Mar 23, 2012

Femur Fracture and The Dyslexic Paramedics

Leonardo da Vinci was dyslexic

I think I'm tired.

On Tuesday when we came home from The Teenagers surgery I was exhausted but up until 1 am trying to get her comfy and situated. And then there is 6 am and work the following day.

On Wednesday we were in the car to take The Boy to school when nature called. I ran shrieking back into the house barely making it. Probably stress I told myself.

We eventually arrived at The Boy's school late and Ms. Trinidad of the front office looked at me. "This is very unlike you to be this late!"

MOM HAS DIARRHEA!" The Boy explains in his loudest voice.

Ms Trinidad started to to giggle. And then the howling laughter began from another direction. Mrs-Needs-To-Be-Canonized bursts out of a side office clutching her stomach and laughing. I took a bow and drove to work.

Einstein was dyslexic

On Thursday I finished work, came home and lay down with The Teenager, both of us exhausted. My cell phone made some weird noises and when I checked it realized it had not taken a charge during the night. What can you expect from a $14.95 Wal-Mart go phone ? My expensive texting phone which i need for my job took a dump the day before my van died. No. I can't afford a new one. Phone or van.

I plugged the ghetto phone in to the living room outlet and it rang twice but every time I looked at it the screen went black. I figured whoever called me would call my home phone if it was important.

Walt Disney was dyslexic

The Baby's school bus arrived, we unloaded her and piled in to the van to pick up The Boy from school. The Teenager wobbly on Vicodin in her bathrobe and The Baby covered in finger paint. She was green and yellow.

When I arrived in the school car circle I noticed 2 fire trucks and one ambulance. And then I noticed a teacher running across the lawn towards me. For a brief second I tried not to look at her hoping she wasn't after me and that she would go away. Go away. Go away.

But I knew. Lord . Did I know.

"The Boy! The Boy! He fell! Go around the back."

Sir Isaac Newton was dyslexic

I was relieved to see The Boy sitting up on a stretcher surrounded by a crowd from school and a group of firemen and paramedics. The paramedic informed me The Boy had hurt his knee. It did look a little swollen but I've learned to consult the Boy.

Femur or knee?


Is it broken?

"Yes. I want to ride in the ambulance."

Where does it hurt?

"Here." he points. "I want to ride in the ambulance."

This is not life or death. You do not require life saving equipment like oxygen. You are riding with me.

On a scale of 1 to 10 his pain was a 5.

I plucked him off of the stretcher and put him in the van.

I realize later how bizarre our conversation sounded to innocent onlookers. Unless you have a child with OI and in that case it was a perfectly normal conversation.

Winston Churchill was dyslexic

I dosed him with Hyydrocodone and Motrin.We arrived at the ER and two burly security guards helped me move The Boy to a wheelchair. The triage nurse took him back immediately. I found out later that many of the dozens of families waiting complained about The Boy being taken back immediately assuming it was because he was white. The triage nurse informed them that The Boy had a femur fracture. Your child has a cold. Buzz off.

One of my major pet peeves are people who use the local emergency room as their primary care physician. They drive me insane and the cost of medical care over the edge for the rest of us poor paying slobs.

And the white issue? You don't want to go there with me.


Architect Jorn Utzon was dyslexic

The Boy did well until we took him for his x-ray and the muscle spasms began. A small segment of kids with OI suffer from debilitating spasms during fracture times and not only are they excruciatingly painful, they are also dangerous. Children fracture on top of fractures from the spasms themselves. Of course The Boy is a member of this small club.

Lewis Carroll was dyslexic

The only thing that helps is IV Valium.

"We are out of IV Valium," ER Dr. Garcia informed me.


Steven Spielberg is dyslexic

The nurse informs me there is also a nationwide shortage of migraine medication, Phenergan, some chemo drugs and some blood pressure pills.
So they give him Valium by mouth and IV Morphine. As the ER paramedic attempts to start the IV The Boy looks at her and says, "there is no blood return."

"I can't believe you just said that to me," she smiles. She turns to me and asks what his IQ is. I assured her it was normal but he is gifted in soooo many other ways.

None of which i care to go into at the moment.

Yes, Stephen Hawking also dyslexic

The femur was cracked but the intramedullary rod on it's last leg (literally) held it together and kept the crack from displacing. As it turns out he did not fall. He was walking towards a classmate and the femur spontaneously broke sending him to the ground.

I had them put on a long leg splint in the ER. We "had a choice." Were they kidding? Of course I wanted him immobilized. Wait a minute....could this be where the IV Valium is going? The treatment was a tad Bob Marley-ish no worries mon-ish. Since when do you not splint a cracked femur on an OI kid?

Last night was a little rough.

The Boy is also dyslexic

And the dyslexic paramedics?

I phoned Mrs-Needs-To-Be-Canonized from the ER as I felt terribly sorry for her hoping she had recovered from the fracture fiasco and wondering if the paramedics got there any quicker than they did when Attila had the seizure at the Valentines dance and Mrs-Needs-To-Be-Canonized was chasing them around the block on foot waving her hands in the dark and screaming, "I'm old. I'm fat. I'm going to have a heart attack right here in the street!"

No. It did not go well this time either.

"One fire truck arrived at the church office. One fire truck at a students house across the street. And one ambulance parked in the school parking lot."

Obviously her call to the dispatcher after the paramedics circled the Valentine dance for 10 minutes going up and down streets didn't do much good. It seems the school is still "off the grid."

And then there was the dyslexic paramedic who wrote 25lbs for The Boy's weight instead of 52 lbs and who wrote The Boy's first name down as my last name. And then dropped his clip board of notes on the ground and then couldn't find it until Ms. Zookeeper, The Boy's teacher, handed it to him and when she did it was apparently love at first sight for the paramedic. He couldn't take his eyes off of Ms. Zookeeper after that. Apparently none of the paramedics could take their eyes off of Ms. Zookeeper.

Yes. I know. I know. She is "hot" (per The Boy) but focus boys, focus!

This afternoon I'm still in the clothes that i went to work in yesterday morning and slept in last night. The Baby needs a bath and The Teenager is complaining because she is still in her nightgown.

"I'm still in my PE uniform and my tighty whities and I need a bath. " The Boy states trying to cheer The Teenager who is still experiencing post surgical pain.

"But at least my under wear aren't yellow."

Ah, yes. Gifted.

In sooo many ways.

Mar 20, 2012

Happy Anniversary Mr. Snuggles

Mr. Snuggles in his favorite pink retro chair

Last night as I was packing for round two of The Teenagers dental surgery I remembered to pack Mr. Snuggles, the Teenagers favorite toy in the entire world. Mr Snuggles was accidentally left at home during her last hospitalization. Bad move. Very bad.

Mr. Snuggles has been with our family for about 8 years. The Teenager won him at a church Easter Egg hunt and crowned him Mr Snuggles on the spot. The Teenager names all of her babies the second she acquires them and never and I mean NEVER forgets their names from that moment forward. This has always amazed me. The same memory that thinks Martin Luther King, Jr. is, "I dunno the son of God?" can recall all of those names?

Of course when I went to pack Mr. Snuggles I was semi-horrified regarding the state of his current personal hygiene so i
tossed gently placed him in the washer on the delicate cycle last night. When I woke up at 6 am I ran to the washer with the intent to plop Mr. Snuggles in the dryer for a quickie fluff.

Mr. Snuggles looking rough


Did I hang him out on the clothes line last night? But more importantly how could I have forgotten hanging Mr. Snuggles out on the clothes line last night? I put my shoes on and traipsed out to the clothes line on the side of the house in the pitch dark praying i didn't sink in any Vanna White surprises along the way.

The clothesline was empty. I know I'm forgetful but how can one lose an effeminate rabbit so easily?

And then a thought occurred to me.

Upstairs in The Teenagers bedroom I found The Teenager and Mr. Snuggles sleeping peacefully. That is until I removed Mr. Snuggles from The Teenagers damp, right arm pit.

"Hey! Hey! Where are you taking Mr. Snuggles?"

Mr. Snuggles looking coy

We arrived at the hospital this morning with Mr. Snuggles in tow and ran smack dab into Miss Violet. We've known Miss Violet, a hospital employee, for over 12 years and it seems like every time we show up Miss Violet pops up. It's absolutely uncanny. Twelve years worth of uncanny. A while back i started to suspect that Miss Violet is really a black guardian angel with a very nice weave.

Miss Violet has always had a soft spot for The Teenager and always stops me to ask, "How's my girl?"

Today Miss Violet popped up in the outpatient building lobby as we were heading towards the walkway to the main hospital. When I told her why we were there and gave her a 10 second synopsis regarding the previous wisdom tooth fiasco Violet raised her right hand high in the air and shouted, "LORD JESUS, BLESS THIS CHILD TODAY!"
Startled me half to death along with everyone else in the crowded waiting room.

Call me silly, however, but after hugging Miss Violet goodbye and heading to admissions I had the peaceful sensation that this surgery was going to be different from the last surgery. I also decided if it actually was different I was going to find Miss Violet before every surgical procedure involving every one of my children and have her pray for them in her succinct, shockingly loud manner.

Mr. Snuggles tries to hold it together in the surgical waiting area

After admissions and a pregnancy test we were escorted to the surgical waiting area where we sat for two hours. Yes. I said pregnancy test. As a nurse I agree. As a mother I'm thinking ludicrous.

Surgical holding area. Is it over yet?

From the surgical waiting area we were escorted to the surgical holding area where we waited for one hour.

Eventually, The Teenager and Mr. Snuggles were taken to surgery. The Teenager for her remaining two wisdom teeth to be extracted and Mr. Snuggles to have his teeth cleaned. Or so the nurse informed Mr. Snuggles who did not look terribly pleased with the idea.

The nurse anesthetist could not get over "how beautiful" The Teenager was and commented to this effect three times as we walked back to the operating room.

I have to admit The Teenager totally rocks a hospital gown and I'm not just saying that because I'm her mother.
And it's hard to miss those gorgeous choppers which everyone is impressed with.

America's Next Top Hospital Gown Model

At the moment we are home. The Teenager has finished her pureed, Chick-fil-A kids meal and chocolate milkshake and is singing in the bathtub. Pureed chicken nuggets is a first for me but a necessity because unlike January's mess this time The Teenager is h-u-n-g-r-y and feelin' fine.

The dental procedure this time was the yin to the January yang.

In other words, it went beautifully thanks to Dr. Brady who, turns out, was neither Jan nor Marsha. And thanks to Miss Violet who obviously has a direct line to Lord Jesus. And last but not least, a special thanks to Mr. Snuggles for being a loyal companion to The Teenager bringing comfort during difficult days like today for 8 long years.

Happy Anniversary Mr. Snuggles. Here's hoping you'll hang around with us for another eight Easters.

Mar 3, 2012

What Up?


Thank you to all who have inquired if I am alive. I am. To say I have not been inspired since my last post is putting it mildly. Thus, my absence.

In the meantime things around the homestead are about typical.

Tomatoes have made it through the entire winter and are now bountiful. I have big plans for canning salsa but since I have been too tired I've been freezing the ingredients for a later date. My friends tell me my fatigue is "time change" induced. I can't ever remember a "time change" kicking my butt like this before, though.

The Iris's that my neighbor gave me are exploding. I love flowers but I especially love flowers given to me by another gardener. Remembrance is as beautiful as the blossom.

The family van took a major dump.
I was able to bail it out of mechanics jail after posting $1763.00 bond. Unlike county lock up mechanics do take charge cards. How do I know this? Don't ask.

The Teenager will be admitted next Tuesday to the local children's hospital to have her remaining two wisdom teeth extracted. Please pray.

The Boy and I are shooting hoops in the evening lately and having a great time. I played basketball in middle school and loved it and B-ball with The Boy is a great aerobic work out. I don't recall concern over breaking a hip in middle school though or a play by play announcer yelling, "and the old lady scores!" but the rest of the game hasn't changed much.

We are knee deep in IEP doo-dee with The Baby who will be entering Kindergarten in the fall. I have met with the school psychologist, school physical therapist, school occupational therapist, school speech therapist, school teacher, school social worker and probably the school janitor regarding, "next years placement." Why? Because the school she has attended for the past two years cannot accommodate her handicap. Yes. You heard me. They are looking for an "appropriate" classroom setting for her.

Wait! What happened to accommodations in all classroom settings? What happened to the hard and fast ruling our county just handed down that all children must now go to their "zoned school" no matter what.

All children except handicapped children that is.

It is a continuous source of amusement to sit in these meetings.

Until next time...