All packed. At least, I sincerely hope so. We'll be reaching the point of no return in two hours. Hubby is already quite tired of me scolding him for picking up his carry on bag. And he's especially discouraged to need somebody to tie his shoes for him. Overall he still is feeling better than he did for the two days before the appendectomy, but this is still going to be a very, very long day for him. He's napping now.
We made it to church to see off the mission team this morning, delivering two small ladders and a pair of sawhorses (turns out they are doing interior work so the needed some SMALL stuff instead of the usual roof ladders). I had to locate the sawhorses. There really is a limit to the size of our basement, but apparently NO limit at all to where two bright yellow sawhorses can hide. I was on my third tour, looking and looking and looking and......I discovered that the sawhorses were pretending to be, well, table legs. Hubby had set up a temporary worktable for himself. Babygirl and I managed to sub out the portable little sawhorses with some heavy-duty ones, but it involved raising the tabletop about a foot. Teamwork.
Did I tell you about my new suitcases? I picked bright purple and pink stripes. No struggle trying to figure out which one of the huge black suitcases on the carousel are mine!
LOL okay the Tingle is back. Time to turn off the laptop and get it packed!
DeeDee
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Friday, July 12, 2013
Pre-Disastering.....
It's been a long-held belief in our family that if at all possible one should pre-disaster any important event. Failure to do so can lead to having disaster strike DURING one's event, which is to be avoided at all costs. For example, failing to pre-disaster a beach trip some years ago resulted in a softball being pitched through the rear window of Rhonda the Honda. My sister-in-law and I lost an afternoon of precious beach time having it replaced (which, if you think about it, is disaster heaped upon disaster). The year we broke her car's rear window with an improperly installed bike rack right before we left, we had no such troubles. See?
In yesterday's post I mentioned that Hubby's stomach was acting up. What I didn't mention was that I suspected, by symptoms, that it was going to be a big problem but that he, ostrich-fashion, decided that he really didn't need to go to the ER. Until he had no choice.
Seven last night found us in the fast track. After two brief sentences addressed to the attending physician there (including the phrases: "Recent admission" and "GI bleed") that apparently the triage nurse failed to register, we were sent to the main ED for evaluation. Hubby's lack of fever and vomiting had everybody looking pretty relaxed until the pain hit again and he looked more appropriately ill. (Is it my imagination or do men immediately forget how much it hurt an hour ago? I had to keep telling people that the pain wasn't ALWAYS only a '2'!) The CT scan confirmed what I'd suspected: Appendicitis.
Dammit. I was sincerely hoping it was a kidney stone. You can travel to places like, say, PARIS, with a kidney stone if they give you enough drugs.
I asked the surgeon what the odds were that he'd be able to fly to Paris 36 hours after the surgery. I explained why it wasn't an ordinary trip, taking full and ruthless advantage of the pity the phrase, "Our Babygirl's Make-A-Wish trip" engenders. He said it all depended upon whether or not he could remove it laparascopically. He didn't need to tell me how difficult that would be on someone of Hubby's size.
At 2 AM they wheeled Hubby off to the OR. As he was going in they spotted his wedding ring and made him take it off and give it to me. It was all I could do at that moment to keep from breaking down and sobbing. Oh, God - keep in in Your mighty hands!
One extremely long hour later the surgeon came and told me that the operation had proceeded simply and smoothly. Appendix out through the belly button! Barring infection, he'll be discharged tomorrow morning - plenty of time to pack and load a limo if he feels up to it. The surgeon promised plenty of pain meds for the road. (Playing the pity card may not have had anything to do with it. But I'm thinking he went the extra mile to avoid more complicated surgery.)
So Paris is still a possibility. And kudos to Hubby for being willing to take up the pre-disaster flag.
Thanks for the nighttime prayers from all you night owls!
DeeDee
In yesterday's post I mentioned that Hubby's stomach was acting up. What I didn't mention was that I suspected, by symptoms, that it was going to be a big problem but that he, ostrich-fashion, decided that he really didn't need to go to the ER. Until he had no choice.
Seven last night found us in the fast track. After two brief sentences addressed to the attending physician there (including the phrases: "Recent admission" and "GI bleed") that apparently the triage nurse failed to register, we were sent to the main ED for evaluation. Hubby's lack of fever and vomiting had everybody looking pretty relaxed until the pain hit again and he looked more appropriately ill. (Is it my imagination or do men immediately forget how much it hurt an hour ago? I had to keep telling people that the pain wasn't ALWAYS only a '2'!) The CT scan confirmed what I'd suspected: Appendicitis.
Dammit. I was sincerely hoping it was a kidney stone. You can travel to places like, say, PARIS, with a kidney stone if they give you enough drugs.
I asked the surgeon what the odds were that he'd be able to fly to Paris 36 hours after the surgery. I explained why it wasn't an ordinary trip, taking full and ruthless advantage of the pity the phrase, "Our Babygirl's Make-A-Wish trip" engenders. He said it all depended upon whether or not he could remove it laparascopically. He didn't need to tell me how difficult that would be on someone of Hubby's size.
At 2 AM they wheeled Hubby off to the OR. As he was going in they spotted his wedding ring and made him take it off and give it to me. It was all I could do at that moment to keep from breaking down and sobbing. Oh, God - keep in in Your mighty hands!
One extremely long hour later the surgeon came and told me that the operation had proceeded simply and smoothly. Appendix out through the belly button! Barring infection, he'll be discharged tomorrow morning - plenty of time to pack and load a limo if he feels up to it. The surgeon promised plenty of pain meds for the road. (Playing the pity card may not have had anything to do with it. But I'm thinking he went the extra mile to avoid more complicated surgery.)
So Paris is still a possibility. And kudos to Hubby for being willing to take up the pre-disaster flag.
Thanks for the nighttime prayers from all you night owls!
DeeDee
Thursday, July 11, 2013
The Tingle.......
I'm starting to get really excited about traveling to Paris! I've been going to the Weather Channel's website (it no longer asks. It just goes to Paris) to check the ten-day forecast (looking good!). I'm about 3/4 packed. I'm so caught up on laundry that my work clothes from yesterday are already clean and folded. Barring disaster, I might actually be able to work in a pedicure Saturday morning before we leave!
There are, of course, always glitches. I have a sinus infection (90% better already after two days of antibiotics) and Hubby has something going on with his stomach, which I sincerely hope is just a case of pre-travel jitters.
It seems there is always some drama when we need to leave the country. The sheer number of problems we had within 24 hours of going to get Babygirl from Guatemala still staggers my mind when I think about it. Remind me to share that story sometime!
But back to this post....
Do you remember how you felt when you were a kid and something awesome was going to happen? The moment you woke up on Christmas morning? The moment when you finished setting up camp and were turned loose to explore? Laying out your first-day-of-school outfit? That deep-seeded, jump-out-of-your-skin excitement? The Tingle that starts low in your belly and runs right up the back of your spine that tells you something extraordinary is right around the bend.
I woke up this morning Tingling.
Our adult lives are fraught with cares and worries. Our responsibilities far outweigh our free moments, and sometimes they outweigh our joy. This Sandwich Generation life reminds me of an old-fashioned yoke - one heavy bucket hanging on each shoulder, struggling for balance. We grow accustomed to the feel of disappointment. We delay gratification to the point where we rarely feel gratified! And while each of us find moments for laughter and fun, we Adults rarely have something so incredibly momentous to look forward to that we ourselves didn't have to shoulder the entire responsibility of planning and paying for ourselves.
Make-A-Wish focuses on the children who need one dream to look forward to. It helps the kids get through so, so many hard times. Babygirl and I have discussed this trip in some of her most difficult hours. But the side benefit is for the families. All I have to do Saturday is get up. I don't have to make phone calls, arrange last-minute travel plans, run to the bank. I don't have to gas up the car and drive an hour and pay for long-term parking. I don't have to hustle reluctant unprepared people. I don't have to load a trailer full of beach towels and bikes.
I get to enjoy the Tingle.
DeeDee
There are, of course, always glitches. I have a sinus infection (90% better already after two days of antibiotics) and Hubby has something going on with his stomach, which I sincerely hope is just a case of pre-travel jitters.
It seems there is always some drama when we need to leave the country. The sheer number of problems we had within 24 hours of going to get Babygirl from Guatemala still staggers my mind when I think about it. Remind me to share that story sometime!
But back to this post....
Do you remember how you felt when you were a kid and something awesome was going to happen? The moment you woke up on Christmas morning? The moment when you finished setting up camp and were turned loose to explore? Laying out your first-day-of-school outfit? That deep-seeded, jump-out-of-your-skin excitement? The Tingle that starts low in your belly and runs right up the back of your spine that tells you something extraordinary is right around the bend.
I woke up this morning Tingling.
Our adult lives are fraught with cares and worries. Our responsibilities far outweigh our free moments, and sometimes they outweigh our joy. This Sandwich Generation life reminds me of an old-fashioned yoke - one heavy bucket hanging on each shoulder, struggling for balance. We grow accustomed to the feel of disappointment. We delay gratification to the point where we rarely feel gratified! And while each of us find moments for laughter and fun, we Adults rarely have something so incredibly momentous to look forward to that we ourselves didn't have to shoulder the entire responsibility of planning and paying for ourselves.
Make-A-Wish focuses on the children who need one dream to look forward to. It helps the kids get through so, so many hard times. Babygirl and I have discussed this trip in some of her most difficult hours. But the side benefit is for the families. All I have to do Saturday is get up. I don't have to make phone calls, arrange last-minute travel plans, run to the bank. I don't have to gas up the car and drive an hour and pay for long-term parking. I don't have to hustle reluctant unprepared people. I don't have to load a trailer full of beach towels and bikes.
I get to enjoy the Tingle.
DeeDee
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Third Year, Week 12 - Packing for Paris...
I just realized that I started this blog two years ago this week. We've come quite a long way! Babygirl picked her Make-A-Wish trip the week before she received her kidney transplant. And now we are packing.
Babygirl has loaded up her suitcases, thankfully AFTER asking for some guidance. I suggested that she put her clothes together by day, undies/bra/shirt/pants (or whatever). Pack an empty pillowcase to use for dirty clothes. Use double layers of ziplock bags for anything that could leak. An hour later she came downstairs and said, "I need bras."
I can see why she wouldn't really know this until she tried to pack 8 days worth of outfits. She's been sick a long time, attending school a maximum of 3 days a week for months. Her medication has caused some size adjustments. And I am the Queen of keeping up with the laundry. I also understand that you can run to the grocery store in something that doesn't look as nice as what you'd want to wear to a lovely bistro in another country. In fact, I know all this so well that I went shopping for the same item for myself Sunday afternoon. Babygirl was with me on that shopping trip. And I specifically asked her then if she needed anything.
It is a testament to how much I love her that I didn't simply kill her, pack her in her suitcase for the trip and hope for lost luggage.
I've mentioned more than once how little I like shopping. But some shopping is worse than others: Shopping for bras and bathing suits is nearly guaranteed to make any woman, however lovely, unhappy with herself. And add 'teen-aged' to the above sentence? OhDearLord. Just ask Citygirl how much fun THAT is.
Sometimes you have to turn your irritation inside out and just laugh.
All three of us went off to Walmart and picked up last-minute stuff for the trip. Umbrella. Smaller wallet. Shampoo and conditioner. Sneakers for Hubby. Dog food for our dogsitter to give Simon (he's usually a table-scrap kind of guy). And (sigh) new undergarments for Babygirl, which required, not unexpectedly, more than an hour in a fitting room.
I will not be the least bit surprised if it turns out NOT to be our last trip there. I've already made one trip to the pharmacy, and discovered that I need to make another. We haven't taken a vacation since the transplant, so some of the packing issues are different. And going out of the country means we can't pre-sort any of our pills! We can take the sorters, but the pills all have to be in their original labeled containers, so we'll have to sort them once we get there so we can take a days' worth here and there. Oh - that reminds me! I need pill bags! (Those are 2x2" zipper bags for individual doses of medications - seriously one of the best ideas ever).
I am looking forward to that moment on the plane where I smack my head and say, "I completely forgot......!" Because once you've discovered that one thing, you can finally just relax.
DeeDee
Babygirl has loaded up her suitcases, thankfully AFTER asking for some guidance. I suggested that she put her clothes together by day, undies/bra/shirt/pants (or whatever). Pack an empty pillowcase to use for dirty clothes. Use double layers of ziplock bags for anything that could leak. An hour later she came downstairs and said, "I need bras."
I can see why she wouldn't really know this until she tried to pack 8 days worth of outfits. She's been sick a long time, attending school a maximum of 3 days a week for months. Her medication has caused some size adjustments. And I am the Queen of keeping up with the laundry. I also understand that you can run to the grocery store in something that doesn't look as nice as what you'd want to wear to a lovely bistro in another country. In fact, I know all this so well that I went shopping for the same item for myself Sunday afternoon. Babygirl was with me on that shopping trip. And I specifically asked her then if she needed anything.
It is a testament to how much I love her that I didn't simply kill her, pack her in her suitcase for the trip and hope for lost luggage.
I've mentioned more than once how little I like shopping. But some shopping is worse than others: Shopping for bras and bathing suits is nearly guaranteed to make any woman, however lovely, unhappy with herself. And add 'teen-aged' to the above sentence? OhDearLord. Just ask Citygirl how much fun THAT is.
Sometimes you have to turn your irritation inside out and just laugh.
All three of us went off to Walmart and picked up last-minute stuff for the trip. Umbrella. Smaller wallet. Shampoo and conditioner. Sneakers for Hubby. Dog food for our dogsitter to give Simon (he's usually a table-scrap kind of guy). And (sigh) new undergarments for Babygirl, which required, not unexpectedly, more than an hour in a fitting room.
I will not be the least bit surprised if it turns out NOT to be our last trip there. I've already made one trip to the pharmacy, and discovered that I need to make another. We haven't taken a vacation since the transplant, so some of the packing issues are different. And going out of the country means we can't pre-sort any of our pills! We can take the sorters, but the pills all have to be in their original labeled containers, so we'll have to sort them once we get there so we can take a days' worth here and there. Oh - that reminds me! I need pill bags! (Those are 2x2" zipper bags for individual doses of medications - seriously one of the best ideas ever).
I am looking forward to that moment on the plane where I smack my head and say, "I completely forgot......!" Because once you've discovered that one thing, you can finally just relax.
DeeDee
Sunday, July 7, 2013
166 Days....
Every now and then your mind skips backward in time. Sometimes it goes to a happier place. Sometimes, it flashes back to your nightmares.
I don't know why my mind was fixed on dialysis yesterday. Certainly there were more fun things on offer! But sometimes you just have to let the evil memories roll. It's part of the healing process, I guess.
Babygirl was on dialysis for 166 days. It was less than half a year. Yet it yawns in my memory as a much, much longer time. We were exhausted. We were stressed. We were always afraid. And every single phone call was a heart-racing adrenal-squeezing event. I can feel my chest tighten and my breath quicken just thinking about it all.
It's really difficult to discuss. It was stressful in such a multitude of ways impossible to narrow down what specifically was the MOST stressful about it. Not ever really sleeping. Not ever even for a minute being able to relax our vigilance about infection. Never losing sight of the tube hanging out of Babygirl's belly and the horrific risks it posed. The fights with insurance to get things paid for. Not knowing if we could keep our heads above water financially well enough to keep her alive. Not being able, ever, even once, to keep her pain-free for a single one of those 166 nights. Knowing that my child would frequently suffer that pain in silence so I could sleep. And that I would let her.
Babygirl was ELEVEN years old. Eleven. She was given the blessed gift of eleven years of childhood. And for the most part, her childhood ended with dialysis.
Oh, don't get me wrong. I understand that she is still a child. But she is not a carefree child. She has to 'be careful' and not forget 'she can't have that' or 'can't do that'. At a birthday party yesterday there were lovely platters of strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and sliced watermelon. She could have none of it (until our thoughtful hostess prepared a special platter of watermelon just for her). Things everyone else takes for granted are forbidden, restricted, limited. She has to plan WAY ahead. Do we have enough meds with us to do that extra two hours of play or to stop and eat dinner out instead of at home? And she pays a price in pain for more things than anyone who doesn't know her well can begin to imagine. And for the most part she does it with a gracious smile on her beautiful face.
I try, really really really try not to borrow trouble, or to look ahead at what I know is coming. But it sends chills down my spine when I face the fact that someday she'll need dialysis again. Don't tell me how 'lucky' or 'blessed' I am. I know those things are true more deeply than anyone. But I know first hand what blessings cost.
DeeDee
I don't know why my mind was fixed on dialysis yesterday. Certainly there were more fun things on offer! But sometimes you just have to let the evil memories roll. It's part of the healing process, I guess.
Babygirl was on dialysis for 166 days. It was less than half a year. Yet it yawns in my memory as a much, much longer time. We were exhausted. We were stressed. We were always afraid. And every single phone call was a heart-racing adrenal-squeezing event. I can feel my chest tighten and my breath quicken just thinking about it all.
It's really difficult to discuss. It was stressful in such a multitude of ways impossible to narrow down what specifically was the MOST stressful about it. Not ever really sleeping. Not ever even for a minute being able to relax our vigilance about infection. Never losing sight of the tube hanging out of Babygirl's belly and the horrific risks it posed. The fights with insurance to get things paid for. Not knowing if we could keep our heads above water financially well enough to keep her alive. Not being able, ever, even once, to keep her pain-free for a single one of those 166 nights. Knowing that my child would frequently suffer that pain in silence so I could sleep. And that I would let her.
Babygirl was ELEVEN years old. Eleven. She was given the blessed gift of eleven years of childhood. And for the most part, her childhood ended with dialysis.
Oh, don't get me wrong. I understand that she is still a child. But she is not a carefree child. She has to 'be careful' and not forget 'she can't have that' or 'can't do that'. At a birthday party yesterday there were lovely platters of strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and sliced watermelon. She could have none of it (until our thoughtful hostess prepared a special platter of watermelon just for her). Things everyone else takes for granted are forbidden, restricted, limited. She has to plan WAY ahead. Do we have enough meds with us to do that extra two hours of play or to stop and eat dinner out instead of at home? And she pays a price in pain for more things than anyone who doesn't know her well can begin to imagine. And for the most part she does it with a gracious smile on her beautiful face.
I try, really really really try not to borrow trouble, or to look ahead at what I know is coming. But it sends chills down my spine when I face the fact that someday she'll need dialysis again. Don't tell me how 'lucky' or 'blessed' I am. I know those things are true more deeply than anyone. But I know first hand what blessings cost.
DeeDee
Friday, July 5, 2013
Third Year, Week 11 - Perfect Summer Days.....
I'd forgotten that I asked for the afternoon of July 3rd off. It happens. I checked my Wednesday schedule at the end of Tuesday and was delighted to realize that Babygirl and I could leave home sooner than expected.
We arrived at 'our' amusement park late in the afternoon and found it nearly deserted. We hiked the mile in to ride our favorite coaster (we didn't have to wait even a second to sit in the last car), and stopped at the 'wet rides' along the way. It's the first time she's done the big splash down ride - usually it's far too cool for us to want to wander around soaking wet. We also managed the white-water raft ride. Right after THAT soaking, we hiked into the water park section, only to discover that they were near to closing. So in the 17 minutes that we had, we threw ourselves onto inner tubes and floated on the lazy river. Twice. It was warm, comfortable and as relaxing as a massage.
We stopped for dinner on the way home at a place I've been intrigued by the look of the for years as we pass it on our way to the highway - a large, traditional-looking 1950's style diner. The food was good, the chrome shiny inside and out, and it was more affordable than any meal inside the park would be.
The Fourth was lovely - warm and breezy. We spent much of the day on Aunt Kelly's front porch enjoying the wonderful fresh air. And those Bolivian dancers! What a great parade. Someday I want to come to Philadelphia for the Mummer's Parade on New Year's Day. It's so much fun to see a few string bands, I can't imagine how awesome it would be to see dozens of them!
This morning dawned sunny with a gentle breeze as well. I think we'll be able to do some water rides on our way home, although I expect the park might have quite a few (thousand) more people in it than it did two days ago.
The little gaps in our 'real lives' matter so much. The rain and storms of our long spring this year have made summer feel like it hasn't really started until now. The gifts of time, sunshine, family, friends and joy are as rare. Having all of those things together in one place at the same time: Priceless. This gift of repetitive lovely renewing weekends has been amazing. Even if it leaves me with my hair standing on end from pool water.
DeeDee
We arrived at 'our' amusement park late in the afternoon and found it nearly deserted. We hiked the mile in to ride our favorite coaster (we didn't have to wait even a second to sit in the last car), and stopped at the 'wet rides' along the way. It's the first time she's done the big splash down ride - usually it's far too cool for us to want to wander around soaking wet. We also managed the white-water raft ride. Right after THAT soaking, we hiked into the water park section, only to discover that they were near to closing. So in the 17 minutes that we had, we threw ourselves onto inner tubes and floated on the lazy river. Twice. It was warm, comfortable and as relaxing as a massage.
We stopped for dinner on the way home at a place I've been intrigued by the look of the for years as we pass it on our way to the highway - a large, traditional-looking 1950's style diner. The food was good, the chrome shiny inside and out, and it was more affordable than any meal inside the park would be.
The Fourth was lovely - warm and breezy. We spent much of the day on Aunt Kelly's front porch enjoying the wonderful fresh air. And those Bolivian dancers! What a great parade. Someday I want to come to Philadelphia for the Mummer's Parade on New Year's Day. It's so much fun to see a few string bands, I can't imagine how awesome it would be to see dozens of them!
This morning dawned sunny with a gentle breeze as well. I think we'll be able to do some water rides on our way home, although I expect the park might have quite a few (thousand) more people in it than it did two days ago.
The little gaps in our 'real lives' matter so much. The rain and storms of our long spring this year have made summer feel like it hasn't really started until now. The gifts of time, sunshine, family, friends and joy are as rare. Having all of those things together in one place at the same time: Priceless. This gift of repetitive lovely renewing weekends has been amazing. Even if it leaves me with my hair standing on end from pool water.
DeeDee
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
A Doctor-Free Journey......
Each year we travel to Philly for the 4th of July. Picnics with family, parades and fireworks are part of our usual tradition, from long before Babygirl's kidney failure and transplant. Two years ago we had to scold Uncle Joe for giving Babygirl a Monster drink without reading the ingredients label (kids in kidney failure cannot have potassium-laced drinks!). Last year we fit the celebration in between doctor visits. This year we get to go simply for the fun of it!
What a blessing it is to simply be able to celebrate with family and friends without the hypervigilance that has marked our past two years! I'm looking forward to drinking wine from a red Solo cup and watching the handsome Bolivian folk dancers march in the Glenside parade. Babygirl and I might get to enjoy the waterpark side of our favorite amusement park on the way home!
I'm stoked.
Deedee
What a blessing it is to simply be able to celebrate with family and friends without the hypervigilance that has marked our past two years! I'm looking forward to drinking wine from a red Solo cup and watching the handsome Bolivian folk dancers march in the Glenside parade. Babygirl and I might get to enjoy the waterpark side of our favorite amusement park on the way home!
I'm stoked.
Deedee
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)