Sick day #4 and the never ending rain

standard March 4, 2010 4 responses

On Sunday evening I tucked in both girls and thought they felt a tad warm. Moments later C started coughing in her sleep.

With two kids with asthma coughing is run of the mill around here, but this wasn’t an asthma cough, it was a croupy cough and my heart sank. Croup means a long night and at least a day or two at home. Which, while never fun, isn’t usually a big deal. But when your husband is on the other side of the country for a few days, a long night and a day stuck at home make for a very long day.

Or a very long three days in this case.

Because she woke up Tuesday morning with a high fever.

Which didn’t go away until this evening.

When Little L started to run a fever.

So, yay, M is home. But boo on the sick kid thing. Because the long nights spent listening to the cough to gauge the optimal moment for an Albuterol dose are starting to wear me down.

Wish me luck. As I typed this Little L started coughing. It’s still an asthma-ish cough, but I think I can detect a hint of barking seal in there, sure sign of croup. 

And did I mention that it’s still raining?

I don’t care. I’m still going to go for a run. If I don’t get out of this house for at least 30 minutes I might go crazy.

The Prednisone side effects are killing me

standard January 29, 2010 3 responses

I really wanted to write a tongue in cheek post with all the Prednisone side effects and how many of them I had, but then I actually found a full list and a) was horrified at the sheer length of the list and b) relieved that I actually have so few of them.

That said, blegh. Seriously. Just blegh.

Because even if I don’t have 90% of the truly horrible side effects I am dealing with my fair share. In fact, I think that this stuff might slowly be killing me.

My body is being randomly attacked by violent flushing. One moment it’s my left cheek, the next it’s my right thigh. This afternoon it was my right upper arm. The skin turns bright red and starts to burn. Then it slowly radiates out. It’s hard to say if the face flushing or the leg flushing is worse. I hate both.

I’ve been taken over by insane mood swings that keep making M duck for cover. He has no clue if he’s going to have super happy cheery Jessica or down in the dumps bluesy Jessica. Neither do I. I don’t enjoy not controlling my moods like this. It’s one of the reasons I don’t use hormonal birth control.

I’m tired, I’m sluggish, I’m grumpy and irritable. I’m just not myself. I feel flu-ish and gross, my mouth constantly tastes nasty, and there’s no way I can drink enough water to make the taste go away. And to make matters worse I can’t sleep. I want to sleep. I’m tired. The girls are even cooperating. But all I can manage is a light doze. It’s not helping with the grumpy, irritable thing. At all.

But, all whining aside, the meds seem to be working. The bumpiness of the rash has started to smooth out, and the spots seem to be fading. I’m pretty sure that what’s being left behind is some hyper-pigmentation of the skin, but I have hope that in time that will fade. Or it will if I can survive the next 9 days on this poison without bursting into flames.

Stress level scarlet

standard December 15, 2009 1 response

It is 11:42 and instead of getting ready for bed I am
– editing Parenting on the Peninsula articles that I should have edited two days ago.
– thinking up blog posts for the Tiny Prints blog.
– wondering if the kids have any clean clothes for tomorrow.
– wondering if I have any clean clothes for tomorrow.
– worrying about a deadline that I didn’t meet today.
– trying to think ahead to our trip on Saturday so that I get everything ready before we leave.
– trying to remember everything that needs to be done before we leave Saturday.
– worrying about all the Christmas shopping that I haven’t done.
– worrying about the book that I haven’t yet read. (Sorry Genevieve!)
– worrying about the fact that I haven’t lost any weight in the last few months. Instead I have gained some.
– eating some rice pudding.
– worrying about the car that is starting to show signs of imminent demise.
– scratching my rash. (Soon none of this will matter because I shall be a lizard. Yay me.)
– agonizing over the housing/move situation
– agonizing over the school situation
– agonizing over the money situation.
– wondering when I’ll ever find the time to start finish the edits for my novel.
– feeling sad for yet another blogging/twitter mother who lost her 2-year-old son today.

He was Little L’s age. And just as full of life and fun as she is. Thinking of him and his mother tonight should make everything else just fade into perspective, but it’s really just bringing it further into the light. I hate being tortured by these piddly worries when there are huge big monster issues that people are dealing with. I want to just focus on the fact that my kids and my husband are healthy and sleeping soundly close by. But that’s not getting the articles edited, or the suitcases packed. It’s not getting the presents ordered, or the blog posts written.

I want to stop and weep for this mom and dad who have lost their son. I want to wail and scream that the world is unfair and that babies should never die, but I also want to just get my stuff done so I can finally get some sleep so I can deal with tomorrow which will be just as busy and crazy as today. And I feel terrible guilt that I’m too stressed to give this poor baby the attention and grief that he deserves.

And if that isn’t messed up, I really don’t know what is.

The h1n1 vaccine saga continued and hopefully ended

standard November 11, 2009 4 responses

The vaccine is all anyone talks about these days. Did you get it? Do you know who has it? Who’s high risk? Who’s gaming the system?

Never ending speculation and rumors that spread like quickfire. That office is giving it to anyone who walks in! This place had a 6 hour wait!

I got to daycare this morning and was told that the mother of another child, patient of our pediatrician’s office, had received a call last night informing them that the vaccine had arrived and giving them an appointment time.

Now, allow me to backtrack a second.

After all my hemming and hawing I fell down hard on the side of needing to get my children vaccinated. 76 dead children will motivate you like that. I double checked with the pediatrician’s office that my girls were high risk and then I sat back and I waited patiently for the call.

My friends freaked out and raced around looking for vaccine doses, but I waited patiently. I didn’t call the office daily, I checked the website like they asked. I was confident that they were doing their damnedest and would do their best to get to us when it was our turn. I put my faith in the system.

So this morning, I was curious, but nothing more. I checked online to see if there were any updates, and when I didn’t see any I called the office to politely inquire as to why we hadn’t gotten a similar call. I apologized profusely for being an annoying mom, but I asked.

And I was told only the high risk kids were being called. When I informed them that my daughters were high risk the receptionist paused, put me on hold, checked a list or two, and then came back online to tell me that only the really high risk kids, the ones who had had transplants or were awaiting them, were getting the vaccine.

Pardon my internet speak, but WTF?

In a town of 27,700 people and multiple pediatrician’s offices, how many of their patients could possibly be waiting for, or have already received transplants? Two? Three? Dare I call BS on that argument?

I bit my tongue and resisted getting mad at the poor girl whose job has probably been hell for the last two months. I figured that by simply calling and getting her to pull their files I reminded them that my girls should be on their high risk. I didn’t want to tick her off and make the situation worse.

Oh, but how it chaffed to hold back! I was pissed. I’m good. I did what they asked. I followed their arbitrary rules to the letter. I never bug them. I never take up their time needlessly. And I was being passed up. Twitter tales of people who had lied to get the vaccine upset me further.

I so wanted to believe the receptionist’s assurance that we were on the very next list. That they’d call us as soon as they could. But really? Why should I believe them. I even started thinking of ways I could game the system myself. Ear infection concerns anyone?

Luckily work took over for the rest of the day, pushing my concerns and my anger to the side. Though I did let it flare up periodically throughout the day by relating the drama to a few close friends. I ranted some more when I went to pick the girls up at daycare. And then we went home.

Where the answering machine light was blinking.

“We made a mistake. Little L should have been on our list. Sorry. Oh, but we don’t have a vaccine for C. We only have it for kids 36 months and under. She’s going to have to wait. Oh, and please don’t mention anything to anyone. Thank you. Beep!”

Again, WTF?

Don’t mention it? No vaccine for C? We ‘made a mistake?’

I’m sorry. You’ve had well over a month to prep for this moment. A month to figure out a system that actually worked. How hard is it to create a list of kids who need the darn vaccine? And why on earth would my 4 year-old also asthmatic child be any less at risk than my 2 year-old asthmatic child? The vaccine reserved for kids 36 months and up is usually the nasal mist. Asthmatic children can’t get that. So, what? C never gets the vaccine?

Let’s just say that it’s a good thing I got that message after the office closed.

And let’s add that I felt like an ass when we got a call at 8:30pm informing us that they were also going to vaccinate C and when could we come in?

I’m still appalled that the website still hasn’t been updated. I’m frustrated at the way this has been handled. But I’m incredibly grateful that my girls are going to get their vaccine in the morning. It’s not going to make us any less cautious when it comes to public places and exposure, but at least it’ll ease the stress a bit.