Particularly Nasty.

I had my followup appointment with my surgeon on Wednesday. The doctor seemed proud to tell me that I had one of the worst gallbladders he had ever seen, it was particularly nasty. He was surprised that I had not ended up in the hospital sooner.

This would explain why I am still having some pain under my right breast. All of the stuff that surrounds the gallbladder was irritated because the gallbladder was so nasty.

I joked with Jenn that I really like the phrase particularly nasty, so much that I may get it tattooed on the inside of my wrist. (Don’t panic mom and dad, I’m kidding. Mostly)

Lyz had her followup appointment on Thursday and the doctor said everything looked good. This is not to say that all of our cancer woes are gone. While Lyz kicked cancer’s ass, her father-in-law could use all the cancer ass-kicking vibes you can send.

Delmar is such a kind and wonderful man. When I first met him he frightened me. As the years have progressed I have grown to love him more and more. Spending tons of time with him at the Christmas tree farm this year really cemented him into my heart.

I don’t like to be touched, especially by boys. I am big on personal space. I am all about a good hug from one of my closest friends and family. But if I don’t know you inside and out, or you are a boy, I’m standoffish. One day in the tree farm office Chris was giving me a hard time about it. I happened to be sitting next to Delmar who reached over and put his hand on my thigh with the biggest goofiest smile I have ever seen. At first I was too shocked to even complain, then his laughter became contagious. I hopped off my chair with the heebie jeebies and laughed with him. In the days following he would walk up close to me and reach out an arm, just to see me react.

So, now that we’ve got Lyz better, I’ve started focusing all the strength I can muster and passing it on to Delmar, if you could spare a thought/prayer/wish or two, we’d appropriate it.

p.s.-I’m wearing real pants today. No more elastic waistbands for me!! (The incisions are still a little sore, but I just can’t stand the elastic anymore!!)


Part Four (or, the end)

I was brought a dinner of yuck. Jell-o, chicken broth (that I don’t believe had ever met a real chicken), raspberry sherbert and apple juice. I did drink the apple juice, after they brought me a glass of ice to go with it. Jenn went down to get her dinner and came back up with the most beautiful pile of mashed potatoes. I ate them. They were yummy.

Joni, Lyz, Chris, Avery and Delaney came in to visit me. The girls enjoyed my view:

Avery colored and watched movies with me:

Delaney thought the room was rather confining, so Jenn and Chris would take her on walks in the hallway (even when the fire alarm went off and they were told to stay in the room. Hmmm…I don’t remember ever finding out if the file alarm was a test or the real thing?) The one time she left I got up to pee (I peed a lot. Like a lot a lot. I would wake Jenn up every twenty minutes at one point. And each pee would last five minutes. Jenn alternated between laughing and crying at this). So when Delaney got back in the room I wasn’t in my bed. I heard her make a HHHH noise, and when I opened the door she smiled at me, said “hhhhh” and pointed me towards my bed. Sweet little thing!

Thursday night was long again. It would take me forever to find a comfortable position so that I could fall asleep, and as soon as I would fall asleep someone would come in to take my temp, or my blood pressure, or check on my incisions (one of them was not sealed up right and kept bleeding) or steal my blood. Sigh. Get some rest!! They’d exclaim. “Leave me the ____alone” I would answer, inside my head of course.

The talk of going home was interesting. And if I never hear the phrases “Pass Gas” or “Bowel Movement” again, I will be thrilled. They started by saying I would be able to go home on Sunday. Then Saturday became the goal. After I wolfed down my breakfast and was caught walking around my room because I was tired of laying in the bed, I was awarded freedom on Friday afternoon. I was passing gas, but not moving my bowels, but they decided gas passing was good enough.

Home was rather boring. I would just lay around in a state between asleep and awake. A friend had brought over some groceries so I ate a lot of yummy turkey sandwiches. On Saturday another friend brought over dinner and I ate that. I was an eating, drinking, peeing machine, but sleep was still elusive. I am a tummy sleeper. Not being able to sleep on my tummy sucks.

Sunday we went over to Joni’s for family dinner. She made really yummy stuffed pork chops.

Monday afternoon Jenn’s phone rings and it is Dr. Man’s office. Just checking in to see how I was. Has she moved her bowels yet? Um, no… OH MY GOODNESS!!!!! Jenn was given orders to find a way to make me move my bowels before 4pm or take me back to the hospital. This became the whole focus of Monday. It hurts to try and move your bowels when you have 5 incisions on your belly. Jenn threatened me with milk of magnesia, suppositories and enema’s. I refused them all. At 3:55pm, I met my goal.

All in all recovery hasn’t been too bad. I’m still a little sore two weeks later. The incision in my belly button is the worst. I’m sleepy a little better, it just takes forever to get comfortable, and since I tend to roll around a lot, I get woken up when I’m in a position that isn’t right for my belly.

I don’t remember ever being actually scared. I honestly still can’t believe it all happened. Even after the surgery I was expecting Dr. Man to say that it wasn’t actually my gallbladder, and I should just go home and fart. I laughed a lot. The weirdest thing of this whole experience to me was being the one in the hospital bed. I’m the one who goes to visit. I’m the one who makes sure everyone else is comfortable when they have been injured, surgered or under observation. I didn’t really like being the one everyone else was worried about.

I do have one more thing to add. I want to thank my son. I’m 100% positive it was Blue who whispered “gallbladder” in my ear. If he hadn’t done that, I most likely would never have agreed to go to the hospital. A lot of people asked me about my angel tattoo on my back. When I would explain that it was for my son who was born still, they would all say “I’m sorry”. I’d reply, “Don’t be. I have an extra angel watching over me.” Thank you for watching over me Blue!! I love you!

Part Three

Once it was decided that I was going to be spending the night and having surgery in the morning, things start to get a little fuzzy.  I blame this on the fact that every time I whined, someone would shoot me up with more painkillers, and the fact that it was like 3am.

Interesting things that happened prior to being wheeled into the pre-op room:

If anyone asked me if there was anything they could do to make me more comfortable, I would beg for ice water.  Ice water became the entire theme of getting my gallbladder removed.  Please give me ice water.  No, you are having surgery, you cannot have anything.  Finally some nurse took pity on me and bought me an ice sponge popsicle thing.  I felt like a rabid dog being handed a bone with a little bit of meat on the end.  She stuck it in my mouth and I sucked it dry.  Drugs=cotton mouth.  Not pleasant.

Once I was taken to my ever so beautiful fully private room another theme became apparent.  If Jenn left my side, something major would happen.  Jenn pees…two nurses come in to take my history.  Jenn goes home to grab some things…another blood gatherer steals my blood without caring that they aren’t going to be able to so it.  (At one point Jenn actually yelled at a blood gatherer.  He was DIGGING into the top of my hand and I was very close to screaming.  Jenn finally said “Step away from her and find someone else” He said “No, I almost got it”  Jenn yelled.  He wet himself.  I got a new blood gatherer)  Jenn takes a shower…Doctor and three nurses come in to tell me all about surgery that will take place in two hours.  Jenn runs to get breakfast…They come to take me to surgery.

Ice water.  I’m still begging for ice water.  I’ve whined to anyone that will listen, including texting Lyz.  Lyz is on her way.  She is smuggling in ice water.  She will be right there…from what I understand she arrived just in time to see me wheeled away.  She did send me this though:

She loves me!

I then began to joke that I wasn’t really having my gallbladder removed. This was all a ploy to stick Jenn and Lyz alone in a waiting room together so they could work out their spat. hahaha. No one cared, they were still sending me under the knife.

They took me back to pre-op and said it would be about 45 minutes before they took me back to surgery. I’m pretty sure it was about 4 hours later. But the time was spent well. Jenn tried to make me some glove balloons, but our hospital is no longer using latex gloves because of all the allergies, so glove balloons weren’t as fun as they used to be.

I spent my time texting people and worrying that my gallbladder held my funny or my sarcasm. What if they take out my gallbladder and no one ever laughs or rolls their eyes at me again??

Finally it was time for surgery:

I woke up in the recovery room so perfectly peaceful and comfortable and happy. No screaming at doctors about them stealing my baby, just bliss.

I heard one of the nurses telling me I had to breathe. I felt the oxygen thing in my nose. But I was sooooooooo comfortable. In my head I answered the nurse “No. I don’t need to breathe. I’m comfortable. If I breathe I may become uncomfortable. The nose thing will give me any air I need. Allllll is well. No breathing here.”

Heidi. We need you to breathe please. (hmm, they are starting to sound a little stern about this. Don’t they realized that I am happy and comfortable. Why can’t they just leave me alone??)

Heidi…can you breathe for…um doctor, her oxygen is…BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP

Next thing I know my happy comfortableness is ruined as they rip the nose thing off, give me a full on mask and start rubbing my chest really really hard. Meanies. But, it made me listen. I began to think about breathing and reminding myself to do it every so often.

Once I was a little more awake they asked me how I was feeling. “Owwie and thirsty”. They brought me another water sponge popsicle thing. I again looked like a rabid dog. Yet I didn’t care. More sponge people. The more the better. Sadly, I was denied.

I guess at this point Jenn and Lyz were getting a little worried. Dr. Man told them I would be out of recovery in an hour. Thanks to my refusal to breathe it was more like two and a half hours. They finally brought me back to the room and Jenn and Lyz were laughing at me. Can you imagine? They swear it was because Lyz almost pulled out my iv (something she did to Jenn years ago) but I’m pretty sure they were lying. The nurse showed them my incisions (and uber swollen belly) and pictures of the gallbladder and my insides. You see the second question Jenn asked Dr. Man when he came out to tell them I was alive was “Do we get to keep it?” No, but I’ve got pictures!! In color!!!

Lyz left Jenn and I to nap. Our tv came with a bunch of free movies that I have been wanting to see. I chose Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince which I have seen 100 times (which is playing on my laptop as I type this). It was comfortable. I couldn’t sleep. I think in the 40 or so hours I was in the hospital I only slept a total of 4 hours. I’m still not sleeping all that well, but that’s for the next part of the story.

My mom asked Jenn for a picture so that she could see I was okay. Jenn takes a picture:

Then the nurse came in to see if I needed anything. Yes. Ice Water. Do you know what her answer was??? Okay, I’ll be right back. I almost cried. I did take a picture and post it to facebook. I titled it “Isn’t my (legal) ice water beautiful?”

To the left you see the styrafoam cup with the thing sticking out of it?? That would be my sponge water popsicle. ❤ Farewell. I've got the real thing now!!

And here I am reaching for it:

And here is the new picture we sent to my mom:

Much happier thanks to the addition of ice water. Ahhh ice water.

And do you see my boob??? It is bigger than my head. Now picture me doing the boob tango with it!!

To be continued…tomorrow…recovery 🙂

Part Two

So we get to the hospital and Jenn whips the truck into a parking space, hops out, and jogs towards the entrance of the er.  Hi!!  Fat girl in a lot of pain here, no jogging please!!  (And yes, she offered me a wheelchair, but at this point I’m still positive the docs are going to take one look at me and tell me to go home and fart.  I am not about to sit in a wheelchair, thank you very much.)

We get inside and the nurse at the desk asks what the problem is.  Jenn explains (since I can’t even breathe right it hurts so bad) that I am having pain in my chest and it hurts to breathe.  Nurse picks up the phone and calls for an EKG team.  I have never been hooked up to 87 silver sticky things so quickly in my life.  Two women, 87 silver sticky things and some wires.  I blinked and the EKG was over.  They sent Jenn, me and our restaurant style pager out to the lobby to wait.

I waddled over to the waiting chairs and had just lowered myself into my chair when the pager thingy went off.  Cute little nurse comes over and says “Follow Me!” in as sweet of a voice she could…and then begins to fly through the corridors.  Hi!!  Fat girl in a lot of pain here!!  Slow down please 🙂

They get me in my room and start talking about an iv.  I warn her that I have crappy veins.  She rolls her eyes.  Yes, I understand that everyone says they have crappy veins.  But I actually do.  She looks at my arms and declares my veins beautiful!  I warn her they bounce.  She rolls her eyes.  I point out the one and only place that anyone ever has any luck with.  She rolls her eyes.

15 pokes later, two nurses and an iv team later, the iv is placed in the spot I pointed out.

Every person I met asked what I was feeling and then asked “Do you still have your gallbladder?”  Yes, but I have a feeling that I’m about to lose it???

Then they shot me full of Dilaudid.  Should I ever win the lottery and become a drug addict, I’m pretty sure Dilaudid will be my drug of choice.  It is an opioid.  I could do that.  It made me happy.  Sadly doesn’t last very long, but it felt darn good while it did.

Next step: ultrasound.  Here I am, high on Dilaudid and being wheeled into an ultrasound room.  I freaked out.  I started shaking and crying and hyperventilating.  You see, the last time I was wheeled into an ultrasound room I was told that my son was dead.  And this was all I could think of.  The poor nurse calmed me down and we began the boob tango.

Yes, I just went from crying about my dead son to a boob tango.  I was high people!!  HIGH!  And yes, I just used the phrase boob tango.  The spot they wanted to ultrasound is located directly under my right boob.  I’ve talked about my rather large boobs before.  (I will be sharing hospital pictures that will further demonstrate the large size of my chest).  I basically held my boob in various positions while the ultrasound tech took pictures.  Can you move it this way?  Sure.  Can you move it over here?  Sure.  Can you roll over and not let go of it.  Do you know how wide I am compared to this gurney lady?  Not to mention the fact that although you are only looking at a 6 inch square part of my body I am lubed up from head to toe with your ultrasound goo?

She took me back to my room and to my Jenn who was looking slightly disgruntled.  It seems that even though I have a file of paperwork stating that Jenn has legal authority over me in every way shape and form that you can legally have authority over someone who you are not legally married to, one of the nurses was giving Jenn a hard time.  She wouldn’t let Jenn ask any questions, nor would she let Jenn answer any questions.  From this point forward when any person would walk into my room I would introduce her as Jenn, my wife, with a glare.  I dare anyone to argue that point with me while I am in severe pain AND high on opiates.  This particular nurse was the only nurse the entire stay that even flinched.  Everyone else acted like they had seen it a million times before and went on with their normal routine.

Finally Mr. Doctor man comes in to see me.  He surprises us all with the news that “Your gallbladder really needs to come out.”  Wow.  After being asked 92 times if I still had it, I had pretty much assumed that it and I would be parting ways shortly.

He gave two options.  Have it out in the morning, or come back in a week.  Neither of these options were really all that great for me.  Jenn starts work in a week.  If I wait a week to have the surgery she won’t be able to stay home with me.  If I have it in the morning, I am going to miss the busiest week of work AND my boss is out of town.  I began to cry.  Mr. Doctor Man gave us a few minutes to talk about it.

He peeked his head back around the door with a pretty scary look on his face and said “Um, nevermind.  I just saw the ultrasound.  You will be having surgery in the morning.”  And that was that.

It seems that the opening to your gallbladder is this big:

|   |

and I had a stone in the opening that was this big:

|                 |

My whole gallbladder was swollen and yucky looking.  It and I needed to say our goodbyes.

(too be continued)

Did ya miss me? Part 1.

Well, keep that up because part of me is still missing.

**Cliff Notes: I had my gallbladder removed via emergency surgery.  I’m much better, still healing, concerned that my gallbladder may have held my desire to write as I seem to have lost it.  This will be the first part of the semi-long story.  You do not need to read it all, but I need to journal it all.**

About a month ago I was oh so rudely awoken around 3am with a horrible pain in my back. I’m a total tummy sleeper, so I figured I had just been laying wrong and flipped myself over to stretch it out so I could go back to sleep. Wrong.

The horrible pain had moved to my chest! How dare it move around. Here I was trying to make it all better and it decided it wasn’t having any of that. After flopping and flipping and moaning and bitching for about an hour, I woke Jenn up so there would be someone to listen to me whine (if a girl whines in a bedroom and there is no one awake to hear it…). After another hour or so Jenn had enough and headed to the grocery store to purchase various gas relieving aids, since we both assumed this was the absolute worst case of heartburn ever. With a tummy filled with GasX, Tums, and my precious oxy, I passed out from exhaustion curled up in a ball and went to sleep, forgetting all about the horrible pain, but blaming the delicious Coke I had drank with dinner.

Fast forward to Wednesday, July 28.  Chris had a softball double header.  It was very hot.  Jenn and Lyz were having a spat.  It was very hot.  All I wanted in the world was a slushie, since it was very hot.  After Chris’s game we stopped by the local gas station and picked me up a Coke slushie.  You know where this is going right?

By 9:30 I asked Jenn for some Tums.  10:15 I asked for GasX.  10:45pm Jenn asked me if this pain was like last time.  No, not quite, I’m okay.  By 11:15 I was walking around in circles begging to die.  I had done hiney stands (standing on my hands and feet with my hiney in the air) praying that the gas would just float up to the top and out.  I had done my  full share of whining and it was slowly progressing towards tears.  I laid my head on Jenn’s lap and said “Um, yeah, this is just like last time…but worse.”

I decided to head to the bathroom because maybe sitting on the toilet would give the gas a clue which way to head.  As I crossed the threshold into the toilet someone whispered in my hear “gallbladder”.  Nah.  Can’t be.  That wouldn’t happen to me.  I sat on the toilet for 5 minutes shaking in pain and finally crawled back onto the bed where I begged Jenn to Google Gallbladder attacks.

BINGO.  I had every.single.symptom they offered up.  Pain radiating from front to back, gassy feeling, constipation, etc.  Jenn says alright, lets head to the emergency room.  No.  I don’t want to.  Jenn glared.  Five minutes passed and I had another horrible pain fit and I agreed to at least call the on call doctor.  Jenn made me promise that if he said go to the er I would go to the er.  Fine.  Whatever.  Give me drugs please?

On call doctor hears my symptoms and apparently had already taken all of my drugs.  He doesn’t hear gallbladder.  No, he decides I have a collapsed lung, go to the er.

Jenn doesn’t care that his diagnosis is so obviously wrong, he said go to er, I promised if he said go to er I would go to er, so…off we go to the er.

Why we aren’t allowed to have good days.

I will start by saying that everyone is alright. Those of you who follow me on Facebook know part of this story already. And I will warn you this is long.

Last week was full of good days for Jenn, Lyz and I. Jenn’s been feeling blue and was quite proud of herself when she got so much accomplished on Thursday and Friday. I just had good days where I didn’t have any freakouts, meltdowns or panic attacks. Lyz had an awesome day on Friday! She ran an entire mile on the treadmill without stopping!! She called me in happy tears to tell me all about it! I am so proud! She got out of the house for an entire afternoon into the evening to work at a consignment sale in our area. She called me on the way home to tell me how much fun she had and how great it felt to do something like that. I hung up with her at 7:58pm. She was meeting Chris to hand off the girls so he could go to work.

At 8:35pm my phone rang again, it was Lyz. I figured she was calling me to tell me that they girls were all excited about the new clothes she had picked up for them. I was soooo wrong. In the calmest voice I’ve ever heard from Lyz’s mouth, she said “I need you to meet me at Lancaster General Hospital.” My first reaction was that Chris had been shot at work.

“What’s wrong?” I screamed.
“Delaney” her voice broke “She wasn’t, she is fine right now, she wasn’t breathing, was not reacting, wasn’t moving. Blue, no purple lips, gray skin. She is breathing now. We are in the ambulance.”
“We’re leaving right now, I love you, kiss Delaney”

I nearly passed out. Jenn and I jumped up and got dressed. We ran out the front door, me still partially undressed. Our neighbors looked at us out their window and I got at text right away asking what was wrong. Then Joni called. I screamed “We’re on our way” into the phone before I even had it up to my ear. Then I calmed down. I am usually quite calm in cases of emergency, as long as the person I need to worry about is in my sight. Once I heard Joni’s voice, and Avery’s in the background, I calmed right down. I asked Joni what happened. Joni had given them a bath and was getting them out of the tub when Lyz got home. They got Delaney dried off and Joni went back to her room. She heard a strange noise out of Delaney, like a painful scream and went to go see what happened. Lyz was holding Delaney, her lips were turning purple (Lyz later told me that she thought D had gotten into a purple marker they were so dark) and then D’s eyes rolled back into her head and she went rigid, then limp.

Lyz normally keeps her phones (personal and work) in her bra. Since she was getting the girls out of the tub she had removed them. She handed D to Joni and went running around the upstairs looking for a phone. She told me she remembers standing in the corner of her bedroom and thinking “What do I do?” She found one and called 911. An ambulance was sent, but they wouldn’t let Lyz off the phone. Lyz had decided it was time to start cpr (a minute had passed at this point, I know it seems like longer, but Joni and Lyz were watching the clock also). Just as she laid Delaney down, Delaney started to whimper. Lyz told the 911 operator that if she couldn’t get off the phone then they would have to inform Chris.

County pages Chris and he calls back.
“Do you live in W___ H____?”
“Do you have a baby?”
“Is your wife’s name Elyzabeth?”
“Tell me what is going on…”
“The baby is unresponsive…” Click. Chris hung up, turned his lights and sirens on and flew home.

He beat the ambulance. He was standing on the front porch and watched as the ambulance went the wrong way and then took an extra 5-6 minutes finding their house. Had Delaney not started breathing again…

They got Lyz and Delaney into the ambulance, and Lyz called us. It only took us 14 minutes from phone call, to standing in the emergency room lobby waiting. We turned on our flashers and drove like maniacs. We beat the ambulance. By a lot. Jenn gave our info to the information desk and proceeded to ask every 30 seconds if they were there yet. We decided we would go wait at the ambulance bay. We called Chris to see where they were and saw the ambulance pull in, so we just ran back inside. Longest 5 minutes right there. The clerk kept typing in D’s name…not checked in yet. Lather, rinse, repeat. Finally she was in and they escorted us back.

Lyz was sitting on the gurney with Delaney on her lap. Now, Delaney is a very VERY active little girl. The Delaney we saw right then was not our Delaney. She looked sad, just laid there all still on her Mommy and put her hand up when she saw us. Doctors were in and out, asking Lyz to repeat the story over and over. Then one ordered bloodwork.

Now who in the hell sends in a student to take a 15 month old’s blood? Yes, I understand they have to learn somehow but seriously??? It was torture. Absolute torture. All four of us were crying when it was over.

Once that was done we got her a bottle, put cartoons on and let her go to sleep. They came in and took Lyz and Delaney for a CT scan, so Jenn and I ran out to call and update Chris and Joni. When we got back in there were two doctors and a student talking to Lyz, who was telling the story for the millionth time.

Then the one doctor said “Oh!! You know what this is?” We all leaned in, holding our breath and waiting to hear what he would say. “She was holding her breath to get something she wanted. A temper tantrum.” Um, no. She didn’t want anything. She was standing next to Lyz, who had just set D’s feet on the floor. She didn’t cry, just that one painful scream. When Lyz explained that she really didn’t think that was the case HE ROLLED HIS EYES AT HER. He then basically said we were all over reacting and that they would keep her overnight, but she was just having a temper tantrum, and left the room.

Other doctor apologized to Lyz and said that he doesn’t have the best bedside manner. Really? I didn’t notice that. She said that it could have been a minor seizure, it could have really been anything. But all of the tests they ran on Delaney showed nothing. If it happens again, they might have a better idea.

We were escorted up to a room on the pediatrics floor. Madagascar 2 was put on the tv and…we found Delaney. She was up, moving around the crib, climbing all over Lyz (who had climbed into the crib with her of course), playing with the remote, squirting us with milk from her bottle, stealing Jenn’s hat, VERY CLEARLY SAYING JENN JENN!!!, and being her rather normal self.

Jenn and I stayed a little while longer, and when it looked like Delaney was ready to go to sleep, we left. It took us forever to fall asleep. Lyz said Delaney didn’t fall asleep for awhile either.

Delaney was released in the morning, and told to follow up with her pediatrician on Monday. (She is actually at the peds right now while I am typing this, but you won’t read it until Tuesday lol).

Jenn had loaded up the car with stuff to take to DIR, and called and said “I want to go visit Lyz and the girls”. Go for it. She stopped and bought them both some SpongeBob goodies and went and spent the day with them.

Avery was such a super star through all of this. While Lyz called 911 she got herself dried and dressed. When Lyz and D were at the hospital she played with Joni. We got to talk to her on the phone while we were in the ER and you could just tell she was scared, but being so brave! We are all so proud of her for being such a wonderful big sister.

Lyz and I have been researching different monitors to keep an eye on Delaney’s breathing at night. This will make Lyz feel just a hair better. If anyone has any ideas, please let us know. At this point Lyz is going to get an Angelcare Baby Monitor. If it doesn’t work right (meaning Delaney rolls away from it falsely setting off the alarm, sending Lyz into unnecessary panic), we will order a type of monitor that clips onto Delaney’s diaper. Either way, we need to help Lyz feel more comfortable.

Chris, Jenn and Avery came to pick me up at work Saturday afternoon and we went over and had dinner with CLAD+J. Delaney was her normal self, getting into trouble, climbing everywhere, and running over to give you a hug just because. She may be calling me Ha, not sure. But twice I would walk out of the bathroom and she was standing there waiting for me and she said “Ha”. Not sure if that is Hi, or her way of saying Heidi…

So, if you could keep Delaney, and the rest of CLAD, in your thoughts, in hopes that this was just a fluke, we would all be thankful. It was such a terrifying experience. I don’t wish that on anyone. I know how I still feel, two and a half days later. I cannot imagine what Lyz is still going through. I’ve told Lyz I will let her do all of the worrying about Delaney, Lyz is mine to worry about.

Those of you who are friends on Facebook and were there with us holding our hands in the ER, thank you. We could feel your love and concern. Thank you for the Facebook comments and the text messages (so many that my phone died!!) I know all of my readers would have been there, but I don’t know how to blog on this phone!!

Budget Cuts

Most of you are aware that Jenn has been mostly unemployed for the last year.  This makes money a hair tighter than when she is employed as unemployment just doesn’t pay the same amount.  While we are enjoying her having all this wonderful time off, we do have to make some changes in our lifestyle to account for this tiny gap in income.

So…while we are seeing a doctor who is monitoring my drug use and ovary/follicle sizes, we will be doing the actual inseminating at home this cycle 🙂

I was nervous about it at first.  But we have talked with another couple that has done the same thing.  B even offered to be on speaker phone with Jenn to “walk” her through it.  After turning a thousand shades of red and telling Jenn there was no way in hell that my vaginal canal would be broadcast over speaker phone (yes, I am aware that speaker phones only transfer sounds, not images) I shared that embarrassing story with Lyz.  Her response?  Well that isn’t fair.  I wanna be on speaker phone too.  I guess I’ll just put it on webcam and broadcast it to the world??  I’ll be back with the link to that later (not.)

Years and years ago when Jenn and I first started talking about baby making, Lyz bought us a turkey baster.  Now every time I use that turkey baster (for its actual purpose thank you very much) I laugh.  B mentioned that Jenn would probably want to get one of those miner lights that goes on your forehead.  It would make it easier to see what she is doing and she wouldn’t have to hold a tiny flashlight in her mouth.

When Jenn shared her excitement about being able to purchase this light with Lyz, Jenn also worried that we might not be able to find one.  Lyz and Chris were kind enough to offer us one of their huge outdoor lighting systems that they use for backyard parties.  Thanks.  I think my neighbors might wonder why my bedroom was lit up like, um, I don’t know what.

Sunday afternoon I was sitting with Joni and Jenn’s mom at Jenn’s softball game when 99 Red Balloons started playing on my phone.  Lyz asked where we were in the game, the never ending 4th inning, why?  Stay there, we are on our way.  We have something for you.  I could hear Chris laughing in the background.  This cannot be a good sign.  Chris laughing??  It has to be something that will embarrass me, or the like.

After the game (lost by a lot to a very rude team) we walked with CLAD to their car and Chris had us turn our backs so Avery could hand us our gift….

Oh my word. Is that not the coolest, most thoughtful, not to mention practical, gift ever???   Thank you CLAD!!!!! The sides of the hat say “Explorer”. This may or may not have led to a few dirty jokes in our house.

So…trigger shot tomorrow morning. Insemination Friday. Fingers, toes, everything but my legs are crossed!!