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Archive for the ‘Medical Situations’ Category

When we were moving to Cincinnati from South Carolina, my children’s pediatrician told me that Cincinnati had one of the top children’s hospitals in the U.S.  Of course, I’m a pessimist, so naturally I think, “Greeeeaaat…God’s probably sending us there because our kids are going to need a good hospital in the near future!”  Well, my pessimistic outlook was right on, even though I should have looked at it this way.  “Awesome!  God is placing us right where we need to be in order for our children to get the best medical care possible!”  Yeah, I’m really trying to work on my attitude!

I have to say that our overall experience with Cincinnati Children’s Hospital has been a positive one.  Okay, truthfully, I can’t think of one bad thing to say about them!  I don’t think things could have gone more smoothly.

Dr. Elluru is absolutely WONDERFUL.  He is very friendly and personal and the first time we met him, I felt so much better about putting my child in his caring hands.  He didn’t want to rush into putting ear tubes in Madison’s ears, and monitored her ears over the last couple of months.  I was really impressed that he didn’t want to just jump the gun on that one!  I mean, more surgeries = more $!

He really is a gifted doctor in every way.  He even spent time holding little America before going into surgery with Madison.  He did keep trying to talk us into letting him take her home, but of course, we’re already too attached now!  (If he only knew what I went through to have this one!  I think I’m still a little traumatized by that labor, but that’s another story for another time).  The funny thing is, Dr. Elluru has two daughters, and they both share the same first names as our Kelly and our America, (not blog names of course!) spelled the same ways too. 

Anyway, we showed up an hour early for Madison’s surgery and they checked all her vitals.  When she started to show some nervousness, the nurse let her pick out a toy.  They brought us in a room where we spent the next hour.  They had a flat screen tv up on the wall in front of Madison’s bed and she was able to watch Sesame street while we waited.  They also brought in some toys for her to play with.

When the anesthesiology rep showed up, she brought in a doll (Madison called her Dora because she had dark hair about the same length as Dora the Explorer), and some masks.  She let Madison put the various sized masks on the “Dora” doll and then sprayed some “scents” on a paper towel and let Madison pick her favorite. 

Of course, during this time, we had several people come in and ask us the same questions over and over again, including, “What is Madison having done today?”  And then it was time for Madison to go back to another room for the anesthesia.  We decided beforehand that Scott would go back with Madison (after they told us what we can expect to happen when they start the anesthesia). 

It actually worked out perfectly, because I kept busy that entire 5 minutes getting all of our stuff together and putting the sleeping baby in her car seat so I’d be ready to be escorted to the waiting room when they returned.  In the meantime, Scott stayed strong as Madison started crying, fighting the mask.  It was only about 30 seconds before she was knocked out, but he came back looking…emotional.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with that expression on his face.  I was SO glad I didn’t go back.  No doubt I would have been bawling when I walked out that room.  I actually had a hard time not crying just letting her go anyway!

Anyway, we had to report ourselves at a desk in the waiting room where this lady gave us a pager just incase we wanted to go downstairs to get something to eat.  She told us it would be about an hour to an hour and twenty minutes.  “What?!?”  Dr. Elluru told us it was only about a 10 minute deal!   Well…the surgery itself was, but when you factor in putting in the IV and all the other stuff they have to do…yeah, it made sense.

So I called my mom and told her not to worry and that the surgery was going to be longer than expected.  I’d call back when things were done.  Then we decided it was just too quiet in the waiting room and decided to go downstairs.  They had a little food bar there and we each picked out a sandwich, I grabbed some chips, and drinks…oh, and Scott got a Broccoli/Cheese soup for us to share.  Way too much food, but picking it all out kept us preoccupied.

And we sat down to eat.  The food was actually pretty good.  If only they’d made the hospital food that tasty when I’d had Madison…maybe I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to go home!  ;)

Just as we were about to head back up, the pager buzzed.  (I’d asked Scott earlier if he had the “vibrator” where he could feel it and you know he didn’t let that one go…I was thinking “pager”, but that it was going to vibrate, and called it a vibrator.  MEN!)

Anyway, we headed upstairs where they escorted us to a consult room.  Dr. Elluru met us in there and talked about the surgery…and then he and Scott got into their Blackberry’s.  (Boys and their toys!).  We talked a little bit more about other things and then he left.  We were then taken immediately to the recovery room, where we found Madison propped up in her bed, leaning her back against the nurse’s chest.  I was a bit shocked at her swollen and dark mouth.  I know it makes sense to expect that, but I guess I just thought I’d walk in and her birthmark would look lightened and that’s it. 

“I am in love!”  Kathy told us.  She started bragging about how Madison was a model patient and then distracted me from feeling bad about Madison’s swollen mouth.  She wanted to keep Madison.  She said she woke up and immediately looked her her hand with the IV which was taped to a board. 

“I stuck!”  She told the nurse.  “Help me! I stuck!”

Kathy got such a kick out of that!  So she took out Madison’s IV and held her while she waited for us to get in the room.  We went over some stuff with Kathy, she answered our questions and gave us instructions on caring for Madison, especially over the next 24 hours.  And then we were free to go! 

So we drove Madison home and let her relax to her favorite movies.  I eventually took her up to my room for a nap and after she woke up from her nap, she sat straight up again and looked at me yelling, “I stuck!  I stuck!”  She must have thought she was back at the hospital.  The only way I could convince her she wasn’t stuck was by making her look at her hand. 

“No you’re not.  Look!  Look at your hand!”  I said. 

She looked and realized she wasn’t really stuck, and then she was ready to get up! 

So everything went very smoothly.  The worst part was that night when she woke up screaming bloody murder.  I don’t know what it was all about, but Scott jumped out of bed and got her and brought her into bed with us.  She kept telling us the “snake” bit her, and grabbed her neck.  The poor girl was shaking, I don’t know if it was from fear, pain, or being cold.  I pulled her up to me and grabbed the Tylenol.  She put her hand on her mouth and cried out, saying it hurt.  But 30 minutes later she was calmed down and drifted back to sleep, alternating between me and Scott with her “cuddles.” 

So, Madison is doing well.  The swelling has gone down for the most part.  She did wake up from her nap yesterday with some swelling and told me to “get it off.”  But after I gave her some Tylenol, it went back down and she was fine.  Today she’s the same little rascal she’s been the last 4 months…she’s reached her terrible two’s early…not fun!

Anyway, I’m so thankful for Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, the great nurses and staff, and Dr. Elluru.  God certainly did place us where we needed to be at the right time.  We’ll decide with Dr. Elluru in 3 -4 months if Madison will need to go back in for another laser treatment, but for now, we are just letting her heal and enjoying our last week of summer before school starts up again!

Now, I have to brace myself for Kelly’s turn.  She still needs surgery on her hand…and that one is probably going to be longer than an hour.  Ugh!  My poor little girls!

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Anyone ever suffered from this?  It hit me this weekend and even right now I feel like I need to kick my legs or shake my arms.  I found this website  and it does say pregnant women can suffer from this, as well as people with low iron.  Soooooooooo, maybe I should be taking my iron pills more regularly!  (Maybe I should just be taking them, period!)

I started a post earlier this afternoon, but kids and fatigue got in the way of its completion, so hopefully tomorrow I will be able to post it.

As of right now, I’m going to try to get my kids to bed so I can actually kick relax on the couch for a bit!

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Just when I thought I couldn’t go anymore, I was told I had to.  I called the doctor’s office to let them know that Madison is not responding to her inhaler very well.  She freaks out every time it’s time for her treatment.  I asked them if we could switch to a nebulizer because she didn’t seem to mind doing that as much.  That and I wasn’t sure how much of the inhaler she is actually inhaling since she seems to hold her breath when I place the inhaler mask on her face. 

So the doctor decided that since she is still breathing rapidly and wheezing a bit, that he wanted her to get a chest x-ray to rule out pneumonia.  So I got myself looking somewhat presentable and then headed for the bus stop to pick up Joshua, and then off to the the Cincinnati Children’s hospital we went. 

Actually, we went the opposite direction of the hospital at first, until I figured out how to get my GPS to locate that specific hospital, and then we stopped through a drive thru, because I just knew if I didn’t, the kids would moan and groan about their poor hungry bellies and I would surely pass out at the steering wheel without some caffeine.  At least I thought it was caffeine!  I didn’t realize my blood sugar was low because once I ate my Spicy Chicken sandwich I felt worlds better!  (I didn’t feel like passing out anymore!).  The Diet Coke probably helped a bit too. 

Anyway, we finally arrived at the hospital about 10 after 1.  Thank God for efficiency!  Although the first woman at the desk whose job is to greet and instruct us parents on what to do upon arrival was a bit preoccupied with whatever she was doing (that irritated me a bit), the rest of the staff was great.  We were in and out in less than an hour, without an appointment! 

The hardest part was leaving Madison in the x-ray room with two strangers wearing masks and funny outfits.  She didn’t know what to think except that this was not cool, and so she screamed bloody murder the entire time.  But they got the x-rays done quickly and had her back in my arms in a jiffy.  If I wasn’t pregnant, they would have had me stay in there with her, but since I was pregnant, I had to abandon the poor girl.  That’s never a great feeling!  (Why does this stuff always happen when Scott’s out of town?)

On the way out, Kelly, Joshua and I saw a woman pushing triplets in a stroller.  They thought that was an awesome site, and asked me if I wish I had three babies like that.   

Anyway, now I’m waiting for the results of the x-ray.  Madison is about to fall asleep on the couch, still breathing rapidly and rubbing her pacifier across her face as she sucks on an extra one she managed to dig out of the drawer.  It’s really funny how just when you think you can’t go anymore,  you find out you can.  Mostly because you aren’t given a choice but to go, go, go.  Some days there is just no time for too tired!

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My sister called me about two weeks ago to tell me the good news.  She got a positive on her pregnancy test.  That put her due date at August 15th, about 6 weeks after mine.  While part of me was a little jealous that I’d have to share our mom, I was kind of looking forward to us going through our pregnancies together.  This is my last, her pregnancy would have been her first baby. 

But last night I told Scott about a dream she had.  I’ve been thinking about her the last several days and was meaning to tell him about the dream for a while, but kept forgetting.  Last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I told him.  She had a dream that I came to her and told her that God told me that within the next 6 weeks, she was going to lose her baby, but she would be able to have a baby with her next pregnancy.

This morning she called me in tears.  She started bleeding.  I spent some time reassuring her that it’s normal, especially after intercourse – that it happened to me during my pregnancy with Madison.  I shared my experiences with her, and told her that if it would give her peace of mind, to go to the ER.  But I really thought that everything was fine.

I got a phone call from my mom a couple of hours later.  The doctor diagnosed her with an ectopic pregnancy.  They wheeled her into the operating room and removed one of her fallopian tubes almost immediately. 

She lost her baby. 

So now I’m sitting here and my heart is broken for her.  The doctors did say she could still have children, but I don’t think her husband quite gets that she will still mourn for her lost baby.  I just read an article on miscarriage and found it to be full of truth.  Women who miscarry are often not taken quite as seriously as say, a woman who’s lost a child who’s been born.  Since most miscarriages happen early in the first trimester, and she doesn’t look pregnant, people tend to forget that the mom-to-be is actually mourning a real loss.  There is no body to bury or visual evidence of a baby, so people just can not relate to the loss.  Even the dad-to-be can have a hard time understanding, because he isn’t going through the physical changes a pregnancy brings, and at that point in pregnancy, isn’t seeing any evidence of a baby (other than mood swings and perhaps some vomit), so the loss can be hard for him to comprehend (although this is not true for all men, many men grieve just as much as the mom.)

When my mom called me tonight, she told me that when they finished with the surgery and brought her back to her room, my sister’s husband said something like (and I can’t remember exactly how it went) “The doctor fixed your brain, honey!”  I guess he made a joke about how she came out of major brain surgery and her brain now works.  Oh how my heart broke when I heard that.  I wished that I was there, maybe to punch the idiot in the mouth…okay, I probably wouldn’t resort to an act of violence, but I could have coached him a little bit in how to respond to her loss.  When my mom told me about that, all I could say was, “She just lost her baby…” because all of it just took me back.

I’ve suffered a miscarriage before, and hearing what my brother-in-law said took me back to one of the few days that will forever be marked as one of the worst days of my life.  We all have a history book in the back of our heads, and many of us have pages that record our worst and best moments.  My miscarriage has been permanently inked on one of my life’s pages.  Tonight I went back and re-read that page.

I had people, well meaning people who cared greatly for me, say stupid, STUPID things.  Those words still play through my mind when I think about losing my baby.  I’ve finally gotten past the hurt those words inflicted on my already broken heart, but I still remember every word.  And now that I’m a bit older (and wiser?) I can see that those well-meaning people really just didn’t know what to say about such a loss, and they simply tried their best to say something that might comfort me.

That thought takes me back to a comment I read on another woman’s blog.  This poor woman was told she was miscarrying her baby, and she blogged about it that day.  Another woman commented that perhaps God removed the baby from her womb and put them in another woman’s womb to bless her.  Maybe her children were actually living on in another mommy’s tummy!  What the hell!?!  I was so infuriated when I read this that I began to comment.  But I found myself getting so angry, that my comment would have been longer than the grieving mother’s post.  I wanted to get in that woman’s face and ask her if she really thought this woman wanted to hear that God was so cold that He would take away this mom-to-be’s baby and give that baby to another woman?  “Oh, here you go.  Let me give you this baby.  Just kidding!  Let me just take that little sucker outta there and hmmmmmm…here we go.  This woman over here is much more deserving of your child!  Muahahahahahahaha!” 

Okay, so I know that’s not how she meant it.  Her intentions were to give hope and to comfort, but her words were all wrong.  I ended up deleting my comment before publishing it because I felt my words would have only brought more turmoil to this woman’s grieving heart.  She didn’t need me starting a debate on her blog. 

But reading that did get me thinking more about miscarriage and how people really do not understand the pain unless they’ve experienced it first-hand.  Let me share a little bit of what she is going through.  When a woman is going through a miscarriage, she is mourning over

  • the death of her child
  • the fact that she will not get to hold her child or meet her baby face to face
  • the knowledge that she will not get to watch her child grow up and will always wonder if her child was a boy or a girl, she will not get to see her child’s personality develop or see her child achieve his/her dreams
  • her empty womb – she may still feel all the symptoms of pregnancy, but her brain now knows that there is no baby in there.  There is a void there.
  • a sense of failure.  I haven’t met a woman yet who’s miscarried and hasn’t wondered if it was somehow her fault.  She failed, her body failed, she’s being punished for a past mistake, she shouldn’t have eaten this or drank that – all of these thoughts can easily play through the grieving mommy’s mind.

If I were there right now with my sister and the rest of the family, I would remind them of these things that are probably going on in her head.  I would tell them that there isn’t ANYTHING that they can say that will make her feel better.  There may be some things they can say that are okay to say, but she isn’t going to suddenly snap out of her grief and feel like throwing a party.  The best thing they can do is listen to her, ask her how she’s doing, ask her if she’s comfortable or if there is anything they can do to help her through this, especially since she just went through surgery, they could pray for her, and share God’s truth with her. 

But most importantly, remember to let her mourn, and understand that after the first few weeks, she may seem okay for a while, but the reality of her loss may hit her at the most unexpected moment.  I remember when I was pregnant with Joshua, I still cried over my miscarriage.  I remember driving on a highway with my mom to pick Scott up at the airport.  They were doing major construction and it was dark and kind of a scary drive.  This song popped up on my CD – it was a song that was played at church the Sunday after I found out I was miscarrying.  I bawled.  My mom just about begged me to pull over for fear that I was going to run the car into the barricade.  When our friends had their baby girl on what was supposed to be MY DUE DATE, I lost it, even though I was pregnant again.  The pain does not just go away in a day.

The last thing a person should do when they find out a woman lost her baby is:

  • Imply there is something wrong with her or her body – this is sending the message that it’s her fault
  • Try to crack jokes about what she just went through
  • Tell her that she can just have more babies (she probably already knows she can try again, but it doesn’t make her feel any better, especially because she just lost the baby she was hoping and dreaming and planning for). 
  • Try to assign blame to anyone or anything.  Sometimes things just happen and telling her it “could be this” or “could be that” or was “probably this” will only get her mind reeling at all of the possibilities and probabilities and preventative measures she could have taken to save her baby from this loss.
  • Imply that her loss isn’t that bad or compare her situation to someone else’s loss.  This will do NO good and will not comfort her in any way.
  • Refer to the baby as an embryo, fetus, or tissue (as the doctors kept calling mine).  To the mom, she had a baby inside her, don’t be afraid to say baby.  This will also help validate her need to mourn for somebody real.  (Thank you Deborah for this important point!)

The right things to say:

  • I’m so sorry for your loss
  • I’m praying for you and your family
  • Is there anything I can do for you right now?
  • If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.

If the grieving mom does open up to you, then be sure to say the following:

  • You know this is not your fault, right?  There is nothing you could have done to prevent this.
  • Be honest.  If you don’t know what to say, just simply say, “I wish I knew what to say but I just don’t know what I could possibly say to make you feel better.  I am here for you though.”
  • It’s okay to grieve.  That baby was real and a part of you.  This is a real loss and you can take the time to grieve over your loss.  Say this, but don’t push her.  She may need to grieve in her own way.

I know that it’s hard to know what to say when situations like this occur, and that’s why I felt so strongly that I should blog this.  If you’ve gone through a miscarriage before and feel that I’ve missed something or would like to add more to this post, please leave a comment.  If there’s something I need to add, I’ll gladly add it to the post (giving you the credit, of course!)

And please, no harsh or judgemental comments.  I shared some of the responses I know about simply as an example of what not to say, and to show that people who have not gone through this may not understand how their words might impact the mom.  I know my brother-in-law probably just wanted to make his wife laugh, to see her happy, and he probably hasn’t figured out how to handle this loss, or help his wife through this.  It’s a tough situation to be in for everyone involved.

Notes:

Purplepolkadotz suggested the following book for parents who’ve gone through a miscarriage: “I’ll Hold You In Heaven” by Jack Hayford.  Check it out at Amazon.com.

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Breathe.  In, then out.  Get control of yourself!

That’s what I started telling myself when I began experiencing these symptoms last night in bed:

  • Rapid heart beat, pounding heart or palpitations  
  • Smothering or shortness of breath sensations
  • Nausea, bloating, indigestion or abdominal discomfort
  • Dizziness or unsteadiness
  • Feeling light-headed
  • Derealisation (feeling unreal or dreamy)
  • Fear of losing control or going crazy
  • Paresthesias (numbness or tingling sensations) in face, extremities or body 
  • These are just some of the classic “symptoms” of an Anxiety Attack. 

    I started experiencing some of these symptoms yesterday and complained to my husband about the heart palpitations.  He nodded his head and said, “Yup.  You need to manage your stress.” 

    So last night when things got worse, when I couldn’t breathe and I felt like I was going to cry and I just felt smothered, I got out of bed and onto my computer – at 12:30 in the morning.  I googled Anxiety attack and came across this website.  I felt so stupid.  Why didn’t it occur to me sooner that it was anxiety? 

    I thought my body was just failing me from the amount of stress I’ve been under, but I learned a very good thing.  Anxiety attacks can’t kill me.  I was able to sleep after that.  (See, I told you Joshua has my imagination!  He thinks he can get paralyzed for tripping over his pants, I think I can die from an anxiety attack!)

    A certain teenager who shall remain nameless has stressed me out enough that I am now going through this.  I’ve never gone through this before, I’ve always had control of myself, so to speak.  On Monday, I began having very bad thoughts toward this teenager.  Thoughts like, “I hate him!  I HATE him!” and “He’s ruining my life!”  Then I had to laugh.  Isn’t that what the teenagers say?  I wonder now how many parents and teenagers are thinking the same thing about each other? 

    Of course the entire time I was thinking that, that little voice in my head kept telling me, “No.  You love him.  You LOVE him.  You know you love him.”  And I conceded.  I do love him, but I still want to wrap my hands around his throat and express my love to him, because if I didn’t love him so damn much, I wouldn’t care, and I wouldn’t be having these crazy thoughts in my head, and I wouldn’t be feeling like this.

    At the same time, God is teaching me some great things in all of this.  He’s been showing me different areas in my life where I need to be walking “in Him” and/or in the spirit.  Every time something happens and I want to say, “I can’t do this,” God speaks to me and shows me that I can.  A couple weeks ago, when I was dealing with the gun situation, God spoke to me and said, “Walk in me, parent your children while walking in My Spirit.  You can do this through Me!” 

    And last night, He told me the same thing, “Remain in Me.  You do not have to let this take over, You can beat this.  You are an overcomer!”  Sometimes I forget just how powerful my God is.  Sometimes it’s easy to see how strong everyone and everything, and all the circumstances around us are.  But why is it that God’s power is so easily forgotten?  I’ve got to get better at this.

    I know it’s a process and I’m just going to have to deal with the anxiety as it comes and goes, like this morning when I took my temperature and it spiked.  What was I thinking?  WHAT WAS I THINKING?  Breathe.  In and out.  I am an overcomer.  Thank you, Jesus!

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    Hurts So Good

    My back is still bothering me.  I have the biggest knots all over.  Fortunately for me, my mom bought Scott and me this awesome Homedics massaging cushion, and I’ve been using it, and using, it, and using it.  It hurts so bad that it nearly takes my breath away as it rolls over the knots in my back, but I can’t seem to bring myself to get off this cushion.  I’ve been sitting here for an hour and a half now and I know I need to go to bed, but I just can’t get up…these rollers are offering me temporary relief, and I know as soon as I get up, my back is going to be crying for help!  If only I could bring this cushion to bed with me!

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    Scott made it in late this morning.  I guess after seeing how miserable I was, he told me he was taking me to the doctor.  So after Joshua got home from kindergarten, we loaded the kids up and he drove me to the Urgent Care Clinic. 

    The doctor came in and asked me a series of questions.  He checked my ears and found quite a bit of fluid in my middle ear.  He suspects that is what is causing the dizzy spells. 

    I shared some other symptoms I’ve been experiencing along with my back pain, and he asked me, “Is there any possibility AT ALL that you could be pregnant?”  Of course, he was about to prescribe me muscle relaxers, anti-inflamatories, and pain pills, so he had to ask. 

    And I had to say, “Well, I guess there could be a small possibility.”  I’m not on hormonal birth control, so I know my chances of getting pregnant are higher. 

    So as a precaution, he told me he wanted me to take a pregnancy test.  In the bathroom I went, and peed in a cup.  “I’m sure I’m not,” I told the nurse,

    “Well, we just want to be sure.”  She responded.

    I went back to “my room” and I waited…and waited…and waited for the results.  I prayed that if I was pregnant, that it would show on the test because if I was, by some small chance, pregnant, I would just barely be pregnant…like, days pregnant.  In other words, I don’t know how it would show up on a urine test, it would have happened just days before!  But really, there’s no way.  I calculated the date of my last period with the times/dates Scott and I…well…you know.

    yeah…there’s no way.

    So after deciding I could trust God with the results, the doctor finally came in and said, “Well…when trying to read the results of your test, there was a faint line.  But it’s so faint, we aren’t sure if you are pregnant or not.  We want to take a blood test.” 

    My jaw dropped.  I’d just spent that entire time waiting and convincing myself there’s no way.  Now he’s telling me that I might be pregnant.  “That’s not the answer I expected from you.”  I told him.  He assured me that the line was just as faint as could be and they just wanted to be sure before they prescribed any medications for me.  Good doctor.  He actually cares.

    He sent the nurse in to draw blood.  As I was trying to convince her that I just couldn’t see how I could be, she told me that she is currently pregnant with her third baby.  She was on the pill.  She too thought there was “no way.”  She saw the line on my test, but said it could very well be a false positive.

    So now I’m told I have to wait.  I may not find out the results of my blood test until Sunday. 

    I’m not good at waiting.  As I walked into the waiting room, Scott asked me what was going on.  “Let’s just get out of here.” I whispered.  Once we got outside, I told him the news. 

    It was just kind of shocking.  As I talked about how it couldn’t be possible, Joshua asked, “Mom?  Are you pregnant!?!?”

    Scott and I didn’t know what to say.  We were silent.  Finally we both said, “NO.”

    He drove to the nearest grocery store, and at my request, picked up a pregnancy test and baby formula.

    He also picked up:

    A snack pack of Kit Kats

    A snack pack of Mounds

    A snack pack of Reeses PB Cups

    Another snack pack of Reeses PB Cups

    Cheesecake

    and 2 take and bake pizza’s

    I guess I don’t have to ask how he’s taking the news.

    And I have to figure out how this happened.  But I’m still thinking there is NO WAY.  I’m really expecting them to tell me the test came out negative when I call in tomorrow…or if I have to wait that long, on Sunday.

    Really. 

    There is No Way I am pregnant.

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    My super-awesome husband did take Dwight in to see one a few months ago. When he came home and told me how the initial visit went, I didn’t want to send him back. I don’t trust the man. Here’s why:

    So, here’s my husband, sitting there with our son, telling the psychiatrist about the things Dwight has been diagnosed with. The guy immediately disagrees! He says, “Oh no…I don’t think he has that. He’s been diagnosed incorrectly.” This after what, 5, 10 minutes of conversation with the dad? Seriously. Dwight has gone through several tests. He’s had 2 EEG’s, he’s seen specialists, several of them who have confirmed that Dwight needs help.

    So this psychiatrist disagrees with Dwights diagnosis and then proceeds to tell Scott, over and over again, why he is a qualified psychiatrist. I didn’t realize there was a need to convince us of his qualifications…unless there’s concern that maybe he really isn’t? Are there rumors floating around that he’s a quack dr.? My husband even admitted it was a bit strange that the man was trying to convince him of his qualifications. Now the dude has me concerned.

    So, the quack dr. asks to talk to our son alone. He’s in there with him for about 10 minutes and when he’s done, he calls Scott back in the room (alone) and says, ‘Uh, yeah, your son is a little odd.” He proceeds to tell my husband over and over again that he is odd. Scott told me he used the word odd several times.

    Thanks, Dr. Quack. Real professional.

    So we haven’t taken Dwight back. Why would we? We already know he’s odd! Thanks for the diagnosis, Dr. Quack! Not that Dr. Quack is allowed to say so. He’s a professional…he should talk professionally. Besides, Dwight is not his son. He does not get to talk about other people that way.

    So I haven’t taken him back because to be honest, that initial visit kind of freaked me out. I’m not handing my son over to someone who has the power to write up prescription medications in order to cure “oddities.” No thank you.

    So that is one reason why I’m waiting until we move to Ohio to find a good psychiatrist for my son. Why go through this now, and then have to do it again two months later???

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    There’s nothing wrong with talking out loud, even if there’s no one else listening! I talk to myself all the time…usually in my head, but sometimes out loud. (Especially when I can’t hear myself think!) And I make up songs…usually for my kids though. That’s always fun.

    But it was the yelling and carrying on yesterday afternoon that had me concerned about my teenage son.

    I heard, “Oh, common!” and “Dang it!” and “Ooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh!” and “Aaaaaaaaaaaaurghhhhhhh!” over and over again.

    Turns out that because he’d spent the last 2 weeks working on his Science Fair project, he neglected to study for a Spanish test due the next day and at that very moment, he was studying flash cards. Turns out he knew one word and was getting frustrated when he could not interpet the Spanish words on the cards. A good lesson in procrastination? Not hardly.

    Not hardly because he spent 3 long days just pasting his pictures and reports onto the display board for his Science project. How does a person spend three days doing this? I don’t know how a normal person does this, but my son managed to pull it off. He managed to pull it off because honestly, there is just something in his brain that isn’t clicking. I think it has something to do with the Autism Spectrum Disorder. I’ve read up on the things he’s dealing with the other day and it turns out that he tends to obsess about little details that really don’t matter.

    And that is just what he was doing with this Science project. THREE DAYS, people! It took him three days to print, cut, and paste papers to a board. He spent the entire day Sunday trying to decide where everything should go. I spent two hours arguing with him about the examples his teacher printed out on paper.

    “No, Dwight. It does not have to look EXACTLY like this one. This one is not your experiment. This is just an example. Just like the other 5 examples printed on the other five pages.” Geeze!

    I even sat down and showed him how to arrange his board. I left to run some errands shortly after and came back 3 hours later to find the board completely rearranged and still not pasted.

    By Wednesday night (the night before the project was due), he still hadn’t printed out everything required for the board. (I wasn’t aware of this).

    I told him at least 3 times to print everything out and arrange accordingly before gluing stuff to his board. Guess what? There’s dried glue all over that board, and scraps of paper that he’s pulled off after deciding it didn’t look right.

    I give up. Just turn the damn thing in, Son! Please just turn it in AS IS so we can all move on with our lives and not have to listen to “OOOOHHHHHHH!” and “Commmmmooooooon!” (Yes, he was doing that while working on his Science project too!

    I’m so not ready for this. I’m noticing his symptoms are getting a bit worse lately. Maybe it’s stress, maybe it’s hormones, or maybe I’m just more in tune to his situation.

    I knew when we got custody of that cute little dark haired, sparkly-eyed four year old that he had some issues, that he’d need some help overcoming some obstacles (like learning how to talk at four years old – thank God for speech therapy!) but there are days I just don’t feel like I’m equipped to handle this. Sometimes I think that God chose the wrong mom for this kid. He’s so smart, so special. I know that. And he deserves a mom who has a lot more patience and understanding. He deserves a mom who isn’t afraid to tackle this situation head on.

    I’ll get him what he needs. I’ll find a good psychiatrist as soon as we can get settled in Ohio…but right now, I just can’t do it. There is just too much on me right now. Please hold on, kid, for a couple more months and we’ll figure this thing out together, I promise.

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    I scheduled appointments for Madison to see the pediatric plastic surgeon who specializes in birth marks. She goes in the day after Christmas. Of all the times to have an appointment! But luckily for me, Scott is off for the week and we aren’t traveling anywhere, so he can go with me to her appointment. I don’t know if I really want to hear what he has to say. The thought of her having to have any surgery just seems like too much right now.

    Dwight has an appointment with a psychiatrist. He goes in a couple of weeks. I still have to make him an appointment with someone who specializes in diagnosing autism. His neurologist wants him tested for that. But I’m trying to take things one step at a time. I can only handle so much at once!

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