Entries Tagged 'gratitude' ↓

It started out like most other evenings where Tim is heading into nights. I try to get the kids settled a little early to make up for whatever else comes our way. With three little kids, it’s always something nightmares, growing pains, or just “I’m thirsty!” I plopped all three kids in the tub. Other than a little eye goo Ellie was fine. I was giving her 24 hours to get over it on her own before I pestered our doctor. Ellie happily sat in the tub playing with her big brothers and I started to clean up the kitchen and put away laundry, usual stuff. I wander in and out of the bathroom, they play and soak off most of the kid grime. 

Ellie started crying, so I picked her up and put her in the shower for a quick soap bubble rinse off. I admit it, I yelled at the boys from dripping water from one end of the bathroom to the other getting extra washcloths. (They pretend they are seals).  I started drying Ellie off when I noticed she was a strange color, kind of purplish, as though she were freezing cold even though I had just pulled her from a warm shower. I wrapped the towel around her and took her to her room where I sat down to rock her and warm her up before putting her clothes on.  She had stopped fussing and was nodding off. I don’t know how to explain that this just isn’t something my kids do. Even when exhausted by a long day of play they still look at books or play with toys for a long time before settling down for the night. They don’t nod off. Ever.

This is when I began to get scared. I put her diaper on and some warm pjs since she still seemed chilled. She wasn’t rousing and that’s when I paid attention to her breathing, it was shallow and she paused between breaths. I called my mom. I thought I might be overreacting, but she agreed with my desire to take her to the ER. I had begun to wonder if maybe she had been knocked over in the tub. I began to be scared she was drowning in front of me, even though her color was better. I called Tim while I finished getting everyone ready to head out the door.

I loaded all the kids and headed toward the Moncks Corner Trident. I don’t particularly care for that place, but sometimes you take the closest option.

She wouldn’t wake up. I drove with one hand behind me,, shaking and tickling her foot, “Ellie, Ellie, stay awake. Talk to mama. Please? Aidan, tell me if her eyes are open.”

Aidan, “They’re shut, Mama.”

Cue other child dramatics, Mark unlocks and opens one of the rear doors. Tim had taken one of the carseats on accident and frankly, I just wasn’t going to quibble over 2 inches when the baby couldn’t breathe. Ellie was in Mark’s seat and Mark was strapped in the booster which must give him more freedom than the standard seat.

Eventually we arrive, she’s still doing the shallow breaths with long pauses and doesn’t want to come around. Her eyes would open for a few seconds, not really focusing and then she’d fall back asleep. This ER has a security guard that helps out with admin. I thought filling out the form with trouble breathing, poor color, unusually sleepy might move things along. No.

I was sent to the waiting area where the boys pushed the limits, knowing I was distracted and while I’m sorry they were being obnoxious, I couldn’t really care at that moment. I was trying to get Ellie to stay awake, trying to get her to do anything other than lie limply in my arms. My mother arrived to help with the boys before I was called to fill out paperwork. I was waffling in that grey area, not knowing if I needed to cause a scene. Eventually we were called to the admin desk and as soon as they had the insurance information (which this order of events pisses me off) we were taken into triage.

The male nurse began to take Ellie’s vitals and he quickly became very concerned, as she didn’t want to rouse for him, either. Her temperature at that point was 99, which didn’t say much. I think we were both operating under the idea that something had to have happened in the tub, since I couldn’t officially rule it out. There was some discussion in the hallway that I could half hear, about where to put Ellie, my nurse won and we were headed for Room 1, where we would spend the next six hours. They took her temperature again and this time it was 103.5. I don’t think I have ever been reassured by a fever before

Blood draws, strep tests, flu tests, chest x-rays, urine cultures all followed in rapid succession and she only came around for the worst of each procedure. When the IV was put in I sent my keys with someone to give to my mom so she could take the boys out for ice cream rather than annoying the entire waiting room. Some tests and observations came back, no pneumonia, no UTI, but she did have strep and the doctor believes she also has the flu, but because everything happened so quickly she wasn’t carrying enough of a viral load to show up on the swab. They began to administer antibiotics via IV for the strep and Ellie and I settled in for the wait and the inevitable insurance argument. Cigna Health Insurance, if you are monitoring your Google Alerts, have your damn customer service line open for emergencies. To not have someone on is ridiculous and lead to unnecessary stress and frustration trying to convince the admin lady that we have an FSA and yes, you got poor reviews on the follow up survey.

Around 11 the doctor ordered another blood test to check her white count, which had risen. Even though Ellie had perked up some, the doctor wanted to perform a spinal tap to rule out meningitis. 

I sent my mom home with the boys.

I can handle needles and blood, but I chickened out of staying in the room for the spinal tap.  I stood in the hallway and prayed. The fluid looked clear and the preliminary tests showed no infection. At 2 am we were released to go home with antibiotic prescriptions and strict orders to follow up with our family doctor.

We still have no idea why she had trouble breathing. It’ll be a while before I’m comfortable leaving her, since it came on so fast. It’s Tuesday morning and she has the sparkle back in her eyes. She’s not up to full speed, but she’s on her way.

I have a faint memory of peering through the windows in my second grade classroom and watching snow fall, it must have been 1986. Three years later we woke to snow for Christmas. I remember on other occasions watching the thermometer, hoping and praying for snow. There was an ice storm that froze the pines bending them into unnatural poses and snapping limbs.

In 1999 I moved to St. Paul, I eagerly anticipated that first snow. I later attended my first sledding party in jeans and thin leather boots and cried on the way home as my feet slowly and painfully thawed. My second winter someone was kind enough to educate me on the joy of thermal underwear. It may not be sexy, but it has an appeal of another kind.

April 15, 2002 I cried and cursed the four inches of snow on the ground and in March of 2004 I watched Spring in fastforward as we drove 1200 miles with all of our possessions to settle in this warmer land.

Today heavy clouds hang low and the local news is abuzz with the possibility of flurries. As for me, I’m just thankful if it does snow it won’t linger.

I just wanted to post and let everyone know we are OK and did not suffer any damage in last night’s storm.

At this very moment, these are the things I’m thankful for.

• Health.
• Friends who get excited about the same things as me – Jared, Eugene, and Jason
• Authors who can take me so far from here and now. Charles de Lint, Robin McKinley, and Terry Pratchett
• Tulip trees in bloom.
• A little boy, who experiences a brief, first taste of freedom outside alone and brings in a handful of “pretty flowers” for me.
• The companionship of this coming summer.

Hopefully this will be the last of my navel gazing posts; although at this point it is an interesting blend of deep blues fading to green and sickly yellow.

Last night I was lying in bed attempting to fall asleep. Notice I said attempting to fall asleep, as in I did not crash into bed exhausted. I have not had an evening where I was wide awake an energized in a very long time.  I suspect it may have even been before becoming pregnant with Mark. That is a long, long time to be tired.   I haven’t always had bone deep exhaustion, there have been brief periods of respite, but they have been short in duration over the past two years.

As I thought about the book I had been reading I was struck with the realization that my thoughts were clearer and sharper than they have been in a long time.  Have you ever cleaned a long neglected windshield and been amazed with the renewed clarity?  This was internal, but no less striking.  I am amazed and very, very thankful.

I may or may not be back over the next few days.  If not, I want to wish everyone a merry Christmas.

I know things have been quiet, but how much can I write about the grocery store, the never ending cookie project, and  trying to make WordPress cooperate as I work to organize Home Ec 101.

Speaking of the grocery store, yesterday I jokingly chastised a familiar looking man for not saying hello, only to realize he was not who I thought.  Subsequently I had to face him on each and every aisle, even after breaking the accepted pattern.  By doing so, he knew I was attempting to avoid further contact, yet he insisted on pulling in behind me in the check out line.  Doesn’t he know when someone apologizes for a mild social blunder they should be left alone?  This is not time for further chatter.  This continued into the parking lot and the returning of carts.

Apparently having ham hocks in the cart calls for a closer inspection of contents.  My years in Minnesota gave me a great appreciation for the ability to buy a bottle of wine at the grocery store.  Occasionally I buy a bottle just because I can, a small celebration of life’s pleasures.  I hated going to the sketchy liquor store and was to cheap for the other one.  Perhaps that was the cause of the eyebrow raising.  My pants were zipped and nothing was in my teeth; I checked.

It is a day for naps.  There are beans simmering on the stove, with a mess of collards waiting to be fixed.  The sky is grey and the tree in the corner is quietly shining sparkles of white light beneath strands of cranberries and stars of gold. Tomorrow begins the holiday, but I’m happy in this moment. These are the good old days and I’m thankful to be aware.

Thank you all for being a part of my life.

A quiet house.

A glass of wine.

A total blank.

A hundred things have irked me in the past week.

A hundred more have made me grin.

I’m becoming comfortable in myself.  It is a process, a sloughing off of the old perception and occasional feelings of amazement as I catch glimpses of my reflection.   It certainly isn’t all pretty, there are stretchmarks, scars, and wounded feelings, but this person stands a little straighter and her jaw is set a little firmer.   I think I like her and I hope she stays for awhile.

My car is dying.  It has well over one hundred fifty thousand miles on it, but it’s still depressing.  It’s not a two hundred dollar rattle I’m hearing, it’s a four thousand dollar engine knock.

I had to pull over six times on the way home from my mom’s yesterday.

We’re going to replace the engine, the rest of the car is fine and it’s the most cost effective choice.  I would love to have something more gas efficient, but with three car seats for the next however many years, it’s not in the cars.  I swear they are going to keep kids in car seats until they can get their permits.  What a pain in the butt.

On a very good note, I found my wedding ring.  It had been missing for about six months after a certain grubby child swiped it off the bathroom counter while I was in the shower.  Said child must have crawled into my bed to play with it where it fell behind the mattresses and into the crevice between the carpet and the wall.