Tuesday, February 01, 2005
My apologies for not updating regularly. It seems that now the family is out of crisis mode I don’t feel the need to write compulsively, plus there hasn’t been much going on of interest (unless you consider wiping a toddler’s nose every thirty seconds high drama).
Lately, though, there have been some things going on that I thought I would share today.
At the last follow up with Duckie’s pediatrician, we started talking about tubes – in her ears, that is. I won’t go into a full-blown discussion of middle ear anatomy (here's an overview if you're curious) – suffice it to say that we have the option of going ahead with the surgery or risking another few years of constant ear infections. We reviewed her history and saw that she has had five EIs in just under a year. The last two infections have been resistant to antibiotics – this latest one has fought three different medications and she still has fluid in her ears according to the ENT we saw yesterday. Dr. Baker (who I do trust) said that five is the cusp – at six, they would definitely send us to the ENT, but at five they leave it up to the parents. We thought it would be better to go ahead and deal with the root cause of the problem (no drainage when she gets colds or is cutting a tooth) instead of waiting for yet another ear infection and then heading to the ENT. Because at this point – let’s face it – another EI is always just around the corner.
We went to see the ENT yesterday. He’s not the kid-friendliest doctor in the world, but then I’ve been spoiled by Dr. Baker and the staff at Hendersonville Peds. They scheduled a pre-op visit with the ENT on Monday, and she’ll go in for surgery on Thursday (2/10). Brian’s mom has graciously booked a flight from Florida to stay with Duckie the day after the surgery so she (Duckie) doesn’t have to go back to day care until Monday, and neither Husband nor I have to take more time off work.
I’ll confess I’m scared. There are always things that can go wrong. I comfort myself by saying that Pardee Hospital is a good facility – I’ve only run into a couple of nurses I didn’t like, and the place doesn’t have the nasty reputation of, say, Transylvania County Hospital or Park Ridge. While she will have to be under a general anesthetic (always a risk, no matter how small), the surgery itself is outpatient and there’s a good chance we’ll all be home in time for an afternoon snack.
But there’s no guarantee that this will work, either. The tubes could fall out too early and we may have to go through the whole thing again. When they do fall out, the holes could take their time healing. The tubes could just… well, not work the way they should.
Please understand that everyone I have spoken to about this procedure has given it high marks. The ENT said that in his 30 years of doing the surgery, no one has been put to sleep and not woken up. Yeah, it could happen… but it probably won’t.
On another clinical note, I had what will probably be my last appointment with my counselor last Wednesday. He’s comfortable letting me schedule sessions with him as needed, and I guess he trusts me enough to believe that I will call him if I feel I’m getting into a dangerous area.
I could write about work issues now. “There’s a lot going on” is a hell of an understatement. Or health and fitness – two co-workers and I just finished walking the four stories of steps in the plant four times and we’re all a little fagged out, as they say in Britain. (“My legs feel like Jello” is how they say it in my office.)
But there’s been another development that’s more important. Husband is back, and hopefully to stay. On Sunday he brought a suitcase full of his clothes (not just to wash, either) and another addition to our family – a very strange-looking kitten named Miss Price. She looks like someone pasted her together in Photoshop – patches of calico, stripes, spots, pure white, and a white ring around her tail that makes me wonder if raccoons and cats really can make kittens. As Husband says, she’s all cat – every kind out there, from what we can tell.
She and Duckie are getting along famously, although they haven’t yet learned to share toys. Tinker isn’t terribly happy about the newbie, which is understandable. I’m trying to show Tinker some extra love, but he spends most of his time outside anyway, so it’s especially difficult to shower on the affection. No such problem with Miss Price – if you sit down for more than half a second, she jumps in your lap and starts purring so loudly you just can’t bring yourself to move – for a long time. And we discovered last night that she’s not shy about bed space – although Duckie somehow managed to kick her off.
As for husband and me, we’re taking things slowly. We’re starting off by trying not to hurt each others’ feelings, and trying not to step on each others’ toes. He understands that when he left, Duckie and I had to circle the wagons pretty tight. Opening up the defensive formation to bring him back into our lives will take some gentle, steady adjustment, and solid boundary-setting on both our parts.
So we’re taking things not just day by day, but sometimes hour by hour, making slight course corrections to account for each other’s moods and schedules and needs. Which is what I always thought a marriage was about, anyway. I’m hoping we’ll get pretty good at it – good enough to last for a couple more decades, at least.
I heard Sweet Honey in the Rock this morning on WNCW, and I thought it would be worth posting the lyrics to close. It’s called On Children, and the poem itself was written by Kahlil Gibran.
Your children are not your children
They are the sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself
They come through you but they are not from you and though they are with you
They belong not to you
You can give them your love but not your thoughts
They have their own thoughts
You can house their bodies but not their souls
For their souls dwell in a place of tomorrow
Which you cannot visit not even in your dreams
You can strive to be like them
But you cannot make them just like you
Strive to be like them
But you cannot make them just like you
Posted by andi at 10:57 AM