sueeeus

This holiday has really thrown me for a loop. I haven’t been this sick in donkey’s years. The good thing about being sick is that it has forced me to slow down; to stop. Just stop. I’ve spent many hours just thinking, praying, thinking, and praying some more. I think it’s been good for me. Of course the vicoden helps put me into that reflective frame of mind. It does an excellent job of taking the pain away. But I tend to get a sick-to-my-stomach feeling, too. That could be from the antibiotics, though. Either way, I’ve got meds to help me through and I’m on the road to recovery. I’ve written pages and pages in my paper journals, and I even read a book (Lamb, by Christopher Moore, subtitled The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal). The book was something that would probably offend some or many mainstream Christians, but I enjoyed it. Moore did his research well, which impressed me. It’s a down to earth and funny story. Okay, so the conservative Christian in me had a hard time with a few places here and there, but all in all it was well done, and I have to say I am impressed –the man had to have done some extensive study of scriptures to come up with the tale he spun.

Lady Linoleum has a daunting and impressive list of resolutions. I was thinking of putting some together, but am waffling now. Maybe tomorrow I’ll give it some more thought.

The year is coming to a close. I haven’t even made a post about our Christmas. That’s the problem with being sick. Too sick to even blog. What is the world coming to

My husband, the cool cat, every once in a while makes a comment that I must only post pictures of things that are important to me on my blog, and wonders why there are no pictures of him. “I see how it is,” he says. Of course, he won’t be looking over my shoulder when I post this picture, so he won’t know that he has, in fact, appeared on my blog.
My bestest boys, Santa and the slobber Elf (Christmas Eve at Grandma’s house). They’re both pretty cute, I have to say.

…the realization that I’m usually sick on holidays. This goes back as far as I can remember. The sickest I’ve ever been has always been on a holiday or break. As far back as high school, and college. I’d never be sick, until break time, when whatever stored up depletions (is that an oxymoron ) would band together and hit me with the full might of their fury. This may be a trait I share with my dad. To his credit, he never missed a day of work in his life. He would get sick from time to time, but always on a break or a holiday. Is it will Willing oneself not to be sick, holding it at bay until one’s duties are fulfilled

I’ve been in the working world for 20 years, and my company provides sick leave. It’s okay to miss work once in a while. But I rarely do. Instead, I get sick on holidays and vacations. How smart is that This is MY time. My precious time. I get so little time off. It shouldn’t be spent being sick.

What a day. What a week. This one wiped me out. So much work. So little sleep. My brain is like goo. I had all these great intentions of getting other things done this week. My poor little love bug is all sniffly and under the weather. There are two new kids at the daycare. Carriers, the both of them. I’m certain of it. It’s okay, I guess. Some exposure is good for building a strong immune system. And his is fairly strong. He doesn’t like sweets, so I have to be very creative in attempting to dose him with infant decongestant. He hasn’t been sleeping very well, either. Poor little guy. He’s normally such a happy boy. It’s hard to see him hurting. Those tears are so heartbreaking.
What a face. He has so many new expressions, and they are so funny! He’s trying to be a tough guy. But I know better. He’s a love.

Weekend plan: get some SLEEP!

I’ve recovered from yesterday’s pity-party-of-one. On a somewhat good note, Buggaboo’s strawberry broke open again this afternoon, but barely bled at all. When I saw the first trickle I jumped for a towel, but it only bled a few drops, and re-clotted on its own. Maybe it will heal swiftly now. Fingers are crossed.

What a day. The strawberry broke. I wasn’t prepared for the sight of so much blood. I knew there would be blood, but how can it not be a shock to look at your baby and see their face completely covered in bright red blood, with more blood streaming steadily, on and on It bled for nearly TWO HOURS. It completely saturated a 16″x16″ microfiber towel. We were on our way to the in-laws for a birthday celebration. I don’t know if he rubbed his eyes or rubbed his face against the seat belt shoulder strap. He was asleep and it happened in the blink of an eye. We went to the emergency room. I was distressed that he was gushing so much blood and didn’t know what to do, since it wouldn’t stop bleeding. It’s not a bit like what you see on shows like ER or Gray’s Anatomy. It took nearly two hours to see a doctor. The triage nurse saw him in the first 20 minutes, took his weight and blood pressure and told me to keep on putting pressure on it, just as I was already doing. He bled on and on. He fell asleep. Still bleeding. At least he held still better when he was sleeping. He didn’t like me holding the towel to his face and kept squirming while he was awake. It stopped bleeding just before the doctor saw him. Diagnosis Bleeding Hemangioma. Yes, I know. Treatment Plan A. If it happens again, apply pressure until the bleeding stops. It will eventually heal on its own. Plan B. Anesthetize and Cauterize – inject a needle that close to my baby’s eye, to numb the area, then burn him and leave a lifetime scar We chose Plan A. During last Monday’s checkup our doctor had told me that it could break open and it would bleed, and it would probably grow back, and eventually it would diminish and disappear on its own. She just didn’t mention how much it would bleed, and what to do if it did. I was expecting something I could put a bandaid on. I did tell Mr. Man that the treatment is to wait it out, that it would eventually heal on its own. He wasn’t too impressed with that solution, but in the ER, hearing the doctor pose Plan A and Plan B, he was amenable to Plan A. Go figure. (But I’m glad that he was no longer adamant about more drastic action such as Plan B.)

We made it to the birthday celebration an hour and a half late. We have another new mom in the family. Her little guy is 2 weeks old and she herself is looking fabulous, as though she’d never even been pregnant. She’s had no trouble at all nursing. I’m so jealous. Really. The little guy knew just what to do. He latches like a pro and drains her efficiently, in 10-15 minutes. TEN MINUTES! I remember our struggle, where Buggaboo would chew me raw for 30-40 minutes at a time, every two hours, and hardly draw anything out. I’d have to pump afterwards, another 15-20 minutes. Clean up the bottles and get them ready for the next round. 5-10 minutes. Then do it all again. Do the math. I spent over 12 hours a day trying to feed my baby. How I longed to be a breast-feeding mother! I tried SO hard, with nipple shields, a tiny feeding tube along side the nipple, or against my finger. There were so many obstacles. The breasts were too big, which made it difficult to position him. The nipples were too big for his sweet little mouth. He couldn’t get a good latch. The milk didn’t come in well and he didn’t have the patience to try to draw it out, and I just didn’t produce enough milk. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so emotionally difficult had I not had my heart set on being a breast-feeding mother. And to see this new mom and her little guy sail so smoothly into it! I’m so happy for them, truly, and surprised at my concurrent feelings of jealousy. In the self-pity confines of my mind, my selfish thoughts are why couldn’t it have been that easy for me

I feel drained.

It is bigger. This distresses me.

She was right. The doctor confirmed it to be a strawberry hemangioma, but not to be worried. It should go away on its own in due course, but we shall keep an eye on it, in case it becomes very large and obstructs vision.

This icky red thing showed up on my face a couple of weeks ago. My mama thought it was a speck of fluff at first, then she thought it was a scab because I have a tendency to scratch myself these days. I try, but my hands just don’t go exactly where I want them to. This ugly thing got bigger and bigger.

My mama did some reading and she thinks this is a strawberry hemangioma, but we’re going to the doctor tomorrow to find out. I wish it would go away so she would stop worrying.