Night on the town

You know how sometimes you get yourself all excited and worked up about some upcoming event, and then the actual event can't meet exceptions? I was a little worried that I was going to experience something of the sort this past week. John Cleese, one of my favorite comedic actors of all times, was putting on a live show, and we were going. As a date. With dinner before hand. No toddler. I had been looking forward to this for 2 months, when I first saw the advertisement in the paper. I had the tickets purchased before I was over my disbelief that this was real.

And, I was concerned that the show would fall flat. That the comedic genius wouldn't transfer from the screen to the stage. That my husband and I would get to dinner, and find ourselves unable to talk about anything except Bobby and his lack of interest in pooping in the potty.

Well, it was a fantastic time. The evening did not get off to an auspicious start, as we left to screams of "Mommy, Daddy! Daddy!" Luckily we are heartless enough that the thoughts of Bobby and his babysitter having a rough night did not deter us from enjoying a delicious dinner at an upscale sushi place. With actual adult conversation that did not include the word potty.

But John Cleese. What a lovely, funny old man. He seemed delighted by how much people still admire him. He talked for 2 hours, even answering questions from the audience at the end. And when it was over we went home to a sweetly sleeping little boy. What more can you ask for? Expectations met and exceeded!

Time for a change

Let me tell you what - this falling back thing can suck it. Toddlers don't know that they are supposed to sleep an hour later, nor do cats realize that their feeding times have been bumped back by an hour.

Here is a math problem for you - say you have worked hard to get your toddler to stay asleep until 6 am. yes, I know 6 am is not considered sleeping in by most circles, but 6am is volumes better than say 5 am. Now, turn the clocks back an hour. What time will said toddler wake up now? Today, with much effort, and 15 minutes of listening to "Mommy, mommy, mommy!" I kept him in the crib until 5:20. Then we snuggled in the grown-up bed for another 10 minutes, until he firmly (and reasonably) said "It's time to play now. Downstairs!"

Not to mention that having it be pitch black at 5 pm is making me want to slit my wrists.

Anyway, what is the point? I know switching the clocks an hour earlier was supposed to do something with fuel savings back in WWI, but dude, it's not 1918 anymore. I mean Arizona doesn't subscribe to this nonsense. Let's just spring forward once more next year, and stay there. Longer evenings rock. Not confusing the cows, toddlers, and house pets of the world -priceless.

Also, having to work night shift the night of the time change? The hour of double time did not make me feel any better about having to live the hour between 1 and 2 twice, or make a 13.5 hour shift go by any faster.

Yes, the glass can be half full

My plans for today involved a run and planting 100+ bulbs that just arrived yesterday. The weather's plan for today? Dark, chilly and wet. Not buckets of wet like last week, but not inviting to a morning spent outdoors. Does anyone else ever feel like the weather has a personal vendetta against them? That sentence probably speaks volumes about my personality.

Well, looking on the bright side, if I make it to Greenlake, I will probably have it mostly to myself.

I'm trying to spend more time focusing on the positives, instead of constantly harping on how much everything sucks, sucks, sucks. Because, really, I have a pretty nice life.

This comes out a lot when thinking about work. My job is great, except that I work night shift. Nothing I can say really makes me happy about working night shift. Sure the money is nice, but money doesn't really make up for the stress of my body never really knowing if it should be awake or a sleep. Plus, it has cut way into family time.

BUT, the positive spin is that my job no longer makes me want to drink. Sure, a day of watching my mini-dictator pull my perfectly pulled out plans to shreds has me reaching for the wine glass at bed time. But, now I leave my job, happy to go home and crawl into my cozy bed, but not usually feeling like I have been thrown through the spun cycle, wrung out, and left hanging out to dry. I might even be in a good mood. And that is a huge thing.

Unrelated, I have just started re-reading Pride and Prejudice for about the 50th time. I just finished reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which I thought might provide some amusement. Instead, I realized that the only parts I enjoyed were Jane's original words. Not Elizabeth eating the still beating heart of her opponent. Apparently, I am a purest. Good thing I got it out of the library, because I would have been sad to spend any money on it. Also, I somehow doubt that I will be reading Sense and Sensibility and Sea monsters. The books are much more hilarious in concept than in execution. The bright side is that I remembered how much I enjoy Elizabeth and Darcy when they are not sparring with deadly intent, and have a few hours of pleasurable reading ahead of me. Happy Friday.

Outbreak

It has been constant swine flu triage lately at work. Seriously.

Swine flu is bad news for pregnant women, and our docs have instituted the policy that any patient with flu/cold symptoms needs to be triaged either through the clinic or after hours, through L&D. I'm sure that the clinics are swamped, but man it sure seems like flu symptoms inevitably appear at 1 am. I am eagerly awaiting the arrival of the vaccine, because while I generally don't seem to get the flu (even when not vaccinated, and caring for my sick, sick husband), I am also not usually surrounded by this many infectious, coughing folk. Yes, I gown, mask and glove, but I would hate to bring a nasty virus home to my toddler. I would also hate to bring it home to my husband, but as an adult, I figure his immune system can take it a little better.

We have had some very sick women on our floor. We sent one (who also has asthma) to the ICU, and I almost sent another one last night (who was otherwise healthy before the flu). At one point her O2 sats were 77% on 100% non-rebreather O2. Most of us walk around at 98-100% on regular old room air. Most of us can get by with sats above 93%. Pregnant women need to maintain sats of 95% to adequately oxygenate their baby. Luckily, RT came and worked their magic, and she was able to stay with us. I know of at least 2 pregnant women who have died from H1N1 in Western WA. Whatever pregnancy does to the immune system to keep it from attacking the growing fetus, it also puts women at higher risk from this novel virus.

Let me just put a little public service announcement out there. If you are pregnant, or considering becoming pregnant, I highly, highly encourage you to get the vaccine. You need to wait for the shot, because the newly available mist contains live viruses and is not recommended for pregnant folks. Wash your hands a lot, and try not to get coughed on until then. And if you do notice any flu/cold symptoms get in touch with your provider as soon as possible. Sooner if you have a high fever, chest pain or difficulty breathing.

Also, to the health care workers who are dithering about getting the H1N1 vaccine, just suck it up, and do it already. That goes double if you work with pregnant ladies (or any high risk population). It is one thing to be casual about your own health, but to risk exposing others who might suffer far more seems slightly irresponsible to me.

Sick children (but not my own)

We have had a confirmed case of H1N1, aka swine flu, in our NICU. Ok, so bad, bad news. The reaction of our management? Put all pregnant, laboring and post-partum patients into a reverse isolation where anyone entering their room has to wear a mask. Hello, I'm your nurse, let me coach you through contractions, with half my face covered. Ok, now I am going to help you push for 4 hours, with half my face covered. Here, let me spending 45 minutes helping you breast feed your 37 week baby, with half my face covered.

I am sure that it is going to help our therapeutic communication skills a lot.

It's hard to know if we are being proactive/cautious, or totally overreacting. I want to put up a big sign for patients "Our nurses and physicians will be wearing masks. All of them. All of the time. For your safety. It isn't personal, or anything." And maybe decorate my mask to look like a pig nose.

I had a difficult night a few weeks ago. I was caring for a couple, who was having their 2nd child. They were lovely people, and it was a beautiful birth. But there were moments when I really didn't want to be there, because during discussion, it was revealed that their older child was at Children's with a brain stem tumor. This boy is the same age as Bobby, and I think his prognosis is very, very poor. When the couple was telling me about everything that they had been through in the past few months, I kept seeing my toddler in the ICU for a month, with a trach, and feeding tube. I held it together for the shift, and I would hope, that if anything, I manage to provide even more attentive care than normal, but I had a pretty hard cry on the drive home. I hope that this new baby brings them some joy even in the midst of all the other crap that they are enduring.

After that, I needed the lovely weather that Seattle has been throwing our way. Maybe it's thanks to our polluting ways, but the sun keeps making a comeback here. Many, many perfect fall days, perfect for running, hiking or just chasing a toddler around the zoo. Hopefully my batteries are recharged for my next 3 nights on the job.

Last Gasps of Summer

The weather this weekend has been fantastically gorgeous. Sunny, upper 60s, beautiful. Tomorrow, however, a dark cloud is supposed to come, dumping cold, cold rain on us all week long. I had big hopes for this weekend - plans of a family bike ride come to mind. But then, I managed to wrench my back mulching the yard last week, and then spent a night flipping a large, laboring woman like a pancake (baby kept having decels, but managed to keep it together enough to be born via traditional route, thus breaking my string of C-sections. Hurrah.) Anyway, I am able to limp around, bolstered by vitamin I and Acetaminophen, but riding a bike is out of the question. What else could we do to enjoy some precious family time, while taking advantage of what might be our last chance to synthesis vitamin D until next June?

Take the toddler to a overpriced, family farm/fair extravaganza. I say overpriced, but to be honest, we got 3 hours of toddler/parental entertainment out of it, and once you paid the entry fee, all the kiddie rides were included. Bobby was unstoppable, feeding the pygmy goats, riding the train, "driving" a car around a track, and in a surprise move to his parents, enjoying his first pony ride.

We spent a long time feeding the goats. I think the goats were so full of alfalfa pellets that they were ready to explode. These baby pygmy goats were so stinking cute that I was tempted to stuff one into the pack and sneak it home.


Here he is "driving." He took his role very seriously, as you can tell.


Enjoying alternative methods of transportation. Are pumpkin carriages green?


Bobby and Rhubarb the pony. They seemed to get on reasonably well.

He talks pretty

Bobby is in the middle of a language explosion, and I am constantly reminded how quickly kids pick stuff up. Last night we were at one of Seattle's lovely 5 way, stop-signed regulated intersections. As usual, drivers were having a hard time figuring out right of way, and there were pedestrians thrown in to the mix. So we were sitting there, waiting our turn, when I hear a loud "Come on people, just go," coming from the back seat. Heh.

Yes, I tend to get impatient with other drivers. I guess my 2 year old does too.

This morning we had another example of the language explosion going on in toddler-land. It was 6:30, and I was setting up the t.v. for Yo Gabba Gabba, which by the way, is toddler crack, and has replaced Sesame Street in my son's heart. At the same time, the cats were channeling jaws, and circling my feet, demanding their am bowl of kibble.

From the 3 ft dictator "No cats! Not Now! Mommy's busy!" I guess he was worried that I would be distracted by those wily cats, and forget to turn on DJ Lance. Also makes me wonder how many times he's heard "Not now, mommy's busy" when he is waiting for something.