering service. I remembered that I had the doctor's cell phone number. I called it as blood was pouring down my legs.
The doctor said, "Everything will be alright. Go to the hospital and they will call me."
"What do I do with my kids?" I asked.
"Call a neighbor," he suggested.
I couldn't call Angela; her hubby was out of town.
I tried Jeannie's cell again. No answer. I tried Jeannie's husband. No answer.
I called my friend Crystal who lives just up the street. I was shaking with fear at that point.
"Crystal," I said shaking, "I uh..."
"I'll be right there," she said and hung up.
I went back to the bathroom again looking for some clean undies and a pad.
I had no idea Squdge was awake until he was standing in front of me staring at all the blood.
"Mommy?" Squdge said with wide worried eyes.
"Mommy's okay!" I lied. "See all done!" I quickly stood up and hid my blood-drenched undergarments.
Crystal was at the door. It must've taken her a full minute to get to my house. I explained to her what was happening and that I needed her to watch the kids so I could go to the hospital.
"Who's taking you to the hospital?" she asked.
"Me," I started to respond.
"No you're not," Crystal interrupted, "I can call my husband and have him watch the kids and I'll drive you."
"I'll try to call Sarah," I replied. I didn't want Crystal to have to wake her children.
I called my friend Sarah from a couple streets over, "Sarah, this is Nikki. I need you to take me to the hospital," I said weakly. I was sure it was fright that caused me to get weaker.
Sarah said, "Okay Nikki." And then she was silent for a moment.
"Your hubby's not home, is he?" I asked.
"No, he's not," she replied. "But I'll get Jacqui to come."
I sat on the couch with Crystal while I waited for Sarah or Jacqui. I wasn't sure which one was coming. I felt kind of silly asking someone to take me since I wasn't in any pain.
Squdge peeked at Crystal and me from around the corner. He looked worried and tired. I wondered if he understood what he saw in the bathroom-- all the blood.
Sarah came prepared with a towel for my seat, in case my water broke on the way to the hospital. She drove us the way the ambulance goes. It was new to me and made more sense. As we drove, we debated on all the reasons I could be bleeding and what the clot was from.
I was worried for the baby. She was still moving though. And I still wasn't experiencing any pain other than the random contraction.
When we got to the hospital and checked in, a nurse quickly appeared and escorted me to Labor & Delivery. I thought it strange that she didn't wheel me there in a wheelchair.
As we walked she asked me to tell her when it all started and to describe the color and amount. Then she asked me if I had Placenta Previa.
"YES!" I replied excitedly. There was a perfectly good reason for the bleeding! I was so relieved thinking we'd solved it. That was it. They'd stop it and all would be well.
After being hooked up to the monitors for a few minutes and having my vitals taken, the nurse said,
"Well, the baby looks good. You have a good-looking baby there. We'll monitor you for probably an hour and if everything continues to look good, we'll send you home."
Umm, NO?! Someone is going to explain the bleeding to me. I messaged to Sarah with my brain-waves. She understood clearly what I was not saying.
I said a prayer, "Please let them know fully what is going on and that everything will be taken care of before I go home. Please protect my baby."
And the next part was a blur. I don't remember how fast it happened. I do remember the head nurse putting an IV in my left arm. I remember Sarah holding my hand as I got a really hard contraction. Sarah was so calm. She had a very convincing demeanor.
Then I thought I peed the bed. I felt a gushing of warmth. Then came a little trickle. Then I felt another big gush of fluid leave my body.
"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry! I think I peed the bed!" I said in one breath. "Or my water broke! Oh my goodness! Did my water break?!"
Sandy, my very calm nurse lifted the sheet to look.
"Umm... no. It's not your water. It's blood. I'll be right back." She ran out of the room to get pads.
I turned to Sarah, "I know you've seen it all by now. Would you mind looking to see if it's blood AND my water. See if it looks diluted, you know?"
Sarah lifted the sheet. "No, it definitely looks like blood. A lot of it."
And if I thought the first part was a blur, the next part definitely was. I'm still recalling parts that I had forgotten.
There were just the two nurses in the room, and someone else popping in to give messages. Someone from lab came to draw my blood. There were lots of questions. Lots of talking. My body was shaking and I couldn't stop it.
"The pediatrician is on the way."
"The O.R. is prepped."
"What's your blood-type?"
"Dr. So-and-so is here."
"Dr. H is on the way."
"Anesthesiologist is here."
"Have you ever had a blood-transfusion?"
"Have you ever had a reaction to a blood-transfusion?"
"We're going to insert a catheter now."
"I don't want a catheter without an epidural first."
"A catheter is the least of your worries, honey."
"Do you have a living will?"
"Does anyone have power of attorney for you?"
"You need to contact your husband now."
"But why? My husband is deployed in --------. He can't come home anyway."
Sarah squeezed my hand, "Nikki, you need to call Danny."
to be continued...
Sunday, July 01, 2012
You need to contact your husband now -- Part I
Tuesday evening I had put the kids to bed. I sat outside the little boys' room crocheting beaded socks and singing Primary songs after just having read a chapter of Stella the Star Fairy to the kids.
They were all asleep. So I tidied up the living room. There wasn't much-- they had been doing a really good job on their chores. I vacuumed making nice straight lines that no one would be dancing on for at least 8 hours.
I ran a sink full of soapy water so I could wash the big dishes that Pookie hadn't finished. I started the dishwasher. Then I remembered that I had a cute new shower curtain from the base yard sale page (on Facebook), and it had matching hooks to go with it.
I'll just grab the step stool and hang this curtain, I thought. If it's strenuous at all, I'll stop and ask a friend to do it for me tomorrow.
Other than a couple days of random contractions, I was doing pretty good pregnancy-wise. I was getting worn out and had recently discovered I could no longer scrub bathtubs or even bathe small children. But considering all things, we were doing pretty good getting along through our routines and days without Danny.
So back to the shower curtain. It was cute. Shark, fish, octopus, and sea creatures adorned it happily. The hooks matched perfectly. What a deal for $5!
I started hanging the curtain, easy-peasy. No pain. No strain. Nothing at all. I continued through all 12 hooks and removed the ducky curtain and hooks at the same time. I glanced at the mirror behind me to see how it looked from that angle. Looking good! The kids will love it!
I stepped off the step stool and felt wetness on my legs, just under my skirt. I thought perhaps the ducky shower curtain was wet. It was a possibility. I felt the curtain. Nope. Totally dry.
The next thought was much scarier. Did my water break? I reached down to check things out. And nearly fainted when I saw my hand dripping with blood.
to be continued...
They were all asleep. So I tidied up the living room. There wasn't much-- they had been doing a really good job on their chores. I vacuumed making nice straight lines that no one would be dancing on for at least 8 hours.
I ran a sink full of soapy water so I could wash the big dishes that Pookie hadn't finished. I started the dishwasher. Then I remembered that I had a cute new shower curtain from the base yard sale page (on Facebook), and it had matching hooks to go with it.
I'll just grab the step stool and hang this curtain, I thought. If it's strenuous at all, I'll stop and ask a friend to do it for me tomorrow.
Other than a couple days of random contractions, I was doing pretty good pregnancy-wise. I was getting worn out and had recently discovered I could no longer scrub bathtubs or even bathe small children. But considering all things, we were doing pretty good getting along through our routines and days without Danny.
So back to the shower curtain. It was cute. Shark, fish, octopus, and sea creatures adorned it happily. The hooks matched perfectly. What a deal for $5!
I started hanging the curtain, easy-peasy. No pain. No strain. Nothing at all. I continued through all 12 hooks and removed the ducky curtain and hooks at the same time. I glanced at the mirror behind me to see how it looked from that angle. Looking good! The kids will love it!
I stepped off the step stool and felt wetness on my legs, just under my skirt. I thought perhaps the ducky shower curtain was wet. It was a possibility. I felt the curtain. Nope. Totally dry.
The next thought was much scarier. Did my water break? I reached down to check things out. And nearly fainted when I saw my hand dripping with blood.
to be continued...
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
My perspective on messes.
As the kids were finishing lunch, I was reorganizing the freezers. I came across a bucket of chocolate & vanilla ice cream that only had about 2 1/2 " left in the bottom. I decided to let them have it as a dessert. After scooping up little glass dishes of ice cream, I called the oldest four in to give them theirs. They all agreed, "Organizing the freezer is great!"
Not two minutes later, while trying to scoop the frozen yumminess out, Pookie dropped his bowl on the floor and it shattered. As I was cleaning it up thinking about why can't it just be broken glass and why does it have to be complicated and sticky too, I had the same realization I had last night while cleaning up cream cheese chicken from a cloth-covered folding chair.
Last night we had cream cheese chicken for dinner. The kids love it. But if either of the twins gets anything on their hands while eating, they feel the need to shake it off. Unfortunately, there's often a spoon in their hand still.
So last night after I confiscated their utensils and bowls, I crawled around the table cleaning up messes on the floor. Then I had to clean up the cloth-covered folding chair coated in cream cheese chicken. Since we got rid of the bench we don't have enough seating at the table-- thus the folding chair usage.
And I thought, Sheesh. Why can't they be sitting in a hard-wood chair? Why do the twins have to create the messiest outcome possible?
And then I thought, This is probably nothing compared to the messes they may make as teenagers. Cream cheese chicken took 30 seconds to clean out of the cloth-covered folding chair. Ice cream and glass took about 20 minutes to get it completely cleaned up and safe. But how innocent and small are these things compared to what I know some teenagers go through? Some larger scale woes?
And then I was grateful they are still small and impressionable. They are eager to learn and receptive to teaching-- even my 10 year old. I hugged my little buddies and sent them on their way to create more messes we'll all learn from.
Not two minutes later, while trying to scoop the frozen yumminess out, Pookie dropped his bowl on the floor and it shattered. As I was cleaning it up thinking about why can't it just be broken glass and why does it have to be complicated and sticky too, I had the same realization I had last night while cleaning up cream cheese chicken from a cloth-covered folding chair.
Last night we had cream cheese chicken for dinner. The kids love it. But if either of the twins gets anything on their hands while eating, they feel the need to shake it off. Unfortunately, there's often a spoon in their hand still.
So last night after I confiscated their utensils and bowls, I crawled around the table cleaning up messes on the floor. Then I had to clean up the cloth-covered folding chair coated in cream cheese chicken. Since we got rid of the bench we don't have enough seating at the table-- thus the folding chair usage.
And I thought, Sheesh. Why can't they be sitting in a hard-wood chair? Why do the twins have to create the messiest outcome possible?
And then I thought, This is probably nothing compared to the messes they may make as teenagers. Cream cheese chicken took 30 seconds to clean out of the cloth-covered folding chair. Ice cream and glass took about 20 minutes to get it completely cleaned up and safe. But how innocent and small are these things compared to what I know some teenagers go through? Some larger scale woes?
And then I was grateful they are still small and impressionable. They are eager to learn and receptive to teaching-- even my 10 year old. I hugged my little buddies and sent them on their way to create more messes we'll all learn from.
Sunday, April 08, 2012
My kids were a pack of wild howler monkeys today.
And don't think it was because of Easter candy. The bunny came early to our
home and they had their sugar-fest yesterday.
No, it was the compounding effect of crazy going on that encouraged them to continue the madness. Yes, I'm sure of it.
We have a friend, Mike, that likes to help with the twins in sacrament meeting. Unfortunately, he makes things worse. He thinks everything the twins do is funny. He does recognize their behavior as naughty also, but he laughs at it which eggs them on. It was utter madness.
Peachie must be teething or something because she would not go to anyone today at church. Not the ladies that like to pass her around or the 10 and 11 year old girls who love to cuddle her. She wanted to sit on my lap as I played the piano in Primary and play it with her feet. Peach did not want to stand next to the high keys of the piano and play them. That resulted in her screaming which brought a kind person over to see if they could hold her-- which resulted in more screaming. She wouldn't even go to her beloved Pookie when his class came in to Primary for singing time/sharing time.
There was a few hours of calm after church when I allowed the kids to watch the Veggietales movie, Jonah, that Grandma W. sent. I let them watch it twice. Hey, I needed a nap. So I was mostly napping on the couch while they watched.
It was shortly after that I let Bun take a shower. I explained to him how we properly and thoroughly wash ourselves from head to toe. When you're 6 1/2, you sometimes need reminder instruction on how to shower. Bun decided to turn it into a shower-bath. Then at some point the bathroom turned into a water park. He told me later as I was squeezing out towels, "I didn't know it was flooding the bathroom, I was just running back and forth in the bathtub."
Squeezing out towels wasn't fast enough. So I got my thirsty mop and started sopping it up. It didn't seem to make a difference. There was still 2 inches of water on the floor in most places and a minimum of 1 inch in the higher places. Yes, the entire floor of the bathroom was soaked.
So I got out the Little Green Bissell machine. I offered a prayer to Heavenly Father which included "Please let me know if this is a bad idea and will electrocute me."
I started sucking up the water as fast as the Little Green machine let me. It got to the fill line incredibly fast. I emptied it and continued. I focused on the water pooling at the base of the cupboards-- fearing if it was there any longer there'd be water damage and could possibly cost hundred of dollars to repair. It was filled four times and emptied before I noticed it slowing down in that one area.
During this time the twins watched me at the doorway of the bathroom. I told them, "Stay there buddies. It's very wet in here and dangerous." Last thing I needed was a cracked skull and an ER visit.
The twins ran off and would come back sometimes with Peach. I called to Pookie, "Come get Peach away from the bathroom please." He'd scurry her away.
I continued with the Little Green machine. It was very helpful. And then the twins reappeared with a look of pure fear on their faces. I could hear Peachie crying. I could feel the adrenaline pumping. I raced into the living room expecting to fight off some bad guys and protect my babies.
But it was just the oldest four running amok in the dark keeping the lightswitches off whenever the twins tried to turn them on. I stood their for a minute as each one in turn noticed me standing there and then acted like it wasn't them.
I was livid. Mostly it was the lying that set me off. "It wasn't me! I wasn't turning them off! I wasn't scaring them!"
I sent them to time out corners, took away their playdate privilege (which saddens me because that means I don't get to go play with my friend too), and warned them, "You better not say a word. I'm calling Logan and Tyler's mom and NOBODY is going tomorrow. Instead you will be learning how to scrub every tiny bit of the bathroom. If any one of you is not showing obedience in learning how tomorrow, NOBODY will go to their house for a rescheduled time. Is this how you want to spend Spring Break?" There was a collective groan from the oldest four time-out detainees and then silence as they listened to me leave the message. The looks on their face to each other said, "She actually did it. She cancelled our playdate."
Everything after the flooding/terrorizing of small children seemed anti-climatic but still bothersome. Like: the kids trying to peel boiled eggs that had Egg-arounds on them and then proceeding to dig out the bits of egg they could get to and eat them (instead of oh, removing the egg-around before peeling), or also anti-climatic was the weird smeary substance from the trash can into the dining room (about 8 feet) which I quickly figured out was yolk from the boiled eggs and bits of white from the eggs swept up by a helpful Gabbers, the twins breaking into tiny bits plastic eggs and scattering them around the living room like confetti, Pookie stealing Hammy's stuffed duck and being mean to it, and then Bun's stuffed cow shortly after the duck-torture.
So glad it's bedtime. I need the madness to slow down.
Thanks for listening!
No, it was the compounding effect of crazy going on that encouraged them to continue the madness. Yes, I'm sure of it.
We have a friend, Mike, that likes to help with the twins in sacrament meeting. Unfortunately, he makes things worse. He thinks everything the twins do is funny. He does recognize their behavior as naughty also, but he laughs at it which eggs them on. It was utter madness.
Peachie must be teething or something because she would not go to anyone today at church. Not the ladies that like to pass her around or the 10 and 11 year old girls who love to cuddle her. She wanted to sit on my lap as I played the piano in Primary and play it with her feet. Peach did not want to stand next to the high keys of the piano and play them. That resulted in her screaming which brought a kind person over to see if they could hold her-- which resulted in more screaming. She wouldn't even go to her beloved Pookie when his class came in to Primary for singing time/sharing time.
There was a few hours of calm after church when I allowed the kids to watch the Veggietales movie, Jonah, that Grandma W. sent. I let them watch it twice. Hey, I needed a nap. So I was mostly napping on the couch while they watched.
It was shortly after that I let Bun take a shower. I explained to him how we properly and thoroughly wash ourselves from head to toe. When you're 6 1/2, you sometimes need reminder instruction on how to shower. Bun decided to turn it into a shower-bath. Then at some point the bathroom turned into a water park. He told me later as I was squeezing out towels, "I didn't know it was flooding the bathroom, I was just running back and forth in the bathtub."
Squeezing out towels wasn't fast enough. So I got my thirsty mop and started sopping it up. It didn't seem to make a difference. There was still 2 inches of water on the floor in most places and a minimum of 1 inch in the higher places. Yes, the entire floor of the bathroom was soaked.
So I got out the Little Green Bissell machine. I offered a prayer to Heavenly Father which included "Please let me know if this is a bad idea and will electrocute me."
I started sucking up the water as fast as the Little Green machine let me. It got to the fill line incredibly fast. I emptied it and continued. I focused on the water pooling at the base of the cupboards-- fearing if it was there any longer there'd be water damage and could possibly cost hundred of dollars to repair. It was filled four times and emptied before I noticed it slowing down in that one area.
During this time the twins watched me at the doorway of the bathroom. I told them, "Stay there buddies. It's very wet in here and dangerous." Last thing I needed was a cracked skull and an ER visit.
The twins ran off and would come back sometimes with Peach. I called to Pookie, "Come get Peach away from the bathroom please." He'd scurry her away.
I continued with the Little Green machine. It was very helpful. And then the twins reappeared with a look of pure fear on their faces. I could hear Peachie crying. I could feel the adrenaline pumping. I raced into the living room expecting to fight off some bad guys and protect my babies.
But it was just the oldest four running amok in the dark keeping the lightswitches off whenever the twins tried to turn them on. I stood their for a minute as each one in turn noticed me standing there and then acted like it wasn't them.
I was livid. Mostly it was the lying that set me off. "It wasn't me! I wasn't turning them off! I wasn't scaring them!"
I sent them to time out corners, took away their playdate privilege (which saddens me because that means I don't get to go play with my friend too), and warned them, "You better not say a word. I'm calling Logan and Tyler's mom and NOBODY is going tomorrow. Instead you will be learning how to scrub every tiny bit of the bathroom. If any one of you is not showing obedience in learning how tomorrow, NOBODY will go to their house for a rescheduled time. Is this how you want to spend Spring Break?" There was a collective groan from the oldest four time-out detainees and then silence as they listened to me leave the message. The looks on their face to each other said, "She actually did it. She cancelled our playdate."
Everything after the flooding/terrorizing of small children seemed anti-climatic but still bothersome. Like: the kids trying to peel boiled eggs that had Egg-arounds on them and then proceeding to dig out the bits of egg they could get to and eat them (instead of oh, removing the egg-around before peeling), or also anti-climatic was the weird smeary substance from the trash can into the dining room (about 8 feet) which I quickly figured out was yolk from the boiled eggs and bits of white from the eggs swept up by a helpful Gabbers, the twins breaking into tiny bits plastic eggs and scattering them around the living room like confetti, Pookie stealing Hammy's stuffed duck and being mean to it, and then Bun's stuffed cow shortly after the duck-torture.
So glad it's bedtime. I need the madness to slow down.
Thanks for listening!
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Just something on my mind today
About 6:30 a.m. as I was cuddling Danny before he had to leave for work to do some deployment readiness tests, I realized that he was't going to be there for my c-section. I knew when we learned of his deployment that he wouldn't be here for the baby's birth, but it didn't click that I'd be enduring a c-section alone.
I started bawling. I tried to stifle it so I wouldn't wake the three sleeping children in our room. But you know what happens when you're bawling and try to stop it? The ugly cry. It got ugly. So then I just tried to quiet it with my blanket.
Remember my first c-section-- the twin birth story? I know not every c-section is like that. But I was pretty traumatized. And even though through Peach's c-section I was numb, it was still uncomfortable after she was pulled out and they were shoving my guts all around and pressing on my lungs rearranging things and whatnot. I didn't want to do that alone.
Danny's mom has talked about probably being able to come when the baby is born. But she would be with the other 7 kids. And whether or not Danny could connect with me via Skype, I wasn't sure my doctor would allow it. And I can't squeeze Danny's hand over the computer.
So I called family. I am hoping my older sister can be with me. As much as I love my ward and neighbors, I don't want them to see my guts. Haha! I actually don't think I'd be comfortable with their presence. But I think Leslie can handle it. I hope anyway. Maybe if the doctor approves using Skype in the operating room Leslie can hold the computer. That's also assuming it's a good day to connect with Danny. *fingers crossed*
I started bawling. I tried to stifle it so I wouldn't wake the three sleeping children in our room. But you know what happens when you're bawling and try to stop it? The ugly cry. It got ugly. So then I just tried to quiet it with my blanket.
Remember my first c-section-- the twin birth story? I know not every c-section is like that. But I was pretty traumatized. And even though through Peach's c-section I was numb, it was still uncomfortable after she was pulled out and they were shoving my guts all around and pressing on my lungs rearranging things and whatnot. I didn't want to do that alone.
Danny's mom has talked about probably being able to come when the baby is born. But she would be with the other 7 kids. And whether or not Danny could connect with me via Skype, I wasn't sure my doctor would allow it. And I can't squeeze Danny's hand over the computer.
So I called family. I am hoping my older sister can be with me. As much as I love my ward and neighbors, I don't want them to see my guts. Haha! I actually don't think I'd be comfortable with their presence. But I think Leslie can handle it. I hope anyway. Maybe if the doctor approves using Skype in the operating room Leslie can hold the computer. That's also assuming it's a good day to connect with Danny. *fingers crossed*
Monday, March 05, 2012
Waiting for Tater (Part II)
I sadly put my Tater on the carseat that was affixed to the ambulance stretcher. The EMTs reassured me that they had plenty of blankets to keep him warm. But I asked if he could take his blanket for comfort especially since Danny wouldn't be riding in the ambulance alongside him- but following along in the little blue car. They agreed Tater's blanket would be a nice comfort for him.
(If Danny didn't follow in the blue car, he'd have no transportation home when they were all done.)
I stayed home with the other 6 kids. Squdge waved out the window saying, "Bye Buddy. Bye! Bye!" and continued standing there several minutes after watching the firetruck, ambulance, little blue car, and other emergency vehicles drive away.
Squdge had a hard time going to sleep that night not knowing why his buddy Tater wasn't back yet. We shared the following conversation three or four times:
"Buddy go way?" a big-eyed Squdge would ask me.
"Yes, your buddy went to the doctor." I'd reply.
"Bench fall Buddy's foot? Buddy owee?"
"Yep, the bench hurt his foot. Tater is going to doctor to get all better. The doctor will take care of him." I told him-- hopefully.
"Buddy need band-aid!" Squdge would say excitedly and pull me towards the garage where the first-aid kit is kept.
"Well, your buddy needs a sort of big band-aid. The doctors will make it better."
Then Squdge would play with Peach (who is often just a tagalong to the twins) until he'd think about his missing buddy and we'd start the conversation again. The other four children fell asleep relatively quickly following the excitement. But not Squdge and Peach. And definitely not me. I needed to know how my little guy was doing.
One hour after Danny arrived at the ER I tried to call him. That was 9:15 p.m. But his cellphone rang a few times and went to voicemail. Maybe it was on vibrate and maybe the doctor was with them at the moment, I reasoned.
I called again at 9:45 p.m. same thing. I called at 10:15 p.m. reasoning it had been 2 full hours. They must know something.
No answer.
10:45 p.m. the phone goes straight to voicemail. The battery must have died.
11:15 p.m. I try again anyway and it also goes directly to voicemail.
11:45 p.m. It's been 3 1/2 hours since they arrived at the ER. Surely they must have been released from the ER by now, fallen asleep at the wheel on the way home, and died.
I carried the sleeping babies to their beds and forced myself to tidy-up the living room.
I stared out the front window pleading to the heavens to bring my baby home! I prayed. I paced. I watched the clock.
I played Scramble with Friends on my phone. But no more friends were taking their turns. It was late and I didn't have anyone to call. I had called grandparents earlier to ask for their prayers on Tater's behalf. But they were an hour ahead of me and since I had no news, I couldn't call them at this late hour.
It was midnight. I had the house phone and my cellphone beside me. I stared at them, willing them to ring.
I prayed. I stared at the phones. I looked out the window. Nothing. nothing. and more nothing.
Then I decided I could live with the paranoid mother stigma and I called the hospital myself. It was about 10 minutes after midnight.
I said in one breath, "My 2 year old was brought into the ER by ambulance nearly four hours ago and I haven't heard anything. I'm wondering if they were released or if they're still there." Then I added, "My husband should be with him. He followed the ambulance."
She verified who she was talking with and started to explain that they were just giving Tater a procedural sedation so he could handle all the stitching they'd need to do.
I asked her, "Does this mean he didn't break any toes? Did they x-ray?"
She told me she'd pull my husband out of the room and have him give me a call right back. I asked her to tell him to call my cellphone instead of the house phone so the other kids wouldn't wake up.
And then I waited a few minutes. 12:15 a.m. Then I pondered what "a call right back" meant in ER-speak. 12:25 a.m. Then I wondered if they couldn't make an outbound call to a cellphone from the hospital.
12:45 a.m. I wondered why Danny wouldn't at that point just call the house phone. Surely he'd know I needed to know what was going on with my poor little guy!
But there was still no call.
to be continued...
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
"My baby! My baby!" was all I could force out. Part I
I was in the laundry room Sunday evening and heard Gabbers scream (not an uncommon sound). Then I heard Tater scream and scream and SCREAM! And I figured, Danny will take care of this since he's out there. I continued to fold washcloths and towels.
Then I thought I heard, "Nikki!" Then I definitely heard Danny yell in a very commanding voice, "NICOLE!!!"
I came running out of the laundry room, "What? What?! What's the matter?"
Danny was holding Tater who had blood pouring off his foot and said, "I need a clean dry washcloth right now. The bench fell on him and his toe is split down the middle."
I ran into the laundry and determined a cloth diaper (prefold) would be more absorbent than a washcloth and brought it back. And then I almost fainted when I saw it. I'm not a squeamish person. But this was my 2 year old-- a baby.
I said, "Should I call 911?"
Danny said, "Yes."
Then I convinced my stubborn phone to dial the 3 simple digits.
"911 What's your emergency?"
That's when I started to go into shock. "My baby! My baby!" was all I could force out. My arms and legs were growing weak.
"Ma'am! Is your baby breathing?" the 911 dispatcher said.
"My baby, yes, YES he's breathing but he's bleeding very badly."
"Okay let's start with your address."
I gave him my address.
"And your phone number that you're calling from in case we get disconnected."
I gave him my phone number.
Danny was saying to me at the same time, "Sit down before you faint! Sit on the couch!"
The dispatcher continued, "Ma'am, tell me what happened to your baby."
"Well, actually he's 2. The dining table bench fell on his foot and it looks like one of his toes split down the middle," I told him.
Danny put Tater on my lap and had me hold the cloth diaper around his foot and toes. Tater was screaming and reaching for his foot.
In between the dispatcher reassuring me that help was on the way, I reassured Tater and explained to the other children that we needed them to be calm and good helpers right now and that some people were on their way to help him. I asked Gabbers to bring his blanket.
I told the dispatcher that our porch light was burned out but my husband would be out front to flag them down.
Around this time, Tater stopped screaming and curled into a ball. But he was shaking. or I was. Or we both were.
The dispatcher kept me on the phone as the cops arrived first. The dispatcher said, "Someone should be there by now. Do you see anyone?"
"Umm, yeah, but I think they're cops. They have guns."
"Okay," said the dispatcher, "I'll stay on the phone with you until the fire department or the paramedics arrive."
"The fire department? Why are they coming?" I asked.
"We dispatched them all when you called to make sure we could help with whatever emergency you had," he said as the firetruck with flashing lights showed up. But no siren. At least not that I remember.
I said, "They're here. Some firemen are in my house."
And we ended our call.
It was maybe 3 minutes later when the ambulance arrived. They told me their names and spoke calmly to me and Tater.
I told them I couldn't look. They purposely blocked my view as they examined it with a flashlight and conferred with each other "It looks like a Partial-Avulsion of the smallest toe" and "this toe too."
They reassured me I did the right thing and that the cloth diaper was a good call. They said they probably wouldn't remove it and would let the ER doctor handle that in case parts of the area had started to coagulate.
The paramedics asked if we wanted to take Tater to the emergency room or send him by ambulance. Since I can't drive and someone needed to stay with the kids, we couldn't figure out how Danny could take him to the emergency room and still apply pressure the whole time.
So we sent him by ambulance. alone.
to be continued...
Monday, February 27, 2012
I want to know where you live next- because I'm going to buy stock in the ER
Danny's co-worker said that to him (Danny) before he left work.
You see, I had called his work, asked for Danny and they said, "Is this his wife?" Since the events spoken of in the last post and continuing multiple fainting spells daily, his office has been keenly aware of my calls and the possibility of him leaving at a moment's notice.
"Yes, this is his wife, but it's not MY emergency."
Hammy had somehow knocked the box of laundry detergent on the floor. And somehow in the process got it in his eyes and rubbed it in good. Then he proceeded to scream.
I called the clinic while I flushed Hammy's eyes with cool water. The warning on the side of the box of detergent said, "Flush with water and call your physician."
The nurse said, "Take him to the ER."
I said, "Uhh, really? I don't really want to go to the ER. I'm flushing his eyes with water."
I instructed Hammy to continue to flush his eyes after I had been doing it for him 4 or 5 minutes.
The nurse from the clinic replied,
"He might have a chemical burn. You should take him right away."
So Danny rushed home and took Hammy to the ER. By then we had flushed his eyes for at least 10 minutes.
The ER doc said we did good because there was no sign of harm or damage. *phew* Hammy confessed in the ER that he was scooping up the detergent in his hands to put back in box and decided to blow it in. That's when it got in his eyes.
That was the second ER visit in less than a week. But you know what "they" say? These things happen in threes.
to be continued...
You see, I had called his work, asked for Danny and they said, "Is this his wife?" Since the events spoken of in the last post and continuing multiple fainting spells daily, his office has been keenly aware of my calls and the possibility of him leaving at a moment's notice.
"Yes, this is his wife, but it's not MY emergency."
Hammy had somehow knocked the box of laundry detergent on the floor. And somehow in the process got it in his eyes and rubbed it in good. Then he proceeded to scream.
I called the clinic while I flushed Hammy's eyes with cool water. The warning on the side of the box of detergent said, "Flush with water and call your physician."
The nurse said, "Take him to the ER."
I said, "Uhh, really? I don't really want to go to the ER. I'm flushing his eyes with water."
I instructed Hammy to continue to flush his eyes after I had been doing it for him 4 or 5 minutes.
The nurse from the clinic replied,
"He might have a chemical burn. You should take him right away."
So Danny rushed home and took Hammy to the ER. By then we had flushed his eyes for at least 10 minutes.
The ER doc said we did good because there was no sign of harm or damage. *phew* Hammy confessed in the ER that he was scooping up the detergent in his hands to put back in box and decided to blow it in. That's when it got in his eyes.
That was the second ER visit in less than a week. But you know what "they" say? These things happen in threes.
to be continued...
Monday, February 20, 2012
Dear Baby #8, If you make it, here's the beginning of your story.
Wednesday late morning I fainted. Danny came home from work after a phone call from Pookie letting him know, "Mommy fell down and she's hurt." I called my OB and he said it often happens to women in pregnancy and to drink 3 quarts of water a day, get 3 meals and 2 to 3 snacks a day, and to promise to sit down immediately if I started to feel a faint coming on again.
Wednesday afternoon I spotted a little- just once and it was pink. I called the OB's office again and the nurse reassured me it was "normal" and it wasn't a concern if that was all. She also reassured me it had nothing to do with the fainting.
I fainted three more times Wednesday-- though not as strong as the first time and didn't leave me as incoherent. Thursday I fainted three times by lunchtime (12:30). That's when I called my OB again who sent me to the ER. So I called Danny back and he rushed home to help me prep the kids to go to friends' homes and to take me to the Emergency Room.
After numerous tests including blood pressure tests, blood tests, checking for signs of stroke, and EKG (all that came back normal), the cardiologist and ER doc agreed they should keep me for 24 hours under observation with a heart monitor and schedule an Echocardiogram and tests on my carotid artery for the next day (Friday).
The OB puzzled after reading over normal test results declared that I was exhausted from having so many children. He suggested I ask a relative, church member, or neighbor to help me out and to try to get a nap in everyday.
The doctor who took over when I got admitted to the hospital (and released from the ER) decided I was tired from having so many children and shot Danny several dirty looks. She kept insisting I get more sleep. She also suggested I put my oldest four children in public school and get my mother or sister to live with me throughout the remainder of my pregnancy.
The Cardiologist after reading normal Echocardiogram and Carotid artery test results and going over each fainting episode, determined it was a Vasovagal response brought on by pregnancy-- and said some women are more sensitive to the changes in pregnancy than others. He also gave me his card and asked me to see him if it continued.
All three doctors agreed that hydration, frequent small meals and more sleep would be highly beneficial.
Then 9 p.m. Sunday evening, twelve weeks pregnant, the contractions started. I wasn't sure at first. I mean, my uterus isn't that big-- the baby is only the size of a lime, but it was my body's response that was oh-so-familiar that told me what was going on. That and the five minute intervals.
I admit, I'm afraid. I don't really know what to do about any of it except pray. Will you join me?
Always yours,
Mommy
Wednesday afternoon I spotted a little- just once and it was pink. I called the OB's office again and the nurse reassured me it was "normal" and it wasn't a concern if that was all. She also reassured me it had nothing to do with the fainting.
I fainted three more times Wednesday-- though not as strong as the first time and didn't leave me as incoherent. Thursday I fainted three times by lunchtime (12:30). That's when I called my OB again who sent me to the ER. So I called Danny back and he rushed home to help me prep the kids to go to friends' homes and to take me to the Emergency Room.
After numerous tests including blood pressure tests, blood tests, checking for signs of stroke, and EKG (all that came back normal), the cardiologist and ER doc agreed they should keep me for 24 hours under observation with a heart monitor and schedule an Echocardiogram and tests on my carotid artery for the next day (Friday).
The OB puzzled after reading over normal test results declared that I was exhausted from having so many children. He suggested I ask a relative, church member, or neighbor to help me out and to try to get a nap in everyday.
The doctor who took over when I got admitted to the hospital (and released from the ER) decided I was tired from having so many children and shot Danny several dirty looks. She kept insisting I get more sleep. She also suggested I put my oldest four children in public school and get my mother or sister to live with me throughout the remainder of my pregnancy.
The Cardiologist after reading normal Echocardiogram and Carotid artery test results and going over each fainting episode, determined it was a Vasovagal response brought on by pregnancy-- and said some women are more sensitive to the changes in pregnancy than others. He also gave me his card and asked me to see him if it continued.
All three doctors agreed that hydration, frequent small meals and more sleep would be highly beneficial.
Then 9 p.m. Sunday evening, twelve weeks pregnant, the contractions started. I wasn't sure at first. I mean, my uterus isn't that big-- the baby is only the size of a lime, but it was my body's response that was oh-so-familiar that told me what was going on. That and the five minute intervals.
I admit, I'm afraid. I don't really know what to do about any of it except pray. Will you join me?
Always yours,
Mommy
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
30 lbs. down and 100 days logged
100 days ago I publicly declared I needed to lose weight. You can read that here. I had a vague idea of what to do.
Get motivated.
Tell other people (family and the blogosphere) I was planning to get in shape.
Eat healthier.
Exercise more.
Make goals so I know if I'm winning or losing.
I had no ideawhat a difference how invaluable Fat2FitRadio podcasts would play in my journey. They have played a HUGE role in my healthier thinking and healthier lifestlye.
I drank minimum of 8 glasses of water a day. In fact, there were probably only 2 days that I drank that little. Usually I drank 12-14 glasses. Sometimes I drank 16. Once I had 20.
I learned that I should keep my sodium intake below 2300 mg.
I ate my 5 a day fruits and vegetables. There were only a handful of days I didn't get enough.
I learned that I did NOT want to lose weight fast. My goal was to lose 1% of body weight per week to make sure I wasn't losing muscle and inhibiting my metabolism.
When things slowed down and I didn't seem to be losing even half a percent a week, I UPPED my calories and dropped the weight.
I averaged (while nursing an infant) 2200-2600 calories daily.
I didn't deprive myself. I learned about portion sizes. I discovered that if something was low-fat there was a good chance it was either high in sugar or sodium.
I tried to eat whole foods with less processing. But I am busy and a mother of 7 and therefore must be realistic with my time and money. Oftentimes, sadly, processed foods are much cheaper. Happily, they are making less of an appearance in our home and meals.
I did eat Cheetos, ice cream, butter, fast food, even French Fries a handful of times. But I kept things in check. I didn't order the large fries or just eat Cheetos out of the bag. I measured out portions so I could make an accurate journal entry. I realized that oftentimes, one serving was plenty for me.
So, yeah. I didn't feel deprived. I don't feel like a slave to the food scale or label. I feel like it's liberated me.
Now, after measuring so often, I can eyeball portion sizes pretty accurately.
I find myself craving vegetables and fresh fruit more.
I'm not as tired in the afternoon. 2-3 p.m. used to be my low-energy, low-motivation and self-control time. It was the time of day I was most likely to eat processed junk food or candy for a pick-me-up.
Here's to the next 100 days!
Get motivated.
Tell other people (family and the blogosphere) I was planning to get in shape.
Eat healthier.
Exercise more.
Make goals so I know if I'm winning or losing.
I had no idea
I drank minimum of 8 glasses of water a day. In fact, there were probably only 2 days that I drank that little. Usually I drank 12-14 glasses. Sometimes I drank 16. Once I had 20.
I learned that I should keep my sodium intake below 2300 mg.
I ate my 5 a day fruits and vegetables. There were only a handful of days I didn't get enough.
I learned that I did NOT want to lose weight fast. My goal was to lose 1% of body weight per week to make sure I wasn't losing muscle and inhibiting my metabolism.
When things slowed down and I didn't seem to be losing even half a percent a week, I UPPED my calories and dropped the weight.
I averaged (while nursing an infant) 2200-2600 calories daily.
I didn't deprive myself. I learned about portion sizes. I discovered that if something was low-fat there was a good chance it was either high in sugar or sodium.
I tried to eat whole foods with less processing. But I am busy and a mother of 7 and therefore must be realistic with my time and money. Oftentimes, sadly, processed foods are much cheaper. Happily, they are making less of an appearance in our home and meals.
I did eat Cheetos, ice cream, butter, fast food, even French Fries a handful of times. But I kept things in check. I didn't order the large fries or just eat Cheetos out of the bag. I measured out portions so I could make an accurate journal entry. I realized that oftentimes, one serving was plenty for me.
So, yeah. I didn't feel deprived. I don't feel like a slave to the food scale or label. I feel like it's liberated me.
Now, after measuring so often, I can eyeball portion sizes pretty accurately.
I find myself craving vegetables and fresh fruit more.
I'm not as tired in the afternoon. 2-3 p.m. used to be my low-energy, low-motivation and self-control time. It was the time of day I was most likely to eat processed junk food or candy for a pick-me-up.
Here's to the next 100 days!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Right now in Pookieville
I have 30 bell peppers waiting to be diced and frozen,
5 cucumbers waiting to be chopped and eaten (Math),
a case of roma tomatoes waiting for me to can them,
a dozen butternut squash waiting for me to find out if they really are butternut squash and how to cook them,
and a dozen zucchini waiting to be sliced and dehydrated (science lesson).
I have one sleeping baby waiting to be rescued from her high chair,
two year old twins waiting to be potty-trained,
a four year old waiting to read me a story,
a six and almost eight year old playing at the playground,
a nine year old watching Rio (with the subtitles on) and waiting for lunch,
and a re-broken toe trying to heal. again.
What to do, what to do? I feel like spinning around in a circle and pointing and going with that first. What thinketh you?
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
A few trips: Lunch, eyes, and overseas
Today we are going on a lunchtime playdate at a secluded park on the way to town. It's a relatively short van trip there-- like 15 minutes. With just a little prep of sandwich making and flavor-blasted goldfish bagging whilst 7 happy children bounce around with glee (yeah! Goldfish! Friends!) we will have the makings of a fun memory-filled afternoon.
Next week Danny turns 35. I had the plannings in my head of a surprise get-together with friends. But he's going on a trip instead. He got pre-approved for laser eye surgery. So it's his turn to be gone for 2 weeks. His trip is about 5 1/2 hours by car.
Because we recently enrolled the oldest three kids in a charter program that teaches them Science, History, Art, and Music twice a week (and we homeschool the rest), we won't be going with Danny to his prep appointments, surgery, and post-op appointments.
We considered having him come home in-between some of the appointments-- but it's a 5 1/2 hour drive and gas prices are through the roof. We'll be making nightly calls to catch up with him.
And the long trip. Sometime between December and April, Danny will most likely be taking a very long trip. We knew in the back of our minds that this could be a possibility being Air Force and all, but I hoped it would never happen. And for this trip he'll be gone 6 months to a year. This time the travel will be by airplane.
We'll learn how use Skype to keep up with him and so he can see how much his babies grow while he's gone defending our freedom and serving our country.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
In which I throw proper grammar out the window and give a Hawaii update.
Flew four times with Peach. She's a good passenger. No ear problems or anything with take-off and landing.
Used approximately 27 tissues at my grandma's funerals. Yes, that's right. She had two funerals. What was extra sad was realizing after the first one, I was going to bawl again the next day. What was sad after the second was realizing she was being buried. officially.
I celebrated my 13th wedding anniversary this past Monday snorkeling at Shark's Cove in Hawaii. I wished Danny was there with me. But I had a good time once I got past the anxiety of sticking my face in the water and breathing in. phew. I regret I didn't bring one of those disposable under-water cameras.
My awesome photographer sister took bunches of pictures in front of the Laie, Hawaii temple. We (sisters and parents) got new headshots for blogs and Facebook. I don't do Facebook-- so you can see me here.
Weighed in this morning and found I've lost 20.2 lbs. so far!
Had a bad spell of vertigo for a couple days in Hawaii. I think it was exacerbated by the heat and humidity of Hawaii, flying in airplanes, and riding in the back seat with Peach while my dad drove us around the islands.
Got four mosquito bites. This is good for me. Usually I get dozens.
Had a good time with lots of family-- especially my cute nieces and nephews.
Miss the haupia pie from McDonalds and the Portuguese sausage, eggs, and rice breakfast they also serve. My thighs will be glad they don't serve it here though. ;)
So glad to be back in my own bed with California's reasonable humidity level. haha
Used approximately 27 tissues at my grandma's funerals. Yes, that's right. She had two funerals. What was extra sad was realizing after the first one, I was going to bawl again the next day. What was sad after the second was realizing she was being buried. officially.
I celebrated my 13th wedding anniversary this past Monday snorkeling at Shark's Cove in Hawaii. I wished Danny was there with me. But I had a good time once I got past the anxiety of sticking my face in the water and breathing in. phew. I regret I didn't bring one of those disposable under-water cameras.
My awesome photographer sister took bunches of pictures in front of the Laie, Hawaii temple. We (sisters and parents) got new headshots for blogs and Facebook. I don't do Facebook-- so you can see me here.
Had a bad spell of vertigo for a couple days in Hawaii. I think it was exacerbated by the heat and humidity of Hawaii, flying in airplanes, and riding in the back seat with Peach while my dad drove us around the islands.
Got four mosquito bites. This is good for me. Usually I get dozens.
Had a good time with lots of family-- especially my cute nieces and nephews.
Miss the haupia pie from McDonalds and the Portuguese sausage, eggs, and rice breakfast they also serve. My thighs will be glad they don't serve it here though. ;)
So glad to be back in my own bed with California's reasonable humidity level. haha
Sunday, July 31, 2011
In which I am grateful for what I know to be true
At 10 p.m. last night the phone rang. And I knew what it was. Danny paused the movie we were watching and answered the phone. I held my breath analyzing his side of the conversation. He seemed all business and yet solemn. But I knew.
My grandma passed away. She was the only grandma I ever knew. I hadn't seen her since my grandpa's funeral in 1999.
- Grandma would insist on putting vitamin E on my mosquito bites. She told me the mosquitos loved my sweet blood.
- Grandma would take her dentures out for the grandkids' pure amusement. I'm fairly certain she never glued them in.
- When Grandma came to visit, she'd do our laundry for us.
- I remember being amused at how loud Grandma could snore.
- I love how she affectionately called Grandpa, "Daddy."
- Grandma and I wrote letters to each other from about the time I got married (almost 13 years ago) until about 2 1/2 years ago when I was pregnant with the twins and stopped writing so often. She wrote on a legal pad with a black sharpie most of the time. Sometimes it was blue. Once it was red. On occasion she'd include recipes or newspaper stories in the letters.
- Grandma would tell me during every phone call how proud she was that I married a return missionary.
Just a week and a half ago, Danny and I talked about getting a plane ticket for me to go see Grandma one more time. Grandma never met Danny or any of my kids. But since Peach and I are joined at the hip, and Peach-aged folk fly free to Hawaii, it would be the two of us. That was the plan.
But it was too late.
I know she's happy with Grandpa again. I know she can see and she can walk. I know that families are forever and I will see her again one day. To her, it may seem like a short while, to me perhaps a lifetime.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
So help me, if you don't get better...
Darn you broken pinky toe. You're slowing me down! I have stuff to do!
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Dear Pinky Toe,
I took you for granted just hanging out there on the side of my foot thinking you were insignificant next to the bigger ones. I never understood your role in my balance and daily activities. I never knew how much I needed you. I had no idea how powerful you were until you turned my daily routine upside down and threw my plans out the window.
Please get better soon.
Yours TRULY,
Nikki
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)