Does anyone else think that "Do They Know It's Christmas?" is the most uncharitable "charity" song around? It's downright laughable! So much so that I can't help but wonder if there isn't meant to be some sort of sardonic undercurrent beneath the song's earnestness. I mean, there's the most awful line, the line mentioned above, then, later on, we raise a glass to everyone, including "them, underneath that burning sun." ACK! Mix in some "clanging chimes of doom" and "bitter sting of tears" and, well, I admit it, I laugh my *ss off every time I hear this song. Probably not what "Band Aid" was going for, but I digress...
The true meaning for my title really pertains to how I feel when one of my partners is on call and it isn't me. I thank G*d it is them instead of me; because we have been insanely busy. Last call I delivered 8 babies in a 24 hour shift and admitted 9, 10, and 11 in labor. All of the rooms were full and our overflow was spilling into other rooms in the hospital. I have no idea what was going on nine months ago, people, but holy geez, the babies can stop coming any old time! We are T-minus 10 days from Christmas, and I didn't have enough to do, so I thought I'd sit down and let you know that I am still alive...and mostly well...and still wishing to win the lottery so I can become independently wealthy and play internet games and get buff and be the envy of the botox set (without using botox) and never, ever be on call again. I don't think Santa can deliver that kind of present, unfortunately.
This is going to be a magical Christmas for the Whoo family. Bean is 4 and CindyLou is 7 and both are steeped in the wonder and magic of the season. Their joy and wonder is palpable. I love it. It brings a tear to my eye. We only have so many magical Christmases with them, and I happen to be on call on Christmas-flipping-Eve this year. So my Christmas wish is that none of my patients get a special Christmas delivery in the wee hours of Christmas Day morning, so I don't have to miss out on the magic this year...hopefully Santa can manage that. Merry Christmas to all 2 of you still reading out there, may your holidays be Merry, Bright, and Doom Free! :)
Showing posts with label Bean. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bean. Show all posts
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Friday, September 03, 2010
Little Wonders
I sat with my patient, a new mother, in the examination room. She was there for her first post-partum visit and we were discussing the events of the last few weeks. We chatted about breast feeding, birth control, lack of sleep, how annoying it is that men can sleep through *anything*, and then, I asked, as I always do, about how she was handling things emotionally. I always make it a point to screen for post-partum depression, many times, if you don't ask, they will not tell you how they are really feeling. This time, though she passed the screening for depression, she gave a laugh and said, "For the first time, I know why my mother is the way that she is." She went on to elaborate how she always made fun of how emotional her mother is, and now how she couldn't watch Kleenex commercials any more without bawling like a baby. It is so true. When we become parents we are forever changed, not only do we understand our parents better, but the way that we look at the whole world is different.
For me, it was the same. Before I became a mother, I loved to watch scary movies. The scarier the better. Imagine my surprise when, not long after Cindy Lou was born, and Mr. Whoo and I settled in to watch a horror flick when I realized that I had changed. I could not watch it, couldn't even get past the first 30 minutes. Why? Because there was a little girl child in it who was missing, and I couldn't handle thinking of a child (my child) being lost, scared, and alone. I never realized how many horror films use disturbing images of children before having a child of my own. It changed how I watch movies even now, far removed from the emotional lability of the immediate post-partum days. The same holds true for news stories involving children, footage of the 2004 tsunami devastated me, same for Katrina the summer after. The tears flow more freely now, happy, sad, and wistful. Most of all, music speaks to me, and often moves me to tears. There are certain songs I associate with different stages of my children's lives, and find myself tearing up just thinking of the lyrics. For Cindy Lou, it is "Baby Mine" and "Return to Pooh Corner." For Bean it is "Sweet Baby James" and "Little Wonders." Especially these lyrics:
"Our lives are made, in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate.
Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain."
So now I know how my mother felt when I was younger, when Cindy Lou turns to find me wiping away a happy tear or two and says, "Mommy, if you are happy, then why are you crying?" Perhaps it is because the transformative joy and wonder of having a part in creating these precious lives fills up our hearts until they break, just a little, from the magic of it all. How have your children changed the way you see the world?
***Cross Posted at Mothers in Medicine***
For me, it was the same. Before I became a mother, I loved to watch scary movies. The scarier the better. Imagine my surprise when, not long after Cindy Lou was born, and Mr. Whoo and I settled in to watch a horror flick when I realized that I had changed. I could not watch it, couldn't even get past the first 30 minutes. Why? Because there was a little girl child in it who was missing, and I couldn't handle thinking of a child (my child) being lost, scared, and alone. I never realized how many horror films use disturbing images of children before having a child of my own. It changed how I watch movies even now, far removed from the emotional lability of the immediate post-partum days. The same holds true for news stories involving children, footage of the 2004 tsunami devastated me, same for Katrina the summer after. The tears flow more freely now, happy, sad, and wistful. Most of all, music speaks to me, and often moves me to tears. There are certain songs I associate with different stages of my children's lives, and find myself tearing up just thinking of the lyrics. For Cindy Lou, it is "Baby Mine" and "Return to Pooh Corner." For Bean it is "Sweet Baby James" and "Little Wonders." Especially these lyrics:
"Our lives are made, in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate.
Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain."
So now I know how my mother felt when I was younger, when Cindy Lou turns to find me wiping away a happy tear or two and says, "Mommy, if you are happy, then why are you crying?" Perhaps it is because the transformative joy and wonder of having a part in creating these precious lives fills up our hearts until they break, just a little, from the magic of it all. How have your children changed the way you see the world?
***Cross Posted at Mothers in Medicine***
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Aw, yeah!
Hi! Don't you love how I swear that I'm back to blogging and then don't post for two weeks? Time keeps slip-sliding away, but the main reason is that I was on *vacation.* Woo hoo, right? There were good, bad, and ugly parts, just like any old fashioned family vacation. The good: time with family, spending time in, near, and on the water, reading books (for fun!), eating good food, and having absolutely no responsibilities, pagers, emails, or Internet access. The bad: family overkill, NO AC in our rental (and 90 degree temps, if you know me, you know how disastrous this was), mosquitoes the size of my pinky finger (and a blue million mosquito bites), not really having anything to *do*, eating way too much good food, and no Internet access. The ugly: 23 hours in the car (each way!), with a 6 and almost 3 year-old. Yes, you read correctly, a total of 4 of my vacation days were spent driving in the car, with my whiny, don't- know-how-great-they-have-it children, slowly going insane. I believe that the first "Are we there yet?" came about 17 minutes into the trip, so yeah. Fun times.
The hilarious thing is, Mr. Whoo and I were crazy enough to make this trip about 5 years ago, with our just over one year old, and swore we would never do it again. HAHAHA! See how time dulls the sense of abject horror? Well, time, and over $400 per person for plane tickets. The first time around, CindyLou was just a little over one year old, and, while we had a DVD player (the makeshift kind that would hang in between the front seats and plugged into the cigarette lighter), CindyLou had the attention span of a gnat, and would only watch *one* of the many DVDs we had brought for her pacification, er, viewing pleasure. Any other of the videos made her bored, or scream, so we lucky people in the front seat got to listen to Ses.ame Stre.et "Sing Along" approximately 4872 times. The first couple of times, it was cute. We sang along with the songs and giggled at CindyLou's response. The next few times, we grinned and bore it. The next 100 times after that we started making up rude lyrics to the songs and commenting the actors "Mystery Science Theater 3000"-style. Any time after that, we just became hysterical and delirious. Seriously, this 30 minute video was the funniest sh*t we had ever heard. To this day we have quotations from that show (both real and altered) that we use in every day life, including a very enthusiastic "Aw, Yeah!" which came from an owl-type character in one of the songs. At the end of that trip, we (for some reason) kept the DVD, but did not watch it again for 5 whole years (mostly because we could recite it by rote)....until this trip.
We were a good 6 hours into the first day of traveling in the car, the novelty had worn off, and the kids were no longer interested in the snacks, our conversations, or the scenery. We were each "taking turns" choosing movies or music, when CindyLou and Bean just could not agree on a form of entertainment. The situation was devolving, and no amount of Capr.i S.un or Gold.fish could keep our offspring from complaining about one another when Mr. Whoo suddenly got this evil smile on his face, looked at me, and mouthed "Sing Along." My response? "Aw, YEAH!" So we played it. Bean was enthralled, CindyLou was still enthralled, and Mr. Whoo and I were laughing so hard we cried. The rest of the trip, we tried to engage the kids in the old standards such as the "Billboard Alphabet" game, the "License Plate" game, and "I Spy." We tried to give them a little taste of what it was like to travel back in the dark ages before DVD players, iPods, and Ninten.do DS. I'm not sure how much they appreciate it now, but hopefully, in time, they will. It is funny how the things that drive you the most insane are sometimes the best memories that you have. So family vacations, gotta love them. Now I am back in the fray, and just waiting for the next extraordinary happening in an ordinary day. Aw, yeah!
The hilarious thing is, Mr. Whoo and I were crazy enough to make this trip about 5 years ago, with our just over one year old, and swore we would never do it again. HAHAHA! See how time dulls the sense of abject horror? Well, time, and over $400 per person for plane tickets. The first time around, CindyLou was just a little over one year old, and, while we had a DVD player (the makeshift kind that would hang in between the front seats and plugged into the cigarette lighter), CindyLou had the attention span of a gnat, and would only watch *one* of the many DVDs we had brought for her pacification, er, viewing pleasure. Any other of the videos made her bored, or scream, so we lucky people in the front seat got to listen to Ses.ame Stre.et "Sing Along" approximately 4872 times. The first couple of times, it was cute. We sang along with the songs and giggled at CindyLou's response. The next few times, we grinned and bore it. The next 100 times after that we started making up rude lyrics to the songs and commenting the actors "Mystery Science Theater 3000"-style. Any time after that, we just became hysterical and delirious. Seriously, this 30 minute video was the funniest sh*t we had ever heard. To this day we have quotations from that show (both real and altered) that we use in every day life, including a very enthusiastic "Aw, Yeah!" which came from an owl-type character in one of the songs. At the end of that trip, we (for some reason) kept the DVD, but did not watch it again for 5 whole years (mostly because we could recite it by rote)....until this trip.
We were a good 6 hours into the first day of traveling in the car, the novelty had worn off, and the kids were no longer interested in the snacks, our conversations, or the scenery. We were each "taking turns" choosing movies or music, when CindyLou and Bean just could not agree on a form of entertainment. The situation was devolving, and no amount of Capr.i S.un or Gold.fish could keep our offspring from complaining about one another when Mr. Whoo suddenly got this evil smile on his face, looked at me, and mouthed "Sing Along." My response? "Aw, YEAH!" So we played it. Bean was enthralled, CindyLou was still enthralled, and Mr. Whoo and I were laughing so hard we cried. The rest of the trip, we tried to engage the kids in the old standards such as the "Billboard Alphabet" game, the "License Plate" game, and "I Spy." We tried to give them a little taste of what it was like to travel back in the dark ages before DVD players, iPods, and Ninten.do DS. I'm not sure how much they appreciate it now, but hopefully, in time, they will. It is funny how the things that drive you the most insane are sometimes the best memories that you have. So family vacations, gotta love them. Now I am back in the fray, and just waiting for the next extraordinary happening in an ordinary day. Aw, yeah!
Monday, June 21, 2010
Summertime....
...and the living is, well, kinda crazy. Isn't that always the way? The more free time we seem to have, the more we fill it up with visits to the pool, spending time with grandparents, and trying to keep our kids from growing up so darn fast. I had to take a bit of a break from the blogosphere. I had gotten into a very bad habit of reading too many doctor-bashing blogs, and it was making me incredibly bitter and angry. Partially because of the blatant misinformation being bandied about, and partially because I know so many great, caring, and self-sacrificing people that are physicians, and to hear us all painted with such an ugly brush really p*sses me off. Not to mention how reading about how much people hate us out there was making me wonder why I was busting my *ss going above and beyond for people who didn't appreciate a d*mn thing that I did. So, I stepped away from the screen for a bit, and took the time to look around me.
In that time, life brought several patients my way that helped me to remember why my job is so important and yes, even still, appreciated. I did a 2 am emergency c-section on a woman who was actively abrupting at 35 weeks and helped save her life and her baby's life, as well. I helped two women, one with an early demise due to a fatal fetal anomaly, and one with a heartbreaking term demise to deliver and make it through the absolute worst days of their lives. I attended several "routine" deliveries and got to be a part of the happiest day in many women's lives (dreaded hospital setting and all). And I waited out a prolonged labor, complete with three hours of pushing and a pretty scary shoulder dystocia, and helped a first-time mother to deliver her healthy, 9 pound 15 ounce baby.
In the spaces in between, I got to celebrate CindyLou's 6th (!) birthday and her "graduation" from Kindergarten, enjoy some time with family and friends on the weekends that I have off, and I even successfully completed 2 weeks without eating any carbohydrates at all (and lost 6 more pounds, yay!) I think of this time last year, as we were preparing to make this move, and I was dreading July (as I always did, with OtherDoc's mega vacation looming in the foreground). This year we have vacations planned in July and Bean's 3rd (can you believe *that*?) birthday, and only 1 full weekend of call. I am finding my life again, and still getting to work in a field about which I am just as passionate, now with less burn-out! Whee! I also want to thank the sweet anon poster who asked that I not give up on the blog...don't worry! I may lose chunks of time in between posts, but I won't forget about you guys. I just have to find a way to make this blog funny again, and not so depressing and whiny! I will continue to fight the good fight for Ob/Gyns out there, and do my best to stop the rampant fear mongering by providing the example which contradicts the general blogosphere "rule." Good doctors do exist, we by far outnumber the "bad" ones, and we prove it every. single. day. Happy 1st day of summer, all! I am going to the pool. :)
In that time, life brought several patients my way that helped me to remember why my job is so important and yes, even still, appreciated. I did a 2 am emergency c-section on a woman who was actively abrupting at 35 weeks and helped save her life and her baby's life, as well. I helped two women, one with an early demise due to a fatal fetal anomaly, and one with a heartbreaking term demise to deliver and make it through the absolute worst days of their lives. I attended several "routine" deliveries and got to be a part of the happiest day in many women's lives (dreaded hospital setting and all). And I waited out a prolonged labor, complete with three hours of pushing and a pretty scary shoulder dystocia, and helped a first-time mother to deliver her healthy, 9 pound 15 ounce baby.
In the spaces in between, I got to celebrate CindyLou's 6th (!) birthday and her "graduation" from Kindergarten, enjoy some time with family and friends on the weekends that I have off, and I even successfully completed 2 weeks without eating any carbohydrates at all (and lost 6 more pounds, yay!) I think of this time last year, as we were preparing to make this move, and I was dreading July (as I always did, with OtherDoc's mega vacation looming in the foreground). This year we have vacations planned in July and Bean's 3rd (can you believe *that*?) birthday, and only 1 full weekend of call. I am finding my life again, and still getting to work in a field about which I am just as passionate, now with less burn-out! Whee! I also want to thank the sweet anon poster who asked that I not give up on the blog...don't worry! I may lose chunks of time in between posts, but I won't forget about you guys. I just have to find a way to make this blog funny again, and not so depressing and whiny! I will continue to fight the good fight for Ob/Gyns out there, and do my best to stop the rampant fear mongering by providing the example which contradicts the general blogosphere "rule." Good doctors do exist, we by far outnumber the "bad" ones, and we prove it every. single. day. Happy 1st day of summer, all! I am going to the pool. :)
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Things I Say Every Day (Home Edition)**
1. Good morning, sunshines!
2. I love you.
3. No.
4. What do you say?
5. Hmmmmm?
6. Put your clothes in the hamper.
7. Stop teasing your brother.
8. Stop torturing your sister.
9. Sorry, you cannot have mac and cheese for breakfast.
10. Sooooo, whatcha want to do for dinner tonight?
11. Thank you for (doing laundry, the dishes, going shopping) honey!
12. Are you ready for a bath time? A bath time party? This is old CindyLou (and Bean) ready to get that bath time started....
13. So, tell me about what you learned today...
14. I need some snuggles (or, the abbreviated, "snugs")!
15. I missed you today.
16. Did you set the DVR?
17. No, no, it is (CindyLou's/Bean's) turn to sit in the front of the tub.
18. Pick out the book you want to read tonight.
19. What was your very favorite part of today?
20. Good night, sleep tight, sweet dreams...see you in the morning.
21. Ahhhh, adult time!
22. We need to go to bed earlier.
23. I am going to bed early tomorrow.
24. I love this show!
25. Maybe we can work out....tomorrow.
2. I love you.
3. No.
4. What do you say?
5. Hmmmmm?
6. Put your clothes in the hamper.
7. Stop teasing your brother.
8. Stop torturing your sister.
9. Sorry, you cannot have mac and cheese for breakfast.
10. Sooooo, whatcha want to do for dinner tonight?
11. Thank you for (doing laundry, the dishes, going shopping) honey!
12. Are you ready for a bath time? A bath time party? This is old CindyLou (and Bean) ready to get that bath time started....
13. So, tell me about what you learned today...
14. I need some snuggles (or, the abbreviated, "snugs")!
15. I missed you today.
16. Did you set the DVR?
17. No, no, it is (CindyLou's/Bean's) turn to sit in the front of the tub.
18. Pick out the book you want to read tonight.
19. What was your very favorite part of today?
20. Good night, sleep tight, sweet dreams...see you in the morning.
21. Ahhhh, adult time!
22. We need to go to bed earlier.
23. I am going to bed early tomorrow.
24. I love this show!
25. Maybe we can work out....tomorrow.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
"Blah"ging
Wow, I just went fifteen days without even thinking about blogging! Maybe that is because I have delivered 12 babies in the last 2 weeks, including my second set of twins for the month. I am very happy to have attended 2 twin births this month, both vaginal deliveries, one without an epidural (go mom, woo!). February has been filled with post-dates patients and big babies (though none coming close to my recent 11 pounder!) It has also been filled with more C-sections than I would like to have, but I guess my good run of vaginal deliveries had to end somewhere.
The word is out that I am leaving the hospital. The feedback that I have gotten overall has been really positive. By that I mean, people seem sad to be seeing me go, but they aren't being jerky about it. Most people are very understanding of my family and call situation, as well as the reason why I am leaving. It's nice to know that I will be missed by the staff and the patients, for I will surely miss (most of) them. We have been showing the house sporadically. Let me tell you, getting the house "show ready" with two messy kids and (let's face it) two fairly messy adults is a serious challenge. After every showing I get this huge surge of hope that we will finally sell the house. And then? Nothing. I know it is a bum market right now, but the thought of carrying this house payment with us after we leave is daunting. So much hinges on whether or not we sell the house. Will we buy or rent in NewCity? Are we looking for temporary or more permanent? CindyLou will be starting Kindergarten (!!!) in the fall, so we are trying to find the area in which we want to settle in the "right" school district. So much uncertainty is fairly uncomfortable.
The licensing process is dragging on and on, but I think I have it all pulled together. Now I just have to get it all submitted. I don't know how anyone could fake being a physician and get a medical license. I can barely get all the bases covered, and I am totally legit! I just can't believe how much I am being nickeled and dimed to death on all of the various and sundry fees. I've decided that New State will be our final destination for the duration of my medical practice. I cannot fathom going through the licensure process yet again.
Mr. Whoo, CindyLou, and the Bean are all doing great. The Bean is 18 months old. (Can you believe it?) He is such a little sweetheart. His language has really taken off since he got his tubes put in last summer. He loves books, and will sit in your lap, snuggle, and read books for hours! He idolizes his big sister, and while he cannot say her name yet, he calls her "sissy" in the most adorable way. CindyLou is a stellar big sister, and, at times, is very much a little mommy to the Bean. She is so smart and curious. She drives crazy with her constant jabber sometimes, but I suppose this comes naturally. Both Mr. Whoo and I often got the admonishment of "Talks too much!" on our progress reports and report cards! Mr. Whoo continues to be the best husband on earth. I don't know where our family would be without him. I feel so lucky to have such a wonderful partner.
As for me? I'm getting through one day at a time. I am still 2 steps forward and 2 steps back (Paula Abdul reference completely unintended, sorry!) with respect to weight loss. I still find myself turning to food for comfort at the end of a long, hard day. I keep seeing everyone with whom I went to high school and college (via facebook, mostly) all looking so fit and well rested, I veritably seethe with envy at times. I look ten years older than I actually am, not to mention 50 lbs heavier than I should be. I know better times are on the horizon; I just need to quit making excuses. Any way, I just wanted to check in and let you know that I am still alive and kicking! Now I just have to figure out 2 snazzy posts for MIM before next Friday. Hmmm....
The word is out that I am leaving the hospital. The feedback that I have gotten overall has been really positive. By that I mean, people seem sad to be seeing me go, but they aren't being jerky about it. Most people are very understanding of my family and call situation, as well as the reason why I am leaving. It's nice to know that I will be missed by the staff and the patients, for I will surely miss (most of) them. We have been showing the house sporadically. Let me tell you, getting the house "show ready" with two messy kids and (let's face it) two fairly messy adults is a serious challenge. After every showing I get this huge surge of hope that we will finally sell the house. And then? Nothing. I know it is a bum market right now, but the thought of carrying this house payment with us after we leave is daunting. So much hinges on whether or not we sell the house. Will we buy or rent in NewCity? Are we looking for temporary or more permanent? CindyLou will be starting Kindergarten (!!!) in the fall, so we are trying to find the area in which we want to settle in the "right" school district. So much uncertainty is fairly uncomfortable.
The licensing process is dragging on and on, but I think I have it all pulled together. Now I just have to get it all submitted. I don't know how anyone could fake being a physician and get a medical license. I can barely get all the bases covered, and I am totally legit! I just can't believe how much I am being nickeled and dimed to death on all of the various and sundry fees. I've decided that New State will be our final destination for the duration of my medical practice. I cannot fathom going through the licensure process yet again.
Mr. Whoo, CindyLou, and the Bean are all doing great. The Bean is 18 months old. (Can you believe it?) He is such a little sweetheart. His language has really taken off since he got his tubes put in last summer. He loves books, and will sit in your lap, snuggle, and read books for hours! He idolizes his big sister, and while he cannot say her name yet, he calls her "sissy" in the most adorable way. CindyLou is a stellar big sister, and, at times, is very much a little mommy to the Bean. She is so smart and curious. She drives crazy with her constant jabber sometimes, but I suppose this comes naturally. Both Mr. Whoo and I often got the admonishment of "Talks too much!" on our progress reports and report cards! Mr. Whoo continues to be the best husband on earth. I don't know where our family would be without him. I feel so lucky to have such a wonderful partner.
As for me? I'm getting through one day at a time. I am still 2 steps forward and 2 steps back (Paula Abdul reference completely unintended, sorry!) with respect to weight loss. I still find myself turning to food for comfort at the end of a long, hard day. I keep seeing everyone with whom I went to high school and college (via facebook, mostly) all looking so fit and well rested, I veritably seethe with envy at times. I look ten years older than I actually am, not to mention 50 lbs heavier than I should be. I know better times are on the horizon; I just need to quit making excuses. Any way, I just wanted to check in and let you know that I am still alive and kicking! Now I just have to figure out 2 snazzy posts for MIM before next Friday. Hmmm....
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Done, done, on to the next one...
Oh, my poor little neglected blog, how I have missed you. I am finally done with the oral boards...at least for this year. All I can think about is of what I should have said that I didn't (and what I did say that I shouldn't!) The exam was over quickly, mercifully, but the more I think, the more morose I become. No matter now, if I fail or if I pass, I shall not speak of it again on the blog. Suffice it to say that I am done and trying to get over it, and now must focus my attention to the holiday that is a mere 14 days (FOURTEEN DAYS!!!) away. I have cards, cookies, and call on tap for the weekend, along with a Christmas and a birthday party. Oh, and online shopping, the working woman's savior.
Our house is properly Christmas-ed, thanks to Mr. Whoo. We have made the the obligatory mall Santa visit, complete with non-screaming children in the picture, a coup! CindyLou is *beside* herself with excitement. It is so wonderful. To see her joy and wonder about Santa and the season does my poor, 3-sizes-too-small, grinchy heart so much good. Bean is fascinated by the tree and the lights, and while he doesn't quite "get" it all, he is loving the experience. Of course, my favorite moment of the season thus far comes from Mr. Whoo, explaining our nativity to CindyLou.
Mr. Whoo: "...and this is Mary."
CindyLou: "Oh! Like 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'?"
Mr. Whoo: "No, more like Mary had a little Jesus."
It was priceless...maybe you had to be there. Anyway, I'm back, and, if the pregnant ladies cooperate (ha), I will try to get back to more reliable posting. Promises, promises. :)
Our house is properly Christmas-ed, thanks to Mr. Whoo. We have made the the obligatory mall Santa visit, complete with non-screaming children in the picture, a coup! CindyLou is *beside* herself with excitement. It is so wonderful. To see her joy and wonder about Santa and the season does my poor, 3-sizes-too-small, grinchy heart so much good. Bean is fascinated by the tree and the lights, and while he doesn't quite "get" it all, he is loving the experience. Of course, my favorite moment of the season thus far comes from Mr. Whoo, explaining our nativity to CindyLou.
Mr. Whoo: "...and this is Mary."
CindyLou: "Oh! Like 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'?"
Mr. Whoo: "No, more like Mary had a little Jesus."
It was priceless...maybe you had to be there. Anyway, I'm back, and, if the pregnant ladies cooperate (ha), I will try to get back to more reliable posting. Promises, promises. :)
Friday, October 10, 2008
In the Middle of the Night
It's time for my husband's annual "man weekend" with his high school buddies. For almost a decade, he and his friends find a cabin in the woods somewhere and behave (I am assuming from the pictures) as 10 year olds...that drink. Junk food, video games, and staying up way too late are part and parcel of the festivities. They look forward to it every year, and I'm happy to have him go. (The wives have a "girl weekend" in the spring, just to be fair.) So when I found out that he would be out of town for a weeknight (when I am on call for my patients), I thought to my naive little self, what's the worst that could happen? Ha. Ha. HA!
So I went about my regular single parenting duties in the evening relatively unscathed. Picked up the kids, got dinner on the table while Bean protested loudly that it wasn't fast enough for him, wrestled two squirmy kids through bathtime, and got everyone tucked in by a reasonable time. Then I prayed really hard that I could make it through the next 12 hours without having to leave the house. The peace lasted roughly 3 hours. The first warning bell came as a page from triage. A 38 weeker, possible early labor, contractions 20 minutes apart. The triage nurse said she was pretty sure the patient was "not doing anything" but we decided to observe her and let her walk for an hour. My second warning came at 1 am. The patient had indeed changed her cervix from 1 to 3 cm. A definite keeper. "Ok," I pleaded with the nurse, "PLEASE keep her comfy and pregnant for the next 5 hours so I don't have to pack my kids up in the middle of the night to come to the hospital." The nurse was fairly confident that the patient was not contracting regularly, and could probably coast until morning. I settled into an uneasy rest...until 2:30 am. I returned the page, thinking that I was going to have to drag in to cover for the patient's epidural. Imagine my surprise and dismay when the nurse answered the phone with "She's 9!"
Shit. Shit. Shit. It was off to the races...throwing on scrubs, rousting the kids up in their PJs, and flying down the highway in the middle of the night. "At least it will be fast," I chanted to myself as I sped to the hospital. I deposited the kids with one of the nurses and stepped into the delivery room just before 3 am. The patient was completely dilated and ready to push. She hadn't even had a chance to get *any* pain medicine, epidural or otherwise, due to how quickly she had progressed. So, the patient started to push, and *then* all hell broke loose. The first push sent the fetal heart tones down to the 30s. Ummm, surely that wasn't right! I placed a scalp lead to get an accurate tracing...still in the 40s-50s. Scalp stim...up to the 60s. Oxygen, reposition, knee chest. Nothing would bring the rate back up. The baby was at zero station. Too far up for vacuum or forceps. We tried a few pushes, but the head wasn't descending fast enough and the heart beat was a slow tick, tick, tick of a baby running out of time. After a quick verbal consent, we called the OR to let them know we were coming down for a crash section. "We aren't ready!" they said. They had another case going and needed to call in a team. "No time for that," I said, "This baby needs to come out now."
We ran the patient to the OR. The staff assembled a rag-tag team of recovery room nurses, opened the crash section cart, and haphazardly prepped. There was no time for a foley or to count instruments. Every second felt like an hour, though only 5 minutes had passed from calling the section to draping the patient. The patient went to sleep, and we got the baby out in less than a minute from the skin incision. She looked like a *million bucks*! She squalled as soon as she left the womb. She was pink! and happy! and had Apgars of 8 and 9! and didn't look at all like her strip suggested. I had truly feared the worst, the last terminal decel that I had seen like that, the baby had anoxic seizures after delivery. Luckily, this baby was great. The collective sigh of relief was audible in the room as I placed her on the warmer. The rest of the surgery proceeded smoothly, and I was happy to let the family know how well she had done.
As for the kids? I ran back up to labor and delivery to find them happily snacking on graham crackers and juice. CindyLou was entertaining the whole floor, and she kept saying how she wanted to be a doctor "just like mommy." (Oy.) We got them gathered together, I thanked the nurses profusely, and drove back home. "I like to go to your work, Mommy" Cindy Lou chirped, "It's still *night time*!" Once at home, the kids went back to bed without a fuss, and I crashed into the best 2 hours of sleep of my life.
The moral of the story? I survived! It could have been the worst case scenario, but we all made it. The kids did fine, the patient did fine, the baby did fine. It could have been a disaster, but it wasn't. I am ever so grateful for that, and never have I been so convinced that I *never* want that to happen again! Scary things do happen in the middle of the night, and sometimes the outcomes are not as good. I'm thankful for the nurses and OR staff that did what they could to make the surgery happen quickly enough. I'm grateful for the compassion the nurses showed to me and my children by caring for them when I had to care for someone else. Most of all, I am so thankful that my kids were able to take it all in stride and go with the flow. They are pretty amazing. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend, and are not bothered by scary things in the middle of the night.
So I went about my regular single parenting duties in the evening relatively unscathed. Picked up the kids, got dinner on the table while Bean protested loudly that it wasn't fast enough for him, wrestled two squirmy kids through bathtime, and got everyone tucked in by a reasonable time. Then I prayed really hard that I could make it through the next 12 hours without having to leave the house. The peace lasted roughly 3 hours. The first warning bell came as a page from triage. A 38 weeker, possible early labor, contractions 20 minutes apart. The triage nurse said she was pretty sure the patient was "not doing anything" but we decided to observe her and let her walk for an hour. My second warning came at 1 am. The patient had indeed changed her cervix from 1 to 3 cm. A definite keeper. "Ok," I pleaded with the nurse, "PLEASE keep her comfy and pregnant for the next 5 hours so I don't have to pack my kids up in the middle of the night to come to the hospital." The nurse was fairly confident that the patient was not contracting regularly, and could probably coast until morning. I settled into an uneasy rest...until 2:30 am. I returned the page, thinking that I was going to have to drag in to cover for the patient's epidural. Imagine my surprise and dismay when the nurse answered the phone with "She's 9!"
Shit. Shit. Shit. It was off to the races...throwing on scrubs, rousting the kids up in their PJs, and flying down the highway in the middle of the night. "At least it will be fast," I chanted to myself as I sped to the hospital. I deposited the kids with one of the nurses and stepped into the delivery room just before 3 am. The patient was completely dilated and ready to push. She hadn't even had a chance to get *any* pain medicine, epidural or otherwise, due to how quickly she had progressed. So, the patient started to push, and *then* all hell broke loose. The first push sent the fetal heart tones down to the 30s. Ummm, surely that wasn't right! I placed a scalp lead to get an accurate tracing...still in the 40s-50s. Scalp stim...up to the 60s. Oxygen, reposition, knee chest. Nothing would bring the rate back up. The baby was at zero station. Too far up for vacuum or forceps. We tried a few pushes, but the head wasn't descending fast enough and the heart beat was a slow tick, tick, tick of a baby running out of time. After a quick verbal consent, we called the OR to let them know we were coming down for a crash section. "We aren't ready!" they said. They had another case going and needed to call in a team. "No time for that," I said, "This baby needs to come out now."
We ran the patient to the OR. The staff assembled a rag-tag team of recovery room nurses, opened the crash section cart, and haphazardly prepped. There was no time for a foley or to count instruments. Every second felt like an hour, though only 5 minutes had passed from calling the section to draping the patient. The patient went to sleep, and we got the baby out in less than a minute from the skin incision. She looked like a *million bucks*! She squalled as soon as she left the womb. She was pink! and happy! and had Apgars of 8 and 9! and didn't look at all like her strip suggested. I had truly feared the worst, the last terminal decel that I had seen like that, the baby had anoxic seizures after delivery. Luckily, this baby was great. The collective sigh of relief was audible in the room as I placed her on the warmer. The rest of the surgery proceeded smoothly, and I was happy to let the family know how well she had done.
As for the kids? I ran back up to labor and delivery to find them happily snacking on graham crackers and juice. CindyLou was entertaining the whole floor, and she kept saying how she wanted to be a doctor "just like mommy." (Oy.) We got them gathered together, I thanked the nurses profusely, and drove back home. "I like to go to your work, Mommy" Cindy Lou chirped, "It's still *night time*!" Once at home, the kids went back to bed without a fuss, and I crashed into the best 2 hours of sleep of my life.
The moral of the story? I survived! It could have been the worst case scenario, but we all made it. The kids did fine, the patient did fine, the baby did fine. It could have been a disaster, but it wasn't. I am ever so grateful for that, and never have I been so convinced that I *never* want that to happen again! Scary things do happen in the middle of the night, and sometimes the outcomes are not as good. I'm thankful for the nurses and OR staff that did what they could to make the surgery happen quickly enough. I'm grateful for the compassion the nurses showed to me and my children by caring for them when I had to care for someone else. Most of all, I am so thankful that my kids were able to take it all in stride and go with the flow. They are pretty amazing. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend, and are not bothered by scary things in the middle of the night.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Happy Mother's Day
Happy Mother's Day to all of you Mothers, would-be-mothers, and glad-you-aren't-mothers, We had a great active weekend here. CindyLou had her 4th birthday party (dinosaur theme, of course, every girl's dream), and the Bean was baptized this weekend. I also was on call, but so far the call gods have been kind to us! May has been a crazy month, with lots of travel, and busy-ness in general. I am hopeful for the summer. I am looking to interview with other practices in the coming weeks. I am also going to meet "the other woman" this weekend at a mutual friend's wedding. Give me the strength to be civil and polite to this person with whom I regard with contempt. Apparently they are going to become engaged soon. It blows my mind how my friends can call her a "nice person" when I know and she knows that she is a home wrecker. Hopefully I won't get drunk enough to tell her what I really think of her! Today I am thankful for my perfect babies. They are truly the best Mother's Day presents of all!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
A Pox Upon Our House
Oh, what a sense of humour the universe has! The health of the Whoo household has been less than stellar this past week. Last Wednesday, Bean had his 6 month shots (at nearly 8 months) and got diagnosed with an ear infection for which he started Augm.entin. Last Wednesday evening, I decided to get a sympathy ear infection and spent the next 3 days in the most pain I have had since labor, and I started Augmen.tin and any other decongestant I can find to clear the constant sensation of my ear being filled with fluid. Sunday, on call, with the ear infection, I delivered a baby at 6:30 am, shipped a 32 week pre-term labor patient to the high-risk hospital, rounded on various complications of the post partum variety including an adrenal hemorrhage and a vaginal hematoma, labored a patient all day long, sectioned her for failure to descend past zero station despite pushing for 2 hours, and admitted a complex ovarian cyst. Monday, noticed a couple of raised bumps on the Bean's head, chalked it up to his sensitive skin, and whisked him away to daycare. Got to clinic, saw the 7 patients that were scheduled between 9 and 10 am, and got a call from the daycare that Bean's rash was spreading. Mr. Whoo picked up Bean and brought him to the office, where it was obvious that he had the chicken pox. I felt like the worst mother in the world for not noticing it that morning. I took him to the pediatrician on my lunch break, who confirmed the diagnosis, and canceled the rest of the day in the office to care for my poor sick baby.
I took Monday afternoon and Tuesday out of the office (but not off of the pager, which continued to sound every 1-2 hours like clockwork) to care for the Bean, and went to see the ENT on Tuesday. He essentially told me what I had already deduced; I had an acute otitis with an effusion. The otitis was clearing but the fluid in the middle ear (which is giving me moderate functional hearing loss, BTW) could remain until almost a month. A fragging month! Feeling like I have fluid lolling all through the right side of my head, and torturing my family with the high tv volume, and muttering "Huh? What? 'Ay?" like a little octogenarian with her "listening cone" anytime someone tries to speak to me for another freaking month. Fan-tastic. He added a Me.drol Dose.pak for extra fun with steroids to my treatment regimen.
Wednesday I had a 12 hour surgery/work day, made stressful by a surgical complication on one of my favorite patients. Mr. Whoo stayed home with the Bean, and proved himself un-house-husband worthy by failing to have dinner ready when I dragged myself and an exhausted CindyLou through the door after 6 last night. Mr. Bean had a particularly fitful, itchy night last night, so either of us slept very well, and today I am again taking out of the office, but on the pager to care for him. Call me crazy, but I am running out of patience and sympathy for the patients that just have to be rescheduled *next week* due to the fact that their golden ticket, ahem, "free" medical card runs out at the end of the month. Go to the freaking health department for your pap, for goodness sake, it's still "free" (ie. I will be generously subsidizing 30% of the salary for which I work 24 hours a day/26 days a month, so that you can play Wii and smoke weed all day long and still not have to pay a whopping fifty bucks for a pap smear). I'm just about all out of doctorly concern, and eyeing up my liquor cabinet right this minute, even though it is not quite noon yet.
So that, dear readers, completes your lovely week-in-review from the Whoo household. So, how are *you* doing?
I took Monday afternoon and Tuesday out of the office (but not off of the pager, which continued to sound every 1-2 hours like clockwork) to care for the Bean, and went to see the ENT on Tuesday. He essentially told me what I had already deduced; I had an acute otitis with an effusion. The otitis was clearing but the fluid in the middle ear (which is giving me moderate functional hearing loss, BTW) could remain until almost a month. A fragging month! Feeling like I have fluid lolling all through the right side of my head, and torturing my family with the high tv volume, and muttering "Huh? What? 'Ay?" like a little octogenarian with her "listening cone" anytime someone tries to speak to me for another freaking month. Fan-tastic. He added a Me.drol Dose.pak for extra fun with steroids to my treatment regimen.
Wednesday I had a 12 hour surgery/work day, made stressful by a surgical complication on one of my favorite patients. Mr. Whoo stayed home with the Bean, and proved himself un-house-husband worthy by failing to have dinner ready when I dragged myself and an exhausted CindyLou through the door after 6 last night. Mr. Bean had a particularly fitful, itchy night last night, so either of us slept very well, and today I am again taking out of the office, but on the pager to care for him. Call me crazy, but I am running out of patience and sympathy for the patients that just have to be rescheduled *next week* due to the fact that their golden ticket, ahem, "free" medical card runs out at the end of the month. Go to the freaking health department for your pap, for goodness sake, it's still "free" (ie. I will be generously subsidizing 30% of the salary for which I work 24 hours a day/26 days a month, so that you can play Wii and smoke weed all day long and still not have to pay a whopping fifty bucks for a pap smear). I'm just about all out of doctorly concern, and eyeing up my liquor cabinet right this minute, even though it is not quite noon yet.
So that, dear readers, completes your lovely week-in-review from the Whoo household. So, how are *you* doing?
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Wake Me Up Before You Go, Go
In my younger years, when this song first came out, I sang the next line, "...don't leave me hanging on a lively yo-yo." Hee. What exactly a "lively" yo-yo is, I cannot describe. What can I say? I wasn't the champion lyric interpreter that I am today. This song got stuck in my brain because, you guessed it, someone woke me up before he went (went). Mr. Whoo had an early morning service commitment that required him to be up and out of the house before 5:30 am, and CindyLou took that as a clue that she needed to be awake, too. Telling a 3 year old that it's too early to be awake just doesn't fly when Daddy is already up, showered, and out of the house, so no sleeping in for me! I am soooo sleepy, but Mr. Whoo and CindyLou are napping, and the Bean is happily awake. No rest for the wicked! He and I are hanging out, watching Tivo'd Ameri.can Id.ol. (We are just at the end of the group sing, and....Jazz Hands! Hee. The Bean seems to favor Michael J.ohns, maybe he has an ear for this sort of thing?)
It has been a harrowing week. I have had a couple of really sick patients. One patient had HELLP with platelets dropping into the teens before she finally turned the corner. The other patient got a high spinal instead of an epidural (!) and we were *this close* to having to intubate her. Luckily, the worst of it was that she felt particularly crappy and was incredibly numb from the chest down for nearly 3 hours. Basically she labored right down to the perineum before she could feel too push. She had a happy, healthy baby, didn't feel a thing for another 2 hours, and, thankfully, has no residual effects from the misplaced anesthetic. Yikes. I feel like I have worried enough this week to sprout several gray hairs. It also seems like all of my March babies are preferring to be born in February instead! I am on call this weekend, so I am hoping the next couple of days are more low key.
I've been thinking of what my ideal practice would look like, as my contract is coming due in the next year. Something like a true group practice (shared OB patients, but individual GYN pts), with 4 or 5 docs, each with one 24 hour "labor deck" call during the week (which would include all labors/inductions/rounding for the entire group for that day, with no office duties), the day post call off, maybe doing surgery during your call day, and doing office the other days of the week, taking weekend call every 4-5 weekends. Sounds nice, but I am unsure if it exists in a workable form. We love just about everything about where we are now except for the call coverage (or lack thereof) and the office manager, of course. I am going to initiate some discussion now, so that we don't have to scramble at the end of the contract for a new place to go, should it come to that. Hopefully it won't, and we can work out an acceptable deal. On that note, Bean just filled his pants...during Paul.a's new video. Another sign of his ear for talent? I think, yes. Have a great week!
It has been a harrowing week. I have had a couple of really sick patients. One patient had HELLP with platelets dropping into the teens before she finally turned the corner. The other patient got a high spinal instead of an epidural (!) and we were *this close* to having to intubate her. Luckily, the worst of it was that she felt particularly crappy and was incredibly numb from the chest down for nearly 3 hours. Basically she labored right down to the perineum before she could feel too push. She had a happy, healthy baby, didn't feel a thing for another 2 hours, and, thankfully, has no residual effects from the misplaced anesthetic. Yikes. I feel like I have worried enough this week to sprout several gray hairs. It also seems like all of my March babies are preferring to be born in February instead! I am on call this weekend, so I am hoping the next couple of days are more low key.
I've been thinking of what my ideal practice would look like, as my contract is coming due in the next year. Something like a true group practice (shared OB patients, but individual GYN pts), with 4 or 5 docs, each with one 24 hour "labor deck" call during the week (which would include all labors/inductions/rounding for the entire group for that day, with no office duties), the day post call off, maybe doing surgery during your call day, and doing office the other days of the week, taking weekend call every 4-5 weekends. Sounds nice, but I am unsure if it exists in a workable form. We love just about everything about where we are now except for the call coverage (or lack thereof) and the office manager, of course. I am going to initiate some discussion now, so that we don't have to scramble at the end of the contract for a new place to go, should it come to that. Hopefully it won't, and we can work out an acceptable deal. On that note, Bean just filled his pants...during Paul.a's new video. Another sign of his ear for talent? I think, yes. Have a great week!
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Going It Alone
December the first. Wow. I know that you are all dying (dying! I say) of suspense with respect to how solo call with an infant worked out for me. Chaotic? Anxiety producing? Strangely manageable? The answer is: All of the above! Fortunately for me, OtherDoc had "brought the house," so to speak, the week prior to his departure, so the weekend was eerily quiet with respect to laboring patients. I had lots of phone calls to field and triage patients to work up and manage, but actual admissions and labors were scarce. Unfortunately this lulled me into a false sense of security, because at 2 am on Monday morning I got the call that one of OtherDoc's patients had shown up to L&D in labor. Oh, and by the way, she is 8 cm dilated. Ack! There was no time for me to call my backup plan for childcare, since she lives a good 20 minutes from us, and by the time she got here the baby would likely be making an appearance. So I bundled up a very confused Bean, put him in the car, and away we went. Luckily for me it was a relatively slow night, and the nurses were thrilled to see him and watch over him.
I arrived just as the patient was starting to push, and my stomach knotted as I saw the verrrry sllloooww emergence of the baby's head. It was a hallmark shoulder dystocia presentation, and I locked eyes with the nurse, who knew automatically my suspicion. She moved quickly to get the bed down and the patient into McRobert.s. She also called an additional nurse for help. Sure enough, the anterior shoulder was wedged tightly against the pubic bone. Supra pubic pressure didn't budge the stuck baby. I reached posteriorly to try to deliver the posterior arm...no dice. By now, time seemed to have completely stopped. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears as the adrenaline surged, threatening to overcome my systematic approach to the delivery. Next step, I began rotation of the infant 180 degrees. Mercifully the anterior shoulder rotated free and the baby was delivered...a little purple but screaming. All 9 pounds and 13 ounces of him! Later the nurses told me that it was only 2 minutes total from head to body, but it felt like an eternity. I have had a few worse dystocias, where I have had to break clavicles, etc. but it never ceases to be scary. Bean, however, oblivious to the drama happening just steps from his cozy perch, slept sweetly the entire time we were in the hospital. What a kid.
We went back home for a couple more hours of fitful sleep before Monday began properly. Monday, by far, was the worst day. Hectic rounding, two laboring patients, busy office, an admission for a post operative abscess on one of OtherDoc's patients, and an eventual vag delivery and C-section for failure to descend (The baby never moved past 0 station despite 1 hour of "laboring down" and 2+ hours of pushing, poor girl!) My nurse had to pick up Bean from the daycare, and I didn't get home until about 8pm. Tuesday was moderately better, since I never even made it to the office due to a surprise labor, a preterm patient of OtherDoc's with seriously whacked out liver enzymes (but no other signs of HELLP), and drain placement on the post op abscess.
Suffice it to say I was properly exhausted come Wednesday morning, but I was optimistic for a smooth travel day with the Bean. Ha. Since this entry has run on quite long enough. I'll save that story for the next post! For now, we need to start "Christmas-ing" the house, and CindyLou will not be deterred any longer. More later...
I arrived just as the patient was starting to push, and my stomach knotted as I saw the verrrry sllloooww emergence of the baby's head. It was a hallmark shoulder dystocia presentation, and I locked eyes with the nurse, who knew automatically my suspicion. She moved quickly to get the bed down and the patient into McRobert.s. She also called an additional nurse for help. Sure enough, the anterior shoulder was wedged tightly against the pubic bone. Supra pubic pressure didn't budge the stuck baby. I reached posteriorly to try to deliver the posterior arm...no dice. By now, time seemed to have completely stopped. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears as the adrenaline surged, threatening to overcome my systematic approach to the delivery. Next step, I began rotation of the infant 180 degrees. Mercifully the anterior shoulder rotated free and the baby was delivered...a little purple but screaming. All 9 pounds and 13 ounces of him! Later the nurses told me that it was only 2 minutes total from head to body, but it felt like an eternity. I have had a few worse dystocias, where I have had to break clavicles, etc. but it never ceases to be scary. Bean, however, oblivious to the drama happening just steps from his cozy perch, slept sweetly the entire time we were in the hospital. What a kid.
We went back home for a couple more hours of fitful sleep before Monday began properly. Monday, by far, was the worst day. Hectic rounding, two laboring patients, busy office, an admission for a post operative abscess on one of OtherDoc's patients, and an eventual vag delivery and C-section for failure to descend (The baby never moved past 0 station despite 1 hour of "laboring down" and 2+ hours of pushing, poor girl!) My nurse had to pick up Bean from the daycare, and I didn't get home until about 8pm. Tuesday was moderately better, since I never even made it to the office due to a surprise labor, a preterm patient of OtherDoc's with seriously whacked out liver enzymes (but no other signs of HELLP), and drain placement on the post op abscess.
Suffice it to say I was properly exhausted come Wednesday morning, but I was optimistic for a smooth travel day with the Bean. Ha. Since this entry has run on quite long enough. I'll save that story for the next post! For now, we need to start "Christmas-ing" the house, and CindyLou will not be deterred any longer. More later...
Saturday, November 03, 2007
A Baby a Day
...keeps the doctor exhausted! It has been a big week for babies here in Whoo-ville. This is the week after the full moon, and man has it felt like it! Many believe that the day of the full moon is the big day for baby-having, but it has been my reality that the moon driven baby boom tends to fall either the week before or the week after the full moon. I have also noticed that there seem to be more demises and miscarriages during the new moon, whatever that may mean, and miscarriages also tend to come in threes.
My first delivery of the week was a multi-gravid patient with a history of rapid labors. She called me around 10:45 pm with "vaguely uncomfortable" contractions, due to her history, I urged her to head in to the hospital, and I tried to get a little rest in anticipation of a late night trek to the hospital. Triage paged at 12:30 am stating the patient was 3-4 cm with contractions every 6 minutes, she was admitted and wanted to move around so she started walking the halls. At 1:30 am she was 7 cm, and I rose from my cozy bed and cuddly baby, dressed, and was out the door within 5 minutes. On the way into the hospital, labor and delivery paged (around 1:45 am) and reported the patient was 9 cm. I walked into the hospital at 1:50 am, the patient's membranes ruptured as I walked into her room. She gave a low grunt as I quickly gowned and gloved, the nurses barely got the bed broken down, and the beautiful baby girl was delivered in one slow, fluid, controlled push at 2:00 am. No lacerations, no pain meds, just a quick and easy labor. I was back home and in bed by 3 am, but, as is often the case after a delivery, the adrenaline was flowing and I had a very difficult time sleeping. The day in the office passed in a blur, and then it was off to a costume party with the kids in tow.
The following morning, the pager bleated at 5:00 am, yet another early morning labor...just in time for Halloween! This patient, too, was 7 cm upon arrival to the hospital, and dedicated to delivering without pain medication...but she certainly wasn't happy about it! She had an epidural for her prior labor, and she kept remarking that "it never hurt like this last time." (!) She did very well, stayed focused, and delivered a bouncing Halloween boy at 7:30 am. She only had one small first degree laceration that did not require repair. Unfortunately, the plastic drape fell during the delivery spilling all sorts of wonderful goop upon the floor of the labor room. Ick. I then sprinted for surgery and once surgery was over, I dragged myself home...not for a much-needed nap, but for a shower and a trip to the kids' fall festival at the daycare. Then it was time to prep for Halloween tricks and treats. Lots of pictures of the costumed children, and a trek around our very hilly, steep driveway-ed neighborhood. CindyLou got more candy than she could ever hope for, Bean rode agreeably in the stroller, and Mr.Whoo and I exercised more in that one hour than we had for at least 8 weeks prior!
The following day, I had a scheduled induction for a post dates pregnancy. When I checked the patient, there was an odd band of scar tissue around the cervix...likely from a previous cervical surgery. The cervix was very effaced and thin, but it was only a tight 1 cm dilated. I waited for the patient to get her epidural, then gently stretched the scar tissue from 1 to 4 cm. I then headed for the office. At 11:30, L&D paged stating the patient was 7 cm and feeling pressure. I wrapped up my waiting office patients, raced to the hospital, and caught a baby at 12:05 pm. I barely had time to eat lunch before the afternoon patients started at 1pm.
The week ended with a jam-packed Friday morning office schedule, topped up with an afternoon scheduled repeat C-section. Fortunately this went beautifully, and I had time to go back to the office to finish up a bulk of charting and paperwork before starting an unexpected weekend off call. I even got to "sleep in" until 7:30 this morning, when I was awakened by the Bean's overflowing wet diaper...fun! We have plans to take CindyLou and Bean to the "Bee Movie" today and tonight to watch FSU get destroyed by BC (all the while hoping that some miracle will happen to let us actually win the game). Wine may, scratch that, will also be involved. Also, woo hoo, I won in Lara's contest! I never win anything! My luck has got to be looking up! :)
My first delivery of the week was a multi-gravid patient with a history of rapid labors. She called me around 10:45 pm with "vaguely uncomfortable" contractions, due to her history, I urged her to head in to the hospital, and I tried to get a little rest in anticipation of a late night trek to the hospital. Triage paged at 12:30 am stating the patient was 3-4 cm with contractions every 6 minutes, she was admitted and wanted to move around so she started walking the halls. At 1:30 am she was 7 cm, and I rose from my cozy bed and cuddly baby, dressed, and was out the door within 5 minutes. On the way into the hospital, labor and delivery paged (around 1:45 am) and reported the patient was 9 cm. I walked into the hospital at 1:50 am, the patient's membranes ruptured as I walked into her room. She gave a low grunt as I quickly gowned and gloved, the nurses barely got the bed broken down, and the beautiful baby girl was delivered in one slow, fluid, controlled push at 2:00 am. No lacerations, no pain meds, just a quick and easy labor. I was back home and in bed by 3 am, but, as is often the case after a delivery, the adrenaline was flowing and I had a very difficult time sleeping. The day in the office passed in a blur, and then it was off to a costume party with the kids in tow.
The following morning, the pager bleated at 5:00 am, yet another early morning labor...just in time for Halloween! This patient, too, was 7 cm upon arrival to the hospital, and dedicated to delivering without pain medication...but she certainly wasn't happy about it! She had an epidural for her prior labor, and she kept remarking that "it never hurt like this last time." (!) She did very well, stayed focused, and delivered a bouncing Halloween boy at 7:30 am. She only had one small first degree laceration that did not require repair. Unfortunately, the plastic drape fell during the delivery spilling all sorts of wonderful goop upon the floor of the labor room. Ick. I then sprinted for surgery and once surgery was over, I dragged myself home...not for a much-needed nap, but for a shower and a trip to the kids' fall festival at the daycare. Then it was time to prep for Halloween tricks and treats. Lots of pictures of the costumed children, and a trek around our very hilly, steep driveway-ed neighborhood. CindyLou got more candy than she could ever hope for, Bean rode agreeably in the stroller, and Mr.Whoo and I exercised more in that one hour than we had for at least 8 weeks prior!
The following day, I had a scheduled induction for a post dates pregnancy. When I checked the patient, there was an odd band of scar tissue around the cervix...likely from a previous cervical surgery. The cervix was very effaced and thin, but it was only a tight 1 cm dilated. I waited for the patient to get her epidural, then gently stretched the scar tissue from 1 to 4 cm. I then headed for the office. At 11:30, L&D paged stating the patient was 7 cm and feeling pressure. I wrapped up my waiting office patients, raced to the hospital, and caught a baby at 12:05 pm. I barely had time to eat lunch before the afternoon patients started at 1pm.
The week ended with a jam-packed Friday morning office schedule, topped up with an afternoon scheduled repeat C-section. Fortunately this went beautifully, and I had time to go back to the office to finish up a bulk of charting and paperwork before starting an unexpected weekend off call. I even got to "sleep in" until 7:30 this morning, when I was awakened by the Bean's overflowing wet diaper...fun! We have plans to take CindyLou and Bean to the "Bee Movie" today and tonight to watch FSU get destroyed by BC (all the while hoping that some miracle will happen to let us actually win the game). Wine may, scratch that, will also be involved. Also, woo hoo, I won in Lara's contest! I never win anything! My luck has got to be looking up! :)
Friday, August 17, 2007
Letter to Bean and Ramblings
Oh little Bean, you are already 4 weeks old. There are many days when I debate adding an "o" to the end of your pseudonym. Why? Because of the surprising, staccato bursts of sound which issue from both ends of your maturing digestive tract. Your other affectionate nickname is Vladimir, as in Vladimir "Pootin'". Yes, your parents are corny, may as well accept that now! Seriously, though you have got to be the gassiest baby I have ever the great fortune to know. And the sheer volume of solid waste that you manufacture on a daily basis? Impressive, my friend, especially for a breast fed baby. There is never any doubt of when you need to be changed, because we can hear you fill your diaper from across the room! I can't believe that I used to fret about your sisters weekly movements, only now to fret that there is nary a diaper change that you aren't at least a little dirty. You are the sweetest little man, though, so laid back. Every time you fuss, there is a solution. You can even fall asleep all on your own! This amazes me. You are also so serious, it takes a lot to get you to crack a smile; however, you are very chatty, cooing and squeaking all day long. I am treasuring this ever dwindling time with you, cuddling you when you sleep on my chest. Too soon you'll be "all grown-up," just like your big sister.
It's been a trying week in Whoo-ville. Last Friday I was practically in tears I felt so horrible, but I had no idea why...until I spiked a temp. Then the vague aching in my left breast took on a more significant role than an after-effect of overaggressive pumping. I had the fantastic luck of getting a rip-roaring case of mastitis. Fortunately for me, I could call in my own antibiotics. Unfortunately, I got really sick really fast. At one point my temp was up to 104.7, and Mr. Whoo was on the brink of forcibly carting me to the ER (I'd really have to be dying to go to the ER!) I knew I was on the correct meds, but when I was on my 24th hour of spiking temps, I must admit I had visions of MRSA dancing in my head. I defervesced sometime between Saturday and Sunday, and I'm still taking antibiotics. The illness took a lot out of me, and I was feeling pretty wiped out until yesterday, when the next great thing happened, we lost power.
Big deal, right? The loss of power in our particular section of the neighborhood occurs approximately every 15 days, and is out for 8-10 hours at a time. The frustrating part is that it is only our street. The other houses in our neighborhood, including the street over never lose power, so this puts us low on the priority list to have power restored. The first winter snowstorm that we had when we moved in resulted in power loss for 3-4 *days*, forcing us to move ourselves and (our then 18 month old) CindyLou into a hotel. When your power is out this long, you are forced to throw hundreds of dollars of food away, and spend your nights either sweltering or freezing cold, oh, and no cooking because the stove is electric as well. Throw in a 3 year old and a newborn and 10 hours of power loss in the middle of the night is just not ideal. We sweat our way through the night, CindyLou came into our bed because her nightlight was out, and Bean wouldn't nurse in the total dark, so we had a flashlight sitting upright on the bedside table, which woke up CindyLou, Bean was too hot to sleep on me, but wouldn't sleep in his bed, either. Mr. Whoo and CindyLou eventually moved to her room and Bean and I stripped the covers from the bed and rested, albeit fitfully, throughout the night. The following morning, poor Mr. Whoo had to go to work. I kept CindyLou home with me, which may have been insane, now that I look back...no sleep and keeping and active toddler entertained all day? Not the wisest of moves.
My hat is off to all of you stay at home mothers out there, especially those with multiple children. It was exhausting trying to keep up with all of the demands of both children. At one point, CindyLou decided that she wanted corn for lunch. Once I was able to detach Bean from the breast long enough to fix her lunch, I complied (I thought) with her request, and opened a can of corn. Oh no, it was meltdown time! You see, she wanted corn in a *line* (ie. corn on the cob) not a bowl! By the time I had her calmed down and eating the much maligned bowl of corn, the Bean had audibly filled his diaper, then CindyLou needed to go to the potty, then Bean needed to eat...so on and so forth. Mr. Whoo came home to CindyLou planted firmly in front of her portable DVD player with a movie, the house in utter disarray, and me catatonic on the couch with Bean sleeping on my lap. Mother of the year, I am not. That day did cement in my mind that I do not have what it takes (patience, aplomb, creativity, a will of iron, etc.) to stay home with kids. I think they would be miserable and I would be certifiable. This is a small thing to hold onto as my re-entry into the work fray draws ever closer. *sigh* I have more to post on that at a later date.
I believe that I have rambled long enough for now, my poor sleep deprived brain doesn't know when to stop the literary diarrhea. Maybe it is related to lack of adult interactions during the day? I'll spare you more painful minutiae for today. Thanks for all of your comments, I am reading and posting them when I can, and I appreciate everyone's advice!
It's been a trying week in Whoo-ville. Last Friday I was practically in tears I felt so horrible, but I had no idea why...until I spiked a temp. Then the vague aching in my left breast took on a more significant role than an after-effect of overaggressive pumping. I had the fantastic luck of getting a rip-roaring case of mastitis. Fortunately for me, I could call in my own antibiotics. Unfortunately, I got really sick really fast. At one point my temp was up to 104.7, and Mr. Whoo was on the brink of forcibly carting me to the ER (I'd really have to be dying to go to the ER!) I knew I was on the correct meds, but when I was on my 24th hour of spiking temps, I must admit I had visions of MRSA dancing in my head. I defervesced sometime between Saturday and Sunday, and I'm still taking antibiotics. The illness took a lot out of me, and I was feeling pretty wiped out until yesterday, when the next great thing happened, we lost power.
Big deal, right? The loss of power in our particular section of the neighborhood occurs approximately every 15 days, and is out for 8-10 hours at a time. The frustrating part is that it is only our street. The other houses in our neighborhood, including the street over never lose power, so this puts us low on the priority list to have power restored. The first winter snowstorm that we had when we moved in resulted in power loss for 3-4 *days*, forcing us to move ourselves and (our then 18 month old) CindyLou into a hotel. When your power is out this long, you are forced to throw hundreds of dollars of food away, and spend your nights either sweltering or freezing cold, oh, and no cooking because the stove is electric as well. Throw in a 3 year old and a newborn and 10 hours of power loss in the middle of the night is just not ideal. We sweat our way through the night, CindyLou came into our bed because her nightlight was out, and Bean wouldn't nurse in the total dark, so we had a flashlight sitting upright on the bedside table, which woke up CindyLou, Bean was too hot to sleep on me, but wouldn't sleep in his bed, either. Mr. Whoo and CindyLou eventually moved to her room and Bean and I stripped the covers from the bed and rested, albeit fitfully, throughout the night. The following morning, poor Mr. Whoo had to go to work. I kept CindyLou home with me, which may have been insane, now that I look back...no sleep and keeping and active toddler entertained all day? Not the wisest of moves.
My hat is off to all of you stay at home mothers out there, especially those with multiple children. It was exhausting trying to keep up with all of the demands of both children. At one point, CindyLou decided that she wanted corn for lunch. Once I was able to detach Bean from the breast long enough to fix her lunch, I complied (I thought) with her request, and opened a can of corn. Oh no, it was meltdown time! You see, she wanted corn in a *line* (ie. corn on the cob) not a bowl! By the time I had her calmed down and eating the much maligned bowl of corn, the Bean had audibly filled his diaper, then CindyLou needed to go to the potty, then Bean needed to eat...so on and so forth. Mr. Whoo came home to CindyLou planted firmly in front of her portable DVD player with a movie, the house in utter disarray, and me catatonic on the couch with Bean sleeping on my lap. Mother of the year, I am not. That day did cement in my mind that I do not have what it takes (patience, aplomb, creativity, a will of iron, etc.) to stay home with kids. I think they would be miserable and I would be certifiable. This is a small thing to hold onto as my re-entry into the work fray draws ever closer. *sigh* I have more to post on that at a later date.
I believe that I have rambled long enough for now, my poor sleep deprived brain doesn't know when to stop the literary diarrhea. Maybe it is related to lack of adult interactions during the day? I'll spare you more painful minutiae for today. Thanks for all of your comments, I am reading and posting them when I can, and I appreciate everyone's advice!
Thursday, August 09, 2007
3 Weeks Old and Searching for a Routine
Oh, who am I kidding? We definitely have a routine, it just isn't the most productive routine. My life is incredibly boring right now, a far cry from my usual life, so if you snooze easily you may want to skip this post. My days since all the company left have shaken out something like this:
7am - 8am CindyLou barges into the room, wakes me if I'm sleeping, ignores me if I'm not, and searches immediately for Mr. Whoo. Mr. Whoo and CindyLou get ready for work and school as per as normal routine as they can manage. (Yes, she is still in school, especially this week while I am adjusting to being alone with the Bean), we are trying to keep her life as normal as possible and not to break routine.) It goes without saying that sometime during this period we are nursing, changing diapers, etc.
8am-10am - Variably spent napping, nursing, and lazing about in bed with the Bean. We have mastered side-lying nursing, which I highly recommend for maximum sleep. When I'm not sleeping, I am composing the day's to-do list in my mind. You see, I *have* to be productive if I'm staying home.
10am-1pm - The Bean's usual morning "awake" period. I have managed to shower (once) during this time and at the very least am able to attend to some basic self-care like the brushing of teeth, changing of clothes, using the bathroom, and even, sometimes, eating! I can usually entertain the Bean with the bouncy seat or swing while I attend to basic personal needs, and sometimes I am even able to get some chores done. It is this time of day that I am usually contemplating on writing/typing out a to do list. It is day 4 of this not happening yet. Nursing happens toward the end of this time period to put the Bean into a "milk coma."
1pm- 3pm - The Bean is sleeping. I'm finding it very hard to put him down when he sleeps because he is oh so very snuggly and sweet. I usually will compromise and hold him for a bit before putting him down and working on the day's to-dos and, more likely, surfing the internet.
3pm-5pm - I eat my second lunch because I am hungry *all* of the time. This is probably why my weight loss has plateaued this week. Then there is dinner planning, chores, nursing, and napping (both Bean and myself). Did I mention that I am a rotten housewife?
5pm-8pm - Mr. Whoo and CindyLou come home. We have dinner, a little play time, CindyLou has her bath, if I haven't showered, I get a shower, and CindyLou goes to bed. Mr. Whoo gets some Bean time, and Bean sometimes will have a little fussy period at this time.
8pm- 11pm - It is nurse-a-thon time. The Bean is at the breast every hour, cluster feeding like crazy, drifting into light sleep, awaking and nursing again. Once he is sated, we both tend to pass out on the couch until Mr. Whoo rousts us up to go to bed.
11pm - 2am - My blissful, longest sleep period of the day.
2am - Nursing, diaper changing, dozing, watching Disco.very Health, TLC, Brav.o, and WE. I even saw my own OB on one of the "Special Delivery" shows on Discovery Health. Awesome.
4am- Nursing, diaper changing, dozing, watching only Disco.very Health or one of the news channels because all of the rest of the cable channels turn to infomercials after 3 am.
*Aside* Let me just say that DH and TLC need some more commercial sponsors, or at the very least, they need to run different commercials for the same shows. Some of their commercials are burned into my subconscious - The Last Days of Diana (where they have made some kind of dirge out of "Modern Love." Mightily depressing.) and Diagnosis X (where there is an equally depressing snippet of song playing over and over in my head.) I am also convinced that the lead singer from Cake is the vocalist for the Coc.oa Krispi.es "cereal straws" jingle. That's just *sad* y'all.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Why yes, I *am* slowly losing my mind, why do you ask? I am having a hard time putting the baby down to sleep 1) because he doesn't sleep very well on his back 2) he sleeps great on his tummy, but I can't sleep worrying about SIDS 3) the kiddo is a very noisy breather, squeaking, squawking, and snoring (I have made the totally non-professional diagnosis of laryngomalacia) making me think that he is awake when he is not, and 4) selfishness, he's only going to be this little and cuddly once. This results in me sitting semi-reclined in bed, propped up on pillows, with Bean sleeping on my chest.
Yes, I *know* this isn't the best arrangement. Actually, I slept with CindyLou this way for the first 6 weeks of her life due to her horrible reflux, but we slept out on the couch, not in the bed. I am attempting to get the Bean to sleep on his back during his daytime naps in preparation of trying to get him down at night. It's sad that I get better sleep with him on me than in his own bed.
I'm trying desperately not to think that my maternity leave is just about half over (sob!) because right now I'm just not ready to go back to that chaos. I am seriously considering cutting my schedule as much as I can and cutting back deliveries for a while until we adjust to the two child family. There is nothing I can do about the call, unfortunately. Also looming on the horizon is the Oral Boards. Argh. I don't even want to think about this. Thank you all for your congratulations and compliments on the Bean. You guys are the best, and I promise that I will get back to more witty, interesting posts as I become more witty and interesting. I am starting to think this is directly proportional to the amount of continuous sleep that I get. Back to the laundry for now....
7am - 8am CindyLou barges into the room, wakes me if I'm sleeping, ignores me if I'm not, and searches immediately for Mr. Whoo. Mr. Whoo and CindyLou get ready for work and school as per as normal routine as they can manage. (Yes, she is still in school, especially this week while I am adjusting to being alone with the Bean), we are trying to keep her life as normal as possible and not to break routine.) It goes without saying that sometime during this period we are nursing, changing diapers, etc.
8am-10am - Variably spent napping, nursing, and lazing about in bed with the Bean. We have mastered side-lying nursing, which I highly recommend for maximum sleep. When I'm not sleeping, I am composing the day's to-do list in my mind. You see, I *have* to be productive if I'm staying home.
10am-1pm - The Bean's usual morning "awake" period. I have managed to shower (once) during this time and at the very least am able to attend to some basic self-care like the brushing of teeth, changing of clothes, using the bathroom, and even, sometimes, eating! I can usually entertain the Bean with the bouncy seat or swing while I attend to basic personal needs, and sometimes I am even able to get some chores done. It is this time of day that I am usually contemplating on writing/typing out a to do list. It is day 4 of this not happening yet. Nursing happens toward the end of this time period to put the Bean into a "milk coma."
1pm- 3pm - The Bean is sleeping. I'm finding it very hard to put him down when he sleeps because he is oh so very snuggly and sweet. I usually will compromise and hold him for a bit before putting him down and working on the day's to-dos and, more likely, surfing the internet.
3pm-5pm - I eat my second lunch because I am hungry *all* of the time. This is probably why my weight loss has plateaued this week. Then there is dinner planning, chores, nursing, and napping (both Bean and myself). Did I mention that I am a rotten housewife?
5pm-8pm - Mr. Whoo and CindyLou come home. We have dinner, a little play time, CindyLou has her bath, if I haven't showered, I get a shower, and CindyLou goes to bed. Mr. Whoo gets some Bean time, and Bean sometimes will have a little fussy period at this time.
8pm- 11pm - It is nurse-a-thon time. The Bean is at the breast every hour, cluster feeding like crazy, drifting into light sleep, awaking and nursing again. Once he is sated, we both tend to pass out on the couch until Mr. Whoo rousts us up to go to bed.
11pm - 2am - My blissful, longest sleep period of the day.
2am - Nursing, diaper changing, dozing, watching Disco.very Health, TLC, Brav.o, and WE. I even saw my own OB on one of the "Special Delivery" shows on Discovery Health. Awesome.
4am- Nursing, diaper changing, dozing, watching only Disco.very Health or one of the news channels because all of the rest of the cable channels turn to infomercials after 3 am.
*Aside* Let me just say that DH and TLC need some more commercial sponsors, or at the very least, they need to run different commercials for the same shows. Some of their commercials are burned into my subconscious - The Last Days of Diana (where they have made some kind of dirge out of "Modern Love." Mightily depressing.) and Diagnosis X (where there is an equally depressing snippet of song playing over and over in my head.) I am also convinced that the lead singer from Cake is the vocalist for the Coc.oa Krispi.es "cereal straws" jingle. That's just *sad* y'all.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Why yes, I *am* slowly losing my mind, why do you ask? I am having a hard time putting the baby down to sleep 1) because he doesn't sleep very well on his back 2) he sleeps great on his tummy, but I can't sleep worrying about SIDS 3) the kiddo is a very noisy breather, squeaking, squawking, and snoring (I have made the totally non-professional diagnosis of laryngomalacia) making me think that he is awake when he is not, and 4) selfishness, he's only going to be this little and cuddly once. This results in me sitting semi-reclined in bed, propped up on pillows, with Bean sleeping on my chest.
Yes, I *know* this isn't the best arrangement. Actually, I slept with CindyLou this way for the first 6 weeks of her life due to her horrible reflux, but we slept out on the couch, not in the bed. I am attempting to get the Bean to sleep on his back during his daytime naps in preparation of trying to get him down at night. It's sad that I get better sleep with him on me than in his own bed.
I'm trying desperately not to think that my maternity leave is just about half over (sob!) because right now I'm just not ready to go back to that chaos. I am seriously considering cutting my schedule as much as I can and cutting back deliveries for a while until we adjust to the two child family. There is nothing I can do about the call, unfortunately. Also looming on the horizon is the Oral Boards. Argh. I don't even want to think about this. Thank you all for your congratulations and compliments on the Bean. You guys are the best, and I promise that I will get back to more witty, interesting posts as I become more witty and interesting. I am starting to think this is directly proportional to the amount of continuous sleep that I get. Back to the laundry for now....
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