I'm channeling...

I'm trying to channel my energy to things that are more productive. Of course, I started this months ago, but it's something that's easy to do and it makes me happy, so why not?!
Last year, I went to a meeting for a group called The Preemie Project. Okay, it wasn't really a meeting, but they got together and sewed for the entire weekend. I hadn't had a break in, oh, forever, so I took advantage. We made over 200 blankets and I don't even remember how many sleep sacks, but I think we got close to running out of material. I learned how to do more with my sewing machine and got to spend time with some fabulous women. This year, a call went out for pumpkins. Hats, booties and other fall-flavored items for the mini-munchkins in the NICU. Being, well, me I went nuts. First, I thought I'd try to cross-stitch a bunch of onesies with pumpkins on them and cute phrases. Three hours/nights into the project I realized the chances of me getting more than 2 done before Oct 22 were pretty slim so I started on other pumpkin-themed ideas. I found a pattern for hats and I was off. Once I'd made 18, I tried to find the best way to make booties. That was going to be a bit more of a challenge for me because I didn't want to have to sew them. I wanted to be able to do them quickly. I finally found a pattern---here---and set to work. In total I made 23 hats and 20 pairs of booties; 18 sets to donate, 1 set for a new baby, three pairs of booties for friends. Of course, I failed to take pictures of them all, but I did get a few. Hopefully, I'd get photos of the little ones with their adornments, as well. In the mean time, it takes my mind off of the other things in life that keep me from smiling.

and the world turned upside-down

My excitement last week seemed boundless, but almost as quickly as it came, it left again. Dad and Jo came to visit; we were having a great time. Saturday at dinner, amid pizza and football, the munchkin began screaming. I picked her up and comforted her and she quickly calmed down. It didn't make much sense to me but I figured maybe she bit her tongue, cheek or kicked the table and hurt her toes, but she pointed to the right side of her head. Still, because it ended quickly, I didn't think too much of it. Sunday morning we had brunch with the grandparents before they left and came home for a nice, relaxing day. It was truly wonderful until about 4:30 when, once again, the pain reappeared. This time, she was much more distressed and didn't want me to put her down. I didn't want to reinforce a negative behavior, and was trying to fix dinner, so I put her down, but she wobbled and I quickly picked her up again. Within the next 2 hours, she had as many episodes so we went to the ER. Two hours later, we were seen and given the diagnosis of "Headache" because everything else checked out as normal and home we went. Monday evening she had another one while outside playing, but again was fine relatively quickly and so I waited. When we hit yet another on Tuesday morning, at daycare, my patience was done. I called Peds to get her an appointment ASAP. The docs we saw were baffled as to why this was happening, because neurologically everything checked out, and a CT was scheduled for Friday. Wednesday after a stress-filled day at work, we came home as though nothing was wrong and I was fixing dinner when my littlest love, playing and singing with her babies, paused to sweetly call "Mommy" and, when I answered, said, "My head hurts. I wanna go doctor." Insert Mommy freak-out here

So I called 2bit for advice. She, being brilliant, said I should do what was requested. When I got off the phone and said we were going, munchkin said, "No stay here. Eat supper. Go later" so I restarted my heart and finished dinner. She again made the request during dinner so I tried to distract her and took her outside where she saw her favorite boyfriend. We played for about half and hour, came inside, took a bath and waited for her daddy to come home from work. I let her play some more and sat down to email the pediatrician. I was in the middle of describing my pre-dinner heart attack when she stopped mid-dog-toy-throw and screamed and cried. It's the worst sound I could ever imagine and can't even begin to describe, nor do I really want to (having told this story well over a dozen times to various doctors, nurses, med students, residents, electrophysiologists, etc). I ran over to begin assessing because they recommended trying to look for any shaking (seizure-ish) and asking questions to evaluate cognition. Matt came in near the end and I had her walk to him. Everything seemed normal until Matt put her down after she was comforted and she said, "Hi Daddy" and hugged him like she'd just seen him. Off to the ER we went again. CT completed while we were there was clear--exhale due to really scary stuff ruled out (ie, tumors, CSF leakage or blockage).

Thursday was a good day=No episodes. Friday was looking positive. We moved slowly on our way to the follow-up appt in Peds. Again, I told the story to yet another flippin' resident despite the fact that the attending had met me on Tuesday and I scheduled my appointment with HER. That part was annoying, damn it. The good part of the resident was that she scheduled an EEG that same morning and an MRI. After the torture that is glue and an air compressor putting electrodes on a 2-year-olds head (especially one who hates having things stuck on her against her will and hates anything that blows air exponentially more), bribery of chocolate anything she wanted, we were done for the morning. She had lunch with my coworkers and we went home to recovery from the morning. That night we went to a baby shower for a very dear friend. It was a lovely time until we got ready to leave and she had one right in front of the 3-year-old daughter of a friend. Naturally, her mom says, "What did you do?" because it always sounds as though someone's been hit, pushed, scratched, etc. I quickly assured her, her child was innocent, while mine screamed that she wanted to go to the doctor. We were this close to having two days in a row...ugh.

Saturday was a very lazy day, mostly because Matt and I were exhausted from the week. I barely changed out of my jammies. I wanted to cuddle my kiddo and have a perfect day of football, friends and smiles. We had a great morning and afternoon, but at 6 she screamed. This one was, by far, the worst in intensity and length. Still, once she was done, she was fine and again, there were friends around to witness it. Which, while scary as hell for them, validates my fears. Again, over quickly, but sucky in the moment. Sunday, I was optimistic. She slept until 7. At 7:15, I gave up---episode. With it being that early in the morning, I just wait for the other shoe to drop and to count how many more we have that day. Luckily, it was the only one.

That brings me to today. We were able to move the MRI up from Nov 3 to this Friday (I love the people who are willing to pull strings to help me). The EEG results will be ready between Wed and Fri.

As if that's not enough, there's more. Seriously. There's more.

The hubby's had back problems since he was 13. It was aggravated last January and he's been to PT, a doctor, chiropractor, even an ER trip that was useless. Today he went back to the doc, following the completion of 6 weeks of PT and a bottle of Aleve. Today. TODAY, they do an x-ray. Today. Did I mention this has been going on since January? Today. Well, looking at the x-ray TODAY, it appears some of his vertebrae have fused together, there's arthritis, scoliosis, bone spurs hitting the muscle or nerve and aggravating the muscle or nerve. AND (yes, there's an AND) his tailbone has no space between it and the last lumbar vertebrae; it's compressed. The doctor's recommendation, a neuro-surgeon and possible surgery. Did I mention they did an x-ray TODAY? Today. What the deuce?!

So yeah, guess who else will be getting an MRI? Not me. I'll be praying the grant we submitted goes through so that we'll have health insurance and some money to pay all these freakin' bills we'll be getting in the very near future. And breathing, breathing deeply, because if I get sick, that would just complete the holy crap trifecta.

I did it

I bit the bullet, put my backside in gear and did it.
I finally applied for a teaching job...at a university. Am I freaking out? You bet your sweet bippy I am, but I'm also cautiously optimistic and excited. I want to see what, if anything, will happen and, if there's feedback coming, what it is and what it means and how I can get better. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay with them saying "no" because even if they do, I'm not going to be kicking myself for not trying, for not applying and for not seeing what could be.
The planner inside is the one doing the backflips and saying, "Are you really sure you want to do this? Too late now. You're in for it, girl" and the part of me that so wants to be like Matt, so laid back and relaxed and go-with-the-flow is telling her to shut up and sit down. I like it.
The past few weeks have been more than stressful (and that's an understatement). Any and every little thing could send me into a mental rage, or sad, or lonely. This actually makes me feel like I've taken back the reigns and I'm trying to make not just everyone else happy but ME happy. I've kind of forgotten what that's like, which makes me disappointed in myself. The realization, however, that I've taken back my "power" (as Mom puts it) gives me this inner confidence that I had forgotten was there. I've moved complacency out of the way and I'm back to me (or at least I hope I am) and maybe even a better me. And today? I'm proud of myself.
So I'm going to sit here and pat myself on the back. I know I don't do it enough.