Monday, August 07, 2006

Its monday again, now what?

There are few things that make you question your parenting skills than when you child is hurt, or ill. Nothing tests your resolve to stand behind your decisions, or makes you question every thing you have done up until that point.
Cam had a serious break out of hives on Wed night. From head to toe with a 103.3 fever, red welts proceeded to make our night and the next few following the most difficult possible. Not to mention she figured out how to say “it hurts mommy.” Which is heart wrenching in its self.
When  your baby is waiting for you to make it better, the doctor offices dufus’ “I don’t know what to tell you,” kind of makes you want to jump through the phone and choke the nurses assistant who’s nonchalant – “you must be one of those over protective moms whose kid lives in a bubble” tone was irking your very last nerve. “Can she breathe?” is not the kind of symptom I would be calling about, I would have her in a hospital if she couldn’t breathe genius. And it amazes me that her eyes are swollen shut, and her mouth is swollen, she hasn’t had anything at all new to eat or drink in weeks isn’t enough to warrant a emergency office visit, that is until the fever hasn’t broken in three days. Then they say hey – bring her on in! After her FATHER calls to use the bass in his voice to voice our discomfort with this scenario.  Our doctor is great but some days her staff makes me what to shake them, I wonder if they actually have kids. Or remember what it was like when they had their first one. Predictably the fever dropped to 99.3 on the day we actually got the doctor to see us.  So they are looking at me like – your so cute to overreact that way. Dude, so not cute. SO.NOT.CUTE.
And why is it when the dad calls with concerns people always take it way more serious than when mom calls?
In addition to our sick kid horror story, we went to a wedding for a friend we never see very often, Jerry said we should make an attempt to catch up to some of the people I was very good friends with before I found my way into his world. Sometimes I think we should and sometimes I don’t.
I take full responsibility for the lack of communication I’ve had with some of these people. Phones ring both ways, but a lot of times after spending an evening with someone you understand why you aren’t close anymore. People I detested, I know now, I disliked as a defense aid. The things we beefed on(disagreed on*) seem totally irrelevant, and I remember why I was friends with them in the beginning. But the bride was beautiful, and they both seemed so happy to be marrying the other, and that is a great thing to watch.
In addition to all of that, Jerry’s mom, is getting worse in her sickness. And we are going to have to take a much more active role in her daily life. How? we have no idea. But we’ll figure it out. In the mean time, I’m planning on working on our house hard core in the next sixty days. But I think I need a carpenter tutor. Someone who I can pay to do some work, and pay to show me how to do some things. I really want to be very involved with renovating our house. Anybody know anybody who is a contractor or a carpenter? Referrals are welcome and appreciated.

Anywho – been off and need to fill out the FMLA paperwork, and catch up on work.

* a few people have noted that they don’t get some of my alternate phrases, so anything I think may throw you for a hook, I’ll add a little definition for ya!

4 Comments:

Anonymous chelle said...

It so drives me crazy when doctors and the like do not listen to me like they do to my husband!!! It always happens!!! So lame!
How your baby girl is feeling back to normal!!!

12:15 AM  
Blogger Sherri said...

Your husband CALLS THE DOCTOR? WTF??? Where do you get that kind of training?

Thanks for visiting my blog. Love your header pix, BTW. Very inspiring.

9:56 AM  
Blogger CousinSarah said...

You are RIGHT about the doc sis. When J had the Roto virus a few years ago...i wanted to kill the doc. I mean he had vomited over 30 times in 4 or so hours and THEN they were like bring him in. Uh how bout no. When I tell you my baby is swollen...MAKE IT HAPPEN. that is why you get paid the big bucks. You knew you were gonna be on this kinda call shit when you PAID FOR SCHOOL to be a doc. MOVE YOUR ASS AND FIX MY BABY!!

Um hmmm.....feel you girl. Feel YOU!

3:57 PM  
Blogger Jaelithe said...

Oh, man, Isaac once swelled up and broke out in hives, and we had just fed him peanut butter for only like the second time ever a couple of hours before it happened (yes, I know they say these days to wait until the age of three to introduce peanuts for most kids, but because of his underweight-ness two different doctors had advised us to try it since it's such a great source of fat and protein).

I was so freaked I called 911 and got the EMTs to my house.

And they laughed at me when they got there. LAUGHED at me, while I was shaking with terror holding my swollen, crying child. They claimed they couldn't even tell his face was swollen. They kept saying, "What's wrong with him? He looks fine to me."

Because he's so skinny, with his face and arms all swelled up, I guess they thought all that swelling just looked like baby fat. Nevermind the HIVES, or the fact that he couldn't fully open his eyes.

I finally had to show them a photograph of him when he looked normal. They completely refused to take me seriously at first-- they acted like I was just being crazy and overprotective.

I am sure if my husband had been the one at home, they would have paid more attention . . .

Anyway, we eventually got him to an allergist, and it turned out he'd reacted to getting Lysol on his skin when he stole a paper towel from me while I was cleaning the sink, not to eating peanut butter. Thank heavens! It's a heck of a lot easier to keep him away from Lysol than it would be to keep him away from peanuts . . .

4:45 PM  

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