Last week, I wrote on Facebook about a boy in our valley, Andrew, who had been battling cancer. I was Facebooking about Andrew because we have two local newspapers, both of which are crap by any journalistic standards, by the way, but one of them is far worse than the other. Stories always contain typos, their content is mostly advertising, their writing doesn't even remotely stick to any sort of Associated Press style. It annoys me, but whatever.
Anyway, last week this annoying newspaper reported on its front page that Andrew had died. But he hadn't. And I totally lost it. I was so angry. Can you imagine what that would be like for his family? I sent the editor an angry e-mail. How do you make that mistake? One visit to Andrew's CarePage would have told them that while he was not doing at all well, he was still alive.
I didn't get a reply. Surprise.
The next day, also on the front page, the newspaper ran a correction. The headline read: Andrew Claymon is not dead. I'm totally serious. Not: Andrew Claymon is still bravely fighting. Or anything with a more positive spin--or as positive as you can be when a child is close to death.
I about lost it. I wrote another e-mail telling them to fire whoever wrote that headline AND whoever approved it. In their second "story," the editor wrote about how they printed that Andrew had died because their heard it from a source "close to the family that they thought was reliable." How very National Enquirer of them.
The NEXT day, they ran a mea culpa letter about how awful they felt and how many times that had rewritten that "Andrew is not dead" headline. The fact that they rewrote it and yet STILL printed it is particularly hideous. Tact? Class? Apparently not something they considered.
They are such a crap paper that I suggested they just fold or maybe start following standard journalistic practics which call for sources to be triple checked. I must be so old fashioned.
At any rate, the sad ending is that 18 months after his diagnosis, brave Andrew passed away today of a rare and aggressive form of cancer.
I'm hoping the newspaper handles his actual passing with some sort of grace. I wonder if that's too much to ask for his family.
Showing posts with label sick kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sick kids. Show all posts
Monday, July 5, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Pink Eye. Awesome.
We almost made it, people. Almost. We almost made it to the end of the school year (June 3) with no one else coming down with some sort of contagion. And then I got a phone call last week that Declan's friend, who sits next to him in class, has pink eye.
I waited.
Declan never got it.
But Finn did.
From the kid who sits next to him.
Fortunately, I was ready with drops AND a homeopathic remedy. I was taking no chances.
Finn: Will I be going to school tomorrow?
Me: Yes.
Declan: Aren't you supposed to stay home when you get pink eye?
Me: Yes.
Finn: But I'm going to school?
Me: Yes.
Because seriously, it's the last few days of school. Clearly everyone else has had it and given it to my kids, yet again. And I am annoyed. In fact, when I went over to school to give Finn the drops this morning (you've got to hit them 6 times in the first 24 hours), the kid who sits next to Finn said, "Hey, I've got a pink eye, too!"
Yes, I know, I heard.
And then I lectured him about handwashing.
Because I'm fun like that.
***********
About the hair: I WILL post pictures, after Nick does his thing to it on June 7. I won't subject you to how I look on a daily basis--it's the "I just worked out and haven't had time to shower" look. No one needs to see that. Except the other parents picking up their kids after school.
I waited.
Declan never got it.
But Finn did.
From the kid who sits next to him.
Fortunately, I was ready with drops AND a homeopathic remedy. I was taking no chances.
Finn: Will I be going to school tomorrow?
Me: Yes.
Declan: Aren't you supposed to stay home when you get pink eye?
Me: Yes.
Finn: But I'm going to school?
Me: Yes.
Because seriously, it's the last few days of school. Clearly everyone else has had it and given it to my kids, yet again. And I am annoyed. In fact, when I went over to school to give Finn the drops this morning (you've got to hit them 6 times in the first 24 hours), the kid who sits next to Finn said, "Hey, I've got a pink eye, too!"
Yes, I know, I heard.
And then I lectured him about handwashing.
Because I'm fun like that.
***********
About the hair: I WILL post pictures, after Nick does his thing to it on June 7. I won't subject you to how I look on a daily basis--it's the "I just worked out and haven't had time to shower" look. No one needs to see that. Except the other parents picking up their kids after school.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Greetings from Sick Bay
Tissue, anyone? Day 7 of Declan's mono diagnosis and all's well. Well, not totally well, but better. His symptoms last week were mostly like a very severe cold--lots of coughing and blowing out gunky stuff. Ick.
The thing that's troubling to me is that there is no conventional treatment for mono. What to do? What to do? I tried various and sundry homeopathic remedies to ease him symptoms, but to no avail. He was pretty miserable.
And then I called a friend who is a naturopathic doctor and asked what she thought. We went in to see her and she provided us with some supplements and herbal remedies, AND she did acupuncture on him! It was so cool. I've always wanted to try it. Declan thought it was slightly less amusing to be a human pincushion, but he was pretty cooperative.
That night was a really tough one--this is apparently common when the symptoms are coming out from the acupuncture. And the next day, there was marked improvement. By Friday, I was wishing I'd sent him to school. He was well enough to be squirrely and annoying after a week at home. I'm happy to report we both survived the day. We went back for one more acupuncture treatment, during which he cried and then laughed hysterically--again, something you sometimes see as a reaction. But the bottom line is that boy is ready to go back to school.
At least he'd better be. I have lunch plans with a friend tomorrow.
Anyway, I've been interested in naturopathy and homeopathy for quite awhile. We did some of both with Finn during treatment and I tried to learn more about it so that when anyone is getting sick, I treat it homeopathically instead of with over the counter drugs, which scare me to death especially since the FDA has decided, "Hey! That stuff companies make for your kids? It doesn't work and it's not all that safe anyway!"
Nice.
Homeopathy is hard. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I don't. The beauty of homeopathy is that when you get it wrong, nothing happens. You don't cause any further problems. You just wait a bit and try a different remedy. And it's like hitting the sweet spot on a golf ball when you get it right. Or so I hear. I don't play golf.
I'm a bit of a compulsive nut. It's true. When I hear about something, I like to go learn more about it and see if it's something I want to jump into willy nilly or run from screaming.
Mostly I like to jump in willy nilly on health and nutrition things. My latest kick, as I mentioned a few posts ago, was two weeks of eating as a gluten-free vegan.
It was a challenge through an online fitness forum I take part in and it sounded hard at first. What, exactly, was I going to eat? Yes, I knew I could do a lot of raw eating, which I did several years ago and have strayed violently from, but even when I did a three week raw challenge in the past, I could set my own goals. Then I chose to eat raw all day and have a small piece of meat at dinner. No meat at all? Could I do it? Dairy? Wheat? Cheese? You should know that I love cheese.
It loves my thighs right back, incidentally.
Anyway, I got a bit of a slow start. I didn't prepare any wheat free stuff prior to the challenge and I was hurting those first few days. I consumed a lot of raw vegetables.
But then I got my footing, dehydrated some buckwheat groats for cereal and some seed bread, got some beans on the shelves and I was off and running. I had a few stumbles here and there. I was in Boulder 10 days ago (oh my word--did I write about our trip to Boulder to meet Chef Ann Cooper? The woman who has reformed school lunches in Berkley, in school districts in Texas? She's the U.S.'s Jamie Oliver! And are you watching his Food Revolution? We'll talk about that during the next post. Whenever it happens.) Where was I? Boulder. I was in Boulder. A city that has a college campus and many wonderful restaurants INCLUDING Indian restaurants, possibly my favorite ethic food. I was chowing down on a thigh of Tandoori chicken and dipping it in Raita before I remembered I was a vegan.
I confessed all on my forum's thread and then moved on.
Overall, the challenge was a great learning experience and what I'm taking away from it is that I will not be going back to gluten/wheat. I cannot believe the changes in my sinuses. I thought they were in generally good shape after my sinus surgery four years ago, but now, after two weeks of no wheat/gluten, I can't believe it. My nasal passages work ALL the time. Not just sometimes. I wake up in the morning and I can breathe. It's very lovely, really!
I think the thing that surprised me most about the challenge is that I don't miss wheat products at all. I'm trying to figure out now what I should do with all of the wheat-based cereals and crackers around here. Do I/we eat them and then go through the detox process again? That wasn't a fun few days.
And I'm determined to get the boys and Eamonn eating gluten free as well. I think that will help everyone's sinus issues and the, um, digestive issues as well.
As an aside, Tara and Erin are both doing gluten free, too. Erin is hardcore and went all the way--no gluten. In fact, her results inspired me to do the challenge. Tara has done experimenting.
So what did I eat? Breakfasts were things like dehydrated buckwheat groats. It's like Grape Nuts, which I love. I'd top them with a banana, raw agave syrup, and either soy or hemp milk. I have to say, I love hemp milk. That sounds very hippie-ish. Or I might have gluten-free vegan waffles. Yes, they do exist. Van's makes them or I also made them myself. I liked to top them with pureed fruit and flax seeds. I also like to soak oat groats over night and top those with almonds, raisins and soy or hemp milk. I know it's strange, but I love millet porridge. I figure if times get really hard, I can dine at the neighbor's bird feeder now and be just fine.
Did I mention I'm very regular when I eat like this? TMI? Thought so.
Lunch could be a salad with all sorts of toppings. Or veggies like grilled eggplant on my seed bread. I made tacos and used corn tortillas and filled them with beans and olives and avocado and salsa. I am also a tortilla chip addict. That should be known. I can't keep my head out of the bag of Kirkland Organic Tortilla Chips. One day I made a veggie roll up in romaine lettuce leaves. In addition to veggies, there was a seed "cheese" in there, which I didn't like (see below). And I was supposed to roll them veggies in a collard leaf, which I didn't have. The romaine wasn't the greatest substitute. Now I have collards so I guess I should try it again.
Dinners. I made a black bean stew that lasted for days and got spicer by the minute in the fridge. Eventually I had to throw it out because I was literally burning my lips off. I also made a kale and bean soup that was delish. I like soup. My family does not. I ate a lot of soup on my own. For many, many meals in a row. The other night I made spaghetti sauce and ate it with quinoa pasta, which tastes exactly like regular pasta. I was shocked. I also bought a few frozen Indian dinners that were gluten free and vegan. I love them. They stink while they're cooking. But I'm OK with it.
I had a few misses. One raw recipe calls for using jicama slices very thinly on a mandoline, which I actually bought for $10 several years ago at Marshalls, of all places. So you have these thin jicama slices and use it like a ravioli wrapper. You put a "cheese" made of ground sunflower seeds, pine nuts, lemon juice and Nama Shoyu. Unfortunately, I didn't like the flavor the Nama Shoyu gave the "cheese" so the whole thing flopped. I want to make it again and just leave out the Nama Shoyu. I'll get right on that.
For sweets, which I cannot do without, I ate dates. Medjool dates. I just bought a new container and they crappy Medjool dates and I'm tres unhappy about it. Snacks were things like raw walnuts and raisins, apples with peanut butter, rice crackers--don't get me started on how good Nut-Thins are. And, of course, popcorn. If being a gluten free vegan required forgoing popcorn, all would be lost.
So that's it. My latest freaky thing that I'm doing. I know. I'm a whack job.
I'm OK with it. But I'm not OK with the dates. Definitely not OK about that.
The thing that's troubling to me is that there is no conventional treatment for mono. What to do? What to do? I tried various and sundry homeopathic remedies to ease him symptoms, but to no avail. He was pretty miserable.
And then I called a friend who is a naturopathic doctor and asked what she thought. We went in to see her and she provided us with some supplements and herbal remedies, AND she did acupuncture on him! It was so cool. I've always wanted to try it. Declan thought it was slightly less amusing to be a human pincushion, but he was pretty cooperative.
That night was a really tough one--this is apparently common when the symptoms are coming out from the acupuncture. And the next day, there was marked improvement. By Friday, I was wishing I'd sent him to school. He was well enough to be squirrely and annoying after a week at home. I'm happy to report we both survived the day. We went back for one more acupuncture treatment, during which he cried and then laughed hysterically--again, something you sometimes see as a reaction. But the bottom line is that boy is ready to go back to school.
At least he'd better be. I have lunch plans with a friend tomorrow.
Anyway, I've been interested in naturopathy and homeopathy for quite awhile. We did some of both with Finn during treatment and I tried to learn more about it so that when anyone is getting sick, I treat it homeopathically instead of with over the counter drugs, which scare me to death especially since the FDA has decided, "Hey! That stuff companies make for your kids? It doesn't work and it's not all that safe anyway!"
Nice.
Homeopathy is hard. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I don't. The beauty of homeopathy is that when you get it wrong, nothing happens. You don't cause any further problems. You just wait a bit and try a different remedy. And it's like hitting the sweet spot on a golf ball when you get it right. Or so I hear. I don't play golf.
I'm a bit of a compulsive nut. It's true. When I hear about something, I like to go learn more about it and see if it's something I want to jump into willy nilly or run from screaming.
Mostly I like to jump in willy nilly on health and nutrition things. My latest kick, as I mentioned a few posts ago, was two weeks of eating as a gluten-free vegan.
It was a challenge through an online fitness forum I take part in and it sounded hard at first. What, exactly, was I going to eat? Yes, I knew I could do a lot of raw eating, which I did several years ago and have strayed violently from, but even when I did a three week raw challenge in the past, I could set my own goals. Then I chose to eat raw all day and have a small piece of meat at dinner. No meat at all? Could I do it? Dairy? Wheat? Cheese? You should know that I love cheese.
It loves my thighs right back, incidentally.
Anyway, I got a bit of a slow start. I didn't prepare any wheat free stuff prior to the challenge and I was hurting those first few days. I consumed a lot of raw vegetables.
But then I got my footing, dehydrated some buckwheat groats for cereal and some seed bread, got some beans on the shelves and I was off and running. I had a few stumbles here and there. I was in Boulder 10 days ago (oh my word--did I write about our trip to Boulder to meet Chef Ann Cooper? The woman who has reformed school lunches in Berkley, in school districts in Texas? She's the U.S.'s Jamie Oliver! And are you watching his Food Revolution? We'll talk about that during the next post. Whenever it happens.) Where was I? Boulder. I was in Boulder. A city that has a college campus and many wonderful restaurants INCLUDING Indian restaurants, possibly my favorite ethic food. I was chowing down on a thigh of Tandoori chicken and dipping it in Raita before I remembered I was a vegan.
I confessed all on my forum's thread and then moved on.
Overall, the challenge was a great learning experience and what I'm taking away from it is that I will not be going back to gluten/wheat. I cannot believe the changes in my sinuses. I thought they were in generally good shape after my sinus surgery four years ago, but now, after two weeks of no wheat/gluten, I can't believe it. My nasal passages work ALL the time. Not just sometimes. I wake up in the morning and I can breathe. It's very lovely, really!
I think the thing that surprised me most about the challenge is that I don't miss wheat products at all. I'm trying to figure out now what I should do with all of the wheat-based cereals and crackers around here. Do I/we eat them and then go through the detox process again? That wasn't a fun few days.
And I'm determined to get the boys and Eamonn eating gluten free as well. I think that will help everyone's sinus issues and the, um, digestive issues as well.
As an aside, Tara and Erin are both doing gluten free, too. Erin is hardcore and went all the way--no gluten. In fact, her results inspired me to do the challenge. Tara has done experimenting.
So what did I eat? Breakfasts were things like dehydrated buckwheat groats. It's like Grape Nuts, which I love. I'd top them with a banana, raw agave syrup, and either soy or hemp milk. I have to say, I love hemp milk. That sounds very hippie-ish. Or I might have gluten-free vegan waffles. Yes, they do exist. Van's makes them or I also made them myself. I liked to top them with pureed fruit and flax seeds. I also like to soak oat groats over night and top those with almonds, raisins and soy or hemp milk. I know it's strange, but I love millet porridge. I figure if times get really hard, I can dine at the neighbor's bird feeder now and be just fine.
Did I mention I'm very regular when I eat like this? TMI? Thought so.
Lunch could be a salad with all sorts of toppings. Or veggies like grilled eggplant on my seed bread. I made tacos and used corn tortillas and filled them with beans and olives and avocado and salsa. I am also a tortilla chip addict. That should be known. I can't keep my head out of the bag of Kirkland Organic Tortilla Chips. One day I made a veggie roll up in romaine lettuce leaves. In addition to veggies, there was a seed "cheese" in there, which I didn't like (see below). And I was supposed to roll them veggies in a collard leaf, which I didn't have. The romaine wasn't the greatest substitute. Now I have collards so I guess I should try it again.
Dinners. I made a black bean stew that lasted for days and got spicer by the minute in the fridge. Eventually I had to throw it out because I was literally burning my lips off. I also made a kale and bean soup that was delish. I like soup. My family does not. I ate a lot of soup on my own. For many, many meals in a row. The other night I made spaghetti sauce and ate it with quinoa pasta, which tastes exactly like regular pasta. I was shocked. I also bought a few frozen Indian dinners that were gluten free and vegan. I love them. They stink while they're cooking. But I'm OK with it.
I had a few misses. One raw recipe calls for using jicama slices very thinly on a mandoline, which I actually bought for $10 several years ago at Marshalls, of all places. So you have these thin jicama slices and use it like a ravioli wrapper. You put a "cheese" made of ground sunflower seeds, pine nuts, lemon juice and Nama Shoyu. Unfortunately, I didn't like the flavor the Nama Shoyu gave the "cheese" so the whole thing flopped. I want to make it again and just leave out the Nama Shoyu. I'll get right on that.
For sweets, which I cannot do without, I ate dates. Medjool dates. I just bought a new container and they crappy Medjool dates and I'm tres unhappy about it. Snacks were things like raw walnuts and raisins, apples with peanut butter, rice crackers--don't get me started on how good Nut-Thins are. And, of course, popcorn. If being a gluten free vegan required forgoing popcorn, all would be lost.
So that's it. My latest freaky thing that I'm doing. I know. I'm a whack job.
I'm OK with it. But I'm not OK with the dates. Definitely not OK about that.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Ups and Downs of Life as a 10-Year Old Boy
Pardon the lack of updates this week (I should probably say that every week). I've had a little friend home with me every day this week so far, with little end in sight.
As an aside, I had someone home with me for two days last week, as well. Actually, Eamonn was home with a sick kid one of those days while I went to work at the ski school.
Anyway, last week it was Finn; this week it's Declan.
A few weeks ago, the world was Declan's oyster. He had just turned 10 (OK, he was sick on his birthday, but he did finally have his party). He received a much longed for Nintendo DSi for his birthday (I'm totally addicted to doing sudoku on it--in fact, I'm taking a short break from writing this RIGHT NOW to play a game. Back in a sec.)
OK, I'm back. FYI, I'm frickin' slow at sudoku. I'd like to know how to pronounce that, incidentally. My Mom say SA-DUE-KO. How can that be right? Any experts in Japanese feel free to weigh in now. Anyway, I'm hoping that sudoku will keep me from getting Alzheimers anytime soon. I'm totally serious.
So, back to Declan.
His birthday. Great gift. Sleepover party once he wasn't sick. Etc.
And then, I don't think I ever wrote about this, he tried out for and made a statewide travel hockey team. Pretty exciting. It required travel to Denver for practice one weeknight a week and on Saturday/Sunday for six weeks. Then we were all heading to Vancouver for a week in late May for a big tournament.
We were all very excited. Practices were to start today.
But all winter, Declan hasn't really been 100%. Fatigue, one cold/upper respiratory infection after another, general grumpiness--he's a kid who needs more sleep than your average bear--he just wasn't quite right.
Ten days ago, as much as I hated to do it, we put him on antibiotics for what we thought was a sinus infection. He showed some improvement, but on the last day of the antibiotics, he started getting sick again. WTF? I barked at him that he clearly wasn't washing his hands well enough at school and then touching his T-zone. Duh! Why do you do that? Blah, blah, blah.
Sunday night brought on a low grade fever, raging sore throat, and spots on his tonsils.
Monday morning we went to the doctor and they tested for strep. But I had this nagging feeling. I asked how likely it could be that he had mono. The doctor said unlikely, but that they'd test.
Positive for mono.
Ugh.
Even though the doctor said he could play hockey--his age level doesn't check yet, and he's the goalie anyway--we decided to pull him out and forgo our trip to Vancouver. Great disappointment all around--Declan for not playing hockey with this great team, Finn for not going to Vancouver (specifically with his friend whose brother also made the team), and us for. . .let's face it, missing Vancouver. I was psyched to go there.
Another time.
So now we're waiting for Declan to stop hacking and sneezing so he can go back to school and not infect the entire student population. Will it be tomorrow? Friday? I don't know.
But I do know that a Nintendo DSi apparently makes one feel a lot better in the face of disappointment.
As an aside, I had someone home with me for two days last week, as well. Actually, Eamonn was home with a sick kid one of those days while I went to work at the ski school.
Anyway, last week it was Finn; this week it's Declan.
A few weeks ago, the world was Declan's oyster. He had just turned 10 (OK, he was sick on his birthday, but he did finally have his party). He received a much longed for Nintendo DSi for his birthday (I'm totally addicted to doing sudoku on it--in fact, I'm taking a short break from writing this RIGHT NOW to play a game. Back in a sec.)
OK, I'm back. FYI, I'm frickin' slow at sudoku. I'd like to know how to pronounce that, incidentally. My Mom say SA-DUE-KO. How can that be right? Any experts in Japanese feel free to weigh in now. Anyway, I'm hoping that sudoku will keep me from getting Alzheimers anytime soon. I'm totally serious.
So, back to Declan.
His birthday. Great gift. Sleepover party once he wasn't sick. Etc.
And then, I don't think I ever wrote about this, he tried out for and made a statewide travel hockey team. Pretty exciting. It required travel to Denver for practice one weeknight a week and on Saturday/Sunday for six weeks. Then we were all heading to Vancouver for a week in late May for a big tournament.
We were all very excited. Practices were to start today.
But all winter, Declan hasn't really been 100%. Fatigue, one cold/upper respiratory infection after another, general grumpiness--he's a kid who needs more sleep than your average bear--he just wasn't quite right.
Ten days ago, as much as I hated to do it, we put him on antibiotics for what we thought was a sinus infection. He showed some improvement, but on the last day of the antibiotics, he started getting sick again. WTF? I barked at him that he clearly wasn't washing his hands well enough at school and then touching his T-zone. Duh! Why do you do that? Blah, blah, blah.
Sunday night brought on a low grade fever, raging sore throat, and spots on his tonsils.
Monday morning we went to the doctor and they tested for strep. But I had this nagging feeling. I asked how likely it could be that he had mono. The doctor said unlikely, but that they'd test.
Positive for mono.
Ugh.
Even though the doctor said he could play hockey--his age level doesn't check yet, and he's the goalie anyway--we decided to pull him out and forgo our trip to Vancouver. Great disappointment all around--Declan for not playing hockey with this great team, Finn for not going to Vancouver (specifically with his friend whose brother also made the team), and us for. . .let's face it, missing Vancouver. I was psyched to go there.
Another time.
So now we're waiting for Declan to stop hacking and sneezing so he can go back to school and not infect the entire student population. Will it be tomorrow? Friday? I don't know.
But I do know that a Nintendo DSi apparently makes one feel a lot better in the face of disappointment.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Beer. It's What's for Easter.
The boys and some friends enjoying a little apres ski on Easter Sunday.
I'm kidding, of course. They didn't drink beer. They did shots.
Kidding again. We would never let them do shots on Easter.
We woke up to this:
But later it cleared and we headed to the mountain, met up with some friends, and spent the day skiing.
Finn was crabby. Found out later he was getting sick. We made him keep skiing because we want our kids to be tough mountain kids. And we're clueless. And we wanted to stay until it was s'more making time at the fire pit.
We made it to the fire pit. The kids made s'mores. I ate 4 homemade gourmet marshmellows (toffee x2, vanilla bean, kahlua). I didn't drink any beer because I didn't want to ruin my preparation for my detox food plan I was starting on Monday. Apparently I didn't feel the marshmellows would be a problem.
Preparing for Easter, the day before.
We're now busy eating a lot of hardboiled eggs. Well, not me, because I'm trying to be a gluten-free vegan for the next two weeks. I'll report back on how that goes. I've discovered it's really hard to be a gluten-free vegan when you decide to make brownies for teachers during Teacher Appreciation Week. Let alone the week after Easter.
Hunting for eggs. Note the hockey bag in the background. It's usually packed away by this time of year. This year's a little different. More on that later. . .
Here's the view out the back door this morning.
At least it didn't happen on April Fool's Day.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
So. Asthma. And a Rampage About Health Care in our Country.
OK, so I touched in my last post on the fact that Finn was officially diagnosed with asthma. I'm annoyed. You know, the whole time Finn had cancer, I never asked why. Because really, why anyone? I didn't ask why my kid because it could be anyone's kid. Or husband, sister, mother, friend, etc. It sucks no matter how you slice it.
I didn't ask why when he had to get glasses.
I didn't ask why when he was diagnosed with the sensory issues.
But now, I've had it. Asthma? Seriously? Why? Why does he have to deal with something else?
This kid should have a free pass from now on as far as I'm concerned.
I'm just pissed off and annoyed. I'm annoyed that my kitchen counter once again looks like a pharmacy. I'm annoyed that he has to sit on the couch with a tube in his mouth twice a day so he can know what it's like to breathe freely like the rest of us do. I'm annoyed that his medication is currently running about $150 FOR A TWO WEEK SUPPLY--that's our share after the insurance pays it's share.
I remember when we were paying for chemo. When Finn was ready to start preschool, he was just finishing chemo, so we said to ourselves, "Well, chemo money will now be preschool money." When Finn finished preschool, we found out we had to pay for all-day kindergarten. So we said to ourselves, "Well, preschool money will now be kindergarten money." And then during kidnergarten, we had the added bonus of paying for occupational therapy for his sensory issues. Not exactly a drop in the bucket.
So this year we thought we'd be pocketing some cash for a change with no OT, no kindergarten tuition, no preschool or chemo to pay for. Ah, finally something to look forward to.
Apparently not.
I cannot get over how expensive this medication is. Granted, hopefully we'll only have to pay this outrageous price for a few months, then he'll cut down to taking it only once a day and our outlay will only be half as outrageous.
I just want you to know where I'm coming from right now.
I'm mad at the world.
And, just to get everyone really riled up, I'm so mad at the way our country is being run right now.
I'm not a Republic or Democrat. Seriously, I'm not affiliated with either party right now because frankly, they're all a bunch of crooks (and that is said with apologies to the ONE, and I mean only one, politician that I have ever encountered that I think is the real deal--really working for the people instead of himself, Hank Brown from Colorado, I interviewed him for an article and was amazed by him--but I digress).
Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, right. I'm in a rage about Republicans and Democrats alike. Nancy Pelosi? I wish a tree would fall on her. Right now. I know, I know, it's such a hateful thing to say, but I don't know how someone can stand up in front of God and country and say how hard they are working for the people when you have as much going on behind the scenes that is total bull as that woman does.
And health care reform? What a crock. What's missing from all of "their" proposed bills, plans and big ideas? Hmmm? Maybe REFORM? If I showed you the tens of thousands of dollars in health care bills lying around our house, you'd freak. Ever taken a look at what big ticket items, like, say cancer or nearly cutting off a few fingers in a saw will cost you? Medical bankruptcy. It's not just for breakfast anymore.
As an example, Eamonn has been working with the local hospital and physical therapy office to deal with the exorbitant payments we owe on his hand (and I'm not telling you all of this because I want you to feel sorry for us; I'm telling you this because it could happen to anyone. We're all just one quick medical nightmare from bankruptcy. And I want you to be mad about it so that something gets done to change it.).
So, back to Eamonn and the hand. We still owe many, many thousands of dollars to cover what insurance didn't cover. Eamonn was talking to the PT place and found out that the PT facility has already received from our insurance company MORE than it would have received from a Medicare patient. Hmmm, so someone who comes in with Medicare pays a different rate then we pay because we have different insurance? And so, because we had "better" insurance, we are left holding the bag for thousands more. Many of you may already know this. We're just discovering the joys of all of it now.
And don't even get me started about how only one person in our house (Declan) qualifies for "normal" insurance right now. The rest of us all had to go on different state plans because no one would give us covereage because of pre-existing conditions. A bad pap smear. Yep, it will keep you from getting insurance, even when the result was wrong and a biopsy proves it. They won't care.
Oh good grief. What a rambling rampage I'm on. I think the frustrating thing is that I see no light at the end of this hideous health care tunnel. If you are anything but a perfectly healthy person, you're screwed. And you may think you're healthy, but that nosebleed you had last week? Well, the insurance company is convinced you have a brain tumor and will send you a letter telling you they'll cover everything except to any current or future ear, nose, throat, brain or cancer issues.
All of these reforms people in our government are talking about? It's all just window dressing so they can say they're doing something for the people. What people???? I think it's the people with nothing. The rest of the "middle class" is totally getting screwed. I just read an article about how the privately insured will still see huge premium increases under "ObamaCare." Huge increases? I got nowhere else to go, people!
And don't get me started on the whole topic of why are our legislators designing a health care program for "the rest of us" when they won't even be using it? I want to be on their plan! Hell, I'm paying for it!
I'm going to go take a valium and calm down. Oh wait. I can't. My horrible prescription coverage makes valium too expensive.
A few deep breaths.
So my point here is to put a face on this health care dilemma. It's not just the homeless and jobless and illegal immigrants who are having trouble. It's people you know. It's my family. A two-income family that just happens to be privately insured, who has worked their asses off and has nothing but boxes of medical bills and fricking EOBs to show for it.
And has a child who has survived cancer, for which I'm grateful, just in case it sounds like I'm not. I'll trade financial solvency for my children's health any day, just so you know.
But it shouldn't have to be this way.
And so what does all of this mean in my twisted mind? Do we need government run health care? No. Why? Because no government run by either party could run it effectively, in my mind. They're all crooks and bandits and couldn't successfully run an ice cream stand at the beach in the middle of July without a whole bunch of paperwork filled out before you could purchase your artificially flavored popsicle, which was approved by the FDA, but is killing you.
What we do need is reform of the insurance industry, which frankly, will never happen because of the lobbying that goes on in this country. We need reform of the medical system simultaneously. They say they charge so much because the insurance industry reimburses too little. So frankly, they both need a kick in the ass and some good penalties to force them to get their respective acts together.
Most importantly, and more important than the ravings of a crazed woman like myself, what is happening with Finn? For now he'll need to use a nebulizer two times a day to get him straightened away and breathing normally. Hopefully we can cut that down to once a day. And then hopefully he'll grow out of it.
But until then I'll be exploring all sorts of other things--changes to diet, accupuncture, voodoo, etc.--to see if there's a better way to help him. Let's face it, did you expect that I'd do anything less than explore some whackadoo alternative medicine? Admit it--you'd be disappointed if I didn't.
Yours in Nuttiness,
Natalie
PS--I don't know how to make our government see what is happening to the "little people" and make them understand, and my frustration stems from that. Let's see if my blog post can go viral on the Internet. Send every person you can to this post and maybe I'll end up on the Today show talking about the real face of health care!
I didn't ask why when he had to get glasses.
I didn't ask why when he was diagnosed with the sensory issues.
But now, I've had it. Asthma? Seriously? Why? Why does he have to deal with something else?
This kid should have a free pass from now on as far as I'm concerned.
I'm just pissed off and annoyed. I'm annoyed that my kitchen counter once again looks like a pharmacy. I'm annoyed that he has to sit on the couch with a tube in his mouth twice a day so he can know what it's like to breathe freely like the rest of us do. I'm annoyed that his medication is currently running about $150 FOR A TWO WEEK SUPPLY--that's our share after the insurance pays it's share.
I remember when we were paying for chemo. When Finn was ready to start preschool, he was just finishing chemo, so we said to ourselves, "Well, chemo money will now be preschool money." When Finn finished preschool, we found out we had to pay for all-day kindergarten. So we said to ourselves, "Well, preschool money will now be kindergarten money." And then during kidnergarten, we had the added bonus of paying for occupational therapy for his sensory issues. Not exactly a drop in the bucket.
So this year we thought we'd be pocketing some cash for a change with no OT, no kindergarten tuition, no preschool or chemo to pay for. Ah, finally something to look forward to.
Apparently not.
I cannot get over how expensive this medication is. Granted, hopefully we'll only have to pay this outrageous price for a few months, then he'll cut down to taking it only once a day and our outlay will only be half as outrageous.
I just want you to know where I'm coming from right now.
I'm mad at the world.
And, just to get everyone really riled up, I'm so mad at the way our country is being run right now.
I'm not a Republic or Democrat. Seriously, I'm not affiliated with either party right now because frankly, they're all a bunch of crooks (and that is said with apologies to the ONE, and I mean only one, politician that I have ever encountered that I think is the real deal--really working for the people instead of himself, Hank Brown from Colorado, I interviewed him for an article and was amazed by him--but I digress).
Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, right. I'm in a rage about Republicans and Democrats alike. Nancy Pelosi? I wish a tree would fall on her. Right now. I know, I know, it's such a hateful thing to say, but I don't know how someone can stand up in front of God and country and say how hard they are working for the people when you have as much going on behind the scenes that is total bull as that woman does.
And health care reform? What a crock. What's missing from all of "their" proposed bills, plans and big ideas? Hmmm? Maybe REFORM? If I showed you the tens of thousands of dollars in health care bills lying around our house, you'd freak. Ever taken a look at what big ticket items, like, say cancer or nearly cutting off a few fingers in a saw will cost you? Medical bankruptcy. It's not just for breakfast anymore.
As an example, Eamonn has been working with the local hospital and physical therapy office to deal with the exorbitant payments we owe on his hand (and I'm not telling you all of this because I want you to feel sorry for us; I'm telling you this because it could happen to anyone. We're all just one quick medical nightmare from bankruptcy. And I want you to be mad about it so that something gets done to change it.).
So, back to Eamonn and the hand. We still owe many, many thousands of dollars to cover what insurance didn't cover. Eamonn was talking to the PT place and found out that the PT facility has already received from our insurance company MORE than it would have received from a Medicare patient. Hmmm, so someone who comes in with Medicare pays a different rate then we pay because we have different insurance? And so, because we had "better" insurance, we are left holding the bag for thousands more. Many of you may already know this. We're just discovering the joys of all of it now.
And don't even get me started about how only one person in our house (Declan) qualifies for "normal" insurance right now. The rest of us all had to go on different state plans because no one would give us covereage because of pre-existing conditions. A bad pap smear. Yep, it will keep you from getting insurance, even when the result was wrong and a biopsy proves it. They won't care.
Oh good grief. What a rambling rampage I'm on. I think the frustrating thing is that I see no light at the end of this hideous health care tunnel. If you are anything but a perfectly healthy person, you're screwed. And you may think you're healthy, but that nosebleed you had last week? Well, the insurance company is convinced you have a brain tumor and will send you a letter telling you they'll cover everything except to any current or future ear, nose, throat, brain or cancer issues.
All of these reforms people in our government are talking about? It's all just window dressing so they can say they're doing something for the people. What people???? I think it's the people with nothing. The rest of the "middle class" is totally getting screwed. I just read an article about how the privately insured will still see huge premium increases under "ObamaCare." Huge increases? I got nowhere else to go, people!
And don't get me started on the whole topic of why are our legislators designing a health care program for "the rest of us" when they won't even be using it? I want to be on their plan! Hell, I'm paying for it!
I'm going to go take a valium and calm down. Oh wait. I can't. My horrible prescription coverage makes valium too expensive.
A few deep breaths.
So my point here is to put a face on this health care dilemma. It's not just the homeless and jobless and illegal immigrants who are having trouble. It's people you know. It's my family. A two-income family that just happens to be privately insured, who has worked their asses off and has nothing but boxes of medical bills and fricking EOBs to show for it.
And has a child who has survived cancer, for which I'm grateful, just in case it sounds like I'm not. I'll trade financial solvency for my children's health any day, just so you know.
But it shouldn't have to be this way.
And so what does all of this mean in my twisted mind? Do we need government run health care? No. Why? Because no government run by either party could run it effectively, in my mind. They're all crooks and bandits and couldn't successfully run an ice cream stand at the beach in the middle of July without a whole bunch of paperwork filled out before you could purchase your artificially flavored popsicle, which was approved by the FDA, but is killing you.
What we do need is reform of the insurance industry, which frankly, will never happen because of the lobbying that goes on in this country. We need reform of the medical system simultaneously. They say they charge so much because the insurance industry reimburses too little. So frankly, they both need a kick in the ass and some good penalties to force them to get their respective acts together.
Most importantly, and more important than the ravings of a crazed woman like myself, what is happening with Finn? For now he'll need to use a nebulizer two times a day to get him straightened away and breathing normally. Hopefully we can cut that down to once a day. And then hopefully he'll grow out of it.
But until then I'll be exploring all sorts of other things--changes to diet, accupuncture, voodoo, etc.--to see if there's a better way to help him. Let's face it, did you expect that I'd do anything less than explore some whackadoo alternative medicine? Admit it--you'd be disappointed if I didn't.
Yours in Nuttiness,
Natalie
PS--I don't know how to make our government see what is happening to the "little people" and make them understand, and my frustration stems from that. Let's see if my blog post can go viral on the Internet. Send every person you can to this post and maybe I'll end up on the Today show talking about the real face of health care!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Uncle!
I'm sick. Again. A few weeks ago I had a mild head cold whose strongest symptom seemed to be fatigue, but came with a bonus side of congestion, headache and sneezing.
And now that cold is back and has taken up residence in my sinuses. I think Eamonn and the boys had it last week. I'm telling you, if Eamonn is sick, you can rest assured you're dealing with one potent set of germs. I swear he is Immune System Man--no germ ever brings him down. I can't remember the last time he took a sick day (unless you count that day after a night out with the cycling guys, but we won't go into that now). Last week he must have felt bad because he slept in. One day.
But yesterday I threw in the towel to this plague--whatever it is. It was a struggle and I didn't do it until lunchtime.
Why is it so hard for grown ups to take a sick day? What do we think will happen to the planet if we just stay in bed?
Let's face it--I work at home so really, if I'm sick, all I need to do is sit with my computer on my lap, mouth breathe to my heart's content, make the occasionaly groaning noise and just get on with work.
I tried that yesterday and I did finish my work.
I thought about the rest of my To Do list that I wanted to accomplish. It involved cleaning toilets. I really don't think there is anything more unappealing when a body is sick.
But those toilets were troubling me. Why? They'll still be there tomorrow. I had already put the stuff in (Clorox Greenworks, by the way--I'm an occasional convert). Was I worried about wasting the cleaning stuff?
Maybe I was just too lazy to go upstairs and get in bed.
But finally, I did it.
After putting dinner in the crockpot.
And cleaning the toilets.
Folding some laundry.
And setting the alarm on my phone to wake me up in time to pick up the kids.
So technically I didn't take a sick day--I took a sick 90 minutes. But then I went to bed at 5:45pm.
It's a start, I guess.
And now that cold is back and has taken up residence in my sinuses. I think Eamonn and the boys had it last week. I'm telling you, if Eamonn is sick, you can rest assured you're dealing with one potent set of germs. I swear he is Immune System Man--no germ ever brings him down. I can't remember the last time he took a sick day (unless you count that day after a night out with the cycling guys, but we won't go into that now). Last week he must have felt bad because he slept in. One day.
But yesterday I threw in the towel to this plague--whatever it is. It was a struggle and I didn't do it until lunchtime.
Why is it so hard for grown ups to take a sick day? What do we think will happen to the planet if we just stay in bed?
Let's face it--I work at home so really, if I'm sick, all I need to do is sit with my computer on my lap, mouth breathe to my heart's content, make the occasionaly groaning noise and just get on with work.
I tried that yesterday and I did finish my work.
I thought about the rest of my To Do list that I wanted to accomplish. It involved cleaning toilets. I really don't think there is anything more unappealing when a body is sick.
But those toilets were troubling me. Why? They'll still be there tomorrow. I had already put the stuff in (Clorox Greenworks, by the way--I'm an occasional convert). Was I worried about wasting the cleaning stuff?
Maybe I was just too lazy to go upstairs and get in bed.
But finally, I did it.
After putting dinner in the crockpot.
And cleaning the toilets.
Folding some laundry.
And setting the alarm on my phone to wake me up in time to pick up the kids.
So technically I didn't take a sick day--I took a sick 90 minutes. But then I went to bed at 5:45pm.
It's a start, I guess.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Germ Warfare
The germs are circling. And landing.
I'm trying to think if both boys have been in school a full week yet. It seems that someone is always here fevered, sniffling, sneezing, hacking up a lung, or camped out in the bathroom with some scary gastrointestinal ailment. No H1N1,thank goodness, but I'm nervous. Very nervous.
And so yesterday and today, I am blessed with the presence of not one, but two little people who are apparently sick of being cooped up at home (but not well enough to go back to school) and are driving each other (and me) slightly batty.
Actually, Declan is the only one with a legitimate "you're so sick you're staying home" illness. I pulled Finn from school for most of this week becasue that school is a cesspool right now. Out of 21 kids, only 7 were in Finn's class on Monday. Eight on Tuesday. I can't risk him getting sick because we go to Denver for Finn to take an asthma test tomorrow. If he's sick, they won't test him, which makes sense, but I want to get this done and over with and get some answers before the germs get any worse.
I think we're already over our sick days quota for the year. I should be getting a form letter from the district any day now.
Now, I must run and pack up all of our snow clothes for our journey down the mountain. I wonder where I left my long underwear?
I'm trying to think if both boys have been in school a full week yet. It seems that someone is always here fevered, sniffling, sneezing, hacking up a lung, or camped out in the bathroom with some scary gastrointestinal ailment. No H1N1,thank goodness, but I'm nervous. Very nervous.
And so yesterday and today, I am blessed with the presence of not one, but two little people who are apparently sick of being cooped up at home (but not well enough to go back to school) and are driving each other (and me) slightly batty.
Actually, Declan is the only one with a legitimate "you're so sick you're staying home" illness. I pulled Finn from school for most of this week becasue that school is a cesspool right now. Out of 21 kids, only 7 were in Finn's class on Monday. Eight on Tuesday. I can't risk him getting sick because we go to Denver for Finn to take an asthma test tomorrow. If he's sick, they won't test him, which makes sense, but I want to get this done and over with and get some answers before the germs get any worse.
I think we're already over our sick days quota for the year. I should be getting a form letter from the district any day now.
Now, I must run and pack up all of our snow clothes for our journey down the mountain. I wonder where I left my long underwear?
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Head Trauma, Blood and Stitches, Oh My!
We don't have an urgent care in our little town. And yesterday, for the first time ever, this was a concern. A big one.
Once a month, Finn's preschool friends get together for a "Kids' Day Out." One mom hosts all of the kids for a two hour playdate. Sometimes the moms stay and hang out, other times we drop and run.
Yesterday was my day to host. Last year I had it here at the house, but I was worried about germs this year--a lot of local kids have been sick these past weeks--so I decided to have Kids' Day Out at a local park. The park is right near our house. It's a really cool park and the kids love it.
We'd been there about 45 minutes when I heard screaming and crying. I turned to see Finn walking towards me with blood pouring down his head, face, neck--everywhere. He was crying--the screaming was coming from Declan who was freaking out.
I think I said something like, "Oh my God!"
Finn came over and I started feeling around on his head. I poured some water on him to see if I could see the wound. More screaming. And his head was literally pumping blood--I forgot how much head wounds bleed. I had a huge wad of tissues in my pocket so I pressed this to his head in the area I thought the cut was (it was hard to see through all of that hair).
Fortunately, two other adults had stayed that day so I threw the boys in the car and raced to the doctor's office, hoping they'd see us immediately. I wasn't sure if they were equipped to deal with something like this on the spur of the moment.
So we walked in and I said, "Can someone help us?" The front desk girl rushed us right back and ran through the halls (which was impressive because it looked like she was about to birth a baby any second) yelling, "Head trauma!"
Head trauma? I thought he just had a little cut. "Trauma" seemed a little over the top.
So the doctor's office was set up to deal with our "trauma." All sorts of other words were thrown around like lac, sutures, CT. I felt like I was in a episode of ER. Just as bloody, but slightly less glamorous.
It wasn't until they got through his hair that I saw how big and awful the "trauma" actually was--about five inches across and down to his skull. Ick. I had to sit down, but there wasn't really any time to be queasy. I wonder if I turned green though because the doctor asked if I needed a break. Anyway, I had to keep it together because Declan and Finn were both hysterical. In fact, I had to send Declan out of the room because he couldn't handle hearing Finn scream (which I totally understand). A friend came and picked poor Declan up and took him to her house.
I think the worst part was when he had to get the numbing shots--the wound was so big I lost count of how many sticks to the head he took trying to get that wound numbed. Seriously, I don't think I could have handled it. I don't know how he did it. But then again, I don't know how he was done a lot of things in his little life.
He was pretty uncomfortable last night, but today he seems unphased. He's playing Wii billiards as I write this.
At one point in the doctor's office, Finn said, "What did you say when I got hurt?"
Hmmm, beyond "Oh my God," I wasn't precisely sure. I hedged. But Finn wasn't to be denied: "Is it OK to say bad words in an emergency?" So now I'm wondering what really did come out of my mouth in those first hysterical moments.
And now we're all still in our pajamas and it's nearly noon.
I think the one most traumatized by all of this might be me--sort of a post-accident shock thing?
And now, since Eamonn is out of town (did I neglect to mention that part?), I have to personally clean all of the blood out of the car. Or just keep driving around town until he gets home in a car that looks like I murdered someone.
Once a month, Finn's preschool friends get together for a "Kids' Day Out." One mom hosts all of the kids for a two hour playdate. Sometimes the moms stay and hang out, other times we drop and run.
Yesterday was my day to host. Last year I had it here at the house, but I was worried about germs this year--a lot of local kids have been sick these past weeks--so I decided to have Kids' Day Out at a local park. The park is right near our house. It's a really cool park and the kids love it.
We'd been there about 45 minutes when I heard screaming and crying. I turned to see Finn walking towards me with blood pouring down his head, face, neck--everywhere. He was crying--the screaming was coming from Declan who was freaking out.
I think I said something like, "Oh my God!"
Finn came over and I started feeling around on his head. I poured some water on him to see if I could see the wound. More screaming. And his head was literally pumping blood--I forgot how much head wounds bleed. I had a huge wad of tissues in my pocket so I pressed this to his head in the area I thought the cut was (it was hard to see through all of that hair).
Fortunately, two other adults had stayed that day so I threw the boys in the car and raced to the doctor's office, hoping they'd see us immediately. I wasn't sure if they were equipped to deal with something like this on the spur of the moment.
So we walked in and I said, "Can someone help us?" The front desk girl rushed us right back and ran through the halls (which was impressive because it looked like she was about to birth a baby any second) yelling, "Head trauma!"
Head trauma? I thought he just had a little cut. "Trauma" seemed a little over the top.
So the doctor's office was set up to deal with our "trauma." All sorts of other words were thrown around like lac, sutures, CT. I felt like I was in a episode of ER. Just as bloody, but slightly less glamorous.
It wasn't until they got through his hair that I saw how big and awful the "trauma" actually was--about five inches across and down to his skull. Ick. I had to sit down, but there wasn't really any time to be queasy. I wonder if I turned green though because the doctor asked if I needed a break. Anyway, I had to keep it together because Declan and Finn were both hysterical. In fact, I had to send Declan out of the room because he couldn't handle hearing Finn scream (which I totally understand). A friend came and picked poor Declan up and took him to her house.
I think the worst part was when he had to get the numbing shots--the wound was so big I lost count of how many sticks to the head he took trying to get that wound numbed. Seriously, I don't think I could have handled it. I don't know how he did it. But then again, I don't know how he was done a lot of things in his little life.
He was pretty uncomfortable last night, but today he seems unphased. He's playing Wii billiards as I write this.
At one point in the doctor's office, Finn said, "What did you say when I got hurt?"
Hmmm, beyond "Oh my God," I wasn't precisely sure. I hedged. But Finn wasn't to be denied: "Is it OK to say bad words in an emergency?" So now I'm wondering what really did come out of my mouth in those first hysterical moments.
And now we're all still in our pajamas and it's nearly noon.
I think the one most traumatized by all of this might be me--sort of a post-accident shock thing?
And now, since Eamonn is out of town (did I neglect to mention that part?), I have to personally clean all of the blood out of the car. Or just keep driving around town until he gets home in a car that looks like I murdered someone.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
And how are you today?
I pondered this question from the gas station attendant on Saturday (yes, our little town still has a full-service gas station, and it's the cheapest gas in town--why wouldn't I go there and have someone pump my gas and wash my windows? It feels so 1950s.).
Anyway, as the attendant was washing my windows, he asked how I was.
And when I'm troubled, as I was on Saturday, I wondered: Do people really want the truth when they ask you that question?
When I was in high school and college, I worked as a lifeguard at the local pool. Mr. Kay, who I am sure has long since passed away so I feel OK using his real name, used to come each day like clockwork to swim. He'd had heart surgry and had a bad elbow, but he was very good about getting his daily exercise in.
Mr. Kay was one of those people who, if you didn't want to hear every detail of what was medically wrong with him on that day, for heaven's sake, don't ask how he is.
"How are you Mr. Kay?"
"Well, my bursitis is acting up. See how swollen it is? (Ewww, yes, I can see it's the size of a grapefruit, thanks) And I wrenched my back and had to see the chiropractor yesterday. And you know I have to have follow up surgery on my heart. I'll show you my scar when I get changed. . ."
It was a running joke amongst the staff--Don't ask Mr. Kay how he is unless you have an hour to spare. But he was a nice man and we always asked him anyway. Besides, it was kind of interesting to hear how this man was holding up.
Anyway, back to present day. So the guy at the gas station had asked a polite question. How was I? I, personally, was fine. But so many others weren't. He had no way of knowing I had just come from a funeral for an 11-month-old baby--the son of a girl I met through Bible study. He passed away very quickly earlier in the week from a Strep A infection. I hope I never have to attend a child's funeral again. It was the most awful experience to see a parent grieving for a child. When Finn was sick, we were at the lowest point in our lives, save one. And on Saturday, I saw that save one up close and personal. It was a terrible thing to behold. And I will never forget it.
When I returned home from the funeral, I received a phone call from a friend telling me that the husband of another friend of ours had died suddenly. He was only 48. They had an 8-year-old son. I couldn't get over the shock. I still can't believe it.
It's hard to imagine going on in these situations. And yet you do. That was the question people asked the most when Finn was sick: How do you do it? The answer: Because there isn't another option.
Even after the funeral and the shocking news about my friend's husband, life went on for me that day. I went to the post office and the grocery store. I was doing normal things when other people's lives were altered forever.
I bought gas.
And so when the attendant asked, "And how are you today?" I smiled and said, "I'm fine, thank you."
And I was fine. But I didn't feel fine. If that makes any sense at all.
Anyway, as the attendant was washing my windows, he asked how I was.
And when I'm troubled, as I was on Saturday, I wondered: Do people really want the truth when they ask you that question?
When I was in high school and college, I worked as a lifeguard at the local pool. Mr. Kay, who I am sure has long since passed away so I feel OK using his real name, used to come each day like clockwork to swim. He'd had heart surgry and had a bad elbow, but he was very good about getting his daily exercise in.
Mr. Kay was one of those people who, if you didn't want to hear every detail of what was medically wrong with him on that day, for heaven's sake, don't ask how he is.
"How are you Mr. Kay?"
"Well, my bursitis is acting up. See how swollen it is? (Ewww, yes, I can see it's the size of a grapefruit, thanks) And I wrenched my back and had to see the chiropractor yesterday. And you know I have to have follow up surgery on my heart. I'll show you my scar when I get changed. . ."
It was a running joke amongst the staff--Don't ask Mr. Kay how he is unless you have an hour to spare. But he was a nice man and we always asked him anyway. Besides, it was kind of interesting to hear how this man was holding up.
Anyway, back to present day. So the guy at the gas station had asked a polite question. How was I? I, personally, was fine. But so many others weren't. He had no way of knowing I had just come from a funeral for an 11-month-old baby--the son of a girl I met through Bible study. He passed away very quickly earlier in the week from a Strep A infection. I hope I never have to attend a child's funeral again. It was the most awful experience to see a parent grieving for a child. When Finn was sick, we were at the lowest point in our lives, save one. And on Saturday, I saw that save one up close and personal. It was a terrible thing to behold. And I will never forget it.
When I returned home from the funeral, I received a phone call from a friend telling me that the husband of another friend of ours had died suddenly. He was only 48. They had an 8-year-old son. I couldn't get over the shock. I still can't believe it.
It's hard to imagine going on in these situations. And yet you do. That was the question people asked the most when Finn was sick: How do you do it? The answer: Because there isn't another option.
Even after the funeral and the shocking news about my friend's husband, life went on for me that day. I went to the post office and the grocery store. I was doing normal things when other people's lives were altered forever.
I bought gas.
And so when the attendant asked, "And how are you today?" I smiled and said, "I'm fine, thank you."
And I was fine. But I didn't feel fine. If that makes any sense at all.
Monday, March 2, 2009
You've Got to Be Kidding Me
Today I'm home with not one, but two sick kids. Are you kidding me? Sore throats, fever, stomachaches.
We haven't had a school year that was this unhealthy in. . .ever. I'm just beside myself with annoyance. The key issue here, and I see it all the time in the classrooms, is that parents see no problem with sending their kids to school when they're symptomatic: "Oh, it's just a little runny nose." This is so incredibly frustrating to me.
Parents have no problem sending a note to school when it's their own issue at stake: "Johnny is allergic to all nuts, including peanuts, and also wheat, dairy, soy, eggs, and dust mites. Please do not send any of these items to school and make sure your children are well dusted. Thanks, Johnny's Mom."
OK, so I feel bad that Johnny has all of these allergies, but Johnny is the same kid who comes to school with a dribbly nose which means he's likely in the very early stages of something contagious, but Johnny's Mom has no problem sending him to school and exposing him to my immuno-suppressed kid. Guess what, Johnny's Mom? That dribbly nose, which might be something minor for Johnny, is still really contagious and is going to wipe my kid out for a week and cost me in doctor visits and time that I can't work.
Believe me, we've tried the allergy parent tack and sent home notes to parents letting them know how important it is for Finn that they not send their kids to school when they're even mildly sick. You know what? People don't care. What if I did that? What if I sent in a PB&J sandwich even after a parent made their child's food allergy known? To me, it's the same thing. It's caring enough to respect someone else's situation.
Now obviously, I would never send it a food that I thought would endanger another child. Our very good friends have a child with a severe nut allergy and frankly, I get nervous any time I serve him something to eat and I scrutinize all labels before I even open something in his presence. But my point here is that if it means keeping a kid home from school and missing work or having to arrange child care, going that extra step just doesn't seem to be important enough to people.
We do as much as humanly possible to keep our kids healthy--healthy food, lots of sleep, supplements, being really vigilant about handwashing and germs--but nothing is going to overcome kids who come to school when they're contagious and cough and sneeze all over my kids. Nothing.
The school we're at now isn't actually a peanut free school, but we have been at them in the past. And I do have to admit, those kinds of restrictions used to annoy me because I would think to myself, "Wow, if my kid's food allergy were that life threatening that he couldn't be in the same building as a nut, I'd be too nervous to let him go to school and I'd homeschool." Heck, maybe our situation is the same. Until Finn is of an age where he can totally police himself and can consistently keep his hands away from his eyes, nose and mouth (and that does tend to be hard), maybe I should stop kvetching and homeschool him.
But let's face it, no one wants to do that. And I get that. Selfishly, I just wish other parents would give my kids the same consideration I give theirs. Is that asking too much?
Sigh. I know I've raged about this before. It gets me nowhere except making me sound like I have something against kids with food allergies. Which I don't. I'll stop now. I have to go take temperatures anyway and make chicken soup.
We haven't had a school year that was this unhealthy in. . .ever. I'm just beside myself with annoyance. The key issue here, and I see it all the time in the classrooms, is that parents see no problem with sending their kids to school when they're symptomatic: "Oh, it's just a little runny nose." This is so incredibly frustrating to me.
Parents have no problem sending a note to school when it's their own issue at stake: "Johnny is allergic to all nuts, including peanuts, and also wheat, dairy, soy, eggs, and dust mites. Please do not send any of these items to school and make sure your children are well dusted. Thanks, Johnny's Mom."
OK, so I feel bad that Johnny has all of these allergies, but Johnny is the same kid who comes to school with a dribbly nose which means he's likely in the very early stages of something contagious, but Johnny's Mom has no problem sending him to school and exposing him to my immuno-suppressed kid. Guess what, Johnny's Mom? That dribbly nose, which might be something minor for Johnny, is still really contagious and is going to wipe my kid out for a week and cost me in doctor visits and time that I can't work.
Believe me, we've tried the allergy parent tack and sent home notes to parents letting them know how important it is for Finn that they not send their kids to school when they're even mildly sick. You know what? People don't care. What if I did that? What if I sent in a PB&J sandwich even after a parent made their child's food allergy known? To me, it's the same thing. It's caring enough to respect someone else's situation.
Now obviously, I would never send it a food that I thought would endanger another child. Our very good friends have a child with a severe nut allergy and frankly, I get nervous any time I serve him something to eat and I scrutinize all labels before I even open something in his presence. But my point here is that if it means keeping a kid home from school and missing work or having to arrange child care, going that extra step just doesn't seem to be important enough to people.
We do as much as humanly possible to keep our kids healthy--healthy food, lots of sleep, supplements, being really vigilant about handwashing and germs--but nothing is going to overcome kids who come to school when they're contagious and cough and sneeze all over my kids. Nothing.
The school we're at now isn't actually a peanut free school, but we have been at them in the past. And I do have to admit, those kinds of restrictions used to annoy me because I would think to myself, "Wow, if my kid's food allergy were that life threatening that he couldn't be in the same building as a nut, I'd be too nervous to let him go to school and I'd homeschool." Heck, maybe our situation is the same. Until Finn is of an age where he can totally police himself and can consistently keep his hands away from his eyes, nose and mouth (and that does tend to be hard), maybe I should stop kvetching and homeschool him.
But let's face it, no one wants to do that. And I get that. Selfishly, I just wish other parents would give my kids the same consideration I give theirs. Is that asking too much?
Sigh. I know I've raged about this before. It gets me nowhere except making me sound like I have something against kids with food allergies. Which I don't. I'll stop now. I have to go take temperatures anyway and make chicken soup.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Remember: Sleep Deprivation is a Form of Torture
Zzzzzz. Wait. What? Where am I?
Those of you with kids may recall the sleep deprivation of the early baby days. When we were in the depths of those first weeks of having two children, I remember my sister reminding me that sleep deprivation is, indeed, a form of torture. I'm probably not giving away any valuable information here, if I was to inform you that if you ever need to extract information from me? Yep. Sleep deprivation. Disturb my REM for a few nights running and I'll sing like a canary.
According to Wikipedia, my favorite--and yet possibly most frequently inaccurate--source of information: Sleep deprivation is used as an interrogation technique (for example, in Pinochet-era Chile, the Soviet Union, or by the U.S. on Guantanamo-held prisoners). Interrogation victims are kept awake for several days; when they are finally allowed to fall asleep, they are suddenly awakened and questioned [or required to run in and out of a young child's room repeatedly over the course of a night].
How did I make it through the boys' infancy, let alone Finn's cancer? I'm seriously out of sleep deprivation practice apparently. Over the course of these last nearly two weeks, Finn has gone from croup to head cold to sinus infection to ear infection. Clearly I'm no longer cut out to handle the pressure, leading me to stagger into his room after four or five times and beg him to just go to sleep and then dump a bottle of ibuprofen down his throat. It actually seems to be an effective strategy. I think I'll probably stick with it.
I'm a woman on the edge, people. On the edge. I need to go to bed, but now I'm staying up past my bedtime to watch the Top Chef finale because I forgot it was on earlier and missed it.
Clearly I have no priorities.
I wonder how long until I fall asleep and miss the ending?
Those of you with kids may recall the sleep deprivation of the early baby days. When we were in the depths of those first weeks of having two children, I remember my sister reminding me that sleep deprivation is, indeed, a form of torture. I'm probably not giving away any valuable information here, if I was to inform you that if you ever need to extract information from me? Yep. Sleep deprivation. Disturb my REM for a few nights running and I'll sing like a canary.
According to Wikipedia, my favorite--and yet possibly most frequently inaccurate--source of information: Sleep deprivation is used as an interrogation technique (for example, in Pinochet-era Chile, the Soviet Union, or by the U.S. on Guantanamo-held prisoners). Interrogation victims are kept awake for several days; when they are finally allowed to fall asleep, they are suddenly awakened and questioned [or required to run in and out of a young child's room repeatedly over the course of a night].
How did I make it through the boys' infancy, let alone Finn's cancer? I'm seriously out of sleep deprivation practice apparently. Over the course of these last nearly two weeks, Finn has gone from croup to head cold to sinus infection to ear infection. Clearly I'm no longer cut out to handle the pressure, leading me to stagger into his room after four or five times and beg him to just go to sleep and then dump a bottle of ibuprofen down his throat. It actually seems to be an effective strategy. I think I'll probably stick with it.
I'm a woman on the edge, people. On the edge. I need to go to bed, but now I'm staying up past my bedtime to watch the Top Chef finale because I forgot it was on earlier and missed it.
Clearly I have no priorities.
I wonder how long until I fall asleep and miss the ending?
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Someone Needs to Go to School Tomorrow. . .
. . .and it isn't me. Finn woke up Saturday night with croup (remind me when they stop getting croup, again?) and it turned into a sinus infection, complete with fever. The kids were off on Monday, but he has missed Tuesday and Wednesday now because of the fever. This is on top of the two days he missed a few weeks ago. Is he going to fail Kindergarten?
Don't get me wrong, the kid has been legitimately sick. A healthy child doesn't take a two hour nap and then go to bed at 7:00pm and sleep until 8:30am. I don't think that's ever happened before in his lifetime. I secretly liked it. I did not, however, like the sleeping in 15 - 20 minute spurts that has been the norm since Saturday night. In fact, Saturday night was when the croup set in and midnight found me out on the front porch in my skivvies trying to calm the inflammation in his chest with the cold night air. It worked, but my pajama pants nearly fell down in the process. Thank goodness it was dark.
But you know how it is. He still had a fever yesterday afternoon, so I wasn't outside the "24 hour no fever rule" so that I could send him to school today. And yet this morning, after his marathon sleep, he was up and rarin' to go. By 4:30pm this afternoon I was calculating how long it would be before I could get his little body full of pent up energy to bed. I let him crush me twice at Sorry to kill some time, but now, the time is 'nigh. Must run. The Sandman awaits my little wheezy lad.
As for me, I have now missed two days out of the busiest week of the year at the ski school. I fully anticipate having my ski pass revoked in retribution.
Don't get me wrong, the kid has been legitimately sick. A healthy child doesn't take a two hour nap and then go to bed at 7:00pm and sleep until 8:30am. I don't think that's ever happened before in his lifetime. I secretly liked it. I did not, however, like the sleeping in 15 - 20 minute spurts that has been the norm since Saturday night. In fact, Saturday night was when the croup set in and midnight found me out on the front porch in my skivvies trying to calm the inflammation in his chest with the cold night air. It worked, but my pajama pants nearly fell down in the process. Thank goodness it was dark.
But you know how it is. He still had a fever yesterday afternoon, so I wasn't outside the "24 hour no fever rule" so that I could send him to school today. And yet this morning, after his marathon sleep, he was up and rarin' to go. By 4:30pm this afternoon I was calculating how long it would be before I could get his little body full of pent up energy to bed. I let him crush me twice at Sorry to kill some time, but now, the time is 'nigh. Must run. The Sandman awaits my little wheezy lad.
As for me, I have now missed two days out of the busiest week of the year at the ski school. I fully anticipate having my ski pass revoked in retribution.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Home Alone 3: Sick in New York
No, I'm totally not kidding. Finn's Make A Wish trip has not gotten off to a very auspicous start. First, late leaving Denver and late into NYC because of rainstorms. . .read, a very bumpy flight which caused me to exclaim a few things I shouldn't have in front of my children. Oops.
I'll write more later about our stay at the Plaza because they were so wonderful there, but I only have 3 minutes on this Dick Turpin of a business center computer which I'm having to pay for. What the?
Anyway, Finn wasn't feeling too well last evening and finally woke in the night with ear pain. After a time of unconsolable crying, we all loaded into a cab sometime after 1am and went to an urgent care in Manhattan where we discovered he has a double ear infection. Three hours and two trips to a 24 hour pharmacy later, we were able to get back to bed at about 4am.
Needless to say, Finn wasn't up to much today, but we did get a little behind the scenes tour of the Plaza to see where "Kevin" was Home Alone in New York. At noon a limo picked us up and took us for pizza. . .except that Finn didn't feel well enough to eat it in the limo. Then we went to FAO Schwarz where he did perk up for awhile.
Then back to the hotel for nap. We had to call and skip our scheduled visit to the Empire State building because we didn't think his ears could handle the trip to the top. So MAW staff have graciously arranged for us to try again on Saturday afternoon.
After Finn napped, we went to Macy's where we found chicken soup! Happy day. Finn actually ate for the first time in about 24 hours. He seems much more cheerful now. After visiting Santaland (which was amazing) and sitting on Santa's lap (Declan, not Finn), we looked at the Macy's windows. . .in the driving rain. And then took a pedi-cab back to our hotel. . .in the driving rain. We're a bit soggy.
So our plan is still to head to the Today Show tomorrow morning, BUT we may go towards the later part of the show instead of the earliest part because we're not sure what Finn's state of health will be first thing in the morning. So set your TiVo (I don't even own TiVO so I have no idea what this even means) and hopefully we'll be on their with our sign at some point!
Must run now. Time is ticking on the meter and I have to go put on some dry underwear.
I'll write more later about our stay at the Plaza because they were so wonderful there, but I only have 3 minutes on this Dick Turpin of a business center computer which I'm having to pay for. What the?
Anyway, Finn wasn't feeling too well last evening and finally woke in the night with ear pain. After a time of unconsolable crying, we all loaded into a cab sometime after 1am and went to an urgent care in Manhattan where we discovered he has a double ear infection. Three hours and two trips to a 24 hour pharmacy later, we were able to get back to bed at about 4am.
Needless to say, Finn wasn't up to much today, but we did get a little behind the scenes tour of the Plaza to see where "Kevin" was Home Alone in New York. At noon a limo picked us up and took us for pizza. . .except that Finn didn't feel well enough to eat it in the limo. Then we went to FAO Schwarz where he did perk up for awhile.
Then back to the hotel for nap. We had to call and skip our scheduled visit to the Empire State building because we didn't think his ears could handle the trip to the top. So MAW staff have graciously arranged for us to try again on Saturday afternoon.
After Finn napped, we went to Macy's where we found chicken soup! Happy day. Finn actually ate for the first time in about 24 hours. He seems much more cheerful now. After visiting Santaland (which was amazing) and sitting on Santa's lap (Declan, not Finn), we looked at the Macy's windows. . .in the driving rain. And then took a pedi-cab back to our hotel. . .in the driving rain. We're a bit soggy.
So our plan is still to head to the Today Show tomorrow morning, BUT we may go towards the later part of the show instead of the earliest part because we're not sure what Finn's state of health will be first thing in the morning. So set your TiVo (I don't even own TiVO so I have no idea what this even means) and hopefully we'll be on their with our sign at some point!
Must run now. Time is ticking on the meter and I have to go put on some dry underwear.
Friday, November 14, 2008
I Hate You, Germs
At the rate we're going, by Christmas break we'll be receiving a notice that Finn will have to repeat kindergarten because he has missed too much school.
He missed days 3 and 4 because he apparently was exposed to something THE VERY FIRST DAY of school and had a terrible cold that became a sinus infection and then had to go on antibiotics As an aside, the nurse said she had several kids come to her office THE FIRST DAY with strep throat. But I digress. Then Finn missed half a day not too long after that when I had to take him to Glenwood to see an ENT. Then there was the infamous week out of school for the food poisioning/teacher who wouldn't let him go to the bathroom incident.
Then last week he came home with a raging case of pink eye and missed Thursday and Friday.
About mid-week this week, he was complaining of a sore throat. ARGH! And sure enough, last night he woke up with croup. Guess who was home with me today? I've got to do some serious voodoo this weekend and get him healthy because I have a spa day scheduled for Monday to finally use the certificate Marci gave me last December. I tried to use it last spring. But Finn was home sick that day. Coincidence? I think not. The germs are conspiring against me, I just know it.
If people can send notes to school saying, "Please don't bring nuts to school. My child has a severe nut allergy," can I send a note to school saying, "Please do not send your child to school sick. I know you are using school for childcare and you don't want to take a day off of work to stay home with him/her, but your child's sniffles can end up keeping my child home for a week. Please reconsider. And perhaps you could teach them about washing their hands as well?"
We did actually send a letter to parents in Declan's class when he was in kindergarten. No one gave a crap, quite frankly.
Is my annoyance showing?
He missed days 3 and 4 because he apparently was exposed to something THE VERY FIRST DAY of school and had a terrible cold that became a sinus infection and then had to go on antibiotics As an aside, the nurse said she had several kids come to her office THE FIRST DAY with strep throat. But I digress. Then Finn missed half a day not too long after that when I had to take him to Glenwood to see an ENT. Then there was the infamous week out of school for the food poisioning/teacher who wouldn't let him go to the bathroom incident.
Then last week he came home with a raging case of pink eye and missed Thursday and Friday.
About mid-week this week, he was complaining of a sore throat. ARGH! And sure enough, last night he woke up with croup. Guess who was home with me today? I've got to do some serious voodoo this weekend and get him healthy because I have a spa day scheduled for Monday to finally use the certificate Marci gave me last December. I tried to use it last spring. But Finn was home sick that day. Coincidence? I think not. The germs are conspiring against me, I just know it.
If people can send notes to school saying, "Please don't bring nuts to school. My child has a severe nut allergy," can I send a note to school saying, "Please do not send your child to school sick. I know you are using school for childcare and you don't want to take a day off of work to stay home with him/her, but your child's sniffles can end up keeping my child home for a week. Please reconsider. And perhaps you could teach them about washing their hands as well?"
We did actually send a letter to parents in Declan's class when he was in kindergarten. No one gave a crap, quite frankly.
Is my annoyance showing?
Monday, October 20, 2008
Home for Now
How many more times can I come here and post totally absurd information about Finn and school and have you keep believing me?
Is this a rhetorical question? I'm not even sure. And I'm the one writing this post.
We had such high hopes that today would bring us the answers we all sought--that Finn's OT would have a cut and dried answer for us about which room would be best for him. And that he would move there right away. Then rainbows would appear in the sky, flowers would bloom (even though I think it might be snowing), and a band of angels would burst into the Halleluah Chorus.
Yada yada yada. (That Seinfeld episode was on tonight so it's on my brain) As if.
While the OT did give an impressive summation of the classrooms and does have a recommendation, unfortunately NONE of the rooms is ideal, which of course, is realistic when you think about it. How could any of the rooms be absolutely perfect? It was silly of me to think it would be an easy thing. Surprisingly, her top recommendation isn't Mrs. Angel's classroom because of the mix of challenging kids she already has. Plus, we don't even know if the OT's top teacher pick even wants to take on the challenges that having Finn moved to her room will present. The principal didn't call me back today. Probably because she's trying to figure all of this out, too.
I feel disheartened.
To make matters worse, there was an incident between Finn and his teacher today, and I don't even have the heart to write about it tonight, that has prompted us to make the decision that Finn will not return to school until this situation is resolved. As far as we are concerned, Finn will never return to the classroom he has been in so far this year.
For now, I'm going to try to get some sleep. I drove back from a great weekend at Erin's to discover that Eamonn and Finn have a horrible stomach virus. It could be a long night.
Did I mention I feel disheartened?
Is this a rhetorical question? I'm not even sure. And I'm the one writing this post.
We had such high hopes that today would bring us the answers we all sought--that Finn's OT would have a cut and dried answer for us about which room would be best for him. And that he would move there right away. Then rainbows would appear in the sky, flowers would bloom (even though I think it might be snowing), and a band of angels would burst into the Halleluah Chorus.
Yada yada yada. (That Seinfeld episode was on tonight so it's on my brain) As if.
While the OT did give an impressive summation of the classrooms and does have a recommendation, unfortunately NONE of the rooms is ideal, which of course, is realistic when you think about it. How could any of the rooms be absolutely perfect? It was silly of me to think it would be an easy thing. Surprisingly, her top recommendation isn't Mrs. Angel's classroom because of the mix of challenging kids she already has. Plus, we don't even know if the OT's top teacher pick even wants to take on the challenges that having Finn moved to her room will present. The principal didn't call me back today. Probably because she's trying to figure all of this out, too.
I feel disheartened.
To make matters worse, there was an incident between Finn and his teacher today, and I don't even have the heart to write about it tonight, that has prompted us to make the decision that Finn will not return to school until this situation is resolved. As far as we are concerned, Finn will never return to the classroom he has been in so far this year.
For now, I'm going to try to get some sleep. I drove back from a great weekend at Erin's to discover that Eamonn and Finn have a horrible stomach virus. It could be a long night.
Did I mention I feel disheartened?
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
It's 9 o'clock and all's well. . .
. . .except that Finn just got out of bed for about the third time to tell me that the fifth graders are coming to read with his class tomorrow. Great excitement. This right after he told me school is too long. I recall feeling the same way in my youth. Now I find that school really isn't long enough, quite frankly. Or perhaps I have signed up to do a few too many things.
The Swinging Before School strategy seems to be holding. Our plan is to keep it up until the snow flies. Which actually could be pretty soon.
Finn had his first occupational therapy session yesterday and it was pretty cool to watch. Megan, Finn's occupational therapist, started by swinging him on a portable swing she hung in the doorway of our mud room. It was a basic swing like you'd see at a park (except it had a nylon seat as opposed to a rubber one. Or are they plastic?). Then she switched the swing to a big net, which Finn though was hilarious. She wrapped him in a blanket to act as strong pressure, which is soothing to him, and then swung him like that. These activities were to calm him before therapy. Still using the net she had him get on his stomach and swing. His arms were out and he had to hold his head up and catch a ball--good core strengthening activity. I could use some of that myself.
Over the course of the session, it was interesting to watch how Finn went from the calm activities, to ones that got him more stimulated from a sensory standpoint. The one that got him most excited was when he got to feel around for plastic animals in a giant bin of macaroni. After several more activities, Megan calmed him back down again with more swinging and some quiet music. Again, the science behind all of this is mind boggling. His next session is next Tuesday morning. We're waiting for a permanent time slot as other kids finish up their therapy, but we're grateful for what we can get right now.
Declan went back to school yesterday. I'm still trying to get caught up. Some day. Perhaps instead of sitting here watching Karate Kid II I should be working. I used to think Ralph Macchio was such a hottie. He's actually kind of wimpy in these movies. And wasn't he about 43 when he made them? Then when he hit puberty at 46, they had to stop. And that's why there are only nine Karate Kid movies instead of 10. Hormones.
The Swinging Before School strategy seems to be holding. Our plan is to keep it up until the snow flies. Which actually could be pretty soon.
Finn had his first occupational therapy session yesterday and it was pretty cool to watch. Megan, Finn's occupational therapist, started by swinging him on a portable swing she hung in the doorway of our mud room. It was a basic swing like you'd see at a park (except it had a nylon seat as opposed to a rubber one. Or are they plastic?). Then she switched the swing to a big net, which Finn though was hilarious. She wrapped him in a blanket to act as strong pressure, which is soothing to him, and then swung him like that. These activities were to calm him before therapy. Still using the net she had him get on his stomach and swing. His arms were out and he had to hold his head up and catch a ball--good core strengthening activity. I could use some of that myself.
Over the course of the session, it was interesting to watch how Finn went from the calm activities, to ones that got him more stimulated from a sensory standpoint. The one that got him most excited was when he got to feel around for plastic animals in a giant bin of macaroni. After several more activities, Megan calmed him back down again with more swinging and some quiet music. Again, the science behind all of this is mind boggling. His next session is next Tuesday morning. We're waiting for a permanent time slot as other kids finish up their therapy, but we're grateful for what we can get right now.
Declan went back to school yesterday. I'm still trying to get caught up. Some day. Perhaps instead of sitting here watching Karate Kid II I should be working. I used to think Ralph Macchio was such a hottie. He's actually kind of wimpy in these movies. And wasn't he about 43 when he made them? Then when he hit puberty at 46, they had to stop. And that's why there are only nine Karate Kid movies instead of 10. Hormones.
Monday, September 22, 2008
I Hope it Lasts!
I think our OT might be a Super Genius. Remember I wrote about her idea to take Finn to the playground and swing him before school? Holy cow. It worked! I hadn't heard back from the school principal to see if we'd be allowed to use the school swings, so we walked to the pocket park near our house this morning. Granted, it was actually away from school, but it was actually nice because there weren't any kids there. They were all on their way to school!
On the way to the park, Finn talked about not wanting to go to school. We got to the swings. . .and within two minutes of starting to swing, his whole body posture changed. He relaxed, started looking around and was commenting on things going on in the neighborhood. I couldn't believe it. He chattered on as if he hadn't just been complaining minutes before.
We got 10 good minutes of swinging in and at the appointed time, he hopped off and we headed towards school. Only once on the walk to school did he comment, "I'll miss you at school." Other than that, he chattered on the way to school as if was a kid without a care in the world. I was holding my breath, quite frankly, but the good spirits seemed to hold. In line, he held my hand, but wasn't tearful--the first morning I felt like this was the case.
Really, the difference was astounding. Seeing that actual, physical change come over him was like. . .heck, I can't even think how to describe it. I wish I understood more about the science of it all, but then again, I didn't do very well in science and probably wouldn't really get it anyway. I'm just glad it worked.
In the end, we do have permission to use the school swings in the morning, but I think the park might be more our speed. We'll just have to leave a little earlier in the morning. When the weather gets colder, Eamonn said he'll hang a swing in the basement, but a mini-trampoline, rocking chair, or a yoga ball can accomplish the same things. Very cool.
On the uncool side of things, Declan was home sick today. I can't even remember the last time these two were sick and now both in a two week period. I hope this isn't a sign of things to come this winter.
On the way to the park, Finn talked about not wanting to go to school. We got to the swings. . .and within two minutes of starting to swing, his whole body posture changed. He relaxed, started looking around and was commenting on things going on in the neighborhood. I couldn't believe it. He chattered on as if he hadn't just been complaining minutes before.
We got 10 good minutes of swinging in and at the appointed time, he hopped off and we headed towards school. Only once on the walk to school did he comment, "I'll miss you at school." Other than that, he chattered on the way to school as if was a kid without a care in the world. I was holding my breath, quite frankly, but the good spirits seemed to hold. In line, he held my hand, but wasn't tearful--the first morning I felt like this was the case.
Really, the difference was astounding. Seeing that actual, physical change come over him was like. . .heck, I can't even think how to describe it. I wish I understood more about the science of it all, but then again, I didn't do very well in science and probably wouldn't really get it anyway. I'm just glad it worked.
In the end, we do have permission to use the school swings in the morning, but I think the park might be more our speed. We'll just have to leave a little earlier in the morning. When the weather gets colder, Eamonn said he'll hang a swing in the basement, but a mini-trampoline, rocking chair, or a yoga ball can accomplish the same things. Very cool.
On the uncool side of things, Declan was home sick today. I can't even remember the last time these two were sick and now both in a two week period. I hope this isn't a sign of things to come this winter.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
It's Deja Vu All Over Again
Last Wednesday night, the night before the first day of school, I finished my work that night and quietly did a little yippee dance because with both boys now in school all day, I no longer have to stay up late at night and work. No, now I can do more useful things like surf the Internet, make Eamonn rub my feet and watch real life crime shows like 48 hours and worry about what is wrong with people today.
Then Finn apparently picked up a whacking great head cold on his first day of school.
It's 8:24pm MST. And I am starting my work for tomorrow. Sigh.
Then Finn apparently picked up a whacking great head cold on his first day of school.
It's 8:24pm MST. And I am starting my work for tomorrow. Sigh.
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