:: blogging: mccord style ::

Don't Say I Didn't Warn You About Bird Flu

Weeks ago...

Good Morning America did a story on the 'upcoming pandemic' this morning, basically covering the governments new warnings and urging the citizens of our country to get ready, were a pandemic to strike. If you want to see their story, you can do so by clicking here.

So, my friends, I urge you all to get ready,and be prepared. If nothing else, you'll be prepared for any kind of emergency, when it happens. Apparently, it's going to hit Alaska first. They're already tracking infected flocks that are on their way there.

I know some of you might think I'm acting like a nut-job, but I promise you, I'm one of the most level-headed people I know. So get your act together, and get stocked up for your family's sake.

Here's a good link, giving a bunch of general information about how the avian flu could affect you: ABC's Avian Flu Page. And here's the government site. And if you want more information, or additional links, email me, and I'll send you more info.

And if you're less of a reader, and more of a 'watcher', here's video.

Bird Flu

Did anyone else watch the recent Oprah show about Bird Flu? And if so, were you as seriously freaked out as I was? No, really. I am usually able to watch things fairly objectively, and not get sucked in to things, but all I could think while I was watching the show and listening to the stats (360 million people could die, the healthiest of us are the main targets), was how ill prepared our family is for something like that. We don't even have a first aid kit (except for the one that comes in your car when you buy it). If you didn't see the show, there's a pretty good recap of what was said here, on survivetheflu.com. It's worth a read, and as you're my friends I want everyone I know to be prepared for this, as Dr. Osterholm, director of the Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy, said, it's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when.

Doctor Celebrity

Ross and I went together (alone! without kids!) to see my neurosurgeon today. And I realized a few things while we were there.

You know that special awe (or respect) you (me?) sometimes have while you're waiting for your doctor? The feeling like, while you're waiting in the exam room, you should speak in somewhat hushed tones, not get up, stay put, don't look at things, don't touch anything. That kind of thing?  I realized, Ross and I have spent so much time waiting for doctors this past year, we don't really have that awe anymore. We were laughing SO hard the entire time we were in there, I almost fell off my chair and wet myself I was in such a gale of giggles. I felt like I owned that room. I got up and wandered around, went over to the counter to stretch my back, was looking at the forms on the wall, playing with the soap dispenser and the sink (with mirror!), checked out my scar, played with and pretended to lick the plastic spine, etc., etc. Ross got up and played with the door (Stanford has these doorstops that are magnetic, and he could NOT figure out how they got it to stay open).

While I was leaning over and stretching my back, I happened to see this form.  Wow! Now that's not the kind of form you see everyday. 

And then of course, they had me fill out the requisite form telling them why I came in to see them, how my back is doing, etc., etc. And Ross and I began our normal riff on this form. If you've ever been to visit a doctor, you know the form  one I'm talking about. Whenever I've been in the hospital, or even just at a regular doctor, Ross and I (because we're obnoxious) find a lot of delight ripping on it.  I know there's a reason for it; to help patients convey their current state of misery. I get it. I'm sure it's helpful. Somewhere. (I'll have to consult Lorrel on this one to see if doctors think it's as lame as we do.) But the graphics are so asinine, and it just seems like just asking someone to describe how they're feeling would do the same trick. Maybe because I haven't gone to med school it alludes me. But whatever. Like I said, Ross and I have probably spent hours making fun of this form. I'm not kidding. Even when I was drugged enough to kill a small dog last time I was in the hospital, I had a nurse point to it, and ask my level of pain, and even in that sorry state I totally cracked up.

So of course, given that a) we're obnoxious and b) we were in there for an hour, we had a lot of time to kill. So, what did we do? We spent a good half hour mocking this form.  And really, my husband makes me laugh like no other. And this was no exception.  We decided to start trying to imitate the pictures, so when the doctor came in, I could tell him that I was feeling like my eyebrows were halfway up my forehead, with a slightly crinkled brow, and one side of my mouth was up (laughing at the lame form) and one side of my mouth was down (because of my stupid back). And so as we sat there busting each other up, we decided, let's do them all! And of course, we had the camera phone...

Here's how I was going to tell Dr. Kim I was feeling:

And here's how I've felt recently:

And here's how I felt in the hospital:

But haven't felt that bad since. Thank goodness for the form...otherwise how else could I have let the doctor and nurse know how my back felt!

And, true to form, Dr. Kim came in (did I mention we waited an hour? during which time we heard him arguing with a book editor or something letting them know he was about three chapters behind), he came in, didn't even sit down, looked at me sitting in the chair and said, "So! You're great! Good! Good! We'll see you about 3 more months!"  Before I could even ask him to augotraph my chest, let alone do the face I'd been working on, he was out the door. I'm not kidding -- he 'saw' me for about 30 seconds.

Back Fat (And not the kind you're thinking)

My back's been hurting me, for about two weeks. My lower, right-over-my-scar part of my back. Well, a little to the left, actually. And when I went to see another doctor for my other issues, I asked her to check it out, and she said that it was indeed swollen on that side. Buh. (She also said, 'boy! this part must've taken awhile to heal.' So then I got to tell her about the weeks of the Infected, Oozing Open Hole, and Ross getting to stuff gauze into the OPEN HOLE in my back. (It's amazing what we humans are capable of adapting to. In fact, watching two babies shoot out of me probably seems fairly tame in comparison.) So I've got an appointment to see my neurologist tomorrow at Stanford. I'm praying (and hopeful) it's nothing major.

But that's not exactly what I wanted to write about, but it leads into what I DO want to write about. As all 13 of you who read this blog regularly know -- I HEART the internet. I would marry it if I could. Well, maybe not that much, because it takes too long to find things as funny as my husband, (and I'm not sure how I could've gotten it to stuff gauze into my back hole) BUT -- I've used this here internet since before Al Gore invented it, when it was mostly bulletin board systems, before even prodigy, AOL and Compuserve. In fact, in an ironic twist, my brother Grady, who also loves the internet, used to rag on me about how often i was on the computer. Anyhow, one of the things I love about it is the way you can find information so quickly and easily -- about pretty much any subject (sometimes I find information on subjects I absolutely never wanted to know existed). Anyhow, I was searching for efficacy of posterior lumbar interbody fusion. (I'm not a doctor, I just watch a lot of fake doctors on television have a large vocab and a lot of stuff wrong with me.) Anyhow, usually I LOVE the depth and breadth of this internet-thing. However, in my searching I happened upon a site that had PICTURES from my kind of surgery. Pictures of the spine, the stuff they removed. And on. And on.

Dehydration...the thirst that refreshes

Just an FYI -- the beginning-ish of this post is not for the squeamish (there's lots of barfing), and I think it might appeal to possibly: Shawnee (she's so nurse-y), Wyatt (becoming nurse-y) and Lorrel, Dr. Extraodrinaire, and Kimmy, because well, she's been there a few too many times hereself. And, believe it or not, it's an actual post, not just a link to pictures or whatnot.

Truly, and strangely, I have no idea where to begin this post. It's been so long (sorry). Life is/always/has been crazy. Sometimes I wonder if it's our family, of if it's just crazy for everybody?

The meaning of the title? Well here's a fun story for you. I started feeling not so hot two Thursday's ago, just a little queasy-ish. Which turned into full-on bile-throwing-up-violent-dry-heaving for an entire week (that would be, ending Friday), two stays in the ER and a visit to the doctor's office. Here are some highlights: meds that won't get the headache under control, passing out on the table a few times and being gently patted (read: slapped-ish, and my bed being flipped halfway upside down to get my feet above my head) to get me awake, being stuck a total of 11 times with a needle, because, 'well, you're so dehydrated, we can't get into your vein,' and then when they're giving me my last bag of fluids there was a kink in my IV (the part that was IN MY HAND ALREADY, so I had a huge exposion of saline into the top of my hand that they oh so gently rubbed back into my skin -- nice bruises!)...so I'm still fairly exhausted and shaky (not lots of sleep with the head poundage (because, of course, I kept throwing back up the pain meds they gave me), black and blue bruises all over my arms from all the bad needle sticks. I haven't been that physically ill (I'm not counting pure pain factor, which the endometriosis and back surgery covered), but being seriously sick like that since I was 12 years old, and my poor dad had to hold me in the shower under freezing water to lower my temp (which incidentally my mom and dad had to do that loads when I was little -- lucky them), while I puked and puked. It pretty much sucked. And they ran a load of tests on me (cat scan, x-rays, ultrasounds), just in CASE we might not have hit our taxable deductible for medical this year too --- I think I helped out.

How Annoying Is It?

That your husband keeps beating you to the punch about what you want to rant about?

The answer is...

VERY annoying.

That being said, I highly recommend you go read this long (and informative/heartbreaking) post about the Terry Schiavo case.

I've mentioned before (but am too beat to go searching the archives right now) how much this case just fires me up. So since I didn't get my rant in on time, go read my husband's by clicking here -- he ripped it up.

Performance Anxiety, Some Kvetching and Some Light at The End of the Tunnel

I haven't posted so long, I'm actually feeling like, what do I do? Do I have anything to say that might be entertaining/enlightening/funny/weird? Do I have any information to convey? Should I blog, or just read others blogs?

I need to get back into this more regularly.

First off - before i say anything else -- thank you so much to all the thoughts, prayers, encouraging words that have been written here, emailed to me or people who called just to see how we're/I'm doing. It has been a tremendous blessing. You don't really understand isolation until you lay in bed for (practically) five months straight. I think the isolation has been the hardest thing to bear these past months. Yes, I hurt every day, and yes, I miss being able to 'do' things with my kids. But hands down, the hardest part has been the isolation.

And I really don't want this to sound like a sob story, or an appeal for sympathy. Being alone, fairly disabled, with television or reading material as your primary company is really hard. And it's easy to slip into self pity, which interstingly, doesn't really happen that often. What DOES happen though, is that I start thinking about my friends, and wondering what they're doing. And then I start getting sad, because I really have missed so much! I miss seeing my friends. And while I love and adore getting calls and emails, it really doesn't live up to actually seeing someone in person, and having them lay on the bed with you, talking and laughing. And that's been the hardest, because that really hasn't happened a lot. And then my mind can really go on a bender: nobody loves me, I'm not important enough in people's lives to come and see, blah, blah, blah. Whine, whine, whine. And then I start feeling guilty for judging my friends like that, because I KNOW that they have crazy/harried/busy lives just like we do, and I really do know they love me. But, when you're alone...it's easy to let your thoughts run wild, and not reign them in. But I'm trying and mostly succeeding. And where I don't succeed, Ross steps in and helps me.

On an entirely different note. Here's something I didn't realize. You can go from 10 in the morning to 5 at night solely watching court tv shows. I kid you not. And it's taken a LOT of TV watching to realize that. So at least I'm spending my time wisely, and getting stuff done while I'm recuperating. =)

I have been reading a lot though. And as you may have noticed, I changed my books I'd recommend list (there in the left-hand bar, keep going, keep going, riiiiiiiight THERE!), I changed it so you could see my 'notes' about a particular book. They're part review/part reason why I love them.

Speaking of books, I just finished one (it's listed in that same column you just checked out.), The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters, was a great book exploring the relationships of family and sisters. It was beautifully written. There is a quote of some stanzas from a Yeats poem that I just loved, because it really captures how I feel about my girls right now.

I sigh that kiss you,
For I must own
That I miss you
When you have grown.

Isn't that beautiful? The time I have with them is so precious, and so fleeting. My girls come and lay in bed with me, and we watch shows together, and read books together, and make animal sounds together. And we laugh together.And sing together. And we fall asleep together. I cherish the time we ahve. I so wish that I could roll around with them on the floor, and chase them down the hall, and be the silly/fun/crazy mommy of old. Especially since they grow so fast. And who knows how much longer they'll want to do those things. Who knows when they'll be replaced with friends and homework and activities. When laying in bed with mommy and singing Old MacDonald Had a Farm for the 437th time will cease to be desirable to them. Where holding hands in bed, with our heads on one pillow watching Seasame Street is deemed 'so babyish.' I watch the changing angles of their faces and the pudginess of their baby wrists turn into thinner, child-like wrists. When I can hear them coming down the hall by the swish of their diaper. And I want to stop them and keep them here, and wrap myself around them. And when I have these thoughts, I grab them and kiss them, and nuzzle their necks and smell their wondrous baby smell. They grow so quickly and I don't want to miss a moment. And yet, I am. And that is the hardest part, the missing of all those moments with my girls. And I love when people tell me, "Oh, you should have heard Sofia say this," or "You should have seen Bella today," and while I love hearing anecdotes and kind or laughable, or funny things they do, I'm am also jealous of that time they got to experience something with my kids that I didn't, and for a moment I feel robbed. I love them so much sometimes I look at them and my heart yearns and aches because of how much I love them. And I wonder if this is how my mom felt about me when I was little. And if she feels the same way now? I wonder if I will always feel this way about them, where I want to envelop them in love and kisses and just breathe in their smell, and play with their beautiful hair, or marvel at their feet, so beautiful in their very uniqueness. I wonder if it will always be this intense, and if not, why not? I look at them and I see the future, and tiny twinges of what God originally intended our lives to be...

Sickness is such a manifestation of our broken world. And I try to break free of the ties my sickness has on me. And yet, when I do, I find myself hurting more, and even more weary, from the wiggling free of the constraints of not being able to do things for myself. Ross has been so steadfast in keeping me where I need to be, despite my protestations otherwise. He'll plead with me to stop cleaning, or folding the laundry, because he knows the repercussions later on that night when I'll be whimpering in pain, unable to get into a comfortable position.

Ross has been so amazing. I can't even tell you the huge weight he is shouldering right now. Besides trying to get his new business off the ground, and flying steadily (which it has been) and trying to fit in actual work between taking care of me: bringing me meals, and water, and reminding me to take my medecine, to rubbing my back tirelessly, or just coming in to sit with me once in a while, because he knows I'm practically knawing the sheetrock because I'm so bored and sick of being in this room. He's both mommy and daddy: he gets the girls up, and ready for the day, feeds them breakfast, lunch and dinner, takes them to appointments and pre-school. Changes diapers, and reads books before bed. He holds and cuddles when fingers have gotten pinched, and brushes tangly hair, and plays house with dollies, and pretends to be Prince Charming and goes shopping for our food, and does he dishes and picks up the house. I think it was Tami who said he is living the 'In sickness and in health, in good times and bad' part of our marriage. We both are. And as cranky and whiny and snively as I get, he is there to hold me, while snot runs down my face and drips onto his jeans while I cry. When he should be the one crying on me. He is incredible and amazing, and I don't know what I would do without him. I always feel that way, but I feel it in an entirely new way. There really are no words to be able to thank him for all he has done, and continues to do for his family. He has been so unflaggingly diligent in taking care of us all. And just as I feel like I couldn't do without him in an entirely new way, I also feel the love that I have for him as grown and broadened in an entirely new way. And if I weren't in this position, I never would have discovered another way to love him. But I do. I didn't think it was possible to love him more. But I do. Thank you Ross, I'm so humbled and grateful for you. Thank you for all you do for me and for your girls, who adore you almost as much as I do.

So after hearing all that you'll understand why I'm so thrilled that we got a call from Stanford saying that they've decided to see me, and that I have an appointment in two weeks, and would I please bring my MRI's and anything else pertinent. And I had to hold back my scream of delight and giddiness as she's telling me these things, these things that she's probably told a thousand people, and they probably roll out of her mouth of their own accord, she's said them so many times. She's probably reading an email, or filling while she's talking to me, because it's so rote and robotic what she's saying, I don't think she realizes the uplift in my tone, nor my barely disguised joy.

I know there will be more pain again. Have I talked about how much I'm dreading surgery again? Don't worry I will. But that's for another post.

To end on a good note...Ross and I are going away tomorrow (oh, I guess it's today now), for two nights -- yes, you read that right -- TWO NIGHTS in San Francisco. We're splurging and staying at the Ritz-Carlton, which is something we never do (if you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you'll know that I am a devotee of Priceline and their $50ish dollar a night four-star hotel stays in San Francisco. However, because the goal of those two nights and three-ish days is to basically be a hermit in our hotel room: movies, books, naps, magazines, spa treatments, and did I mention naps? Since that was the purpose of getting away, to spend time together, uninterrupted by client calls, cranky kids clamoring for our attention, and the monotony of being in one room for months on end, so we decided to go for it and stay in a place where we were gauranteed a beautiful room and wonderful room service. It's the first time we've ever stayed in a 5-star hotel and I'm giddy with anticipation. Mostly because we'll get to spend time together and talk and hold hands and walk down a street without a stroller or a diaper bag or kids needing to be changed, or fed, or put down for a nap.

To have uninterrupted adult time, since we're gearing up for round two of intense pain, post-surgery, and we thought this would be a good way to refresh ourselves just a little before it all begins again. Or rather, continues. And I really just wanted to give Ross a break, and time to for him to not have to think about anything more imporant than whether we should have room service or go out for a few hours. My sister has volunteered (thank you, thank you, thank you) to be with the girls while we go away. I'm sure I'll have pictures and a recap when I'm back. But for now, I'm getting tired, so I'll leave, but wanted to say, again, thank you, thank you my friends and family. For the calls and emails, for dropping by, or taking Bella and Sofia to play. For coming over and trying to tackle our mountain of laundry, or the dishes in the sink. They are more appreciated than you know. Thank you for loving us and thinking and praying for us at this time. It makes a difference, no matter how much whining and kvetching I may do. I love you, and miss you and I hope to be around a lot more in the (hopefully very) near future.