Praise Jesus!

I'm feeling soooooooo much better, thanks to those of you who care. And to those of you who don't...get off my blog.

In honor of the true miracle that is my almost fully functional sinuses (and every other miracle I take for granted every day) I've changed my favorite songs to some that remind me to give credit where credit is due. Thank you Jesus for the big things, and for the little things. For a truly blessed life, and for clear snot.

From critical condition to cautiously optomistic

Some of you know I've been battling a cold for the last 10 days or so. Nothing too horribly dramatic, just stuffy/runny/snotties and a general blah feeling. Officially the "blah feeling" is called malaise. I prefer this term because it sounds much more sympathy-worthy than "blah." So I was suffering from generalized malaise and cold-like symptoms, and then on Wednesday night after my girls Bible study (hopefully not BECAUSE of my Bible study) I got a headache. I've had some headaches in my day, but this one felt like it could grow into a doozy. So I popped some aspirin and went to bed.

At about 5:30 yesterday morning I awoke to The Headache from Down Under (and I'm not talking Australia). It was so bad that I was almost convinced, despite all my medical studies, that my head might actually explode into a trillion tiny pieces. I took one of the two Percocet we had left from various drug dealers, I mean good friends, who'd passed them on to Dan when he broke a rib last Thanksgiving. You can tell we're big druggies in this house. The Percocet had probably expired in or around November of 1999, but I took it anyway, fell into a coma at around 6:15am and ended up waking up in a stupor at 7:45, realizing that Jake had to go to preschool in 30 minutes.

My heroic sister agreed to take Jake to school because I was failing the sobriety test just while walking from my bed to my bathroom, so I probably wouldn't have made it out of my driveway without being pulled over. Jake left with a granola bar in hand, and I collapsed into the recliner while Ty whipped us up some pancakes and an omelet and brewed a strong pot of coffee. Oh wait, he had a granola bar also. I had some Excedrin.

Ty watched a weeks worth of TV while I slept in the family room, may the Lord richly bless OPB and TiVo manufacturers. I thought I was feeling better after I'd slept, so I picked up Jake at preschool and realized, while making the kids lunch, that the Headache was going to come back in full force. Ty went down for a nap, and I called my doctors office and my wonderful mom came over while they squeezed me in for an appointment.

Sinusitis, says the MD. Sinus infection. Headache to beat all headaches. Honestly, the worst pain I've had since childbirth. I thought that after taking the 2 medications he prescribed for me last night that I was in the clear, but I woke up at 4:15 this morning and was seconds away from waking Dan up to tell him I had to go to the ER for pain medicine. I had taken the final Percocet before going to bed last night, and of course I didn't ask the doctor to prescribe any more because...I'm an idiot. I finally fell back to sleep at 5:30 and woke up with a dull ache which was upgraded to stabbing pain when I sat up, but hasn't been nearly as bad since then. The worst is over. It has to be, right?

Wow, all that to say, "Holy Headache, Batman." I have renewed sympathy for my patients.

Tys will be Tys

It seems like my last few posts have been neglecting my 2nd born, so I just wanted to give you an update on what Ty's up to. EVERYTHING. That pretty much describes him. Up to everything, in to everything, all about everything. The kid just doesn't stop.

Here's a few recent examples:

• He got out Jake's new toothbrush and toothpaste and tried to brush Felix's teeth this morning.
• He painted the kitchen floor and cabinets with baking soda when I thought he was finishing his breakfast.
• While sitting on my lap as I was typing an email, he grabbed a ball point pen and stealthfully wrote all over his arms. I didn't notice until he got frustrated that the pen was running out of ink.
• He asked for "one pinch" of sugar as I was cooking and ended up with approximately 1/4 cup all over his face/hands/shirt/shorts and another 3/4 cup scattered across the kitchen floor.

A few recent direct quotations:

• "Mom we need to go frew the carwash because our car is stinky." (He had just pooped)
• "What...in...the...wher-ald is going on here?" (The bathroom stool was not in it's proper place.)
• "Mom, I want you take good care a me." (He says this while fake crying after I've scolded him for being naughty.)
• "I need a bandaid." (After every fall, trip, pinch, bump, accidental brush against the couch, etc. The funny part is that he's the toughest kid imaginable. The child just loves bandaids.)
• He says "why" after every question I answer regardless of what I say. "Can I hit Jake?" NO. "Why?" "Can I buy that?" No, it's too expensive."Why?" "What time is it?" 7pm. "Why?" "Can I have a treat?" Sure, you ate a good lunch. "Why?"

Oh, my sweet precious baby. What am I going to do with myself when YOU go to preschool? I won't know what to do with a clean house.

Not my typical weekend

Funny that Melanie B commented (thanks, stalker!) on the last post, because guess where I was this last weekend...

Wildhorse Canyon (AKA the epitome of middle-of-nowhere-ness). I was the camp nurse for a group of First Call families (police/fire/paramedics) which was pretty much a joke because it's not like those people don't know what to do in an emergency. I did this in June as well, and my mom came with me, which was very fun but not very eventful which was just as we'd planned.

This time Ann, best mom-in-law in the world, and Jake best 4-year-old Stump boy in the world came with me. From the very beginning it was quite a different trip. We got stuck on I-84 just before Hood River (less than an hour after starting the trip) and ended up at an almost stand-still for over 1 1/2 hours. By the time we got to Wildhorse we'd been in the car over 5 hours. I'm thankful I brought bottles of water and trail mix, and that Jake has been practicing peeing outside the last few months. Honestly, I'm too tired to give details of the whole trip, except that Jake has never had so much activity, so much sugar, and so little sleep in his entire life. This is his honest-to-goodness dinner on Saturday night...ice cream on top of a cookie, cotton candy and popcorn. Yep, I'm accepting nominations for Mom of the Year.

No major injuries, and no life-flights out of the canyon, so I'm glad there's no stories to tell about my official camp duties. Just lots of sun, fun, and...pun(s)?? Forget it, I'm done. Ask Jake. Or Ann, her memory is probably a little more accurate than his. And besides, he won't be out of his sugar induced coma for another few days.

Musings from the ER

I wrote most of this the other night (morning?) when I did a night shift in the ER. I didn't post it because I knew I'd have 28 sentences that made no sense because my eyes were crossing at the time. I almost deleted it, but I just edited my incoherancies (I know, not a word)...and here you go. A little glimpse into another portion of my life:

I'm at work right now, finally getting my federally mandated 30 minute break. Note that I got here at 9:30pm, and it's now 5:50am, and I am just now getting my first chance to sit down, not to mention empty my elephant sized bladder. I've been downing coffee tonight like it's going out of style, so you really should be impressed.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall in a busy ER. Here are just a very few of the highlights:

• A few people with respiratory problems. The young ones who don't smoke 3 packs a day went home, and the old ones, along with the ones who bring their own ash trays, got admitted.
• A 16-year-old who was in a gang fight and has a stab wound to the face.
• About five patients with migraines (probably only 2 of whom are legit).
• Four people with dental pain (none of whom are legit).
• A schizophrenic woman high on cocaine who is restrained to her bed after swearing she'll kill us all.
• A patient with chronic back pain for 10+ years who decided that at 2am the ER would no doubt cure him.
• A lady tweaking on meth who fell off the back of a truck and only bruised her knee.
• An incredibly foul mouthed 21 year old "gentleman" with a laceration on his upper lip after being punched in the face by his father. I almost gave him a matching one on the lower lip.

That's been my night so far. And you are probably sleeping in your nice warm comfortable bed, your head resting on a fluffy pillow, no need for a Big Gulp of bad coffee and a can of pepper spray in your pocket...sucker.

I'm officially...old.

Jake started preschool today. He ate his breakfast, chose his outfit, picked his snack, packed his Cars backpack (thanks Fredericks), calmly walked out the door, and drove himself away into the sunset. Er, sunrise. Alright, I was the one who drove, but it feels like he just grew up about 20 years today.

He walked into the classroom, said "see ya later, Mom" and that was that. I'm realizing what it will be like to be a mother of boys, because on the car ride home after school I asked him to give me all the details, and he said, "it was fun." Did you have a great time? "Yep." What did you do? "Played and stuff." Did you make any friends? "Yep." Seriously, could you give me more than a one word answer? "Ok." What else did you do? "We painted."

There you have it, folks. He had fun. He met friends. He painted.

At least he's not too old to yell, "MAMA!!" and run to give me a hug when I picked him up after school. Kinda doubting that will last through middle school. But here's hoping.

Danny J.

28 years ago the world became a better place. A tiny little dark haired olive skinned babe cried his first tears, looked up at his loving parents, and probably searched the room to find a TV so he could watch his first football game. I haven't confirmed it with my mom-in-law, but I'm fairly certain Dan was born with an ESPN magazine attached to his right hand. That gleam in his eye was the glorious thought that someday there would be an invention called Fantasy Football that would drastically increase his quality of life. Until then he would tuck away every sports statistic (the more obscure the better), the college, high school, and jr. high of each professional athlete, and the ability to intensely watch 2 games, study a Sporting News, and type a taunting email to a friend cheering on his rival.

Of course my husband has an obvious passion for sports, but what I love about him the most is his passion for his family. I'd never ask him to sacrifice the most exciting game of the year, because I know he'd do it in a heartbeat if he really needed to. Plus we have TiVo, which I'm pretty sure was actually invented by a young mother. But even if we didn't, I know his priorities are in the right place.
Thanks, Danny J. for being a great husband, an amazing daddy to our boys, a loving son, a loyal friend, a genuine man of God, the wind beneath my wings, my strength when I am weak... I'm everything I am because you love me. I may have just gotten a little carried away, but seriously, I love this man. I'm proud to be his wife.

Happy Birthday, dude.