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.

Getting ready to head out

Thursday, the munchkin and I are heading to Baltimore, by way of the Atlanta airport. I'm looking forward to getting away. I haven't seen Gma-hoof in 16 months and know that she is so excited to see "her baby" (not me, the munchkin). Mom and Laura are also coming, too, so the house will be loaded with women who are all strong-minded and range in age from 92 1/2 to 20 months. Good times.
Of course, now Grandma is convinced she is dying, which she is. Technically, we all are. But she believes hers must be imminent because I'm coming to visit and Laura's coming to visit; even Step-daddy is stopping by this week (unannounced). That may cause her to pull out her will. I just hope the visit is enjoyable for her. I don't think she remembers how much energy a munchkin requires but with the three of us to chase her around, she should be fine to just laugh and point.
Most of all, I'm looking forward to getting another photo of the 4 generations of women. Granted, I'll look like the odd (wo)man out because I'll be the only brunette, but I'll take it. I know they're mine.

Lovely day

Ahhh, Happy Easter! What a beautiful day. It started at 6:30, per usual, but felt earlier because of the post midnight bedtime. We hit mass right before 8:30 and ended up in the standing room only area. The golden part was that we were on top of the vent which caused the munchkin's dress to poof out in true princess fashion. That and a bag of Cheez-its made for a lovely service. We came home and got one of our neighbors to get a family picture, complete with Syd-dog bunny ears (borrowed from the munchkin).We had 2 cameras going to get a few good shots.

Post-church brunch was a cooking invention of my own device. It turned out well, but I immediately started figuring out ways to make it even better "next time." After that, munchkin took a nap and we started cleaning up the tornado-like livingroom strewn with toys, then set out our eggs for her solo hunt post-nap. She got really good at finding them and, when she realized they contained treats, the hunt was on. The rewards were equally enjoyable.
I hope your holiday was as wonderful as ours. Happy Easter!

Shaken

I've been dealing with a lot of different things this week. We started the project that brought so much frustration. I don't foresee a lot of progress but I will do what I can to help it progress. Matt is applying for jobs and hoping things go well. His buddy, Casey, is apparently on a few short lists at some other schools so that hopefully means the two won't be in competition with each other. Those things have been weighing heavily on my mind, but the biggest thing this week has nothing to do with me. A friend, who was more of an acquaintance until we started bonding via the world of facebook, has been in the hospital with her youngest little one. At 6 weeks old, he has been an inpatient for the last week. He's been having episodes of apnea since the day he was born and it reached a point that caused his docs to send him to my place. The strange part for me is that even though he's not my child and despite his mother's unrelenting faith, on Tuesday I felt my faith being shaken. I felt myself beginning to doubt everything I've always believed and wondering whether God was really there and listening. Afterall, this child is perfect, unblemished. And yet, here he is in a hospital bed, baffling the doctors as they open every door to find the answer. I don't know how to describe the feeling that came over me as I held my own daughter and remembered her time in the NICU. Then, my faith was strong and I was not. This time, I feel like my faith was shaken. But I looked at this mother, this woman who hasn't left her child's side, who has various verses from the Bible written on the board in her son's room to give her strength, hope, support. She inspires me and yet I feel ashamed that my own faith was challenged when she is facing such challenges. I pray every day (nearly constantly for her child) and have even had a night full of dreams where all I did was pray. Perhaps there are lessons to be learned all around this child, not only by the doctors, but by me. Perhaps I need to have her faith or ask for that strength or some semblance of it. All I know is I was astounded as the thoughts passed through my head and yet, I wondered how much of that is from deep within me and how much was just a fleeting insecurity. In the last year, I went through all those "religious" challenges between pretty much everything and my dad. I believed nothing could shake me after that. Clearly, I was wrong.