Blame It On The Frosting

Today after church, we went into the basement for social hour, as we do every Sunday. All the children play off to the side with whatever they find while the adults tend to be at the other end of the gathering room, eating and chatting.

I knew the wee ones were tired -- especially since they'd spent so much time with Grandma and Grandpa the past couple days (yep, Grandma and Grandpa who don't believe that sleep is important). I didn't realize quite how tired until I heard Mister Man crying because some little boy pinched him hard on the leg.

I told Mister Man to tell the boy not to pinch him and just move on. He did, but he was still a little snuffly. A little bit later, I happened to be looking up at him when I saw him wipe out. I strolled over to him, knowing that he'd probably be somewhat upset, as he's a bit of a delicate flower.

He was screaming. In fact, he was starting to throw up. Not a good sign, and I quickened my pace to him. He couldn't calm down, so Daddy took him outside with a cup in case he really started throwing up. Mommy doesn't do puke.

When he fell, there were no other kids near him. He didn't trip over anything. He wasn't turning or looking another way, he simply tripped over his own feet, from what I could see. Yep, that's my husband's child alright!

He finally calmed down, but his arm was still sore. My husband brushed it off, but I asked him if it just hurt or if it hurt when he moved his arm. Yeah, you guessed his answer, didn't you?

Bummer is that my parents were taking the wee ones to go see Peter Pan this afternoon and had already bought tickets. If his arm were broken, a couple of hours really won't make a difference. As long as I get him to the ER in a reasonable amount of time, no harm done. I asked him what he wanted to do, and he decided to suck it up and go see Peter Pan. Shocking, I know.

On the way to the car, his arm started hurting more, and he changed his mind. You know that's not good. I couldn't see any swelling, and it wasn't bruised, so I asked him again. And he changed his mind and decided to go to Peter Pan. So he went to Peter Pan.

And I just got back from three hours in the ER to find out that Mister Man has a broken growth plate in his elbow. We don't know what stage it is (apparently there are four?), but I have to call an orthopedist tomorrow to try to get an appointment to see him.

It was so sad when the X-ray techs had him turn his arm various ways and straighten it for the X-rays. It really hurt him, but you could see how brave he was trying to be. Completely heartbreaking... until he asked me why we had aprons on. And why they were heavy. And why X-rays couldn't penetrate lead. That's when I knew he was feeling at least a little back to normal.

Swimming is out for awhile, as is bike riding, etc. I think that's the part that he's most bummed about, and I can't blame him. He's going to school tomorrow, and he's going to start writing with his left hand. My husband and I always hoped that he'd be a lefty (we both are, as is Little Miss), and we may now get our wish. Be careful what you wish for!

Oh, and as we were walking out of the hospital, Mister Man turned to me and said, I guess I should have been a little more careful of that frosting from the St Patrick's Day cupcakes at church, huh, Mom? It was awfully slippery.

Oh. I guess he isn't that clumsy. He slid on frosting that some child had spilled in the food free area and hadn't cleaned up. I think I feel a little better!

The three visits to the ER for three different family members in just over three months? Not feeling so good about that, however.

Don't Use A Bigger Tool Than You Need

Have you noticed that today's post came out much later than a normal Friday post? Yeah... me, too. Wanna know why?

Basically, I'm a moron. And I'm ok with admitting that.

I was making some guacamole for lunch today (see, I told you I've been making it a lot), and for whatever reason, I was using a chef's knife. To remove the pit from the avocado, you ram the knife into the pit and twist. The pit pops out clean, and ta-da, you're done.

But if you use a chef's knife, it's really sharp. And it goes deeply enough into the pit and is still sharp enough that when you twist, frequently you just tear off part of the pit instead of popping it out. I know this from experience -- previous experience even.

Today though, I stuck the knife into the pit and twisted. It broke off the pit. Twice. The third time, I was talking to the wee ones explaining how to make guacamole when I slammed the knife into the pit for the third time. And "into" the pit might be a bit of a misnomer. I sorta sliced off a portion of the pit. And the knife kept going. Right into my thumb.

Regrettably, I don't have a picture of the injury. I wasn't thinking quite that clearly (and I hear that huge sigh of relief, people!).

I did, however, have the presence of mind to put down the knife, poke at the wound to see if it would bleed and then make a beeline for the kitchen sink and blood welled up in and around the wound. The drip, drip, drip of the blood into the sink convinced me that it wasn't a good idea to go upstairs on the light beige carpet myself in search of a Band-Aid, so I sent Mister Man instead.

My good helper! At first he couldn't find a Band-Aid, but he persevered. He was such a helper, that he insisted that he open the Band-Aid for me. Except that he doesn't know how to open it from the top, so he tried to open it by tearing little holes in the sides. As he was walking down the stairs. Slowly walking down the stairs.

Fortunately, I put the Band-Aid on and the bleeding stopped. I then finished the guacamole and ate it, put the wee ones to bed and went to a playdate. My thumb hurt some, but what do you expect?

At the playdate, I bumped my thumb on a car and blood started pouring out from under the Band-Aid. I replaced it and we went home. Where I then started googling "when to get stitches."

I headed to the ER. Because, you know, I haven't been there often enough lately.

Shockingly, in the four below zero weather, the ER was pretty quiet. I was seen almost immediately. And they agreed that I needed stitches.

Bummer! I haven't had stitches since I was two years old and sliced open my finger scraping tomato paste out of a can with my finger (don't ask). But I'm game. I have no fear of blood or needles, so sewing my hand should be easy!

The irrigation part confirmed my confidence level. It hurt just a little bit, but no biggie.

Then the doctor came in. He had a large needle. Apparently they needed to numb the area. I looked at my hand and tried to figure out where they were going to inject it. All my theories were dashed when he started injecting it right at my knuckle. I watched as a whole lotta numbing stuff started to make my thumb swell out unnaturally to where it looked like a second thumb was growing. Then he moved it to another spot and kept injecting. I had to look at away, as that was just creeping me out.

Then he used his little fishhook to start sewing me up. OUCH! As I started squirming, the doctor asked if I could still feel it. Ummm yeah! He reassured me that he'd hold off and we'd finish up in a few minutes when the numbing agent set in.

Then he proceeded to finish pushing his fishhook through my skin. He pulled the thread through. Then the started tying knots. Ow! Ouch! OWWWWW! When he finished that suture, he walked out until the numbing agent took effect.

When he came back,he poked me with the needle a few time before starting. Good to go! We got the last two sutures in with no issues, and I was ready to go home.

Except now I need to go to the doctor on Monday. Bummer. And I can't get my hand wet until after my wound check. I can't wait to see how I figured that out.

So the next time you try to pit an avocado, use a smaller knife. A chef's knife really isn't necessary. I promise.

How To Survive An ER Visit

If you're a parent, you've inevitably already been or will be (again) to the ER with a child. It's one of those facts of life, but one that your child gets to teach you rather than the other way around.

When you go to the ER, it's never a simple, easy visit. There's always something that goes wrong, the wait is longer than you can understand, and then there are those horror stories you hear about....

In an effort to keep your sanity, I've compiled the following list of things to bring with you to the ER outside the obvious ones like your sick or injured child (SOIC), insurance card and a huge measure of patience.

1) A large bladder and/or a non-sick person. The ER visit is never a quick one, and the last thing you want to do is to try to find a bathroom and drag the SOIC with you. We actually brought both this time around. That, of course, explains why my husband called me while I was registering Little Miss with the ER department to ask how much longer I was going to be so he could go to the bathroom.

2) Dinner. Yes, you will be waiting for a long time. The last thing I want or need is to be eating out of the overpriced, calorie-laden vending machines. Friday, I scooped up the leftovers I was planning to eat for dinner and put them in my backpack and ate them throughout the evening. Much more satisfying than the alternative.

3) A portable DVD player and DVDs. While we ended up with eight DVD options for (expected) three day hospital stay, Little Miss watched only two. And really only one and a quarter. I think even I now have the Peter Pan movie memorized. But when the alternative is having your child run around like a banshee (not that we saw multiple unsupervised children doing this) or watching the Family Guy (uhhh, no), the DVD player is hugely helpful in distracting the SOIC during the wait.

4) Pajamas and a Pull-Up. Little Miss is potty trained, but we still brought Pull-Ups for her. Once we were back in the ER room, we changed her into the Pull-Up and some pj bottoms in addition to her hospital gown. This meant she was free to doze on and off and we didnt't have to worry about getting her to a potty on time, which is hard enough with a SOIC. Note: If your child has explosive diarrhea or suspected rotovirus, skip the pj bottoms.

5) The favorite stuffed animal and special blankets. Little Miss didn't want to bring these, partly because I hadn't let her bring them into the pediatrician's office earlier on Friday because I didn't want to get more germs on them. In the hospital, though, you're in your own room that's more sanitized (go with me here). Plus, these comforts help when it's time to sleep or when the SOIC needs comforting.

7) A coloring book and/or Play Doh. If you're like me, DVDs only last so long. These other items are great because if you need to toss them after your stay because they got dirty or gross or otherwise germy, no worries. They're cheap and meant to be somewhat disposable. No comment on how often they've been used by Little Miss so far....

8) A laptop and power cord. Many hospitals are now wireless (as is the one we're in now). Just because your SOIC is sleeping or otherwise occupied doesn't mean you need to be bored. With your computer, you can entertain yourself for hours! Plus, you don't need a light on to use your laptop when your SOIC has gone to sleep.

9) Magazines. When you'e somewhere that isn't convenient to use the laptop, or if the internet connection goes down at the hospital, you need something to read. If you're like me, you don't want to read a book in a hospital and then bring it (and all the new germs) home. Bonus: when you bring both book and laptop, the laptop screen can act as a mini-light when your SOIC needs darkness to sleep.

10) A fifth. When your SOIC starts screaming that he wants to go home and wants to know when it's time to leave, or when the IV stick isn't working and you're on the third stick of the second hand, or when the SOIC screams Mommy! Mommy! when you're sitting right there holding her and she can't open her eyes long enough to see you and process this, you need to reach into that handy dandy backpack and grab a fifth. While a real fifth would be nice, the hospital might frown upon it, so think of it as a fifth of patience. That deep down place where mommies somehow find a way to battle through and survive.

Here's hoping you don't go to the ER anytime soon. And if you do have to go, maybe this list will make things a little easier for you. Oops, I almost forgot: cell phone charger, too. No comment from me on this one, but I know exactly how many beeps before my cell loses power now.

Oh How Quickly It Turns

At ten this morning, my phone rang. On the other end was the nurse from Little Miss's preschool -- mind you, for the second day in a row calling. Yesterday, she wanted to know if she could put lotion on Little Miss's chapped hands.

Today, she wanted to know if I'd given Little Miss any cough medicine, as she was sent to the nurse's office for coughing and the nurse noticed she had a rapid heartbeat (I've since learned that I need to know how many beats that means). Fortunately, she had no fever, and the nurse didn't feel I needed to do anything at that point (read: don't leave my planned morning and pick her up from school).

When her bus pulled up, I noticed the girl in front sleeping and started to make a comment to the bus driver about other kids getting their naps on the bus but that Little Miss never falls asleep. I stopped when the bus driver showed me my sleeping girl. Hmm. I brought her inside to sit down for lunch, but she wanted no lunch and just wanted to go take her nap. Uh-oh.

A little before 2:30, she woke up whining that she didn't feel good. She never says she isn't feeling good. I gave her a hug and realized she was warm. Yep, fever of 102.2. And I noticed she was breathing rapidly and had some retracted breathing going on, too. I sighed and called the doctor who got me in at 3.

It's never a good sign when the doctor listen's to your child's chest for a loooong time. And then puts on the pulse-ox reader and sighs, saying, "That's what I was afraid of." Yes, we've been down this road before. It involved a trip to the ER at 5pm after an early afternoon doctor's appointment. Oh, and her fever was now 103.3, up over a degree in less than an hour.

He gave her a breathing treatment around 3:30, and yes, we have the nebulizer at home for future treatments. She responded well, and we decided not to send her to the hospital for a chest X-ray and monitoring. We went home with a prescription for Omnicef (since she's allergic to Amoxicillan) to treat what he strongly suspected was pneumonia.

By 5:20, she was back to the retracted and labored, fast breathing. And her fever was back at 103.7. I made the obligatory call to the doctor on call, already knowing what she was going to tell me.

I'm currently writing this from the ER room she's sitting in (isn't technology nice? The whole hospital here is wireless!) as she's being monitored. Her fever went up to 104.8 when they brought her into a room. Fortunately, her chest X-Ray was clear, but last time it was clear on Day One and mucky as all get out the next day. They took her oxygen level while we were waiting for a room to open up, and it was low enough that they put her on oxygen while we waited. Wheee!

As an aside, before you decide to go to an ER, check to see whether it's a full moon. Tonight is a full moon, in case you're wondering. And the place is packed. With lots of nut jobs (although folks who groaned ohhh nooooo when they saw us walk up to the only empty couch that happened to be somewhat in their vicinity, was that really necessary?). And little parent supervision.

Anyway, she has responded again somewhat to the second breathing treatment, and they haven't given her any steroids as yet -- although they just as well may have since she hasn't closed her eyes yet after she had her nose violently swabbed by a nurse as she was sound asleep. Oxygen level is at 94% which isn't great, and we can't get her pulse below about 160, so it's looking likely that she'll be admitted. That, by the way is down significantly from the 209 she spiked at while we were here. I'm already planning to spend the night here with her, poor kiddo. We'll know in an hour.

On the plus side, both the wee ones were scheduled to spend the night with my parents tonight because my husband has a Scholastic Bowl tournament tomorrow morning where he's leaving by 6:30 and won't be home until evening. And I have choir practice at 10am. And a cookie exchange I am (I mean, I was) hosting. So Mister Man is at my parents' house, and they are unaware of the recent change in plans. Shockingly, Little Miss completely understood that Mister Man was still spending the night at Grandma and Grandpa's house and she wasn't. Then again, that tells you how sick she is, doesn't it?

On the downside, I'm totally on my own tomorrow. I'm hoping that we're able to be released, but even if we are, I need to wake up every three hours to give her a breathing treatment round the clock for the next few days. And Monday going to school is looking less and less likely, which is a problem for me and work - home of thirteen percent cuts in my department on Thursday.

Murphy's Law I've become intimately reacquainted with: once you fall asleep, someone must bother you within two minutes of fall asleep, regardless of how long you were left alone before then. This has happened to us: before she went to see the triage nurse, when she had to get her chest X-ray, when they brought her back to her room, when they did her nose swab, and again when the doctor came to check on her levels just a few moments ago. Fortunately, Mommy rocks at getting her to sleep (Daddy failed miserably in his lone attempt, although it was entertaining for me to watch).

Oh, and today's afternoon plans of making next year's calendars for my family? And downloading the last month's pictures from my camera? And maybe trying to find a picture to send out with our Christmas cards? Yeah... those plans were sorta shot. Maybe I'll celebrate Groundhog Day instead of Christmas this year!



PS As of yesterday afternoon, Mister Man has also lost his only pair of winter boots (see Monday's post).

I Forgot To Invent That Rule...

The morning started out normally enough, today.

Mister Man woke up and went to the bathroom and got himself dressed. Not fully matching and all, but who am I to quibble? Today, it was all right side out and front facing, which is not always the case. For some reason, wearing clothes backwards and inside out absolutely cracks him up. It’s taken me awhile to convince him that wearing underwear backwards is just not a good idea.

Little Miss had taken off all Baby Coco’s clothes and was now trying to put them back on. Since the diaper had to go on first and Baby Coco is not exactly the most flexible doll, that meant it was my job to get her dressed again before Little Miss could go potty, change her diaper (she likes to use the potty … but only when she wants to so we’re still in diapers) and get her dressed.

At breakfast, they both wanted waffles, which is pretty typical. And of course, Little Miss wanted to put them in the toaster, so the chair was pulled over to the toaster in anticipation of Mommy handing over the precious frozen disks.

Both of them ate their breakfasts well and even drank their milk without any reminders. Then Little Miss decided she was still hungry. We decided on Goji berries. I’m not a fan of them, so they’ve been in the house awhile – they’re dried, relax. For some reason, she likes them. She got a small handful added to her plate.

About that time, Mister Man asked for some more milk, so I got up to get that for him. As I came back, Little Miss had a bit of a sneezing fit. I noticed that Little Miss was wiping her nose afterwards. Easy solution: I got a Kleenex for her and handed that over. Little Miss Independent doesn’t like help if it’s something she can do for herself, after all.

As I sat down to try to eat my granola and yogurt, she started fussing and pulling at her nose. I asked her what was wrong and she whined something unintelligible. I asked her to repeat herself so I could understand, at which point she burst into tears. I picked her up, sang Lullaby and got her calmed down. I asked again and she said her nose hurt.

I took a look, and I could see a dried up bit of snot in there. I tried to get it with a fingernail – oh the things moms will do, and don’t try to tell me you’ve never done the same. It didn’t come out, so I looked more closely. It wasn’t snot. It was a Goji berry. Oh so calmly, I asked Little Miss if she’d put a Goji berry in her nose. Sniffling (egads – don’t sniffle!), she nodded. I asked her how many Goji berries she put in her nose. I was pretty sure the answer was one.

I tried using my fingers like a pincer to get it out, but that wasn’t happening. Mister Man by that point was hopping up and down out of his chair telling me that Little Miss was in so much trouble!

As I looked at the clock and realized that Mister Man’s bus was going to be coming in the next ten minutes and I then had to get Little Miss to preschool and had a call starting at 9am (which I call into as I’m walking out of preschool, of course), I calculated how bad the situation would have to be before I’d need to go to the ER.

This is quite obviously not my first run in with a potential ER situation. When Mister Man was 17 months, he had rotovirus and was hospitalized for four days. Last May, Little Miss had pneumonia and we were in the hospital for about 8 hours one night before her oxygenation improved enough to go home. And in February, Little Miss had RSV where we also spent some time in the ER getting her stabilized. But a Goji berry? C’mon!

I’ve heard stories of people who’ve had to go to the ER to get M&Ms and other goodies out of their noses. In fact, I’ve heard of kids who’ve tried to get it out (or maybe their moms had tried to get them out) and instead pushed them up far enough that surgery was required. Well, surgery definitely wasn’t on my agenda for today.

I debated briefly what to do, as I started the lecture to both of them about not putting anything in their noses, not even their fingers. Luckily, I’ve given the finger part of that lecture often enough that I can recite it while my brain searches for alternate solutions.

What would they do if they were in the ER? I pondered this briefly before I realized that, of course, in the ER the first step would be to try to use a pair of tweezers to get the item out. We have a pair of tweezers! I ran upstairs to get them, while warning Little Miss not to move a finger.

Now, anyone who’s ever played the board game Operation with me growing up is probably groaning about now. I was horrid at the game. I don’t think I ever won a single game of it, and rarely did I get a bone out without buzzing the edges.

However, I’m now a mom, and moms have super powers after all. I laid Little Miss down on the surgical operating table (my couch) and told her to stay still. I told her this might hurt but that I’d try to be gentle and that it would be easier for both of us if she wouldn’t move. Fortunately, this is also the girl who sits perfectly still when getting a flu shot in her thigh.

I took a deep breath and started the procedure. The first try I slipped and pushed it back a bit more. Whoops. Now the ER was looking more likely. I tried again, and this time I was able to grasp it. It slipped off the tweezers before I got it out, but the third try’s the charm! Goji berry removed!

I held the Goji berry out to show Little Miss.

Me: Do you see what was in your nose?
Little Miss: Yes.
Me: Do you know now not to ever … EWWWW!

Little Miss had chosen that moment to grab the Goji berry from my unsuspecting hand and popped it in her mouth. Apparently she was just marinating it. Once I stopped gagging, I was able to finish my lecture. Both kids have promised to never put anything inside their noses again. Here’s hoping they keep that promise, because I do not want to do that again.

And the kicker? Little Miss was so proud, she couldn’t wait to tell everyone at preschool about the Goji berry she stuck up her nose. Oh yeah, and how she was never going to do that again. The only response I could give was to shrug and explain what a Goji berry was. That didn’t really help the odd looks, but I can’t have been the only mom with a child sticking something up her nose!