Hot Tamales

Even though my taste buds were expecting something even a little more delicious, my heart sure did enjoy itself some homemade tamales last night. 

The little creations were a gift from a patient who I met during one of my first shifts in the ER here in Grand Island and who I've been able to follow in clinic over the last few months.  I've been able to get to know her, her grandson, and their story in a matter of about 15 minutes every month.  Despite different languages, ages, nationalities, socioeconomic statuses,  etc... we've kind of bonded.  Maybe it's because we're both women or mothers, or maybe because we both like to eat (and despite that, we've still been able to cut her A1C in half!).  Regardless, I would almost say we're friends.  But now one of my first Grand Island patients is moving away.  Hopefully, she's leaving healthier and better educated about her disease.  And I'm staying here with a warm heart and a full stomach.

(And on a 100% totally different topic... why are all of these horrible cruise ship stories happening when we are trying to plan our first cruise ever for this summer?  Is this a sign?  Maybe God, like Jason, wants us to go on the Lewis and Clark historical tour instead after all.)

Tidbits

It isn't for a lack of things to write about, it's more because of a lack of time to write about such things.  And then, once I get behind on sharing all of my happenings, I don't know where to start.  Now, however, I have a brief, free, quiet lunch hour with  just me and the computer.  So, here's a couple of quick tidbits of the last few weeks.  You'll have to bug me later if you want all the details, because I'd love to share when there's a little more time.

• AEDs work in real life like they do during ACLS training.
• We waited 7 years to see Blue Man group, and got to do it on someone else's dime.  (Thanks Family Practice of G.I.!)
• I'm glad that cardiac stress tests can be normal and reassuring.
• Pink eye has almost run its course.
• To my surprise Griffin didn't pee on the ultrasound tech.  (But not surprised that we'll probably be talking about surgery when we meet with the Urologists at UNMC next month.)
• We've almost met our health insurance deductible already.  Yep, it's only January.
• Jason was in a rare, 1-hour, "shopping mood" last week.
• I found a Beth Moore study again.  Yeah!!  So excited.
• The passenger side door on the Buick is fixed.
• Owen pooped on the potty... only once... and he peed all over the floor and on my leg before that.
• I still love holding up a wet, bloody, vernix-y, wrinkly, freshly born baby and saying "Congratulations!"
• Now, I'm off to clinic.
 

It Poured

The saying goes: "When it rains, it pours."  And it was Pouring last week - with a capital P.

Sunday.  Our punishment for having fun on New Year's eve and not putting the boys to bed at their usual bedtime - or even within a few hours of their usual bedtime.

Monday.  The Huskers "played."  (I actually picked them to lose in the bowl pool, so I guess it wasn't all bad.  Especially considering I'm cleaning house in that bowl pool.  #1, baby!  And, not too rub salt in his wounds, but guess who's at the bottom of the boards... hee, hee <insert evil laugh>.)  

Tuesday.  You heard all about that already, and Griffin's doing just fine now if you're wondering.  I didn't get to post this picture before because it was on Jason's phone, but now I just can't resist.

(That's an IV in his head, and half of a cup decorated with a Thomas
the train sticker covering it to protect it from curious fingers.)

Wednesday.  Home with a sick baby.  6 months to go, and already almost out of sick days.

Thursday.  Be ready.  Here's the kicker.  I was minding my own business at OB clinic when my phone buzzed Thursday morning.  I usually don't hear my phone in the middle of the day, and if I do, I don't usually answer it.  But for some reason, my curiosity with this unknown number got to me, and I answered it.  It was my bank.  My bank? "Are you missing your debit card?"  Crap!  I've haven't been able to find my wallet since before Christmas.  I thought, for sure, it was at the bottom of Owen's toy box, or under the bed, or in a purse, or buried in our junk drawer, or tucked up under the seat in the car.  I just didn't bother to look too hard for it because I knew if I couldn't find it then, I would panic.  Guess I should have been panicking.  "An officer from the Hastings police department called and reported that he found your card in someone else's possession this morning," the banker informed me.  Double Crap!!  That yucky, violated, angry, embarrassed, sick feeling filled my stomach.  Argh.  To make a long story short, it could have been a lot worse.  It took all of a few minutes to freeze all of my bank accounts and credit reports.  Then it took a few hours to file the police report.  So far, our bank accounts and my credit report seem intact.  My eye will be on it closely to keep it that way.  All it all it was another hit to my pride, already aching from Tuesday, and another terrible event in an already terrible week.

Friday.  4:20-AM C-section to start the day.

Saturday.  All day I felt like the weather.  Not hot.  Not cold.  No rain.  No sun.  Just cloudy and dreary.

Sunday.  Today.  Thankfully, I've made it through today unscathed... so far.  Hopefully, this is the start to a much better week.

On the Other Side of the ER

The proof that this blog has been neglected lately is that I didn't even realize it had been briefly hijacked by my husband until yesterday.  I guess that's what happens during the busy holiday season, and thankfully, Jason did a great job in my absence.

Fortunately, and unfortunately, I have some extra time today to write because of a sick baby.  Trust me, it is not fun when my roles of mom and doctor collide - when I'm torn between researching differential diagnoses for a bulging fontanelle versus just rocking the crying baby to whom that fontanelle belongs.

Yesterday, I found myself in that terrible crossroads.  My phone beeped with a voice mail from daycare in the middle of my afternoon clinic.  Griffin had a fever and needed to be picked up.  Sure enough, a fever of 103.  Jason hated to leave his day of exciting meetings (*wink, wink*), but agreed to come home early under the circumstances.

A dose of Tylenol, his humidifier, and some good rest was what I figured my little G needed.  I peeked in on him after dinner as he was whimpering away in his crib with his big, puffy, tired, red eyes.  In an effort to console him I rubbed my hand over his bald head.  It was hot.  As hot as Jason's new chimenea in the backyard, which, at that moment, was burning the box it came in - styrofoam and all.  But, not only was my hand met with the warmth of his fever, it also found a thumping, tense, bulge in place of the soft spot on his shiny pale dome.  As many times as I felt this place as I've picked at his cradle cap or as I've dreamed of the long locks that will surely be growing in, it had never felt like this. 

Doctor mode kicked in.  Mom mode kicked out.  High fever plus bulging fontanelle equals meningitis.  Meningitis equals spinal tap and IV antibiotics.  Spinal tap and IV antibiotics equals a trip to the ER.  But, wait, I've seen kids in the hospital with meningitis before, and they acted a lot sicker than Griffin.  He was still eating, sleeping, peeing, and even cracking a smile in the right moments.  Meningitis? 

Still, I couldn't shake it.  Should I be a bad mom and keep my baby at home with a possible serious infection, or should I be a pathetic doctor and take my own baby to clog up the ER with a virus?  I debated.  I rubbed his head to double, triple, quadruple, 54-ple check that I wasn't making it up.  Before committing a blow to my pride by showing my face in the ER where I worked on the other side of the counter just a matter of weeks ago, and before committing our budget to the blow of an over-priced ER bill (because we DO have insurance), I wanted someone else to tell me I wasn't crazy.  After a few unanswered calls followed by a few returned calls, I had my reassurance and we headed to the ER. 

Honestly, it was weird and uncomfortable to be on the other end of things.  Do I use medical lingo?  Do I look at the monitors or ask about his lab values?  Do I calculate his IV fluid rate?  Do I ask for the T-sheet and fill it out myself?  Ugh, it was awkward.  It was even more awkward when Griffin flashed his big smile at everyone who walked in the room.  Couldn't he at least put on his whimpering, sick face instead of his completely healthy one.  Where did his puffy eyes go?  However, shortly thereafter, they found his temperature to be back at 102.7, and they were in agreement that the bulge on his head was not normal.

It was every one's favorite time in the ER - shift change, so we were told that the doctor taking over would be in to likely do the spinal tap and we would be moving up from the back rooms to one closer to the front.  (Secretly, even though I didn't want G to be sick and I could think of a thousand other places I'd rather be, I was glad that it wasn't just a "It's a virus.  Go home, and call your doctor in the morning" ER visit.)

Then, a dose of Motrin (which I hesitated to give him at home as he's just shy of the magic 6 month mark) was followed by two hours of needle pokes, IV starts, blood cultures, catheters, a fluid bolus, lots of pacifiers dunked in Sweeties, and a chest X-ray.  It was amazing what two hours (or that dose of Motrin) can do.  The heat radiating off his powdery skin had cooled, and his fontanelle was softening up and looking more like the plains of Nebraska and less like the mountains of Colorado.  We discussed the options of continuing with spinal tap, giving a shot of antibiotics, or just watching now that things looked less serious.  I was happy to forgo another needle, and it wasn't too much longer and we were out the door and back in our living room.

It's done.  He's better.  My lesson's learned.  No regrets.  (At least until we get the bill.)

Taking Over

Susan didn't really invite me to guest blog so I guess you could say I am stealing her space to write.  Hopefully, I will be allowed to sleep in the same bed after this evening instead of shunned to the extremely uncomfortable futon in the basement. 

I have been sitting in the recliner enjoying this break and watching Baylor and Washington make me feel even more lazy (it's currently 53-49 at the start of the 4th quarter) when I got the idea of making sure people knew Susan's blog...or now the Newman blog ;)...is still operational.  It's pretty common this time of year to see countdown lists or assessments of the year in review so I thought it might be good to have a list of some things I heard kids under the age of 16 say this year that were pretty intriguing.  For liability purposes these characters are fictional and any similarities with actual events are purely coincidence.

1) Watching CNN Student News with my homeroom the host signs off for the year saying they will be back in 2012 where the big topic will be the end of the Mayan calendar.  A young lady approaches me and says "The world better not end in 2012...if it does my life will be over".  I just nodded in agreement and smiled.  "I won't even be able to get my license either!!" as she stomped out of the room.

2) A witty young man found a picture in a home design magazine of a short balding man with a scarf sweeping his front porch, while working on a Science project.  He promptly delivered the picture to me as a gift and I asked him why he gave it to me to which he replied "It's you!!"  I said it's not me because I wouldn't wear a scarf and I'm too lazy to sweep the porch.  I posted the picture above my desk.  A week later another young man comes up to check his grades with me and asks if that picture is me.  Of course, I just stared at him until he gave me the look like "clearly that was a dumb question".  I told him I would never wear a scarf.  He responded, "I would never wear one either.  Unless I was one of those rich, single guys with a good job in Chicago.  Then I would definitely wear a scarf."

3) A great kid I enjoyed seeing everyday very much made a mix-tape (CD actually) of a bunch of cheesy songs from the 70s-90s.  I don't know why I consented but I allowed him to play a particular selection (Sylvia's Mother by Dr. Hook, 1972) from the disc every morning to start the day for my first class.  One day I let him play the whole CD during work time.  One of the songs was a Backstreet Boys song that I regretfully admitted I knew the words to then proceeded to name all five of them in front of the class.  This kid asked me how I had this useless knowledge and I told him I had a girlfriend in high school that loved BSB and I had no choice but to like them too.  He laughed and shared the pain by saying how much that "sucked" a girl could push the limits so far.  He then asked what happened to the girlfriend to which I responded..."I married her". 

Honorable Mention: As I lectured to a class full of students about the creation of the Constitution I was discussing the variety of ideas delegates from large and small states had about how to create representation that would benefit all sizes of states.  Whenever you are talking about something so exciting kids' minds tend to wander.  I started getting questions about Rhode Island & Delaware.  One young man wanted to know the population of Rhode Island in 1790 (actually 1787 as the Constitution was being written but I told him the first official census was in 1790 which he found to be a satisfactory starting point) which made me chuckle and I had to use the classic response - "I haven't really dug into that but it might be a good research topic for you".  He seemed truly frustrated that I didn't know.  The next day at the start of class I looked right at him and said "about 80,000".  He looked at me like I was from another plant.  "The population of Rhode Island in 1790 was about 80,000".  His response: "Oh...now you tell me".  He was not impressed, apparently 24 hours is too much of a turnaround. 

I had actually planned to blog with a pretty sentimental piece on Owen's birthday about the events of his birth and my memories as a first time dad.  I might save that one for next year's review.  That is, if Susan doesn't block me from her account permanently.  By the way it's 56-67 (Baylor) with 2:40 left. 

Extravaganza

Tomorrow our dining room will be a little less colorfully decorated, there will no longer be an excuse to eat ice-cream twice a day, and we'll slip back into our usual routines.  But it was definitely fun while it lasted.  A blast!

As promised, here are a few pics from the best birthday party a two year-old could have and one extra special birthday day spent with a blessed mom.

This is how you torture a kid - make him eat a banana for breakfast while staring at his birthday cake the morning of his party.

I'm pretty proud of my train birthday cake creation.  I stole the idea off the Internet, and, not to toot my own horn, it turned out pretty cool.

 

The party dinner was at Applebee's.  It really isn't normal how much he likes Applebee's, but it at least made the decision of where to eat pretty easy.

 

Yes, we had them sing to him so we, I mean, he could have free dessert.

 

Time for cake!

 

It was so much fun, that both boys crashed hard and fast.  We actually set Griffin in his crib while we put Owen to bed and came back a few minutes later to see him out like a light.

Two days between the party and the big December 13th was just enough time to get rested up.  He woke up bright and early on his birthday.  There was no sleeping in for me on my day of "vacation."  We dropped Griffin off at daycare, and instead of Owen taking his seat in the kitchen and chowing down on cereal and watching cartoons, he and I headed out for our fun-filled celebration day.

Outfit #1 bit the dust with syrup and ketchup stains.  You know it's a good breakfast with that combination!

After a wardrobe change, we checked out the library (pun intended).  I was very impressed, and Owen had a blast.  We came home with a Thomas the train book, a potty chair book (wishful thinking), and $1 less in my wallet to "replace" my library card from high school.

We are still working on the two finger thing.  Until he figures it out, I apologize if he holds up a random gang sign if you ask him how old he is.  And after outfit #3 ended up in the laundry pile, we decided to just go with the official attire - his "birthday suit" (plus a diaper, of course, and socks because it's pretty cold).

 

So, like I said, we had a blast.  Maybe me more than him.  When he's old (like in a week or two), he won't remember this.  But I will.  I always will.  And I had a blast with my little boy!  Happy Birthday, Owen.

Great Weekend

It's going to be a great weekend.  I can just feel it.  It's 7-AM.  I've already been at the hospital for two hours, and what little sleep I had last night was fragmented by my pager (thanks, Dr. McGahan, for the 4-AM "oops, I guess this is a VA patient" wake up call) and a baby who decided this week he no longer was going to sleep through the night.  Still, for some odd reason, I'm feeling good.  Energized.  Excited.  (It could also be the Keurig coffee and chocolate chip chocolate muffin I'm enjoying for "breakfast" from the doctor's lounge.)  It's going to be a great weekend!

Honestly, I'm actually thankful for going to work this morning.  For one, it got me out of bed (and being a morning person, sleeping in really doesn't do me any favors regardless of how restless the night was).  And for two, the patients I admitted overnight were interesting cases, and yet I felt confident in my ability to manage them.  What a great feeling.  It makes me realize how much I've learned, how much I know, how much I enjoy my job, and that maybe isn't so scary to be almost halfway done with residency.

As enjoyable as working was last night, it's going to be a great weekend for a lot more reasons.  The agenda is actually quite full.  My baby O is turning two next week so we are celebrating the momentous occasion tomorrow.  You all know that the few hours of party requires a few days of cleaning, shopping, decorating, and planning - all of which I'm hoping to cram in today.  It's not even going to be a big party - just family, but I love birthdays so much that I will probably go a little overboard.  Don't worry, pictures of the super-cute train cake I'm attempting to make myself will be coming soon.

See.  It's going to be a great weekend!