Sunday, October 30, 2016

Ok, I am seriously back...

Life has changed a bit since I was here last.

Things are still pretty great, despite everything. I am using the blog as a cathartic exercise, because things can just get overwhelming.

A few positive things - we are all in fairly good health (I have some nonsense going on - surprise surprise - but that got put on the back burner due to everything else).

In July, we had a discussion with our daycare provider about Nadia, and we were referred to a group with the school district for some observation. Her language is significantly delayed; she has not interacted with other students; she shows compassion and emotion, followed by moments of being "flat"; when we call her name, she snaps "What", like we are breaking her out of a trance; and some of her play isn't "imaginative" in the traditional sense - she tinkers, lines up toys, focuses on blocks and puzzles.

Halfway through the observation, the school psychologist pulled me aside and had me fill out additional assessments testing for Autism. I had an inkling that this is the direction we were headed; however, I didn't go there until I had to.

Now, I had to. I was by myself, and fought tears. I failed at moments, only to be encouraged by the other parents. The staff was amazing, knowing what we were going through. We met with the Special Education team in charge of her observation two weeks later, received an IEP, and agreed to send her to the school district for a contained-classroom pre-k. She will have multiple teachers; we will work on her skills at home. She will still be in daycare (which is thankfully next door) in the morning and afternoon until we can pick her up. She will need to ride the bus still (by law), and that is a source of anxiety for us.

The whole thing is a a point of stress, anxiety, and complete unknown. Research has been done; everything is changing. We are working on a new diet; we are going to go to the Pediatrician so we can test for allergies or other medical issues that we are unaware of; and we are looking to get her into the new Autism Center through my employer to get her the medical care that she may need. She will have a Speech Therapist at her pre-k, and we will determine if she needs additional outside Speech Therapy.

The things that are keeping me sane are work and my PhD classes. It allows me to focus on the things I can control versus the things I cannot. It gives me an escape. Am I burying feelings? Absolutely. I can't face it right now. I am moving forward full speed ahead so I can deal with it on my own terms. I want a staycation with Michael, away from the normal everyday life, so I can melt down a little.

I struggled today. I am nervous for her, yet I know she will see it as an adventure. I worry because I am afraid she is not going to understand. I worry that she won't make friends (though I really don't think she cares right now).

Despite the lack of communicative language, I can tell that she is remarkable. In some areas, she excels. We are working on focusing on that when she has a meltdown in the middle of a pumpkin patch, restaurant, mall, or store. I am working on finding a way to move to her level and help her through it.

And truthfully, those who give dirty looks or throw judgement my way during her difficult moments can go to hell. I don't have time for negativity, and she sure as hell doesn't have to answer to anyone.

I am overwhelmed, but relieved. We are beyond blessed to live in a country that there are services for her. I hope, beyond hope, that she receives the attention and resources she needs. I will be her advocate, no matter what.

I am not perfect, but I will be there for her, no matter what.

Thursday, May 28, 2015

Aaaand I'm Back!

It's been too long my friends!  So it's been almost two years since my last post, and that, frankly, is unacceptable. Brief update, and we will get back to the sass parade:

1. Could have died 8 days after my last post - I'll tell you the story if you want

2. Life is hard with 2 kids

3. I started a new job (YES!)

4. I love said new job (YES AGAIN!)

5. I still like that guy I married (always a positive thing)

6. We now have 2 dogs (doggie potty training sucks

7. Kid #1 is 5, Kid #2 will be 2 soon

Aaaand that's it. The end on the catch up.

One other HUGE thing - I am in the process of training for a Tough Mudder. I know...what is this nonsense you ask? I thought it was some sort of bogus bullshit that people did to show how strong they were, but this ain't no Spartan Run. I had the opportunity to go to California with some amazing students and staff to watch them participate as a team - and I was BEYOND inspired. Here are some pictures from the journey:

This 10 mile obstacle course is meant to challenge you mentally and physically. I saw injuries and triumphs, but the most outstanding thing I witnessed was a blind man cross the finish line with his team. He completed the whole thing.

In what world is it ok for me to sit back and do nothing with my health when this man can overcome those odds?  

One the way home on the bus, a number of students asked me if I was going to do it in October when the event came to Las Vegas. I politely said "Maybe in a couple of years".

I went home and this blind man (his name was Randy) kept coming to my mind. If he can do it - why can't I? I threw myself into the fray and publicly announced I would run the event with the Honors Rebellion on October 17th.

Expensive? Yes. Stupid? Probably. Awesome? Hell yeah.

I have slowly been working up to improving my running (which I have not done in quite some time, obviously), my nutrition, and upper body strength. I am working through yoga, the treadmill, pool, and P90X (when I can). 

My philosophy is this: Even if I walk the whole thing and only do a couple of obstacles, that is more than I did before. Even if I have to do one every year to get better and better, I will do it.

I have not had this kind of determination since, well, probably a long time. I can't remember shit. But I do know this - I am dedicated to it. I want it. I want that stupid orange headband. I want to do it again next year. I want to work for it and get it. The only thing in my way is me.

So get outta the way, Hullinger. Get it together.

Today's personal records:  

1 mile: 16:46
2 miles: 33:34

I will update when I can, but the blog will still just mostly stick with funny noise that happens in my life. I've missed the sass parade.


Thursday, August 1, 2013

The Last Few Weeks & Nadia's Arrival

Let me preface this post by saying that it isn't overly graphic for the general population, but it is a birth story, so if you get squeamish, maybe it's not the best post to read.  However, it's witty, so that may make up for anything that you may deem unnecessary or gross.  Sorry about that.  It's also super long, so I hope you get some food in you or else you might starve.

To give a little bit of background, this pregnancy was not easy for me, but in different ways than Naomi's pregnancy.  The good things about this time around is that I had no swelling, great blood pressure, and hardly any morning sickness (at least compared to Naomi's pregnancy - shiver).  The not so good things included low progesterone and almost losing the pregnancy at 7 weeks; Subchorionic Hemorrhage at 12 weeks; low amniotic fluid at 20 weeks; a 3 day hospital stay at 26-ish weeks for kidney issues; and lack of fetal movement at 32 weeks, which led to many additional doctor's appointments and stress.

At 34 weeks, I saw my OB, who measured my expanding middle section and just said "I would like to get a growth scan on you".  Um, ok.  Apparently, I was measuring 4 weeks ahead - yay!  She was about 7 lbs at 35 weeks, which meant I had to continue the monitoring (I had tried to get out of it, because I was feeling her move around more).

I stopped work on Wednesday, July 10, just 2 days shy of my goal.  That's pretty good compared to last time, where I had to take a whole month of prior to delivery due to modified bed rest.  I was, however, put on modified bed rest on Thursday, July 11, so the timing just worked out in that respect.

Naomi got this weird stomach bug that lasted about 7 hours on Saturday, then she was fine - no fever, and then symptoms went away about as fast as they arrived.  We thought we avoided bad news for the rest of us, but on Monday (July 15), I started feeling horrible.

Now, I had been having false labor (Prodromal Labor) for weeks.  This means I was having contractions that lasted 3-5 hours, anywhere from 6-12 minutes apart, for about 1 minute each.  It would be there, and suddenly sputter out.  It was irritating at first, but then it started to take a toll on my body (physically and mentally).  On that Monday, I came down with what Naomi had, which kick started what I thought was labor (though it was able to be stopped with fluids).

Since we thought it was the real deal, we quickly dropped Naomi and Roxie off at various locations, and headed to the hospital.  They monitored my stats, and my OB happened to be there.  He said that my contractions weren't close enough together, and they sent us home with the instructions to come back if it got worse.  3 hours later, we were back, I got fluids, and they were monitoring Nadia a little more closely.

During this monitoring, they discovered that Nadia's heartbeat was way too fast for too long (tachycardia), so they decided to keep me.  Additionally, once her heart rate got into the "normal" zone again, she started decelerating (meaning her heart rate dipped too low during contractions).  This led the doctor to believe that she was in distress, and told us that if it doesn't improve, then we will have to deliver.  This was on July 16.

Luckily, her heart got back into tip-top shape and we were able to go home without a super scary induction or c-section that I had no choice over.  My whole thing is that I wanted to make the decision for myself, and for things to not move so fast that I couldn't wrap my brain around it in time.

My parents came out that Wednesday (July 17) in case we had to deliver.   They helped us home, and I continued to get monitored on Thursday (July 18), Friday (July 19), and Tuesday (July 23).

By this time, my body (and mind) was done.  My original due date was July 31, and the doctor had told me that with the complications I had, he wouldn't want me to go beyond 41 weeks (August 7).  I told him if I didn't have her by 7/31, we would evict her.  We had this conversation on July 18.

By the time Tuesday, July 23 hopped around, I was so mentally and physically drained that I knew that I would not be able to give birth without major problems if we waited any longer.  I called the doctor and asked if we could induce on July 24.  This was not a decision we came to lightly, and understood the risks involved.  My doctor was very supportive, considering the problems that we had, but he didn't want to push the issue because he knew that isn't what I originally wanted.  We came to that decision on our own terms, and I am at peace with that.

We arrived at the hospital on Tuesday, July 23 at 7:30 pm to get a balloon placed so it would help me dilate.  Once that was done, they told us to eat some good food, and they would start Pitocin on a very slow drip at 12:30 am on July 24.  We had Roberto's (YES), and hung out until they came in with needles and crap around 12.  I also had to get some antibiotics because I was GBS Positive, which wasn't that big of a deal.

Anywho, they started Pitocin at 12:30 am at a very low dose.  I was nervous, and had already decided that we would probably opt for the epidural if it lasted too long.  Induced labors are known to be long, extremely painful, and overall not the best experience/environment for unmedicated childbirth.  I wanted to try it for unmedicated, but was not against getting the epidural.

At 3 am, I was still only dilated to 2 cm, so they turned up the pitocin a little bit.  Holy shiz, I cannot tell you how much more painful pitocin contractions are compared to "natural" contractions.  Oh.  Oh my.  It's a pain you cannot describe.  I did not want to tap out, but I did.  However, the nurse said that the anesthesiologist wouldn't do it until I was 4 cm (due to the possibility of it wearing out too soon), so I got some pain meds through the IV.

So, not only was I having enormously painful contractions, I was hallucinating.  I thought I was on a sand dune, then woke up to searing pain all through my body.   According to Michael, contractions were 2 minutes long, 3 minutes apart at that point, and I would pass out within the 1 minute "down" time, hence why I thought I was hallucinating (in actuality, I was dreaming or something).  I remember saying things like "I can't do this" and "Make it stop", but more of a whimper versus out and out yelling like I did with Naomi (however, in my defense, I had held her in for over an hour, and that was painful).

At 4 am, I was still only 3 cm, and about dying through the contractions.  Michael was great in the fact that he told me how long I had left for a contraction (versus asking "Are you having a Contraction?" to which I yelled "Look at the fucking monitor"), and he applied counter pressure to my back.

At 5:30 am, I declared that I needed to go to the bathroom.  The balloon fell out, indicating that I was finally at 4 cm.  When I was walking out of the bathroom, my water broke in dramatic fashion.  When I say dramatic, I mean it was gushing.  All over the floor, and I am practically wading through it.  I calmly look at the nurse and said "Oh, my water.  Should I clean it up?".  I cannot tell you how freaking weird it was to have a calming presence over me (the same thing happened with Naomi when we were in the car rushing to the hospital - I was able to just be completely calm after my water broke).

I calmly get back into bed, and clutched the side railings.  As I was laying down, the anesthesiologist came in to give me an epidural.  The nurse checked me at I was 8 cm - she said "If I sit her up for an epidural, she's going to have this baby on the floor".  I couldn't talk, so Michael said, "She's at the end, she can do it".  I am very thankful that he advocated for me in the way I needed him to, because although I WANTED the epidural, I knew that if I moved at that point, I really would have her on the floor and I would have to pay $150 co-pay for an epidural that I wouldn't even be able to use.  Yes, I was thinking of Co-pays during this process - anyone who knows me well knows that this is not out of the norm for me. 

About 10 minutes later, I said "I need to push now".  The nurse, surprised, checked me and I was at 10 cm and she could see Nadia's head.  She said "Call Dr. Harter, he needs to get here".  2 minutes later I told them again that I needed to push, and they told me he wasn't there yet.  I promptly (and apparently loudly) said "Then he better get his ass in here or he's going to miss it".  I hear Dr. Harter's voice in the hallway saying "I'm here, let's get going!".  I flipped on my back, and none of the nurses were prepared with the table or anything, but there was Dr. Harter, just telling me to push and that he had me covered without the table.  I pushed once, was told to breath for 10 seconds, then told to push.

Bam.  She was here.  I count it at 1.5 pushes, Michael said it was 2, Dr. Harter said it was really all one push.  27 minutes from when my water broke, she arrived.  Had we waited at home until my water broke (like last time), we would not have made it to the hospital.  The cord was also wrapped around Nadia's neck, so who knows what could have happened if we waited another week - it could have corrected itself, but it could have also constricted so she couldn't get food or air.  I don't like to think about that part.

She was 9 lbs, 11 oz, 21 inches long - I also don't want to think about how much bigger she would have been if we waited another week.  I know for a fact that I wouldn't have been able to mentally or physically do another week of false (painful) labor and have a successful vaginal birth. 

I found out later that Dr. Harter stayed the night at the hospital because he was done with another delivery at midnight, and given my history of "going fast", he didn't want to miss it.  I am so thankful for him - he is an amazing doctor who wanted the best for me and baby, and eternally grateful that he was there.  He calms me, allows my body to do what it needed, and got that cord out from around her neck without panicking me.

I was so freaking out of it after, though.  I'm not going to lie, the whole thing was a little traumatic.  I wouldn't change our decision, though, because I know that if we hadn't made that decision, a number of things could have gone wrong, and I am at peace with the whole thing.

Nadia had to get a Coombs test conducted on her umbilical cord blood because I am O+ and she is A+.  This ABO incompatibility cannot be treated until a baby is born, so they run tests to see if there are any problems.  With Nadia, my blood cells were attacking hers, making her bilirubin levels rise dramatically.  This is problematic, because biliruben levels are associated with Jaundice, which can cause brain damage, etc if not treated properly.  We were advised by the pediatrician that if her levels did not come down with treatment, we would have to perform a blood transfusion at another hospital.

Luckily, after 3 days in the NICU, her levels came down, and we were able to come home on July 27.  Mom and Dad had to leave to get back to work and such after pretty much waiting on us hand and foot for a week and a half - we are so thankful for all of the help they provided!

Michael is home this week to help me out - I have some Postpartum issues going on, so I have appreciated the help very much!  His parents get to come out on August 9, so we are very excited to spend some time with them.

Naomi is very much the doting big sister, but is very ready for Nadia to be able to play.  Naomi has been very helpful, putting things away and fetching things for me when I am feeding Nadia.

Nadia is very calm, cool, and collected.  She doesn't cry all that much - she just kind of baahhs like a goat.  She's a great eater, and grew almost an inch in 6 days.  Last night, I only had to get up with her 3 times, which is a miracle compared to Naomi's first few weeks at home.  Either Michael or I sleep in the same room as her for now so we can attend to her needs quickly and jump into action if something is amiss.

As far as me, the emotional part of Postpartum is much better than with Naomi.  I suffered from postpartum depressing (PPD) with Naomi, and I am happy to report that 8 days after birth, I am not seeing signs or symptoms of PPD.  Obviously this can change at any time, but I am thankful to be feeling myself.  I had arranged for some preventative measures prior to giving birth, so I think that has been a huge help.  I really really hope that this positive streak continues.

If you've made it this far, thank you so much for not peacing out in the middle of what is probably the longest blog to date.  This was the easiest way to get the story out there for those who wanted to know!  Many thanks to everyone who has called, texted, e-mailed, and provided help with Naomi during this process.  It is great to have loving friends and family!

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Center of Attention at Vons

Today was a typical Tuesday.  My legs don't like to work in the morning, and I am so tired I want to just take leave without pay at work and stay in bed until July.  Unfortunately, that's not an option, so up I go.

Overall the day was fine, but I'm becoming increasingly stressed out about the unknowns at work, and the stress of figuring out the logistical and financial ramifications of putting 2 kids in daycare (and before saying "well, just stay home!", there are many layers to the decision of my choosing to still work, so please don't go there).

On top of the general stress of the whole daycare and work unknowns, I also am apprehensive about the additional doctors appointments.  I believe that I am doing remarkably well in my ability to publicly handle these situations in stride, but internally, I have been bottling up a lot of things for the sake of being thankful.

Many thanks to those who supported me at work today - it's not my nature to cry, so I greatly appreciate not treating me like a hormonal pregnant woman.

Anywho, I left work at 1 for my doctor's appointment, which thankfully everything was fine today.  "Fine" and "Great" are words we want to hear after these tests, because if they were not one of these two words, it's hospital observation and/or induction, so every time I have the test I'm mentally preparing myself to be hospitalized.  It's exhausting.

I left the doctor, and am grateful that I have until at least Friday (my next appointment) before I begin to feel those feelings of apprehension.  I needed to grab some batteries, so I stopped by Von's to grab some.

First, I couldn't find them, so I happened to pick up Little Debbie Swiss Rolls because pfft, they happened to be there.  I found the batteries, and hopped in line.

The checker was in her low 60's (maybe upper 50's?), and very talkative with the person in front of me.  I am tired, so I know that I have the "pregnant lady vacant tired" face on, so I smile at her and ask how she was doing when she turned to me.

What happened next has not happened to me, and I wasn't quite sure how to react.

This woman (who was really very nice, and I think genuinely excited) squeeled.  Not the little girl giggly type of squeel, but the oh my gosh who just drove the car into the grocery store type of squeel.  It echoed and I'm just wide eyed and surprised at what happened.  Here is the conversation that followed:

[Literally, people were looking at us.  I just smiled at her.]
Cashier: Oh my gosh, you are about to give birth.  I can feel it.
Me: We're getting there!  I still have a little less than 7 weeks left.
Cashier: No.  You're lying.
Me: [Insert kind laugh here] Nope, it's the truth.  I'm due at the end of July.
Cashier: Then there HAS to be two in there.  [Turns to middle age man next in line] Don't you think that she looks like she has two in there?!
Middle Age Guy: [Looking uncomfortable] Yeah, she does.
Cashier: SEE?!  You better get another ultrasound because I am positive that there are two.  You can't be that big with 7 weeks to go.
Me: Aww, nope - we're pretty sure there's only one.
Cashier: [Ringing up my 2 items] I think you should get another one.  How are you surviving this heat?  You just look so tired and worn out.  Do you need help out?
Me: [I smile] Oh, no, I think I have it.  Thank you for your help!  Have a good day.
Cashier: You too! [As I am walking away, she says loudly - ] Oh, look at how she's walking, poor woman!  She's just too big to still be 7 weeks away.


Literally, that is word for word what happened.  I...I just couldn't believe it.  Let's break this down:

I was kind to her, because really, she was just so excited for me.  I love when people can celebrate and be excited!  I don't like what other words come with the excitement, though.

She was SO LOUD.  People were looking at us, looking at my stomach and giving me the "awww" look, and I was really, really uncomfortable.  I look terrible, and I am so emotionally and physically tired.

I understand that I may look larger - but trust me, there is only one in there.  I have 2 ultrasounds a week to make sure my kid is still LIVING, so I am pretty sure that I know that there is just one.  I really don't need another one.

Please don't talk to random dude behind me about my size.  I already feel self conscious and ugly and useless, I don't need some random guy's peanut gallery comment!  I actually felt sorry for the guy, because he looked reallly uncomfortable.  No matter what he said, it was a no win situation.

Can't I just walk away with my Swiss Rolls and batteries and go on with my day?!  No.  I now have to hear about how big I am and how I'm walking weird.  The whole thing made me feel like this:

Sigh.  I'm not even mad...just bewildered.  You couldn't make this crap up, and of course it happens to me.  Thank goodness she was behind the counter or I am sure she would have tried to touch me, which probably would have resulted in me leaving without my items and crying in my car (I'm having more and more issues with people in my personal space and touching me.  I mean, ask first, I may be ok with it, but just random touching freaks me out.)

I just think about how happy she was...and then all the other verbal vomit that came out of her mouth.  I mean, what do I say?  Do I say "Don't speak about my baby!" or "Don't refer to my size or the way I walk!".  I will probably say that to people that I interact with (regarding the walking especially), but she was part of my life for 5 minutes.  Just plaster a smile on and move on.  Too bad I was the center of freaking attention (when I just wanted SWISS ROLLS AND BATTERIES!) where everyone gave me that "aww, I feel sorry for you" look.  That look makes me feel like this:

So, that's my vent.  I feel all kinds of worn out, so I think laying in bed for the rest of the night is deserved.  I hope Naomi will cuddle with me. 

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

So Close, Yet So Far. Crap.

I am pretty opinionated tonight, so please understand that I don't really care about language.  If your special snowflake sensibilities are offended, I apologize, and you may just want to stop reading now.  

Pregnancy blows.

That's right, I said it.  Yes, I am happy that I am pregnant.  Yes, I am happy that the child has stayed in.  Yes, I want her to go full term (which is really 39 weeks, not 37, as so many people try to tell you).  No, I don't like it.  I didn't like it the first time, and I don't like it this time.

Does that make me a terrible person?  Perhaps.  It doesn't take away from the understanding of how painful it is after a loss, or being unable to conceive.  I will forever know the pain of a loss, and I have dear friends who suffer from not being able to conceive.  I feel like a huge bitch for saying (and feeling) that I hate pregnancy and what it entails, but I have to remind myself that I also need to be true to reality.  My feelings regarding pregnancy are 100% valid, whether people understand them or not.  I hope those who read my blog know me well enough that the feelings expressed here are not to minimize the feelings or experiences of others - it is a way to get them out in a healthy way.

That being said - I wish that people (in general) were more mindful that pregnancy fucks with your psyche.  It messes with you physically, mentally, and emotionally.  It can put a strain on your relationships, all while making them stronger.  I don't really care about the body part - my body wasn't particularly sexy prior to, and it sure as hell won't be after.  I don't like, however, that pregnancy and parenting turns me into a ball of anxiety that a tranquilizer has a hard time bringing it down.

I haven't blogged in awhile, so of course I have so many things I want to say.  I feel like I can type for hours - from the idiot things people say to how tired I am of having something happen every two minutes in this pregnancy (99% of them completely unavoidable).  Is that what people really care about?  Probably not.

I have about 7 1/2 weeks left, child is head down and getting ready to go.  I am scared shitless to give birth before 39 weeks.  I have about 4 more weeks of work yet, and that can't come soon enough.  Figuring out work stuff and home stuff (with an active toddler) while trying to nest and prepare for a baby while going to 4-5 doctors appointments a week is getting exhausting (mentally and physically).  Michael has been a rock star in taking care of Naomi, knowing that I am not able to do much of the physical stuff anymore.  I am lucky that he is an attentive and participatory partner in this game called life.

We are aiming for another non-medicated birth at a hospital that provides birthing tubs and a more "granola" approach - it just also happens to be 40 miles away from our house.  Whoops.  It's killer on gas (and time), but my OB rocks and I didn't want to lose him (and I wanted the option for a water birth).  I am still working on mentally getting through the panic attacks that are triggered by things like not being able to move in case a C-Section becomes necessary.

We aren't doing a doula this time around because I am cheap.  I am also not doing an epidural because I am cheap (and the whole panic attack thing if I can't move my legs, but that is another story).  I am still doing Hypnobabies, but I am not on top of it this time around.  Basically, I suck at being pregnant this time.

My house is a horrendous mess - there are kids clothes everywhere in preparation of the nursery, Naomi's toys are scattered because I am trying to sort them into age appropriateness, beds are never made, my bathtub is gross, and I leave my makeup scattered everywhere.  I keep trying to get it to "guest ready" mode, because if anyone came in right now, they would probably turn around and leave.  The carpets are completely inappropriate as well - this weekend is mass cleanup.

I am also not leaving the house this weekend for anything - it's going to be between 109 and 111 all weekend (depending on what weather report you are looking at).  Hell no.  If I don't have to, I'm not going to.  I would rather clean until my legs fall off (which they are about to).

Naomi continues to be a hilarious child - she makes me laugh so much!  She is generally a happy kid (minus the sleeping issues we've had over the last couple of months and the horrible, blood curling tantrums she has).  We're contributing some of it to the mass amounts of change coming our way.  I think we are back in a good groove, though that will likely change when Nadia gets here.

I feel a lot differently mentally this time around versus my pregnancy with Naomi.  I was a huge sassy bitch through the whole thing (as evidenced by this amazing blog).  This time, I have been pretty laid back.  Most comments don't bother me - but lately, I've gotten a lot of "YOU'RE SO HUGE!!".  Unless you and I are super close (like, a family member or BFF), please keep that to yourself.  People also keep touching me, which actually doesn't bother me like I thought it would.  That being said, I've never had a stranger do it, so that's positive.

I hope you enjoyed my complete randomness.  As time gets closer, I will probably blog more.  Hopefully.  Maybe.  Who knows.

Livin' the dream, folks.

Monday, April 29, 2013

Pregnancy Humor

I have seen these "Pregnancy Tip: Do and Don't" around lately, along with some other preggo humor.  It keeps things light. 



Next, I am going to find some Toddler Humor  :-)

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Blown IVs, Oh My!

I woke up today sure that I was going to be able to go home.  On Wednesday night, an ultrasound tech came to check out my kidneys to see if they have any stones or inflammation.  Also on Wednesday night, I blew my second IV.

What does a "blown" IV mean, you ask?  It's this lovely little phenomenon that the medication that is going through the IV either gets into the tissue surrounding the entry point, or the medication being administered is bothering the vein.  I was lucky enough to have both! 

My first IV was in my left hand - I got it on Tuesday morning.  By the time Tuesday evening rolled around, my hand was swollen so much that it was starting to make me cry.  The nurse looked at it and decided to move it.  I had it put in my right arm - and that vein blew on Wednesday night.  It was decided to just give me jazz orally so we could avoid the IV altogether.

During this process, I found out the anti-nausea medication they are giving me causes veins to burn.  Say wha?  That's right, BURN.  Due to this, I have these lovely thick, red lines going down my arms where my tissue and veins are damaged from these meds.  The right arm (which was taken out on Wednesday night) is worse, but I didn't think anything of it.

Fast forward to today, where I had a BRAT diet (banana, rice, applesauce, toast) for each meal.  I was able to make it 1-2 hour each time, followed by losing all of it via mouth.  My Doctor was doing his rounds and saw me briefly, so he ordered me to have another IV put in.

It took 3 people to find an adequate vein, and they were all concerned about my right arm.  It is hot to the touch, very red, and very swollen.  The doctor looked at it tonight, and said that we need to keep an eye out on it tonight to make sure that it isn't Cellulitis (which, from my understanding, is a type of staph infection).  Bad news.  Fingers crossed that will go away - everything is painful enough.

The U/S did not show anything significant, though the Doctor said that it could still be stones, or the start of a Kidney infection (despite the fact that I don't have a fever).  So, at this point, I have to have IV fluids with anti-nausea meds mixed in and will be repeating the CBC blood work tomorrow to see if I have elevated white blood cells.  If I don't, then I will get discharged when I am no longer dependent on anti-nausea meds.

Whoopee.  I am tired, so I am going to bed.  Fingers crossed that he will look at the results and let me know in the morning.

Thanks for listening, and for the support!