Adventures in Freelance Insanity ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Civility Sorry if I have disappointed my legions of fans by not posting lately. Enough. I had to write this because this is my outlet for saying shit I cannot say in my life. There are people who deserve a good bitchslap. There are people who are assholes. These are their stories. For the old lady co-worker (and it's relevant because i cannot bring myself to actually smack an old lady) who listened to me complain about Face not sleeping and said "Maybe it's because he knows he has to get as much as he can in now." Fuck you. Second on the list is my son's stepmother, who went from being an alright person to being a bitch Id love to kill. Fine, she was always mean to me, making fun of me to my son, criticizing me and my parenting to my son, creating awkward social situations because she refuses to be in the same room with me. In case you were wondering, I have said and done nothing to her, ever. She has always been upset with me because she wishes her husband did not have a past. I swear. But I put up with her because she was sweet to my son, she watched movies with him and took him places and he liked her. About a year ago she changed her mind and decided she hated my son too. She told him that she didnt see him often enough so she didnt really care about him anymore. (I found this out a few months ago but I let her live anyway). The kicker was when, after interrogating my son I found out that she refuses to feed him. She cooks dinner every night for herself, and eats it, but my son has to wait until 11 PM when his dad gets home from work to eat. Hey, fuck you too. And by the way, there are some things that send you straight to hell and refusing to feed kids in your care is one of them. You are a cunt. And her bitching about her husband's "past" (ie, me, our son, and child support) has lead my ass of an ex to become an even bigger asshole (not that he needed much help). Last weekend he sat Terror down and told him that he was going to talk to me about giving Terror up because he just couldnt afford to pay child support anymore. He said he was sorry and he wished it could be different but maybe they could see each other again when Terror was older. Can I just tell you that my heart was broken? Is there any way you can watch your kids hurt and not have it break your heart. I know his dad being an asshole is not my fault but damn, we are both paying the price for me choosing him. This also enraged me to no end. I couldnt even answer my son about this for a few days because I thought "Fuck that motherfucker" would not be particularily helpful. And it's pretty much all I could come up with. After a day or so I talked to Terror about the fact that there was no "give up your kids" place and how bad he must be feeling and reassured him that I would work 7 jobs to keep him with me and told him that his dad must me very desperate to say something like that and that his dad would always regret it and it was a prime example of making a bad mistake through desperation. Or some bullshit so that my son could maybe find a way to not feel like it was his fault. I dont know how succesful I was. At the end of our little talk I asked him if there was anything I could do to make him feel better and he said "Not really. But I feel better after what you said." So maybe I did okay. What I really want to do (barring time travel) is beat that asshole until he really DOES feel bad. I say all this because this weekend my son will turn 15 and will receive his confirmation and I have invited his dad and stepmother to attend. We will all be sitting down to eat across a table and be polite and make small talk and joke and be oh-so civilized as we celebrate. And the whole time I will be thinking that civility is definatly overrated. Wish me luck. Ill try to Be Quick Saturday night (of course!) Face suddenly started to leak everywhere and sound like a baby smoker. Screaming, crying, not able to breathe too well. I became the happiest mother of a sick kid you ever saw. I dosed him as much as possible until Monday and the pediatrician laughed right at me as I beamed with joy. "He has an ear infection." "Okay" Beam, beam. "He also has some kind of viral infection, maybe even RSV." "Okay." Beam, beam. "Can he sleep like this? Has he slept?" "Let me see" I pull out my notes "We slept 2 hours Saturday night and 3 hours last night." Regards me somewhat warily "You seem awful happy for someone who only had 3 hours of sleep." "Well, doc, it's like this - Ill take broncitis. Ill take strep. Ill take RSV. Ill even take pnemonia. Ear infection, bring it on! Ill take em all, as long as you keep the heart failure." He smiles back at me. "Ah. Well then, enjoy your ear infection and call me if his breathing gets worse." Sadly, his breathing DID get worse and we just got out of the hospital. Whatever he had I also had, as did his big brother. It kicked all our asses. I rated it worse than a sinus infection, not as bad as an abcess. It sucked, it bit, it blew chunks. Face puked on me, pooped on me, screamed at me in a rage because he was not pleased with some aspects of hospital care. I hurt, ached, fevered, and awoke every day on a hard couch to a roomful of cute residents rounding (it's really humiliating but Im used to it by now). I dont recommend getting whatever this thing was that landed my baby in the hospital. But through it all, I am filled with joy that hopefully few parents will know. The joy of perspective. It's not heart failure, and that RULES! And as soon as I stop sounding like Harvey Kitel, I'll be back. 11:43 a.m. - 2006-10-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For My Own Amusement The ER triage nurse was busy, the waiting room was packed. I sit down. She asks about symptoms. I tell her our pediatrician sent us because she believed he was in respitory distress. History? she asks. I pull out my notebook. She rolls her eyes and snaps "Just the big, important stuff". It is totally in my nature to provide a sarcastic retort but I dont, cause the waiting room IS full and Im sure my list will be reprimand enough. I snap out (like a rapper) "VSD Ventricular Septal Defect, DORV, Double outlet right ventrical, HLHS, Hypoplastic left ventrical, TGA, Transposition of the Great Arteries, COARC, Coarctation of the Aorta, AA/NA. And not "Big" but torticullis, severe constipation, reflux, prior stroke and VRE by blood and urine." I went too fast and we have to go back. Liek I said, reprimand enough. I also get a look when I list ketamine as an allergy. I know she was afraid that my ntoebook was a list of every time he popped or everything he ate since he was born but her eye roll served to remind me that with medical professionals you can never win. Prepare a great little book for complicated diagnoses, get an eyeroll. Dont have a book and maybe you leave out something big - doing this post I couldnt remember what AA or NA stand for - maybe that would vital to them and that's why I carry the book in the first place. Memory is faulty. Be an advocate and you are being "difficult". Follow everything your doctor says and get blamed for not being an advocate. So I cant win, I take the eye roll for my book the same way I take the compliments my tiny, organized book has engendered in other ER personnel - with a grain of salt. And when it's your kid's helath on the line, it's all "big" and "important". Then yesterday he woke up from his nap and when I picked him up he laid his head on my shoulder for 20 minutes. Never has my son, even in sleep, been still for 20 minutes. I called his dad and he said "Take him to the hospital." He was sort of joking, because our boy is NEVER tired, never just lays there. Funny the things that annoy you so badly about your kid you cant wait to have back when you face the alternative. I take him to the doctor, thinking ear infection, cold - he really seemed fine besides the tiredness (and low fever and crankiness - hey, river, Egypt, all that). Respitory distress. Off to BHOE (Best Hospital on Earth). He is sating very low (70s) but as soon as they get him hooked up in a room - 93. 93!! I told them I wanted to steal the monitor cause the last time I saw a 93 was in January. Why do people always think Im kidding when Im deadly serious? Im so stealing that monitor. Anyway, I figured - he seems fine, sats eventually settled at 84 (norm for him), he looks good, send us home. X-ray of lungs, good - slight fluid in right lung which, I swear, he has had since he was born. Not kidding. Not a single x-ray of this kid with clean lungs. So little fluid, no biggie. Send us home! Cardio comes in, hems haws, hems again, trims a little. And like osmosis, without a word being spoken directly, I finally realize he is thinking: Heart. Of course. Lethargic, sporadic breathing difficulties, disinterest in eating (tho drinking fine) low grade temp. Like a beginning checklist for heart failure. Unfortunatly, nothing anyone can really point to and say yes, yes that's it. But he's clearly so uncomfortable about sending us home yet reluctant to keep us. He wants to tie me to 4,000 promises of things I will do (schedule immediate echo, ins and outs, doctors appointments every other day). Yet amazingly the words "heart failure" have never crossed his lips. I want to tell him I can take it, but I would be lying. They have told me "your son has an MRSA", "your son has rotovirus", "your son's lungs are full of fluid" "his shunt has closed" and various and sundry bad things but the only time I completely lost it was when the doc, misreading an x-ray, said "Congestive heart failure". Dont ask me why I think I can fix the others, breeze on thru, no problem, but obviously deep down I think they can fix those, I think those are no big deal. So Im glad he didnt say it. We're home now, and Im hoping it's a lung infection, that we caught the beginning of a lung infection, or his aortic arch is too narrow and he needs a balloon angioplasty. What kind of life do I have that I think a balloon angio is no big deal? But I really dont think it is. River, Eygpt. I am so prejudiced against people who are "stressed". Even though I know better, it sounds like such a lame excuse. I probably had more sleep last night than I usually get. I feel like weights are attached to every part of my body. Staying awake has been my biggest challange today. Im so glad that Im scared of illegal drug addiction cause otherwise I would be doing lines or something, anything to make holding my eyelids open less of a struggle. This is what you do on the day after you've been stressed to the max and arnt totally out of the woods:
Make up silly songs and games that teach him bad habits you will have to correct later. Put "While You Were Out" or "Trading Spaces" on tv - nothing that would get you upset and pretty entertaining. Will not wake up baby when he falls asleep. Let Face eat as many crackers as he wants right on the living room floor because today, daddy wont care if he makes a mess. Tempt him with his favorite foods and let him eat only his favorite things all day. Lay down towels under the duck bath and have a bath in the living room. When Face sleeps much more and longer than he should all day lay on the couch and dont do dishes, wash, or work. Just lay there. Consider all day making margueritas but being too lazy to actually do it. Maybe later. Force myself to answer emails, defrost meat for dinner, and write this. Its all about staying awake, baby. This could all be nothing. Or not. For now, I think I'll make myself a marguerita and tell everyone it's just a cold. Egypt aint such a bad place to be. 8:36 a.m. - 2006-09-20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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