Whoever said success tastes good?

It feels like a Monday today. Because it's the first day of something new.

Turtle had a hospital appointment yesterday. It was an 8am appointment in Omaha, which is an hour and a half from here (in our van, faster with a different vehicle probably). We dressed the kids the night before so we could carry them from the bed to the car in the morning without too much bother.

The Infectious Disease Dr told us his labs are looking good and since his knee isn't as swollen, she thought it was time to take his PICC out. I didn't want to believe it, it seemed to good to be true. The IV treatments had been taking over our lives. Through the day and night, trying to get him to stay still on the bed while I pumped the meds through, an hr and half at a time. And all the home nurse appointments, dressing changes, blood draws were all getting old. His skin is so red raw from the dressing, it looks horribly painful and he signs sore next to it a few times a day.

So when they took his PICC out and sent us out with oral antibiotics to give him 2 varieties, 3 times a day for 2-3 weeks, I skipped into the waiting room and greeted Rene with a huge grin, singing:

I've got no strings to hold me down

To make me fret, or make me frown



I had strings



But now I'm free
There are no strings on me





I was so happy to be done with the tubes and the pump and the syringes. I was elated.

The feeling lasted until I attempted to give him his first dose of clindamycin. They gave him it in capsules to break apart and put in food to disguise the flavor, apparently the liquid tastes worse.



I am telling you now, I can't believe it's true because I highly doubt it's possible for anything on earth to taste worse. This is the most disgusting substance known to man. I'd rather drink a pint of gasoline than to take a dose of clindamycin. I'm not exaggerating.

I was singing to myself, unknowing of the trauma I was about to encounter, mixing up a pot of organic butterscotch pudding to put his capsule into. Turtle was resting on my hip watching me stir, inhaling deeply while puffs of sweet fragrance drifted up to his nostrils. He was kicking his legs, staring at the pot and vocalizing his approval, "yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah YEAH!"

Finally it was ready and cool enough to eat. I put it in a bowl while his patience wore completely out and drool formed in his mouth. Then I opened the capsule and poured it in his bowl. There was a little of the power left, I wanted to test its potency so I put a tiny bit on my finger tip and tasted it.

My tongue immediately reacted to the assault and began trying to make me gag. My eyes almost burst out of my head from the pressure it took to stop me from yelling out in disgust. It seemed that the whole room air was filled with the most intense foul, bitter flavor that I was hopeless to get rid of. In desperation, I began throwing miscellaneous food and drink items in my mouth. I brushed my teeth and swished mouth wash around. But everything I tried tasted like clindamycin, it twas as though I were piling more of the stuff in there with every new attempt to flush it out. The flavor hung around for a few hours yet.

Sacrificially, I tasted some of the medication-from-hell/pudding mixture. It was at least as vile as the initial fingertip sample I had endured. I added tons of raw honey....nope, no improvement. Half a bottle of maple syrup. This is one expensive bowl of pudding! Still just as offensive. The stuff is sharp enough, it will penetrate any flavor. It's undefeatable and nondisguisable. It's the super bad guy of yucky, no no, it's the super hero good guy, because the good guys always win and clindamycin will not be conquered.

I managed to get him to take 2 bites of the stuff, by some miracle. And that was all he was going to open up for. I seriously don't blame him. You can't imagine how disgusting this stuff is.

So today is the start of a new era. Administering drugs through the PICC is a thing of the past, replaced now with trying to force this stuff down him for the next 2-3 weeks, 3 times a day.

We bought tons of unhealthy, strongly flavored and sugared food we'd never give our kids otherwise.



This morning I tried splitting it in 3. One third went into the nutella, another into apple sauce and the last into chocolate pudding. Bless his heart, he tried 2 bites of each of them. I don't know if he'll ever trust me to feed him again. But he'd better, because he's just about due his second dose...




If anyone has any tips on how to make this stuff more...survivable, please let me know and I'll love you forever (how's that for motivation. Everybody needs love). Cause the way it's going just now, he's missing a lot of doses, which is not a good situation. And this might very well put him off of eating ever again, which wouldn't be great either.

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So far so good...

Still no fevers! He had one low grade fever just below the cut off point. They are planning to take him to get the PICC in today at 11.30 which means maybe home tomorrow!! Possibly even today. This is the first I've heard them throw around the word "home" so much. I'm so excited I had to post. This has been a loooong few days and I'm so ready to get home.

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God answers prayers!

We've been so overwhelmed with support. People bringing gift boxes and food and flowers and arranging meals. Kind messages. And most of all prayers. My boy has been added to so many prayer chains and personal prayer lists. It's very touching. We are grateful. And God is listening.

Turtle went under the knife again today and apparently there is not much pus left to drain. Dr thinks he got it all. There is still a chance Glenn might need repeat surgery to drain his thigh because there was some up there that he couldn't reach, but they hope it won't be necessary. The cultures are still inconclusive so they are starting new ones. And they are baffled by it. They're holding meetings to all talk about it because they've never seen this before. But, whatever it is, it seems that the antibiotics are killing it! Thanks God! He's fighting it and getting better.

We're still in isolation, but it all looks like there's a light at the end of the tunnel. As soon as we are fever free for 48 hours they will put in his PICC and we're good to go. Still doesn't look like we'll be home this weekend but maybe early next week.

For now, he is in a leftover drug induced deep sleep on my right arm, making my fingers go numb but I daren't move him. He looks like an angel, all wrapped up in his pastel yellow blanket with his long lashes kissing his chubby little cheeks while he meows in his sleep. No I didn't intend to say "purrs" but messed up. He is actually meowing in his sleep. Good dream I guess. He keeps my mouth upturned and my spirits uplifted for sure.




------

Quick update...there is a *chance* he might get the PICC in tomorrow and discharge on Saturday. So far no fever, but the surgery today might yet cause a spike...We really don't want it to! Not that it would be anything to worry about, but it would delay hometime. I'm getting my hopes up now....

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I guess there was a moral to the story after all

Remember this post?

Turns out my instincts were right after all. He did have something very wrong with his leg, and there wasn't an accident or something that I missed.

The story starts Thursday night. He started limping again and complaining that he was sore. Since the ER had said it was probably a muscle strain and they could do nothing we decided on Friday to call and make an appointment with a chiropractor. The appointment was set for Tuesday. But by Saturday morning it was still sore and we thought it seemed more serious than just a muscle pain. So we took him to the walk in clinic.

A few hours of chasing incredibly ansty kids around the waiting room later and an uncomfortable blood test later we were sent home with a prescription for amoxycilin.

By Sunday he couldn't bare weight on it and it was swelling and red and hot and he was getting fevers which came and went. We watched him carefully all day and by evening we decided it was just getting worse, so we took him in to the ER.

ER was busy. Zoe and busy ER waiting rooms don't go well together, so we learned. We got there at 6.30 pm and he was finally taken through to be seen at 9pm. In the interim Zoe had crawled under chairs, messed with people's catheters, ran out the front doors, jumped off of tables, upturned tables, climbed up walls, rattled door handles, pulled emergency cables in the bathroom, screamed her head off and continuously bolted down the hospital corridor. She is much faster than her fat, unfit mother and it must be highly amusing to watch me flop around with a red frustrated face while I do my very darnest to run as fast as I can down this very long corridor, reaching my hand out in front of me, inches away from catching her, Zoe flying a couple paces ahead of me with a look of utter excitement and laughing an evil laugh, soaking up the thrill of the chase all the while.

When they called "Glenn" at 9pm we were so relieved. Rene had the privilege of remaining with the 3 girls in the waiting room while I sat in the chair in the ER ward with a sleeping baby, waiting for the Drs to come. They did some more xrays and took some more blood, then at midnight they told us we'd have to transfer to the ER at the Children's hospital in Omaha. I was a little shocked to be honest.

We carted 3 exhausted, hungry (hadn't had supper), confused kids in the car and started our 75 minute journey into Omaha. When we got there, Rene sat with the girls in the waiting room again, but this time they were all sleeping and it was much easier!! By 4am we were admitted and the other half of my family went to spend the night in the rainbow house nearby.

Turns out he has a violent bacterial infection in his knee. They were concerned that it had been going on for 3 weeks and one major worry was that he'd have permanent damage to his cartilage. Monday afternoon he went under general anesthetic and they did an MRI on his tissue and then cut open his knee to remove as much pus as they could and then inserted a drainage tube.

Rene and the kids were back in Lincoln gathering some supplies. He had the day off on Monday but his PTO is all used up. So we knew he'd have to return to work. I was hoping at first that this would be like an outpatient thing, they'd drain it then send us home. I sat in the waiting room while he had the surgery. I haven't felt so alone in a long time. I am used to constantly having a huge to do list with usually 4-5 things on that list at any given time that are of utmost urgency, or at least appear that way to young children. I am used to always having a sock to pick up or a drink to pour or a bum to wipe or someone who needs a hug or a fight to break up or a spilled box of cereal to sweep up...you get the picture.

Suddenly my girls weren't there. My soul mate wasn't there. And my boy was being cut open. He had been poked and prodded so much by this point and had looked up at me with begging eyes while men and women with coats poked and prodded and hurt him, and we were both starting to grow slightly desensitized to that palaver. They had given him a relaxant before they took him away and it made him "drunk". He gazed up at me and laughed his head off. His laughter was contagious. He had no idea what was about to happen to him and my laughter was accompanied by involuntary tears. But his giggling, happy, woozy face was beautiful. And then I had to walk away. Walk away from my handsome, little, euphoric comedian, walk through the double doors, around the corner down the elevator and into a waiting room and sit. And wait. There was a TV on which irritated me, so I sat at the other side of the room, with a fish tank and I made many cups of coffee (Yes, I hate coffee, but I was tired and I needed something to mess with) and watched the fish and tried to let my mind go numb. I heard other families talk about the horrible things they are going through with their kids' long term conditions and I was so thankful that this is not as serious. And I was in awe at their strength. They all talked so matter of fact while their kids were in surgery for the umpteenth time and here I felt like the lonliness and fear and lack of control in this situation was crushing my lungs.

I paced the floor a couple of times in the few hours I was down there, but mostly, I just sat and watched the fish. I prayed. And I waited. And then the surgeon came to talk to me. He took me into the little room and explained how the procedure went. They think they got all the pus but they are not sure, there are some pockets left. I stared into the surgeon's clear eyes while he explained it to me in a velvety, hypnotic voice and I nodded. It all seemed to make sense. We won't be certain for a while, but it looks as though there is no cartilage damage. That's very good news. There were excessive amounts of white blood cells and the infection looks aggressive. They are suspicious it might be STAPH/MRSA (superbug) but it might possibly be kingella. It will take a few days to get cultures back until we know for certain, so we will treat for both just now. I flinched a little at hearing MRSA. I nodded and took it all in and figured I'd deal with the emotion aspect later on, when I'm alone again. Suddenly I really wanted to be alone. He continued speaking about plans of action and technicalities that I tried to grasp but the words were flying all over the place by now and my internal dialog was getting obnoxiously loud.

And then he said, "so he'll be staying here for 4-5 days minimum, ok?". My cool, calm, monotone "OK" was automatic but came out so fast and forcedly that it was obviously a lie. I was not ok. My head started to spin and the previous night's lack of sleep all hit me at once. The room was very bright and I was suddenly aware of the rhythm of my heart pounding through my chest. I focussed all my energy on getting through the rest of the conversation. Just make it through this discussion without looking like a fool. I couldn't really hear anything else he said. He got up and held to door for me. I thanked him and walked towards to box of tissues on the desk at the other side of the room. As soon as I had taken 3 steps the tears started rolling, silently. I felt eyes burning into me from all over the waiting room. Eyes of parents who are going through far worse than we are, and are holding it together much better than I am. I finally made it to the tissues, forcing my gullet to be silent and putting my energy into keeping my lungs from heaving. The box was empty. "There's another box over there maam", said the Dad who was waiting to hear if his daughter has Cycstic Fibrosis. "Keep it in perspective Niecey", I told myself.

I grabbed a handful of tissues from the other box and bolted to the ladies room where I cried my eyes out. The kind of cry that feels like an abdominal work out. It's not just from the eyes or the lungs. The kind of cry that makes other people in the ladies room wonder what the heck is going on in there. The kind of cry that leaves your eyes looking like someone removed them, dropped them in acid for a few minutes them put them back in place and it takes at least an hour before they go back to their normal color. I cried and I contemplated who we could ask to look after my girls while Rene was at work. I imagined them going to bed without their customary kisses and cuddles and stories from Mum. I asked God to help me get through the next 4-5 days only seeing my beautiful girls for 1-2 hours in the evening. Then I toughened myself up and committed to just coping with this an hour at a time.

And that's where we're at now. The kids are with our awesome, amazing neighbor through the day, then Daddy picks them up, grabs supper and comes out to see us for about 1.5 hours before heading home and crashing out. Everyone is tired. We are still waiting for cultures to see if this is MRSA or not. He is in isolation here, so everyone has to wear masks and vests. They are going to put a PICC IV in him, but haven't been able to get his temp low enough to do it yet. And he might need another MRI and drainage surgery tomorrow.

Ever since we turned the calendar page to February, Zoe has been counting down the days until her birthday. She had the order of events all planned out and told me about it multiple times a day. "I will wake up then open my pwesents. Then we going to a pirate show, then we can come home and have Strawberry Shortcake cake with Strawberry Shortcake and Custard and Friends and a rock." She's been so excited and I've been playing it up big time too. I wanted to make a huge deal out of it to help her know how special she is to me. And now I might not even be there. She turns 3 on Sunday. We are considering postponing her birthday without letting her know. I'm not sure ethically how that would sit....

I miss them so badly, I long to be running around pulling my hair out over Zoe and her mischief. It drives me wild sometimes, but the girls are my life.

Turtle is in very high spirits today. They took him off fluids because he's keeping foods down and he's no longer on all the monitors. If he gets the surgery again tomorrow he'll be hooked up to everything again, but for now he's free and I can hold him and feed him. He has a huge cast thing on his leg so it's awkward, but it's not hurting him too bad. And we're just waiting. Waiting to find out which bacteria it is for sure. Waiting to see if the treatment is working or if the bacteria is spreading. Waiting to see when we get to go home.

Prayers would be much appreciated. They are not too worried about him, he's certainly not in critical care. But it could get serious. It's aggressive and they are treating it aggressively. Specifically I'd love prayers that the antibiotics will work, that he won't have any more fever today so he can get the PICC line in tomorrow (otherwise they have to wait and each day means an extra day we have to stay here), that I will be able to handle the hospital stay, emotionally and that Rene and the girls will be happy and sleep well.

Thanks for reading this. I mostly typed it up for my own benefit. To help me process it. I see so many sick kids around me and I am reminded how blessed we are to have the health we have. I hate missing the girls and I hate seeing my poor boy as helpless as he is here.




But we'll get through. He's a tough kid, and has such a gentle spirit. It will help him heal. And so will the prayers and the love. I am not leaving his side.

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The morning after the day before

Thank you all so much for the kind messages, e-mails, comments and thoughts and prayers.

It couldn't have gone any better than it did. Well, I guess I *could* have won the lottery too, but lets not get carried away now.

We dropped the girls off at the farm in the morning, expecting it to be for a couple hours then Rene would come pick them back up. Then we got to the hospital and they put an enormous gown on me and some funky slipper socks which I *hope* I was supposed to keep because I sort of did. Heck it costs thousands of dollars, the least they can do is throw in a free pair of socks, right? They started the iv etc and everyone loved cooing at Turtle who was grinning and saying, "yeah" to everyone and soaking up the attention. He is just like his Daddy! It was wonderful to have them both there. I'm such a nervous wreck without my husband and I feel naked without my kids. So at least I could still be in mommy mode which helped me feel authentic. So a huge thank you to Laura Chisholm for her awesome friendship and willingness to put up with my kids for so long, and make gingerbread houses with them and let them wreck your house and feed them.

Rene decided he didn't want to leave my side so he called Laura and asked her to keep them for longer.

Everyone was making preparations for me to spend the night, telling me where my room would be and getting ready to move our belongings etc. The Dr had acted like he was stretching it to do me a favor by making it only one night. I think he expected more complications because of my weight. More issues with the anesthesia and more layers to cut through so more potential issues there. But he didn't anticipate that I had an army of prayer warriors on my side.

They wheeled me through to the big creepy white and blue room full of machines and an insane number of busy people all making preps for my surgery, and I got scared and said lots of stupid things. Thankfully I had my glasses off so I was blind as a bat which helped me stay sort of oblivious. Soon I was fast asleep and the next hour or so is hazy. They gave me some morphine and hydrocodone so I felt pretty good.

I felt even better when Rene and Turtle came back in to brighten up the room. And they told me it went surprisingly well, and since i had a note on the papers to say I was *depserate* to go home as soon as possible they could get my discharge papers ready and send me home! Woohoo. So no sleeping in the hospital alone for me.

I came home, woozy and sleepy, then got insomnia. Oh well. Kaya was almost disappointed to see me because she had prepped herself to miss me and made me beautiful cards and had me take these photos before I left so she'd remember me.



It was a bit anticlimactic for her I think. But Lana and Zoe were excited to see me and cuddle in bed and watch a movie while Rene cooked ordered supper. And I know Rene, who has a sore head and is getting a cold, appreciated having me here to help with Turtle who didn't do a lot of sleeping last night. I hate to think of him being on his own dealing with a non sleeping babe who wants nothing but his mama.

And even better news...I'm still holding my breath about it, but we've been told we *may* not have the preexisting conditions clause because of a group policy issue. And we may be able to get financial assistance from the hospital because of our income level. That would be wonderful.. especially since the hospital website states these surgeries can cost between $8000-$30000 which is an unimaginable amount of money. We'll see how that works out.

I'm not in too much pain, mostly discomfort. But compared to the gallbladder pain I was having before this is a breeze. I'll be on meds for a few days and will take it easy. But I'm HOME! I have my weekend with my family! I am so thrilled. It's over and done with and wasn't too bad at all. I'm sure it has everything to do with your prayers.


A big holla to Laura Chisholm for winning the day.

Have a great weekend, peeps.

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cold and sick

It's cold outside in Nebraska. -3 today (-19 Celsius) with a wind chill of up to -25 (-31 Celsius). It's "I feel like my fingers will snap off" cold. It's "when I breath this air it's like my lungs fill up with death" cold.

And we're all sick. Yesterday it was just Rene, Kaya and I. Puking, fevers, chills, sinus issues, crying and praying it will just end. It's miserable. I was hoping it would be gone by now, these things usually only last 24 hours. But we're still miserable today. And I think Zoe and Lana are joining in today. Haven't puked yet but they're sleeping like crazy and not moving.

The house is a total mess, we were lying around yesterday while Zoe and Lana trashed the place. Banana peels everywhere. We just are not up to cleaning it yet. I hope that when we recover from this that will be it over and done with for this winter.


On a plus, it's expected to snow tomorrow. 90% chance. 2-4 inches. Surely they won't cheat us out of it this time.

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Pain

Ow. I have a history of bouts of abdominal pain which was suspected to be caused by gall stones. It was never properly investigated though (the NHS had a waiting list).

A week and a half ago I started having these pains again. I was up all night throwing up and praying that this pain in my stomach would go away. It did but came back again last night.

It's right where my stomach is, right at the top in the center. It's like cramps that come in waves, and man it hurts. Severely sore and debilitating. Rene was getting ready to leave this morning when he saw me doubled over and unable to even read the package on the motrin because I just couldn't focus for that long.

So he stayed home from work and took me to the Dr. I was so hesitant because we truly just can't afford the medical bills just now. But I couldn't take the pain anymore. So I went.

The Dr suspected a condition that causes stomach ulcers but ruled it out with a blood test. So he sent me off to hospital for an ultrasound. The pains had stopped by then but my upper abdomen was very tender and the ultrasound was very uncomfortable.

It came back negative. No gall stones, stomach looked fine, kidneys fine.

I don't know what the heck is wrong. They're going to investigate the gall bladder thing further, with some test. But it might effect breastfeeding and I don't know how to get around that. I have to drink some stuff that's not safe for baby. Meanwhile he wants me to try prilosec. I don't believe it's an indigestion thing, I've had loads of heartburn etc in pregnancies before and this is entirely different. I don't believe it's gall bladder either since it isn't on the right hand side.

Anyway I'm confused, sore and disappointed. I feel guilty to have cost time (away from work) and money and no results. Not feeling very thrilled right now.

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The stent is out

Lana's stent came all the way out yesterday. So that's it. It doesn't seem irritated or anything, thankfully. I wish it would have stayed in for longer, but these things happen I guess. Now we just watch and wait and see if it seems to have worked or if it will block itself back up again.....

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Lana's stent

The stent that Lana had inserted in her eye on Monday has dislodged itself and is sticking onto her eyeball now. Poor girl, it's really irritating her.

The Dr had warned us over and over not to let her rub her eye or nose and Lana was doing great at that. But she was in the wading pool, and I think she splashed it and rubbed it instinctively because it was wet.I hadn't realised it was quite that delicate.

So we're sitting back hoping it stays in as long as possible. It was supposed to be in for 3-4 months, then they'd remove it. It hasn't even lasted a week yet. The Dr said the longer it stays in the better, and he said if it sticks outside, they can tape it to her nose, which sounds awkward. The longer it stays in, the more chance of her tear duct staying open afterwards. So we just want to keep it in as long as we can. I sure don't want to have put her through all that for nothing.

Now if it does come out after Monday, we're no longer insured. Joy joy. We've submitted an application for medicaid so hopefully we can backdate things to cover this period if we're found eligible. They said it can take 45 days to process the application. Sometimes I do miss the NHS. Mind you, on the NHS we had to wait on a waiting list for months and months just to see an eye specialist, so I guess there are pros and cons.

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Lana's surgery today

Lana had her eye surgery today. She was fasting from last night and we woke her at 5.30 this morning to get ready to leave. She complained a little of being hungry but not too much.

When we got there, Kaya and Zoe were going crazy so Rene took them away to breakfast while I got settled in with Lana. She got in her gown right away and played with some toys, then switched on the TV and was mesmorized with playhouse Disney.

I wasn't overly impressed with the staff. It felt like someone new walked in every minute to give me conflicting information. And they seemed to expect me to sign consent forms without reading them! I had to practically pry one away from a nurse's hands at one point to read it first.

They wouldn't let me go through with Lana for her to have the gas to put her to sleep. So they wheeled her away in a wagon, which she enjoyed, and they brought her back to me after she had awoken from the anaesthesia. Her eye was swollen and she had blood pouring from her eye and left nostril. She had an IV in her hand and was crying that it hurt and she wanted it off. She was groggy from the medication and was begging me to take her home. It broke my heart. She said "I don't like this place anymore".

Then she started crying for her Daddy. She didn't want me anymore. She wouldn't let me touch her and she just said "I want my Daddy". I called him and he must have sped across town cause he was there in a heartbeat. She was much calmer after he arrived. She's such a Daddy's girl these days.

They took out the IV and we got her dressed and we went home at 9.30 am. As soon as she got home she went straight to bed and was out cold again. She woke up once at about 2pm to ask for medicine and take 2 sips of apple juice then she was straight back to sleep. At 4.30 we started to get concerned that she wasn't waking so we called the hospital again. While waiting for them to call back she woke up and felt much better! She ate a few bites of a bagel which she's kept down so far and she had a whole cup of apple juice.

She's even sitting outside in the wading pool, which is empty, playing with kaya. Her eye is still swollen and bleeding a little. She's on eye drops 3 times a day. And she has a follow up appointment tomorrow. Seems she's doing great though. She seems happy.


While Lana was sleeping it off, Rene took Zoe across to the hospital to get her EKG things strapped on. She's walking around now with the things stuck on ehr and the machine part on her back, like a backpack. She doesn't seem to mind it. Hopefully it will all come out normal. It's a 24 hour thing, so we'll return it tomorrow afternoon.



And while I've been typing this, Rene has been on the phone to a company he's applied for, who want him to come in for an interview tomorrow afternoon! Please pray it goes according to God's will. Man Rene's been quite the hero today.

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We're such good customers

of the medical industry.

So Lana's supposed to have her eye surgery on Monday, but we had to cancel because she has had an illness these past couple days with fever and vomiting. It's been passing around the family. So they won't do general anaesthesia until she's been clear of illness for a while.

Today she seems to have been feeling better, and Zoe and Kaya are better too so we ventured out to some yard sales. Surely harmless fun right? Lana and Kaya each had a quarter to spend and they always find something weird to spend it on. Kaya bought a roll of eye stickers and Lana bought a bag of beads. We sent Rene in to buy a couple of coffee tables (for 50 c each!) and meanwhile Lana sat in the back of the car and decided that her baby frogs in her soap dispenser (which we had just bought for 25 c) wanted to watch her put a bead up her nose. And she didn't want to let those baby frogs down.

I knew nothing of her little adventure taking place in the backseat until she started yelling "mummy there's something stuck up my nose!"

It was wedged up there super high. I didn't want to attempt to try to get it out myself, I didn't even have any tweezers with me, and it was so far back it was hardly visible. Rene came back tot he car and we drove straight to ER. The Dr there held her other nostril closed and had me blow in her mouth to get it to come out. It took a couple of tries, but it came out. Lana was super brave and says she'll never put anything up her nose again!

Now we get to await the bill. At times..I slightly miss the NHS, at least, the fact that it was free anyway. I swear we pay more on medical bills than groceries, and we have good insurance too. I hate to think what it would be like without it!

Rene found this whole ordeal hillarious. He couldn't stop laughing (he has a thing about noses and stuff being stuck in them...it just tickles his funny bone) so I guess for him this was money well spent on good entertainment.

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Further testing

We took Zoe to Omaha Childrens hospital today for some further testing on the "epsiodes" she's been having. She was scheduled for an MRI and an EEG.

She had to be starved from midnight, so it was difficult in the night when she woke, crying for milk. But Daddy gave her some hugging and she settled back down. We fed the girls in secret this morning while Zoe bathed so she wouldn't have to see it.

When we got to the hospital, Zoe was as happy and chirpy as ever. She was smiling at the nurses and being cute, although she was hungry and kept doing the baby sign for milk. The nurses took her vitals and Zoe cooperated well. She liked watching the bubbles they were blowing. They stuck some lotion and sticky stuff on her hands and then we were allowed to play in the toy room for a while, which Zoe loved very much. The nurses took a real liking to Zoe and kept saying she was such a good patient!

Then it was time to go back to the room and give her the medicine that would put her to sleep. The nurses warned us that she would taste it then hate it and they'd have to hold her down and sort of force feed the rest to her. They said it tastes horrible and kids hate being fed it. They told us to expect it to get loud and disturbing but they assured us its fine and she's not in pain, she just doesn't like the taste.

They were standing each side of her, getting ready to restrain her, but Zoe took one sip of that stuff and was just so starving she started sucking on the syringe for dear life. The nurses were amazed and said that never happens! Poor baby guzzled the stuff.

They then had to stick in the IV, which was not fun at all. I shall not go into details, I'm sure you can imagine the scene.

Afterwards they left the room, with soft music playing and a little birdie light show thing. I was able to hold Zoe and rock her to sleep. It was peaceful and not scary, and I was happy with that. She fell asleep very quickly.

The nurses came back in, gave us a pager then wheeled Zoe away for the MRI. I held it together until they were out of sight then I excused myself to the bathroom and had a total mommy hormonal meltdown moment.

After regaining composure Rene and I went to the coffee shop together for a snack and drink. It felt so strange, just being the two of us (Kaya and Lana were being babysat by some friends). It didn't feel right, I definitely prefer having my hands full of kids, even if it annoys me at times.

Then it was time to return to our room, and they brought Zoe back. It was so sad to see the little girl who had previously been fine, healthy, walking around the toy room, playing and laughing and pushing a stroller around, now lying completely still, things poked in her, bandages on her, and a towel covering over her face (they did it because she had started waking up). She was just this tiny little lump of a body under blankets and bandages. I just felt bad for putting her through all these tests :(

Then it was down to the EEG. They stuck 25 wires on her head, it looked strange. Then a big bandage over it all. She continued to sleep through it. For the last few minutes they wanted some waking readings so they woke her. Poor baby was sooo tired and out of it. She couldn't hold her own head up, or her wee body. She was trying to talk though and managed a smile.

Then she was done! I was allowed to nurse her again and she got her IV out and started waking up more and looking like our wee Zoe again. And I felt such weight lifted. We don't get the results until Monday, but I'm confident that even if something shows, God will take care of us and we'll all be ok. I'm just so glad those tests are overwith. I've been walking around feeling such dread about them. It's done now. I'm happy.

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Happy Heart

We had Zoe's EKG appointment today. I was so nervous about it, I didn't sleep much last night at all.

First, they did the EKG which did show something abnormal. Then they asked us more about her symptoms and they seemed quite conserned. But when they listened to her heart, she no longer has a murmur. So in the past few weeks it's vanished somehow.

So they did an ultrasound of her heart. And it appears to be perfect!



I'm very relieved to hear that. Very relieved.

From describing these episodes where she turns blue and gets really sleepy, and the Dr observed how sleepy she was acting while we were in there, they seem conserned and want to do further testing. She's going to have a 24 hour EKG, and maybe some brain testing incase it's a fault there, like maybe these are some kind of seizure she's having but with no jerking etc. I don't think that's likely, but I'm glad they're checking out everything to rule it out.

I do hope we get to the bottom of it. Who knows, maybe she's been healed? I know a lot of people were praying. Either way I'm just SO HAPPY it doesn't seem to be a heart issue. From what I read on the web about it (I know, you should never look this stuff up on the web) the heart thing would have been a huge worry.

Here's hoping she never has another episode. Either way I'm glad she has a perfect heart!

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Depression

At Lana's Psychiatry appointment on Tuesday, the Dr told us she has depression, based on the answers we gave in the interview. I refused meds for her, so they're doing a series of therapy sessions, which will be for the whole family, not just Lana.

I don't have much to say about it at the moment. I haven't been able to digest it properly yet myself. Part of me wonders how it's even possible for a 3 year old to have depression. I tend to think she has a depressive temperament, and depressive tendancies, rather than she flat out has depression. Sometimes she's fine and plays happily and is as cute as ever, though she does have low energy levels compared to other kids her age. I think the diagnosis was based on her lack of enthusiasm for socialising, the fact that she sleeps a lot when she's upset and that she loses her apetite a lot. That's what they seemed to be focussing on anyway.

I just don't know what to think. I find it quite crazy really.

Anyway I thought I should give some sort of an update. So here it was.

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Dr visits, health issues

Zoe had her 12 month check up and Lana had a Dr appointment too scheduled for today. Despite us still feeling ill, we got dressed and went, because we had a list of things to talk with the Dr about.

Zoe's growing well. In the seventy somethingth % for weight and 95th for height.
I told the Dr her hands and feet turn blue sometimes and occasionally her lips do too. He said the hands and feet don't worry him but the lips do. He listened to her heart and she has a murmur. So she's going to have the ECG done, and I don't know if she'll have the ultrasound one done too. He's setting that up. I'm trying not to get too worried at this point. But mums can't help it.

Then onto Lana. She has a mole on her leg that will need removed in a couple years.

She has excema.

She's getting surgery on her eye, to put something in her eye permenantly to keep the duct open and drain the fluid. He's going to set that up and call us about it.

She's also being referred to a phyciatrist because we brought up some "quirks" that she has. He said he's not worried about the hair twisting, that he had 3 kids who were hair twisters and it's just a normal comfort thing. But the combination of all the other things I mentioned (lots of little things, she is sensitive to a lot of sounds and has to cover up her ears, she internalises emotions, sleeps a lot, etc) he agreed she should be checked out. I told him I don't want her on meds for behavioural issues and he agreed with me and said I can refuse any medication or treatment if I don't agree with it. So I'm comfortable with that. She's not a bad kid, she's not misbehaving. She's an extreme strong melancholy temperament type and I don't know if she has something else going on which could be diagnosed. She's such a sensitive soul, and carries the weight of the world on her wee shoulders. I do worry for her.

So I'm feeling a bit numb after all that. Just sent Rene out for ice cream (I'm pregnant, I'm allowed) and I'm getting back into my jammies to veg out for the night, and hopefully get over this cold.

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