Saturday, May 31, 2008

Awwww.... (My Show and Tell)


Jason is on the left. Shawn is on the right.

For those of you who are here from NCLM, you can't imagine how very special this picture is for me. (Let's just say that our road to a family has been straight from Hell pretty bumpy.) There were many, many days, while we were with Shawn in the hospital, when I thought I would never have the boys back together again.

I see this picture, my worries lift, and I finally feel like a mom. Me. A mom. It feels good.



Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Okay. So I have great in-laws, too. My brother-in-law came to my work today, picked up my car, took it to get smogged, washed it, and returned it to the parking lot. ALL WHILE I WORKED! How cool is that? He took pity on me and my seriously late registration (is April 10 really 6 weeks ago?) and told me that I couldn't argue, he was just doing it. I feel more than a little guilty about it, though. I kind of feel like I should have had my crap together a little more and got it done. Sigh. I apparently take every opportunity available to beat myself up these days.

-----

The school psychologist has been interviewing the teachers at school and gathering information to take to the superintendent about post traumatic stress.** I was able to give a slightly different perspective than most, because I wasn't actually there when it happened, and I am able to see the effects of everything as a sort of outsider. The most striking thing I have noticed is that the rather close knit staff seems to have fractured. There are small groups of people who are still close, but there are many more outliers than there were before I left. It makes me sad to see it. There is also the feeling that blame has been directed toward the staff, not just by the community, but by the district office. I can feel that, too (although it has already been established that I do that sort of thing to myself). There have been too many staff development programs aimed at how we can detect and deter bullying for it to not feel like there is something being said indirectly. That was compounded by an in-service we had two weeks ago. The victim's name was brought up, things were said, and the end result was that most of my school's staff left the district wide meeting. It was ugly. Anyway, I am hoping that the school psychologist (who is also dealing with PTSD because he was with the victim right after he was shot) is able to help healing begin at the school.

**We were given a short questionnaire to determine our risk of PTSD. When I answered the questions about the shooting, I am not at risk. However, I answered the questions again about the babies, and I score as very high risk. Hmm...kind of knew that one was coming.

------

And for all you commenters out there, I saw on another blog (forgive me when I say I can't remember where) that a question was asked for the commenters to answer. That way, you have something pretty straight forward to answer if you can't think of anything to say after posting countless comments. Anyway, if you want it, here is today's question: What kitchen appliance could you not live without and why?

My answer is my microwave. What did people do before this little technological wonder was created? I can't imagine myself trying to cook the old fashioned way, you know, on a stove, now that the boys are here. I love the ease of popping something into the microwave, blinking a few times, and viola, it is finished. Ahh, heaven.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Two things: 1) my butt is sitting on the couch right now, so I have successfully avoided the mentioned ass stuck to the toilet issue, and 2) I am finally feeling better. Let me just say a big, fat yea for both of them. This bout of IB (usually only stress induced now a days) was particularly intense, and I am thanking the porcelain gods that I was finally freed from the drama.

I hereby declare that there will be no further incidents such as the one I've just experienced. Sounds good, doesn't it?

Then so it shall be.

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Some of you may have noticed the cute little party hat on my side bar. I am participating in NaComLeavMo, or National Comment Leaving Month, from May 25th to June 25th. You can click on the icon for a detailed summary, but for the most part the rules are:

you will do your normal blog reading, but you will make sure that you leave at least 5 comments a day and regardless of how many comments you usually receive, you will return at least 1 comment by going to a commentor's blog and leaving a comment there. If you do not have any comments that day (perhaps you didn't write a new post or your blog falls into a strange, other-worldly commentless abyss), simply jump to the participant's list below and pick a new blog and leave a comment.


My personal goal is to get leave at least ten comments a day, both at blogs I frequent and new blogs, and return comments on all the comments left for me. Now, I may get a little behind on this, but I am going to give it my darndest. I am hoping to add to my blog roll when all of this is done and find many more blogs to read each day. (You know, because my life is so slow around here.)

So, dear readers, I am soliciting addresses of some of your favorite blogs. They can be any type of blog: general, fertility/infertility, parenting, crafting, or whatever. If you love it, there is a strong chance that I will, too.

Thanks!

P.S. There is nothing that says you can't join NaComLeavMo, too, if your interested!

Saturday, May 24, 2008

My Dearest Bowels,

You and I have had issues for quite some time now. I did not complain back in high school when you first took your nasty revenge on me. Wasn't that because of a break-up with my first boyfriend? Ah yes, so it was. I did not complain (much) when you acted up on my wedding night because at least you had the decency to keep our rendezvous brief. I didn't even complain the last time you visited, after my c-section, when your shenanigans fooled the hospital staff, had me quarantined by the infectious disease doctors, and even had the surgeon gleefully talking about "exploratory" surgery.

But now, dear bowels, I am complaining. I can appreciate the fact that you allowed me to escape our meeting for the past eight weeks. I realize the said weeks have been incredibly taxing and were by far the most stressful time I (well, us) have ever encountered. I was under the impression that you were granting me a reprieve from your torture--at least for this one time. I was so thankful...

And then you bestowed a wrath like no other on poor unsuspecting me.

Knocked me off my butt and placed it squarely on the toilet.

Where I have remained, save a few spare minutes, for the past 36 hours.

Yes. 3. 6. Hours.

It hasn't been fun.

Isn't it time for a truce, oh beloved bowels?

Surely all of this is getting old, right? I would greatly appreciate it if you would vacate this current little game of yours and allow me a little peace. I so need peace right now.

Stacie

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Irritable bowel sucks.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Show and Tell





My men are finally together. For good. I am still so excited that I don't know what to do with myself!

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Little Bits...

Cleared from the neurosurgeons until August. My stomach is still in knots from the anticipation about today's visit. We hadn't had a good visit to that place in so long--actually, ever. Now, let's all pray that a new trend has started from now on out!


I seriously love the people I work with. I asked for sick leave to help cover the time I was out for the Shawn crisis (I used all of this years' and next years' leave on bed rest). I needed 5 days to cover the time I was out. The first day the request was out, I had twenty-two days donated! Can you freaken believe it? It makes me all teary eyed when I think about it.


I can't seem to get enough of Shawn and his smile. It is all I can do not to squeeze him to death when he grins. My heart just sings each and every time.


I also am having a great time watching the two boys together. They hold hands, talk, and smile at each other. Shawn is definitely getting more out of the encounters than Jason, but they both seem to like being near each other as much as possible.


------


And to my blogland buddies (I hope I didn't leave anyone out)...


Congrats to Topcat on the birth of little Monkey (no, that isn't his real name)!


Congrats to K for the Dis.covery Health documentary about her growing family. How cool is that? They are going to film her family pre-babies, through the birth, and afterward. It will air sometime this winter!


Maya - have fun on your trip!


Congrats to Megan and Lee on the birth of little Lila!


Congrats to Doc Grumbles for the wonderful sight of Jag's heartbeat!

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Some More Cuteness

Shawn...




Jason...




Monday, May 19, 2008

Cause I Just Can't Get Enough...


No eating problems for us now...

Shawn's little Elvis grin (Hubba, hubba). You can sort of see his new shunt in this picture. It's the little bump behind his ear.


He just loves kisses. They make him so happy that he looks like this...


And lastly, we have two little teeth poking their way through. They sort of snuck up on us!

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Highlights

from tonight...




Shawn was full of smiles tonight. I think he even chuckled two times! Plus, he is talking up a storm. We are so excited. Finally, I think he is feeling better.

This last one is of him blowing slurberts back at me after I did it to him.


Now this is heaven.

Ultra sound shows fluid is decreasing. Finally. He is coming home.

I am so tired; it is unbelievable.

Normalcy...I am waiting. Not so patiently, either.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Surgery 8. Second shunt. Maybe this will be it.

What pisses me off the most is that the shunt that was infected worked. Then they pulled it out and couldn't find the "right" place again.

Now a second shunt.

This will be it, right?
Insisted. Got it. Still fluid.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Still waiting for the neuro team to "intrepret" what we can all see.

Fucking bastards.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

You'll love this one. Surgery 7 today. It seems that the catheter "moved" out of his ventricles. This doesn't happen, in fact none of the nurses we've talked to (and we talked to them all) have ever heard of this happening before. I get that the nurses are not specialists, but they've been around. They know. The neurosurgeon on call last night was surprised. The head of neurosurgery had a totally different demeanor this time, too. He was serious. Asshole did the operation. Any correlation you think?

Head of neurosurgery did this latest surgery. They used an endoscope (again) to make sure placement is correct. Of course, they've used the endoscope at least two other times and we know how that went.

Head looks good so far. Smiling. Eating. Pooping. But I am far from relaxed about this being the fix. I want a CT scan before we leave. The neuro team don't seem to want to do it unless there is an indication that things are amiss. I want it for my sanity. Can't they give me just one day of knowing that the thing works the way it is supposed to?

I smell the brewing of a lawsuit against the asshole. I am not one to go after someone or try to seek revenge over something, but this whole situation just reeks of malpractice. I am having trouble connecting with the patient advocate this time around, so I am not sure what I'll get from her.

Seven. Fucking. Surgeries. Since. March. 18. What. The. Fuck!

------

Hugs to Topcat. I am thinking of you and sending loads of love your way.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

There is fluid build-up again.

I just don't understand why this keeps happening.
Please tell me that we are just overly cautious because we are taking Shawn back to the ER tonight. Don't tell me that it's starting again...

Please. I am begging...

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

I am watching both my boys sleep right now. It is heavenly.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

A Pity Party for One.

Mother's Day has come and gone. I'll add it to the increasing list of fairly sad days that I've had lately, days that are supposed to be special but haven't been for various reasons. My mom acknowledged it, and Jason did, too, with a "My Mom Rocks" onesie put on him by yours truly, but Isaac didn't. I know that there is too much going on for it to even be on the radar right now, but it made me sad nonetheless. I didn't say anything about it and just let it go when we talked. I didn't even get to spend it with both the boys. I had to choose, so to speak, one or the other because there is no way I am taking Jason to the hospital and expose him to whatever might be hanging out in the air there.


This is so not how I expected my life to be. For the most part, I try not to ask "why?" all of this is happening. I try to be positive about whatever I can. There are days, though, when I just can't seem to help myself. Why me? seems like an appropriate question today.


I hear people talk about their lives and complain about how tough they have it and I just wish I would get two seconds to worry about their worries instead of my own. It would be a relief. I know, I know, "the grass is greener..." and all of that crap. Still...


I just can't wait until I can start enjoying things. I try to, but there always seems to be some drama building in the not too far off distance. The other shoe hovers above my head constantly, waiting. I think it is actually sitting on my head, really. If I don't balance things just so, the shoe will come crashing down on everything again.


I tell myself that this is only temporary. The longer it goes on, though, it is harder and harder to convince myself of that. I am doing all I can do. That is all I can ask of myself.


I just need a little...peace and normalcy.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

It's Mother's Day and I am having such a hard time wrapping my mind around that idea. Me. A mother. And I didn't even have a curse word attached to the end of it. How surreal.
Scheduled for early Monday.

Signed paperwork.

Feaking out for some reason. I mean seriously freaking out.

Friday, May 9, 2008

Made it to 6 days with no bacteria...please let us make it one more...

Thursday, May 8, 2008

This might be a little rambly. Ok, a lot.

I seriously dislike my neurosurgeon. I mean S.E.R.I.O.U.S.L.Y. dislike him. More on that later.

The infection Shawn has is a staph bacteria that attaches itself to plastics. We think that the infection was found early (no thanks to them) and hadn't had a chance to establish itself throughout his body. Every culture taken since his shunt was removed has been negative. Still the course of treatment is 10-14 days of IV antibiotics (vanco.mycin) and an oral antibiotic (rifam.pin, which has the great side effect of turning his mouth, poop, and pee a nice shade of orange).

The 10-14 days is what threw me over the edge. Initially, we were told that he would need 7-10 days of IV antibiotics. That would have meant that he would have finished 10 days on Saturday, have his shunt surgery that day, and go home on Sunday. We asked the pediatrician team and the neurosurgeon team about this. The peds team said 10-14 days, the doctor from the neuro team said that it was only 7-10 days.

Ok. I believe the neurosurgeon, seeing how this was her specialty.

There was also much discussion over the weekend about when the 7-10 (or 10-14) days would begin. It was decided, again by the neurosurgeon, that the timeline started when the vanco.mycin started. The peds team said that it didn't start until the shunt was removed.

Ok. I believed the neurosurgeon again...it still is supposed to be her specialty.

Fast forward to Monday morning at 6 freaking 30 in the morning. I was in the room with Shawn and Isaac was out in the parking lot sleeping in his car. (remember, we only have a tiny area to be in which isn't hardly big enough for us to sit together much less sleep)

Anyway, I was in the room with Shawn feeding him when the team of four doctors came in: the asshole, the head of neurology, the attending, and the lowly resident. The asshole is somehow above the attending but below the head in rank.

I asked what the treatment plan was going to be. Asshole starts off by saying that he has 14 days of antibiotics to complete and goes on to say that he hopes we can get out of there by the end of the month. WTF? Starting when the shunt was removed. I was like, I was told 7-10 days starting when he started the antibiotic. I was so upset and instantly mad.

Now, I still don't think that I was inappropriate with this next part, but here is where it went bad...

I tried to get the asshole to tell me what they were looking for to determine when things would be done. I was looking for some sort of explanation as to why it went from 7-10 days to definitely 14 days to he might go home by the end of the month. He wouldn't address my questions and kept trying to avoid answering them. I was getting more and more frustrated. He brought up that I had told one of the neurosurgeon (the resident) that I felt that Shawn had at least two surgeries that he shouldn't have had and that I had lost my confidence in the "team". I agreed that I didn't have any confidence in them, and that I thought they should have been able to help Shawn, and that I didn't think that we should have had to go there for FIVE surgeries in a little over a month, and that we shouldn't have had to return there every FREAKING weekend. I told him that I was upset that the time they FINALLY get the shunt working correctly they give him an infection and have to pull the WHOLE FREAKING THING OUT!!! His response was that Shawn is a difficult case. That made me even madder. I responded by saying that I was tired of having them say he was difficult and mentioned something about how he didn't give himself an infection.

Now, I was very angry, but I don't think that I ever was out of line. I was not going to stand by and let them continue to think of my baby as some sort of science project, but other than saying I had no confidence in them, I said nothing more than I felt they should have been able to help Shawn by now.

The asshole's response, while I was talking, was that he was happy to move us to another hospital.

Oh, that is when the world went dark. If I hadn't have had Shawn, there is no telling what I would have done. At that point, I got up, put Shawn back in his crib, and it was on.

I. Was. Livid.

We all knew that there was no way Shawn could go anywhere. First, his shunt is externalized, meaning he has a catheter coming out of his head so that extra CFS fluid can drain out of his head. There is a high infection risk from this alone. There is also a lot of technical stuff that has to happen because of this. There is no way that Shawn can maintain the pressure in his head on his own because he has the catheter. The solution to that is to level the drain to his head so that it mimics the pressure he would get if he had the shunt. If Shawn moves, the drain has to be re leveled to keep the pressure the same. If the drain is too high, it won't let the fluid drain the way it should and extra pressure would build in his head (too much pressure could lead to brain damage). Too low, and too much fluid drains from his head and that could also lead to brain damage. It is a delicate dance we continue to play all day long.

How dare he say that when he knows that there is NOWHERE we could go and NOTHING we could do.

No other surgeon would touch him in the middle of treatment anyway. They wouldn't want to be connected to the possible malpractice of another surgeon.

The head neurosurgeon stepped in at this point and tried to diffuse the situation by answering some of my questions. He let me know that they wanted to see his fluid come back negative for seven days before they would put the shunt back in. He said that the seven days puts us to Saturday, and that would mean surgery to replace the shunt on Monday. We could leave on Tuesday if all went well.

How hard was that.

Asshole piped in again and said we weren't to talk to the pediatrician team about Shawn's shunt. He was going to personally chastise them for giving us the wrong information, blah, blah, blah.

I told him that it wasn't the peds team that gave us the misinformation--it was his own (and that doctor never said a word nor did I call her out on it)--I know for a fact because we had been taking notes on what the doctors said. He just went on about how he was going to talk to them and other such crap.

The whole exchange lasted no more than 5-7 minutes, tops. It seemed like an eternity.

The pediatrician attending came in about 30 minutes later. I explained to her what happened. She didn't say anything negative about the asshole, but I could tell that this was probably not the first time they had had trouble like this happen with him. She gave me the name of the patient advocate because she agreed that there is no way he should have said anything about moving Shawn in the condition he is in...it would be highly dangerous.

SO, (man I have a lot to say about all of this), the next day, the neuro team comes in during rounds without the asshole! Ha. Made me laugh. He didn't come in the next day during rounds either, but he did come in later for all of two seconds to tell me the fluid cultures were still clear.

Because of all of this, it has been decided that only an attending pediatrician can treat us. The residents are not allowed to give us any information about treatment or anything else. The nurses now are out of answers, too. Not sure if this is to placate the asshole or to keep me from complaining about something else, although I really don't have anything negative to say about anyone at the hospital except the asshole. I do know that it makes them nervous now that I have my trusty journal out so I can write down what the doctors say while they talk to me.

I am not a difficult person to get along with. I don't like to argue even. I prefer to make nice with everyone and not cause any waves. But come on! At least tell me what you are planning and why you are thinking that way when I ask about it. It makes me nervous when you can't do that!

I know that maybe I am an unusual parent in this way. I have been very clear about this, though, and have said that I do best when they are just upfront with me. I really don't have a problem with what they do as long as they can tell me why.

Why are you giving him this new antibiotic that I haven't heard of before? doesn't seem like an unusual thing to ask. Who ordered it? What are the side effects? Shouldn't everyone ask things like that? People are not perfect. I would never forgive myself if I happened to let something like that get by me and Shawn was affected negatively. It makes me nervous when that makes people nervous.

Because of that, I have been label difficult again.

Oh well. Fix my baby, and you won't have to deal with me anymore.

P.S. Please forgive me if I don't leave comments for a few days. I do still read, but well, you know how it is. Hugs.
Home.

Exhausted.

Angry.

Tuesday at the earliest is the new date for discharge.

A lot has happened, including a threat by the asshole neurosurgeon to find another hospital for us, which was totally unprofessional and resulted in an appointment with the patient advocate. (dude almost had a very upset mother all up in his face, too. first time I have ever had that violent of a response to another person. I wanted to tear that man's eyes out. it wouldn't have been pretty for him.)

Shawn started smiling today...just a little bit, but I'll take it.

Never a dull moment around here.

I'll update tomorrow.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

I am about ready to head back to the hospital. I spent the day lesson planning, cleaning everything around me (my stress reliever) and spending quality time with Jason. I am dragging my feet here, I know. I want to be there at the hospital for Shawn, but I am having trouble getting myself to the door.

Sigh.

The surgery to remove the shunt went as well as could be expected. The surgeon said that the shunt did indeed look infected--she said it was brown on the inside. They took more fluid to test, but that is coming out negative for the staph bacteria still and we are coming up to 30 hours. We passed the dreaded 26 hour mark with flying colors. Now we wait.

They won't put a shunt back in until his fluid tests clear of the bacteria for 72-96 hours. A lot can happen in that time.

I asked if it was possible that the infection was localized in the shunt still and hadn't really made its way into his system. That sort of explains to me why the bacteria is taking so long to grow out. To draw out the initial fluid for testing, they had to go through the shunt we know was infected. I wanted to know if the shunt could have contaminated the sample they sent for culture. The surgeon agreed it was possible, but I think she was placating me (as I was not in the best of moods) so I don't know how plausible that theory is. I guess if this new sample, taken after the shunt was removed, fails to grow out the staph I will declare myself a genius for figuring the world out and move on. It doesn't do me any good one way or the other if I am right, though. I suppose it is just my way of wrapping my mind around all of this.

I am not good at waiting. I hate it with a passion. It stresses me out more than anything else.

Isaac is with him today. He started eating with earnest once we convinced them to drop the IV fluids down some. The blood and urine cultures came back negative, so we got them to drop one of the "blanket" antibiotics they were giving him just in case. He had a sponge bath today, too.

The smiles are gone, though. He still doesn't feel well. Poor baby.

There is a patient in the next bed who is also dealing with a shunt infection. Interesting isn't it. My question was how are they going to prevent another infection with the new shunt they place later in the week. I didn't get a satisfactory answer. "There's always a risk of infection..." blah, blah, blah. Wouldn't have to worry about it if you would just get it right, you stupid people!

UUUUUUUGGGGG!

I can't get Internet reception at the hospital. I can't use my cell phone in the room with Shawn. I feel disconnected from everything. I feel alone. I feel like the world is out to get us. I don't have confidence in anyone at the hospital, so I feel like I always have to be there paying attention to everything that happens. I can't sleep there. It is impossible to sleep at a hospital when you're a patient, but it is even more difficult when you feel like you can't let anything get by you or something bad might happen. And I get to do it in a space that is about 6 feet by 6 feet and contains a crib, two IV stands, two monitors, and the stupid fold out bed for me. I hate it all. It can make me sick to my stomach just thinking about it.

I am going to spend the next several nights at the hospital with Shawn alone so Isaac can come home and go to work. We've used up all of his vacation time and sick leave for stupid hospital visits. He has to work. I have to work. But we need to stay with Shawn, too. (I know that work isn't as important as Shawn is. It's just that we live in California and the bills don't pay for themselves. Plus, we get our insurance through my work, and well, we can't lose that.) He'll come back to the hospital on Wednesday night to stay while I go to work on Thursday and Friday. That is the best we could come up with.

I suppose I have stalled enough. I need to go. I don't want to...sniff, sniff. Jesus, Stacie. Put on your big girl panties and get on with it already.

My baby needs me to be strong. I will be strong. I just don't know how much strength I have left before it becomes too much. And that scares me to death.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Not good news. Seems that the good doctors left a little present when they put in the last shunt catheter. Yep. Staph.

They took everything out today and have given him an external shunt for the next few days. This was surgery #5 since March 18.

7-10 days of IV antibiotics. It will depend what the Infectious Disease doctors decide.

Surgery #6 will be later this week - you know, when they have to go back in and put the shunt back.

I think I have finally cracked.

When we got there, we were told that they thought there was an infection in the shunt. They did a CT scan and everything finally looked good. They tapped the shunt and tested the fluid. They said that they were looking to see if anything grows out in the next 24 hours. The pediatrician had just came in at hour 25 to say that all was good. 20 minutes later she came back and said that the staph had finally cultured. At hour 26.

Can you say "meltdown"? I most certainly had one. I raged at anyone who looked in my direction. I place the blame for all of this crap (and two extra surgeries) all on their shoulders. We got an "I'm sorry." Oooh, that so helped make everything better.

I came home tonight to try and get so sleep. I go back tomorrow to stay Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, so Isaac can go to work. He'll come back Wednesday night so I can go to work on Thursday and Friday.

Hopefully, even if I think of things on the conservative side (because when has anything ever gone our way), we will be able to bring him home next Sunday.

I am so tired that I can't even think.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Spoke too soon. He has a fever. Back to the hospital for us.
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