Your comments on my previous post are all awesome, and I promise to respond to each of you in the comment section. I have decided to accept the gifts gracefully and to send out thank you notes to the patients at their homes. None of the gifts have been over the top, and I really do feel blessed that my patients want to celebrate this little bean with me. What's really funny is the patients asking me how *I'm* feeling. That takes a little getting used to, and I find myself getting all flustered and embarrassed. It made me realize what an interesting physician/patient dynamic there is with respect to disclosure. We want to know everything about our patients, medical problems to marital status to sexual history (and for good reason). Yet we disclose little, if any, personal info about ourselves in return; so much so that when patients ask how I am feeling or how the pregnancy is progressing, I feel uncomfortable speaking about myself on "their time." Does that make any sense? Anyway, I'm getting used to it, and it is kinda nice.
So far my Friday the 13th has progressed in standard crappy fashion, I started the morning off puking my guts up. I had been off of the Z0fran for a solid week and was feeling too cocky. Next I got to explain to the young girl in her early twenties (who was admitted to the hospital for unexplained ascites) that she has a pelvic mass, and, in all likelihood, has a large ovarian cancer. She has never been pregnant. She has never even had sex. Therefore, she had never seen an OB/GYN. Please go get pelvic exams, ladies, even if you aren't having sex. I can't help but wonder if the mass would have been caught so much earlier if she had only had an exam.
Then I saw a million and a half patients squeezed into a "half day" of appointments, not to mention a large wound infection (on a section that my partner did, thankyouverymuch) that I had to open, drain, and pack in the office. While the rest of the office staff breezed out of the office by 2pm, I caught up my charts and sifted through mountains of paperwork, FMLA papers, consult letters, and lab results. This weekend I am on call, and so I am fielding asinine phone calls from OtherDoc's patients wishing for me to phone them in narcotics (I won't) and diagnose anemia over the phone. Sigh.
In positive news, I am 25 weeks and 1 day. My last appointment my blood pressure was awesome at 124/80 (yay!) my weight was up for a total of 10 pounds for the pregnancy thus far (boo!) and everything is measuring right on target. The Bean is a mover and a shaker, and he particularly likes to party between 9-11 pm. In other big news, Miss CindyLou Whoo is all but done with diapers. She has been dry for almost 2 weeks solid now! Woo HOO! We still put her in a diaper at night (more as a failsafe than a necessity) but she only wears panties during the day. It is sad to be so excited, but we were hoping to get her good and out of diapers before the Bean makes his debut. So far, so good! I hope you all had a better Friday the 13th than I, and I also hope that you are having nicer weather wherever you are, it is too fragging cold and icky for APRIL 'round these parts! Have a fantastic weekend!
Friday, April 13, 2007
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Life Gets in the Way
Hello to the four of you still checking to see if I'm updating! I have had a busy, busy March, both professionally and personally. The week after my last post I had 9 deliveries, and this past week my mother has been visiting and spoiling me by caring for CindyLou, doing laundry, and cooking! I have also been doing a little catching up on blogs, and I've been concerned with all of the uproar regarding HIPAA and medical blogging physicians getting threatened with lawsuits. I was really leery for the last 2 weeks, because I saw that I was being frequented by an IP near to my location, but then I found out that it was just my husband checking up on me! Whew. I do want those that read here to know that details of the medical anecdotes are altered and the time frames are changed and finer points are obscured so that the similarity to the actual cases is nominal. The way that I feel about the cases and my reactions, however, are 100 percent accurate. At any rate, I'm taking a bit of a break from the professional this week.
On a more personal note, the pregnancy is clipping along very well. I am 23 and 3/7 weeks, so therefore in a state of perpetual anxiety with regards to viability. Of course 24 weeks is the "benchmark" by which the pregnancy has about a 50/50 chance of survival. Survival, that is, with significant intervention and the very real possibility of far reaching disability and devastating, lasting damage. Next to the first trimester, the weeks lasting from 24 to 32 weeks can be terribly nerve-wracking for those of us that know too much. I'm trying to keep those niggling thoughts at bay and focusing more on the Bean's ever increasing movements, punches, and kicks. I'm also noticing occasional Braxton-Hicks contractions, which, while I know it can be normal, freaks me out just a little bit.
For all I know, I may have had these in my first pregnancy, and was just unaware of what they actually were. They are not painful or frequent, so I'm chalking it up to mild over-exertion for now. I was working much harder with my last pregnancy, and I did have a pre-term contractions scare, necessitating meds and bed rest for a few weeks, so I'm hoping that I will not have a repeat performance in this pregnancy. On the bright side, my nausea is becoming less and less frequent. I don't have to take meds every day, and I only puked twice this week! Woo Hoo! I'm up a total of 6 pounds for the pregnancy, but I started out well ahead of the weight curve, so my goal weight gain is only 15 - 20 pounds. (Trust me, I have plenty of fat.) I dropped so much weight breastfeeding with CindyLou, but like a dummy, didn't keep it off after we weaned. Since this may be my last pregnancy, I vow to keep it off this time.
I have an etiquette question for you budding Emily Posts out there. What is the protocol for accepting gifts from patients? Now that I am no longer able to hide my growing pregnant belly behind bulky white coats and baggy scrubs, plus the fact that news travels fast in a small town, the word is out that I am expecting, and my sweet patients are responding by bringing in baby presents for me to their office visits. I'm truly touched by their kind gestures, but, by the same token, it makes me somewhat uncomfortable. I purchased Thank You cards this week, and I am planning on sending them to the patients' home address. Is this acceptable? I don't feel like the patients need to buy me presents, but I feel like I would insult them to decline their kindnesses. It's a sticky ethical situation, so if anyone has any insight, I would love to hear from you.
I hope you all have a wonderful April Fool's Day. I haven't had much success with April Fool's pranks, though Guinness Girl from Red Red Whine to this day holds the "gotcha" award for best April Fool's prank played on me. Today I plan to finally call one of my friends that still doesn't know that I am pregnant. I hope she doesn't think it is an April Fool's Joke! Thanks for reading and don't give up on me!
On a more personal note, the pregnancy is clipping along very well. I am 23 and 3/7 weeks, so therefore in a state of perpetual anxiety with regards to viability. Of course 24 weeks is the "benchmark" by which the pregnancy has about a 50/50 chance of survival. Survival, that is, with significant intervention and the very real possibility of far reaching disability and devastating, lasting damage. Next to the first trimester, the weeks lasting from 24 to 32 weeks can be terribly nerve-wracking for those of us that know too much. I'm trying to keep those niggling thoughts at bay and focusing more on the Bean's ever increasing movements, punches, and kicks. I'm also noticing occasional Braxton-Hicks contractions, which, while I know it can be normal, freaks me out just a little bit.
For all I know, I may have had these in my first pregnancy, and was just unaware of what they actually were. They are not painful or frequent, so I'm chalking it up to mild over-exertion for now. I was working much harder with my last pregnancy, and I did have a pre-term contractions scare, necessitating meds and bed rest for a few weeks, so I'm hoping that I will not have a repeat performance in this pregnancy. On the bright side, my nausea is becoming less and less frequent. I don't have to take meds every day, and I only puked twice this week! Woo Hoo! I'm up a total of 6 pounds for the pregnancy, but I started out well ahead of the weight curve, so my goal weight gain is only 15 - 20 pounds. (Trust me, I have plenty of fat.) I dropped so much weight breastfeeding with CindyLou, but like a dummy, didn't keep it off after we weaned. Since this may be my last pregnancy, I vow to keep it off this time.
I have an etiquette question for you budding Emily Posts out there. What is the protocol for accepting gifts from patients? Now that I am no longer able to hide my growing pregnant belly behind bulky white coats and baggy scrubs, plus the fact that news travels fast in a small town, the word is out that I am expecting, and my sweet patients are responding by bringing in baby presents for me to their office visits. I'm truly touched by their kind gestures, but, by the same token, it makes me somewhat uncomfortable. I purchased Thank You cards this week, and I am planning on sending them to the patients' home address. Is this acceptable? I don't feel like the patients need to buy me presents, but I feel like I would insult them to decline their kindnesses. It's a sticky ethical situation, so if anyone has any insight, I would love to hear from you.
I hope you all have a wonderful April Fool's Day. I haven't had much success with April Fool's pranks, though Guinness Girl from Red Red Whine to this day holds the "gotcha" award for best April Fool's prank played on me. Today I plan to finally call one of my friends that still doesn't know that I am pregnant. I hope she doesn't think it is an April Fool's Joke! Thanks for reading and don't give up on me!
Sunday, March 11, 2007
I'm Still Here
It has been a very wild two weeks, and in keeping true to fashion, I've been slacking on all that is not essential to day to day survival. Unfortunately, blogging is one such thing, though I do find myself half-composing posts in my few stolen minutes between home and hospital quite often. Believe it or not, last weekend we actually tackled several tasks on the dreaded to-do list. In the last two weeks, I also had another birthday. Yet another reminder of how ancient I am becoming.
As I have mentioned before, I feel like my mind is stuck somewhere in 1998/1999 (not coincidentally, this is circa the early medical school years for me, when I ceased to be a person and started to become a bot). I am now finding myself emerging from my "bot haze" with most of my faculties intact, save this faulty sense of time. It is still jarring for me to realize that the time with which I most identify was 8 years ago! I suppose I could allow myself to be really bitter that the better part of my 20s (supposedly the greatest years of a young life) were spent slaving in med school and residency, but I also know that I wouldn't be reaping the benefits of that hard work a little earlier in life. All of that aside, I know that I am still relatively young and hopefully I have a lot more life in front of me, so I am trying to bring myself into the now. At any rate, I had a really nice birthday, very low key, as birthdays tend to get when you get older.
I had a really scary delivery recently. The kind that makes you feel completely helpless, even though you have done everything "right." The labor was quite innocuous, actually, which can lull you into a false sense of security. She was a primiparous patient, just a few days over forty weeks, and she came into the hospital in the early morning hours in early labor and progressed, more or less, on an unremarkable labor curve throughout the day. I was very pleased when she came in laboring, as she had an induction set for 41 weeks, and I much prefer patients to labor on their own, if possible. One notable characteristic of this young mother is that she is pretty terrible with any kind of discomfort...She just doesn't "do" pain very well. Any time I had to check her cervix in the office (even for the GBS swab) she would clench and scream. Needless to say, she got her epidural early during the course of labor, and was generally happy until it came time to push.
Right about the time that she had been pushing for about 30 minutes, her epidural began to wear off. Her labor nurse came out to the nurses' station and told me that the patient was having a full blown panic attack and refusing to push. When I entered the labor room, the patient's fear was palpable. She was completely out of control, clawing at the nurse, punching her husband, and kicking her legs and feet. She reminded me of a frightened, trapped wild animal. It was a sight to behold. The baby's head was at +2 station, and while the fetal heart tracing was still reassuring (as it had been throughout labor) the baseline had started to creep from the 130s into the 150s. I tried to calm the patient enough to try an operative delivery, but the patient would have none of it. She refused and demanded a section. She kept screaming, "There's too much pain. Something is wrong! I can't do this." After a few minutes of trying to reason with an irrational person, I left the room to call the OR for an urgent section, fuming the whole way. As the nurse began to prep the patient, I guess that the primal urge to push outweighed irrational fear, and by the time I returned to the labor room with the consent for the section the baby was crowning. The patient was no less panicked, but now she was pushing in earnest. The baby was delivered in three pushes, it had a triple nuchal cord, and was as white as a ghost. I had never seen a live baby that white before, and for that split second, I thought the baby was dead.
Then *I* began to panic. Oh my lord, she was right! There *was* something wrong, and despite the reassuring tracing, the baby was in trouble. I milked and clamped the cord and stimulated the baby, and thank God, she opened her eyes. I handed her off to the nurse, and after the longest minute of my life and a little blow-by 02, she began to squall. She remained white as a sheet, and rather floppy, but she was breathing well and her heart rate remained normal. My mind raced through the possibilities...an occult abruption? There was very little bleeding, and once the placenta was delivered, there was no more than a 5% marginal separation of the placenta, certainly not enough to constitute significant fetal blood loss. Uterine rupture? Mom's vital signs had remained normal throughout, and an inspection of her uterus revealed it to be intact. The baby's blood counts were normal, and though she had signs of volume depletion (decreased blood pressure, mild tachycardia) and received IV fluids overnight, there never was a satisfactory answer for her distress at delivery. She was able to go home with her parents on her second day of life, pink and sassy.
An interesting aside, as related to me by the baby's father's family, was that he (the baby's father) was born at full term, white and not breathing, and he had to be intubated for his first few days of life. There was never an adequate explanation for his distress, either. Needless to say, I earned a few gray hairs over this (possibly familial?) trait, and it served to make me even more aware how very unpredictable this field can be, and how close we come to the brink of tragedy for either mom or baby with every single delivery. Truly humbling as a physician, and frightening as a pregnant mother.
(Bah, CindyLou unplugged the computer immediately before I completed the post, so I had to go back and write it all over again. I feel like the truncated version somehow loses it's punch, but it's the best that I can do. Ah, well.)
As I have mentioned before, I feel like my mind is stuck somewhere in 1998/1999 (not coincidentally, this is circa the early medical school years for me, when I ceased to be a person and started to become a bot). I am now finding myself emerging from my "bot haze" with most of my faculties intact, save this faulty sense of time. It is still jarring for me to realize that the time with which I most identify was 8 years ago! I suppose I could allow myself to be really bitter that the better part of my 20s (supposedly the greatest years of a young life) were spent slaving in med school and residency, but I also know that I wouldn't be reaping the benefits of that hard work a little earlier in life. All of that aside, I know that I am still relatively young and hopefully I have a lot more life in front of me, so I am trying to bring myself into the now. At any rate, I had a really nice birthday, very low key, as birthdays tend to get when you get older.
I had a really scary delivery recently. The kind that makes you feel completely helpless, even though you have done everything "right." The labor was quite innocuous, actually, which can lull you into a false sense of security. She was a primiparous patient, just a few days over forty weeks, and she came into the hospital in the early morning hours in early labor and progressed, more or less, on an unremarkable labor curve throughout the day. I was very pleased when she came in laboring, as she had an induction set for 41 weeks, and I much prefer patients to labor on their own, if possible. One notable characteristic of this young mother is that she is pretty terrible with any kind of discomfort...She just doesn't "do" pain very well. Any time I had to check her cervix in the office (even for the GBS swab) she would clench and scream. Needless to say, she got her epidural early during the course of labor, and was generally happy until it came time to push.
Right about the time that she had been pushing for about 30 minutes, her epidural began to wear off. Her labor nurse came out to the nurses' station and told me that the patient was having a full blown panic attack and refusing to push. When I entered the labor room, the patient's fear was palpable. She was completely out of control, clawing at the nurse, punching her husband, and kicking her legs and feet. She reminded me of a frightened, trapped wild animal. It was a sight to behold. The baby's head was at +2 station, and while the fetal heart tracing was still reassuring (as it had been throughout labor) the baseline had started to creep from the 130s into the 150s. I tried to calm the patient enough to try an operative delivery, but the patient would have none of it. She refused and demanded a section. She kept screaming, "There's too much pain. Something is wrong! I can't do this." After a few minutes of trying to reason with an irrational person, I left the room to call the OR for an urgent section, fuming the whole way. As the nurse began to prep the patient, I guess that the primal urge to push outweighed irrational fear, and by the time I returned to the labor room with the consent for the section the baby was crowning. The patient was no less panicked, but now she was pushing in earnest. The baby was delivered in three pushes, it had a triple nuchal cord, and was as white as a ghost. I had never seen a live baby that white before, and for that split second, I thought the baby was dead.
Then *I* began to panic. Oh my lord, she was right! There *was* something wrong, and despite the reassuring tracing, the baby was in trouble. I milked and clamped the cord and stimulated the baby, and thank God, she opened her eyes. I handed her off to the nurse, and after the longest minute of my life and a little blow-by 02, she began to squall. She remained white as a sheet, and rather floppy, but she was breathing well and her heart rate remained normal. My mind raced through the possibilities...an occult abruption? There was very little bleeding, and once the placenta was delivered, there was no more than a 5% marginal separation of the placenta, certainly not enough to constitute significant fetal blood loss. Uterine rupture? Mom's vital signs had remained normal throughout, and an inspection of her uterus revealed it to be intact. The baby's blood counts were normal, and though she had signs of volume depletion (decreased blood pressure, mild tachycardia) and received IV fluids overnight, there never was a satisfactory answer for her distress at delivery. She was able to go home with her parents on her second day of life, pink and sassy.
An interesting aside, as related to me by the baby's father's family, was that he (the baby's father) was born at full term, white and not breathing, and he had to be intubated for his first few days of life. There was never an adequate explanation for his distress, either. Needless to say, I earned a few gray hairs over this (possibly familial?) trait, and it served to make me even more aware how very unpredictable this field can be, and how close we come to the brink of tragedy for either mom or baby with every single delivery. Truly humbling as a physician, and frightening as a pregnant mother.
(Bah, CindyLou unplugged the computer immediately before I completed the post, so I had to go back and write it all over again. I feel like the truncated version somehow loses it's punch, but it's the best that I can do. Ah, well.)
Saturday, February 24, 2007
It's a Beautiful Day
It is bright and blue and sunshiny outside, and it looks like Spring, but still feels like winter. I find yet another week of perpetual motion stopped dead upon the couch in sheer exhaustion. Life is just *flying* by me these days. I guess this is true for everyone. I'm on call this weekend, fielding call after call from OtherDoc's patients seeking pain meds. I'm not quite sure what to make of the sheer volume and clumsiness of the requests that I get the weekends that I am on call for him. I'd like to think that his patients are just testing the waters to see if the little naive covering doc will buy in to their tales of woe long enough to get a few pills here or there, but I'm more than a little concerned that he is a candyman kind of doctor. This bothers me on more levels than I can enumerate. Regardless, my answer is patent, "I'm sorry, but I will not call in narcotic pain medications to patients that I have not seen and examined. I'd be happy to call in Naprox.en until you are able to be seen in the office." Funny, but I don't get any takers on the offer for non-narcotic meds. Ah, well.
So it is the season of Lent. A relatively new concept for me, as I was not raised in a particularly religious household, is the "giving up" something for Lent. Mr. Whoo was raised in a fairly observant Catholic family (no meat on Fridays, the whole nine yards) so Lent is the norm for him. We do not attend a Catholic church, but our church does observe the Lenten season, so this is my first official foray. We have decided to give up watching television on weekday nights. *gasp* Shocking, I know, especially for this TV-phile, but the logic behind it is that we spend too much time on weekday nights vegging in front of the TV instead of doing productive things like laundry, cleaning, talking, or projects. We have also been going to bed way too late, simply because we are watching certain shows. It is not the shows, themselves, that we are giving up (because, come on, that *would* be crazy) but rather the time we waste on TV. All of the shows are being safely Tivo'd for consumption on the weekends, so I'm not missing out on Lost, American Idol, Grey's Anatomy, The Office, or anything else that I want to watch. I'm just a little delayed in catching up. Now, we started this on Wednesday (most difficult) and only had to do it for two days before being able to watch the shows, so we will see how it will go during a full week. I think it is going to be a good thing. We are doing things we need to get done, and going to bed earlier, which my body appreciates.
This week was a relatively quiet week for deliveries. I did have a primiparous patient that came in for a post-dates (41+) and LGA induction that received Cervidi.l at midnight that had a 9 pound baby boy a mere six hours later. That was pretty wild, but I was really happy for her that her super-long pregnancy culminated in a super-fast delivery. Hmmm, what else happened of note this week? Oh yes, we did find a little something out about the bean. It looks like we are going to have a little....
BOY!
Color me surprised! I guess I didn't realize how much I had been psyching myself up for another girl until the tech put the unmistakable evidence on the monitor. It was interesting because the tech did not know that I was a physician, and she was really great about explaining all of the anatomy that she was documenting. I just kept mum, because Mr. Whoo didn't really know what he was seeing, and it was nice to be treated just like another pregnant person. I was particularly happy because the anatomy looked spot-on perfect. The tech kept commenting about how "beautiful" the baby's anatomy was, which was pretty darn cool. Also funny was a shot of our son-to-be reaching down towards his nether regions during the scan. Ha. Definitely all boy. I'm still trying to register that we are going to have a son. It was just so much easier to picture us parenting a girl, since that is all that we know. All that matters is that the baby looks healthy and happy, and that is all that we would ever want. Now I have to come up with a clever name for the bean that goes with Whoo. Any suggestions?
So it is the season of Lent. A relatively new concept for me, as I was not raised in a particularly religious household, is the "giving up" something for Lent. Mr. Whoo was raised in a fairly observant Catholic family (no meat on Fridays, the whole nine yards) so Lent is the norm for him. We do not attend a Catholic church, but our church does observe the Lenten season, so this is my first official foray. We have decided to give up watching television on weekday nights. *gasp* Shocking, I know, especially for this TV-phile, but the logic behind it is that we spend too much time on weekday nights vegging in front of the TV instead of doing productive things like laundry, cleaning, talking, or projects. We have also been going to bed way too late, simply because we are watching certain shows. It is not the shows, themselves, that we are giving up (because, come on, that *would* be crazy) but rather the time we waste on TV. All of the shows are being safely Tivo'd for consumption on the weekends, so I'm not missing out on Lost, American Idol, Grey's Anatomy, The Office, or anything else that I want to watch. I'm just a little delayed in catching up. Now, we started this on Wednesday (most difficult) and only had to do it for two days before being able to watch the shows, so we will see how it will go during a full week. I think it is going to be a good thing. We are doing things we need to get done, and going to bed earlier, which my body appreciates.
This week was a relatively quiet week for deliveries. I did have a primiparous patient that came in for a post-dates (41+) and LGA induction that received Cervidi.l at midnight that had a 9 pound baby boy a mere six hours later. That was pretty wild, but I was really happy for her that her super-long pregnancy culminated in a super-fast delivery. Hmmm, what else happened of note this week? Oh yes, we did find a little something out about the bean. It looks like we are going to have a little....
BOY!
Color me surprised! I guess I didn't realize how much I had been psyching myself up for another girl until the tech put the unmistakable evidence on the monitor. It was interesting because the tech did not know that I was a physician, and she was really great about explaining all of the anatomy that she was documenting. I just kept mum, because Mr. Whoo didn't really know what he was seeing, and it was nice to be treated just like another pregnant person. I was particularly happy because the anatomy looked spot-on perfect. The tech kept commenting about how "beautiful" the baby's anatomy was, which was pretty darn cool. Also funny was a shot of our son-to-be reaching down towards his nether regions during the scan. Ha. Definitely all boy. I'm still trying to register that we are going to have a son. It was just so much easier to picture us parenting a girl, since that is all that we know. All that matters is that the baby looks healthy and happy, and that is all that we would ever want. Now I have to come up with a clever name for the bean that goes with Whoo. Any suggestions?
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Weepy and Lazy
That pretty much sums up the mood for the weekend. To say that I am uninspired would be an understatement. I have a to-do list half a mile long, and all I want to do is laze about on the couch, watch all of my TiFauxed shows, read Television Without Pity, blogs, and watch the snow fall outside. Is that so wrong? I did deliver 9 babies this week, gestated one of my own, and spent my Valentine's day in the hospital (taking care of patients). Never mind that I desperately need to go through eighteen stacks of unread magazines, junk mail, and medical journals. Never mind that I cannot see the floor over half of my bedroom. Disregard the fact that, while it is clean (thanks to Mr. Whoo), the laundry is unfolded in multiple different baskets from which we have been fishing all week long. I don't wanna work, I want to play online all day.
Emotionally, I know the pregnancy hormones are starting to permeate the brain, because I can't watch a damn thing without becoming a boo-hooing, snotty, sobbing mess. Second to last episode of The O.C. ? (shut up, I know) Bawled like a baby. Grey's Anatomy? Blubber city (and I don't even particularly like Meredith). We even watched the Adam Sandler movie, Click, and I couldn't stop shudder-sighing for 10 minutes straight. Add that to the requisite crying in church, and I'm the queen of emotionality. I am becoming my mother. I am very afraid.
CindyLou has been ever the source of comic relief, however. This week she has told her class at daycare all week long that I have no less than 3 babies in my belly at this given moment (I know it is getting big, but 3???) Another gem, we were driving past the mall and she asked to go shopping. I remarked "You are quite the shopper, aren't you?" To which she knitted her eyebrows fiercely and stated in her most indignant tone, "No I'm not a shopper, I'm CindyLou Whoo!" She also sings Guster's "Careful" at the top of her lungs, and singsongs "CindyLou is cuuuute!" Well, she is cute, and I guess we tell her that a lot. She is so much fun (when she isn't being defiant), and I love listening to the way her mind works. We are truly blessed as a family, and, well, there go the tears again.
I have been lurking on blogs, but not commenting, because then you would know that I am not too lazy to read other people's blogs, just too lazy to write my own. I've been a little frightened of the keywords by which my site is being searched. If you want to be a voyeur (see hidden videos, etc.) in an OB/GYN office you have serious issues. Yuck. Get some help, please. For the record, oh person that searches "snow tubing while pregnant" every living weekend, in general, gentle sloping tube runs should be safe enough in your first trimester, after that the uterus is no longer protected by the bony pelvis, and you may risk injuring the baby if you have a fall or direct impact to your belly. I truly hope this helps. Well, now it is time to snuggle with the cats and check the snow report for tomorrow. CindyLou and Mr. Whoo have President's Day off, but I, alas, do not. My only hope is for it to snow so much that the patients do not wish to risk driving to the office. Hey, a girl can dream, can't she? Have a great week!
Emotionally, I know the pregnancy hormones are starting to permeate the brain, because I can't watch a damn thing without becoming a boo-hooing, snotty, sobbing mess. Second to last episode of The O.C. ? (shut up, I know) Bawled like a baby. Grey's Anatomy? Blubber city (and I don't even particularly like Meredith). We even watched the Adam Sandler movie, Click, and I couldn't stop shudder-sighing for 10 minutes straight. Add that to the requisite crying in church, and I'm the queen of emotionality. I am becoming my mother. I am very afraid.
CindyLou has been ever the source of comic relief, however. This week she has told her class at daycare all week long that I have no less than 3 babies in my belly at this given moment (I know it is getting big, but 3???) Another gem, we were driving past the mall and she asked to go shopping. I remarked "You are quite the shopper, aren't you?" To which she knitted her eyebrows fiercely and stated in her most indignant tone, "No I'm not a shopper, I'm CindyLou Whoo!" She also sings Guster's "Careful" at the top of her lungs, and singsongs "CindyLou is cuuuute!" Well, she is cute, and I guess we tell her that a lot. She is so much fun (when she isn't being defiant), and I love listening to the way her mind works. We are truly blessed as a family, and, well, there go the tears again.
I have been lurking on blogs, but not commenting, because then you would know that I am not too lazy to read other people's blogs, just too lazy to write my own. I've been a little frightened of the keywords by which my site is being searched. If you want to be a voyeur (see hidden videos, etc.) in an OB/GYN office you have serious issues. Yuck. Get some help, please. For the record, oh person that searches "snow tubing while pregnant" every living weekend, in general, gentle sloping tube runs should be safe enough in your first trimester, after that the uterus is no longer protected by the bony pelvis, and you may risk injuring the baby if you have a fall or direct impact to your belly. I truly hope this helps. Well, now it is time to snuggle with the cats and check the snow report for tomorrow. CindyLou and Mr. Whoo have President's Day off, but I, alas, do not. My only hope is for it to snow so much that the patients do not wish to risk driving to the office. Hey, a girl can dream, can't she? Have a great week!
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Reasons Why I Suck and Clinic Gems
So yes, I suck. I suck at keeping my blog updated, I suck at keeping in touch with my friends, I suck at keeping on top of paperwork, and I suck at keeping my house clean. I feel like I have been trying to play "catch-up" for the whole month of February, and the month is nearly half-over! I just feel like I am sprinting to stay in place. Over the last week I have updated my delinquent dictations, caught up the majority of my clinic charts, did a few surgeries, delivered a handful of babies, sat on my couch, and slept (I mean, I even fell asleep during LOST this week). What I have *not* done is talk on the phone to friends with whom I haven't spoken in ages (these people don't even know I am pregnant yet!), clean my house, do laundry, blog, get my hair cut and highlighted (it is getting ugly, people), given Mr. Whoo his wedding anniversary present (our anniversary was at the end of January), put CindyLou's baby pictures in albums, bought valentines for CindyLou's class party, and a half a million other things on my ever-growing to-do list. Mr. Whoo has been picking up the slack as best he can, but I know he must be growing weary of his slovenly wife.
I was hoping to really kick into high gear this weekend, but I have been on call, so I was at the hospital until almost 2 am on Saturday morning doing a delivery. I slept in until 10, went in for rounds, and then my whole Saturday from noon until midnight was spent at the hospital watching over one of OtherDoc's VBACs. It is hospital policy that the physician be on site the entire time a VBAC is laboring (with good reason, of course). I am always up for a good VBAC, and the patient seemed like a good candidate with a few vaginal deliveries, then one emergency section for fetal distress. The frustrating part is that the patient got to completely dilated, pushed twice, and then simply refused to push anymore and demanded another section (a mere 8 hours after she had been offered an elective repeat C-section in the first place!) The baby was low, but not quite low enough to put on forceps or a vacuum, so off to the OR we went. Since the baby was so low in the pelvis at the time of C-section and the lower uterine segment was paper thin, the uterine incision extended into the broad ligament on both sides, causing lots of bleeding and venous oozing, and the bladder was pretty traumatized as well. To add fun to the surgery, the patient seemed to be feeling everything we did to the uterus, despite anesthesia's best efforts, refused to be put to sleep, and instead kept a running commentary throughout the entire surgery about her discomfort (despite a truckload of fenta.nyl and verse.d). Her urine was blood-tinged prior to and immediately after the surgery, and I checked the bladder integrity prior to finishing, but I'm still fretting over an occult injury this morning. Sigh. I'm keeping her Foley in until her urine starts to clear and keeping my fingers crossed.
I also had a few notable moments in clinic this week. The grossest of which involved one of my young, teenaged OB patients. We had done her GBS swab and checked her (closed) cervix because she was complaining of irregular contractions. Her blood pressure had been slightly elevated on our automatic cuff, so, as per routine, we had her relax on her left side, and planned to return to take a manual blood pressure. When my nurse returned to re-check her pressure, she and her boyfriend were *having sex* in the exam room on one of the chairs! Squick! My nurse kicked the boyfriend out, pulling up his pants as he went. Needless to say, the patient's blood pressure was even *higher* on re-check. The real kicker is that we sent her with orders for labs and a 24 hour urine to check for protein, and her mother (a nurse) called, concerned about whether we should pull her daughter from school since her blood pressure was climbing. I couldn't tell her mother that I expected the elevated pressure was more due to the girl being all hot and bothered in my office than to pre-ecclampsia! At any rate, the last thing she needs is to be out of school so that she can fool around more. SuperNurse swabbed the whole room down (including the chair) with alcohol, and closed that room to patients for the rest of the afternoon. What is wrong with people?!
Honorable mention clinic moments include the school teacher that complained that she had to work on Thursday and Friday (essentially a two day week) after the schools had been closed due to weather issues on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. "They should have just given us the whole week off!" she whined. I teased her and told her we should switch jobs. She then said, "Oh I would much rather do what *you* do!" Hm, so you are complaining about *having* to work a two day week, and you want to trade time off for bad weather (not to mention summers, holidays, and weekends off) for being on-call 24 hours a day, up to 14 days in a row? Call me crazy, but I think not. The other came from a patient on whom I am planning a tubal ligation. She wanted to be certain that her fiance was not told that she was having her tubes tied. Of course, it is none of his business what she does with her body, or how she chooses to practice contraception, but it seems like a suspect way to enter into a marriage. It is a sticky ethical situation, and while I know the proper thing to do with respect to the patient's right to privacy, I still can't help but feel odd about the situation.
So anyway, there is your latest installment of whining and moaning. Don't you feel better? I know I do. On the bean front, I am 16 weeks and 2 days, and I just had my Quad screen drawn this week. I'm still puking most mornings, and still taking Z.ofran every day. I think I may have felt movement this week a few times, but I am not certain. We find out in a couple of weeks what we are having. I'm still not sure what I think. I can't imagine not having another girl, but everyone else around me seems to be getting the "boy vibe." We shall see. Thank you guys for coming back to check on me, I will try to be better about updating the blog. I really do enjoy it when I get the chance. Have a great week!
I was hoping to really kick into high gear this weekend, but I have been on call, so I was at the hospital until almost 2 am on Saturday morning doing a delivery. I slept in until 10, went in for rounds, and then my whole Saturday from noon until midnight was spent at the hospital watching over one of OtherDoc's VBACs. It is hospital policy that the physician be on site the entire time a VBAC is laboring (with good reason, of course). I am always up for a good VBAC, and the patient seemed like a good candidate with a few vaginal deliveries, then one emergency section for fetal distress. The frustrating part is that the patient got to completely dilated, pushed twice, and then simply refused to push anymore and demanded another section (a mere 8 hours after she had been offered an elective repeat C-section in the first place!) The baby was low, but not quite low enough to put on forceps or a vacuum, so off to the OR we went. Since the baby was so low in the pelvis at the time of C-section and the lower uterine segment was paper thin, the uterine incision extended into the broad ligament on both sides, causing lots of bleeding and venous oozing, and the bladder was pretty traumatized as well. To add fun to the surgery, the patient seemed to be feeling everything we did to the uterus, despite anesthesia's best efforts, refused to be put to sleep, and instead kept a running commentary throughout the entire surgery about her discomfort (despite a truckload of fenta.nyl and verse.d). Her urine was blood-tinged prior to and immediately after the surgery, and I checked the bladder integrity prior to finishing, but I'm still fretting over an occult injury this morning. Sigh. I'm keeping her Foley in until her urine starts to clear and keeping my fingers crossed.
I also had a few notable moments in clinic this week. The grossest of which involved one of my young, teenaged OB patients. We had done her GBS swab and checked her (closed) cervix because she was complaining of irregular contractions. Her blood pressure had been slightly elevated on our automatic cuff, so, as per routine, we had her relax on her left side, and planned to return to take a manual blood pressure. When my nurse returned to re-check her pressure, she and her boyfriend were *having sex* in the exam room on one of the chairs! Squick! My nurse kicked the boyfriend out, pulling up his pants as he went. Needless to say, the patient's blood pressure was even *higher* on re-check. The real kicker is that we sent her with orders for labs and a 24 hour urine to check for protein, and her mother (a nurse) called, concerned about whether we should pull her daughter from school since her blood pressure was climbing. I couldn't tell her mother that I expected the elevated pressure was more due to the girl being all hot and bothered in my office than to pre-ecclampsia! At any rate, the last thing she needs is to be out of school so that she can fool around more. SuperNurse swabbed the whole room down (including the chair) with alcohol, and closed that room to patients for the rest of the afternoon. What is wrong with people?!
Honorable mention clinic moments include the school teacher that complained that she had to work on Thursday and Friday (essentially a two day week) after the schools had been closed due to weather issues on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. "They should have just given us the whole week off!" she whined. I teased her and told her we should switch jobs. She then said, "Oh I would much rather do what *you* do!" Hm, so you are complaining about *having* to work a two day week, and you want to trade time off for bad weather (not to mention summers, holidays, and weekends off) for being on-call 24 hours a day, up to 14 days in a row? Call me crazy, but I think not. The other came from a patient on whom I am planning a tubal ligation. She wanted to be certain that her fiance was not told that she was having her tubes tied. Of course, it is none of his business what she does with her body, or how she chooses to practice contraception, but it seems like a suspect way to enter into a marriage. It is a sticky ethical situation, and while I know the proper thing to do with respect to the patient's right to privacy, I still can't help but feel odd about the situation.
So anyway, there is your latest installment of whining and moaning. Don't you feel better? I know I do. On the bean front, I am 16 weeks and 2 days, and I just had my Quad screen drawn this week. I'm still puking most mornings, and still taking Z.ofran every day. I think I may have felt movement this week a few times, but I am not certain. We find out in a couple of weeks what we are having. I'm still not sure what I think. I can't imagine not having another girl, but everyone else around me seems to be getting the "boy vibe." We shall see. Thank you guys for coming back to check on me, I will try to be better about updating the blog. I really do enjoy it when I get the chance. Have a great week!
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Just Another Day in Paradise
I awoke at 4am (thank you, pregnant bladder) this morning from a somewhat disturbing dream of being trapped within the body of steel bleachers with a feeling of dread. Today is my surgery day, and I had a few big cases lined up. I chalked the portent of doom up to normal pre-surgery jitters. I should have listened to my gut. Shortly after arriving to the hospital, I started rounding on patients, one of whom was a patient that I believed was more of a "social admit." The patient was a 37 week pregnant woman that had presented the night before complaining of contractions. The triage nurse insisted that she had changed her cervix from 1 cm to 1 cm with "a little wiggle room." Since she lived rather far from the hospital and was to be a repeat C-section for delivery, I griped a little (good-naturedly, of course) that the nurse was killing me, but admitted her overnight for observation. Well, chalk up another for the nurse and her keen instinct, because the patient broke her water about 5 minutes prior to my arrival on the floor.
At first, she was only 2-3 cm dilated, so preparations were made for an ASAP C-section, and I went down to start my portion of a pelvic reconstruction surgery that I had co-ordinated with one of the urologists. He was still placing a sling, which was fortunate because I got a stat page that the nurse thought the C-section patient may be fully dilated! I broke scrub, ran upstairs, and checked to find the patient was about 7-8 cm. I spoke with the patient briefly about proceeding with a VBAC, to which she responded as though I had asked her to voluntarily cut off a limb. So, instead I ran back to the OR, asked them to prep for a stat section, and peeked into the room where the urologist was still working and asked him if he could stay busy for another 20 minutes so that I could deliver the baby. He happily agreed, and I bounced to the next OR and did a quick 20 minute skin-to-skin repeat C-section with tubal ligation with the scrub tech.
It was all of 9 am when I had re-scrubbed for the pelvic reconstruction case, and I was pretty much on an adrenaline rush for the remainder of the surgery. Luckily, this case went very smoothly (pelvic reconstruction is not one of my more favorite surgeries to do). After this case, I went to do a quick consult and pelvic on a young, uncooperative teenage girl, and back to the OB floor to complete rounds, check NSTs, and finish discharges. I had a minute to grab a bottle of water and half of a sandwich and it was time for the OR once again.
Next was a hysterectomy, and, unfortunately for me, I did not have another doc to first assist. While I am perfectly capable of doing the surgery on my own with a tech, it just goes so much more smoothly and quickly with two pairs of hands and eyes. I got into some pretty brisk bleeding on the right pelvic sidewall and got a little closer to the ureter than I liked, so back the urologist came to check out the plumbing. I just really have a phobia about occult bladder and ureter injury during hysterectomy. I saw a few in residency that had to go back to the OR after the defects were discovered in the post-operative period...it is just not pretty, and I get super paranoid about these things. I felt badly for bothering the urologist, but he assured me that he would rather have 30 intraoperative consults at the time of an original surgery than having to go back in days after the event. Fortunately, everything checked out ok, and while the patient lost a little more blood than I would have liked, she did very well throughout the surgery.
Then, it was back upstairs to review more NSTs and an ultrasound on one of my mild pre-ecclampsia patients (who also is a gestational diabetic). The doppler flow was worsening, as was her 24 hour urine protein level, so we made the decision for induction. Orders were written, post-op patients were checked, and my remaining surgeries proceeded without incident. I picked up CindyLou from daycare, we came home, ate dinner, she had a bath, a tantrum, and a bedtime story. Now she is tucked up in bed, I am tucked in on the couch (as yet unshowered, with a splitting headache, I might add) and I am praying for no more laboring patients tonight. Ah, just another lovely day in paradise. Isn't medicine fun and glamorous? Ha.
At first, she was only 2-3 cm dilated, so preparations were made for an ASAP C-section, and I went down to start my portion of a pelvic reconstruction surgery that I had co-ordinated with one of the urologists. He was still placing a sling, which was fortunate because I got a stat page that the nurse thought the C-section patient may be fully dilated! I broke scrub, ran upstairs, and checked to find the patient was about 7-8 cm. I spoke with the patient briefly about proceeding with a VBAC, to which she responded as though I had asked her to voluntarily cut off a limb. So, instead I ran back to the OR, asked them to prep for a stat section, and peeked into the room where the urologist was still working and asked him if he could stay busy for another 20 minutes so that I could deliver the baby. He happily agreed, and I bounced to the next OR and did a quick 20 minute skin-to-skin repeat C-section with tubal ligation with the scrub tech.
It was all of 9 am when I had re-scrubbed for the pelvic reconstruction case, and I was pretty much on an adrenaline rush for the remainder of the surgery. Luckily, this case went very smoothly (pelvic reconstruction is not one of my more favorite surgeries to do). After this case, I went to do a quick consult and pelvic on a young, uncooperative teenage girl, and back to the OB floor to complete rounds, check NSTs, and finish discharges. I had a minute to grab a bottle of water and half of a sandwich and it was time for the OR once again.
Next was a hysterectomy, and, unfortunately for me, I did not have another doc to first assist. While I am perfectly capable of doing the surgery on my own with a tech, it just goes so much more smoothly and quickly with two pairs of hands and eyes. I got into some pretty brisk bleeding on the right pelvic sidewall and got a little closer to the ureter than I liked, so back the urologist came to check out the plumbing. I just really have a phobia about occult bladder and ureter injury during hysterectomy. I saw a few in residency that had to go back to the OR after the defects were discovered in the post-operative period...it is just not pretty, and I get super paranoid about these things. I felt badly for bothering the urologist, but he assured me that he would rather have 30 intraoperative consults at the time of an original surgery than having to go back in days after the event. Fortunately, everything checked out ok, and while the patient lost a little more blood than I would have liked, she did very well throughout the surgery.
Then, it was back upstairs to review more NSTs and an ultrasound on one of my mild pre-ecclampsia patients (who also is a gestational diabetic). The doppler flow was worsening, as was her 24 hour urine protein level, so we made the decision for induction. Orders were written, post-op patients were checked, and my remaining surgeries proceeded without incident. I picked up CindyLou from daycare, we came home, ate dinner, she had a bath, a tantrum, and a bedtime story. Now she is tucked up in bed, I am tucked in on the couch (as yet unshowered, with a splitting headache, I might add) and I am praying for no more laboring patients tonight. Ah, just another lovely day in paradise. Isn't medicine fun and glamorous? Ha.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Issues
Taking a break from the medical for a moment. Mr. Whoo and I are facing a friendship dilemma. We are, perhaps, being somewhat unreasonable. In the past I have mentioned Mr. Whoo's core group of good friends, and how much they are a part of our own extended family. This group is such an entity that I was a smidge more apprehensive about meeting "the guys" than I was about meeting Mr. Whoo's parents. Over the years I have gotten close with all of the boys as well as extremely close with their wives. All of this was just dandy....until one of the guys cheated on his wife. Even worse, said guy was at our house visiting for the weekend when his wife found out!
His infidelity unmasked a whole multitude of other undesireable facets of his personality that, until that time, he was able to keep hidden from even his close friends. Mr. Whoo and I found ourselves sympathetic to Cheater's wife, and distancing ourselves from him. True to form, while Cheater's behavior caused great chaos within the core group, the guys came to the decision that Cheater was still "a part of them" and while his behavior was not condoned, it was forgiven. Fast forward a couple of years, the couple is now divorced. Cheater, after various and sundry placeholder relationships, jobs, and stunts, is now living with the very woman with whom he cheated, and is bringing her to "group" events as his girlfriend. Even more bizarre, most of the guys and girls are completely accepting of her and often speak of how "nice" this person is! I know for a fact that she knew that Cheater was married when she had the affair with him, so, in my opinion, that alone strikes her from the "nice" book. Mr. Whoo and I have been the most vocal in our disapproval, both of Cheater and his girlfriend, but now everyone is treating us as if we are strange for not just "letting it go."
Now, I know that everyone has their own personal "hot-button" issues. For me, it is infidelity. Without being too detailed, it has affected me in a personal way (not in my own marriage, but in my family). I realize that I am completely being emotional about this, but it is something I can't help. I can't even look Cheater in the eye anymore. Mr. Whoo rarely answers his calls. He and his girlfriend live within a reasonable distance from us, and he is forever making overtures for us to make plans together. We are starting to run out of excuses. So now we are wondering, are we being childish and immature about this whole issue?
For me, I like to think that I surround myself with people of good character. Since Cheater has shown his character to be sorely lacking, I would be happy to let the friendship fade into oblivion...save the "group," which keeps him squarely in our social picture. So where do we go from here? We can't spend forever avoiding him and shunning her. That makes me feel as though we don't have strong enough character to move on from our friend's bad decisions. So why do I feel, in my gut, that just "letting it go" reflects badly on me (like I'm condoning the behavior)? Argh. See what I mean about issues?
His infidelity unmasked a whole multitude of other undesireable facets of his personality that, until that time, he was able to keep hidden from even his close friends. Mr. Whoo and I found ourselves sympathetic to Cheater's wife, and distancing ourselves from him. True to form, while Cheater's behavior caused great chaos within the core group, the guys came to the decision that Cheater was still "a part of them" and while his behavior was not condoned, it was forgiven. Fast forward a couple of years, the couple is now divorced. Cheater, after various and sundry placeholder relationships, jobs, and stunts, is now living with the very woman with whom he cheated, and is bringing her to "group" events as his girlfriend. Even more bizarre, most of the guys and girls are completely accepting of her and often speak of how "nice" this person is! I know for a fact that she knew that Cheater was married when she had the affair with him, so, in my opinion, that alone strikes her from the "nice" book. Mr. Whoo and I have been the most vocal in our disapproval, both of Cheater and his girlfriend, but now everyone is treating us as if we are strange for not just "letting it go."
Now, I know that everyone has their own personal "hot-button" issues. For me, it is infidelity. Without being too detailed, it has affected me in a personal way (not in my own marriage, but in my family). I realize that I am completely being emotional about this, but it is something I can't help. I can't even look Cheater in the eye anymore. Mr. Whoo rarely answers his calls. He and his girlfriend live within a reasonable distance from us, and he is forever making overtures for us to make plans together. We are starting to run out of excuses. So now we are wondering, are we being childish and immature about this whole issue?
For me, I like to think that I surround myself with people of good character. Since Cheater has shown his character to be sorely lacking, I would be happy to let the friendship fade into oblivion...save the "group," which keeps him squarely in our social picture. So where do we go from here? We can't spend forever avoiding him and shunning her. That makes me feel as though we don't have strong enough character to move on from our friend's bad decisions. So why do I feel, in my gut, that just "letting it go" reflects badly on me (like I'm condoning the behavior)? Argh. See what I mean about issues?
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Under the Weather
Both literally and figuratively (lucky, lucky me)! I'm back! Battered, broken, sick, and exhausted, but back at home and back in the blogging world. Did ya miss me? Nah. No matter how wonderful an idea of a tropical cruise in January may sound, don't succumb to the allure. My body and my immune system are seriously up in arms over my fluctuating climate. We went from temperatures in the 20s into the 80s and then back to the teens in a little more than a week. There is a full fledged revolt waging here, and it is not pretty. As badly as I am feeling, Mr. Whoo has it worse, and today is his birthday. Happy Birthday, honey!
It is also not a fabulous idea to plan 2 back-to-back vacations in the weeks prior to a loved one's (very important) birthday, especially for a procrastinator like me. I had already had a good idea of the present he was getting, but minor details like dinner and a cake and all of the rest was a little more tricky with only a few day lead time. It is actually a very good thing that I didn't have a huge shindig planned, because the both of us were rendered absolutely useless this weekend, by colds and work and the like. On top of that we got about 4 to 5 inches of snow today (yay!) It has been a very low key day, and we have really needed it. Right now, Mr. Whoo is tending the driveway and CindyLou is busy decorating and re-decorating her kid sized snowman.
I am trying to recuperate, not only from vacation, but from getting my butt kicked at work in the last 5 days. We arrived home late on Tuesday, after a long, long 6 hour flight delay, pee soaked jeans (CindyLou's, not mine!), the great toddler pant airport search of 2007 (which culminated in a set of oriental style pj pants, only 27 dollars, in which the seam ripped within the first hour of wear), and a blizzard for the drive home. Wednesday, I had 3 surgeries scheduled, but one cancelled at the last minute, and, for a fleeting moment, I believed that I was going to get to leave the hospital before noon. Unfortunately, a laboring patient thwarted those dream plans and I was at the hospital until about 10 pm. Thursday brought 56 clinic patients and a tearful breakdown (moi), and I arrived home at 7 pm. Early Friday morning, around 3:45 am, a term patient with a non-reassuring fetal strip brought me into the hospital. Thankfully, the baby scored well on a biophysical profile, and the patient went on to have a very nice delivery after a little augmentation. The baby was perfectly fine, it just had a really tight nuchal and body cord. Luckily, since I was worried about the strip, I cancelled clinic patients to keep an eye on the baby. (Well, I say lucky now, but talk to me next week after my 100th patient in one day.)
This weekend I am doing my vacation penance call for OtherDoc, which has earned me the privilege of denying several pain meds to seekers, and a 6 am delivery this morning. I arrived home just in time to "get up" with CindyLou so that the birthday boy could sleep in, do the dishes, put away the groceries, and whip up some chili. Since then, I have been catatonic on the couch, staring out at the snow, and trying to keep from throwing up. Awesome. Right now, I actually am starting to feel more human! On that note, CindyLou is back in from the snow and hungry, so duty calls! I've missed you guys, and can't wait to catch up on what is going on in the blogging world! Oh, and I will publish comment responses soon, promise.
It is also not a fabulous idea to plan 2 back-to-back vacations in the weeks prior to a loved one's (very important) birthday, especially for a procrastinator like me. I had already had a good idea of the present he was getting, but minor details like dinner and a cake and all of the rest was a little more tricky with only a few day lead time. It is actually a very good thing that I didn't have a huge shindig planned, because the both of us were rendered absolutely useless this weekend, by colds and work and the like. On top of that we got about 4 to 5 inches of snow today (yay!) It has been a very low key day, and we have really needed it. Right now, Mr. Whoo is tending the driveway and CindyLou is busy decorating and re-decorating her kid sized snowman.
I am trying to recuperate, not only from vacation, but from getting my butt kicked at work in the last 5 days. We arrived home late on Tuesday, after a long, long 6 hour flight delay, pee soaked jeans (CindyLou's, not mine!), the great toddler pant airport search of 2007 (which culminated in a set of oriental style pj pants, only 27 dollars, in which the seam ripped within the first hour of wear), and a blizzard for the drive home. Wednesday, I had 3 surgeries scheduled, but one cancelled at the last minute, and, for a fleeting moment, I believed that I was going to get to leave the hospital before noon. Unfortunately, a laboring patient thwarted those dream plans and I was at the hospital until about 10 pm. Thursday brought 56 clinic patients and a tearful breakdown (moi), and I arrived home at 7 pm. Early Friday morning, around 3:45 am, a term patient with a non-reassuring fetal strip brought me into the hospital. Thankfully, the baby scored well on a biophysical profile, and the patient went on to have a very nice delivery after a little augmentation. The baby was perfectly fine, it just had a really tight nuchal and body cord. Luckily, since I was worried about the strip, I cancelled clinic patients to keep an eye on the baby. (Well, I say lucky now, but talk to me next week after my 100th patient in one day.)
This weekend I am doing my vacation penance call for OtherDoc, which has earned me the privilege of denying several pain meds to seekers, and a 6 am delivery this morning. I arrived home just in time to "get up" with CindyLou so that the birthday boy could sleep in, do the dishes, put away the groceries, and whip up some chili. Since then, I have been catatonic on the couch, staring out at the snow, and trying to keep from throwing up. Awesome. Right now, I actually am starting to feel more human! On that note, CindyLou is back in from the snow and hungry, so duty calls! I've missed you guys, and can't wait to catch up on what is going on in the blogging world! Oh, and I will publish comment responses soon, promise.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Award?
Holy cow, I've been nominated for a MedGaget 2006 Medical Web Blog Award, and here I am not posting for weeks and weeks. Who did this? (I suspect Fat Doctor...am I right?) I am incredibly flattered that a whole 12 people have voted for me already. Awesome. It looks like I am a far cry from winning, but if you wanna vote for fun, here is a link! Really, it is an honor just to be nominated. Thank you! :)
Back and Gone Again
My poor blog, she's been so neglected these last few weeks! We've had a jam-packed holiday season with multiple family obligations (not to mention work and the fact that this pregnancy is continuing to kick my ass). Over the Christmas holiday, my parents were in town for a week. It was wonderful having them here. CindyLou was so much fun this Christmas, saying "Merry Christmas, Mommy!" on that day and in the week following Christmas Day. So adorable. My parents left on the 26th and Mr. Whoo's brother and his family arrived that same evening. I spent most of the 27th catching up on office paperwork, doing a few small surgeries, and watching in amazement as the Seminoles finally played a good game, um, second half.
Then it was off to the ski cabin that Mr. Whoo's family had rented for the New Year's holiday. The cabin was really nice with amazing mountain views, and it was minutes to two different ski resorts. Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate. It was warm (40-50s) for the majority of the week. The first two days we had snow on the ground at the cabin, so the little ones got to sled and make snow angels. We also took them snow tubing one afternoon. There were 10 adults (including 2 pregnant women) and 7 kids (ages ranging from 9 months to 5 years), so to say that it was busy would be a gross understatement. For the most part, it was relaxing. I didn't do a whole lot of skiing, partially due to the less than stellar conditions, partially because of the pregnancy, and mostly because I generally spend most of the first few hours of skiing on my ample posterior, until I get my "ski legs." The majority of the time was spent watching bowl games, playing board games, and eating. My kind of vacation! We all watched the ball drop together, and I did have the teeniest sip of champagne (so good, sigh).
We arrived back home on New Year's Day, and our house appeared as though a Christmas bomb had gone off within. Messy, messy, messy. Mr. Whoo has been amazing about cleaning up Christmas. OtherDoc is also on vacation this week, so I got the double whammy of coming back to a full schedule and all of his patients to cover, to boot. I swear that my office staff is trying to kill me. Tuesday I had 53 patients in the office, Wednesday I had an induction and 4 surgeries, Thursday I had a c-section and 52 office patients, and Friday, for my "half-day" I had 27 office patients and 2 surgeries. Needless to say, I spent most of Friday night catatonic on the couch. This weekend I have to finish writing all of my clinic charts (before I forget what happened) and I must dictate my delinquent charts (all 26 of them, ack.)
Oh yes, and we also have to pack for the cruise that we are taking this next week. In retrospect, I realize that the timing of this cruise is less than ideal, but we booked the cruise before the ski trip was planned. The cruise is not just any old cruise, it is called The Rock Boat, and we have been on a few over the years. It started back in 2001 with Sister Hazel and a few bands and has since grown to a rather large floating concert with multiple bands. We are going with a group of friends, and it is always a good time. As expected, this is usually a big booze cruise, so I am a bit apprehensive about being the sole sober person, not only in my group of friends, but on the entire cruise ship. On the bright side, there will be lots of great music and concerts that I will actually remember this time, and I'll be ready with the video camera to record any and all funny/embarrassing moments.
We fly out Tuesday morning, we will drop CindyLou off with Mr. Whoo's mom, and then we are driving down with all of the gang on Wednesday to Fort Lauderdale. I am actually very thankful to be getting a few vacations so close together, it is just a matter of getting prepped and on the way that is stressing me out. Once we are on the boat, it will be nothing but relaxation. So, I am afraid that I will once again be out of touch for the next week or so. I have lots of interesting ideas in my head for future posts, and will do my best to post more regularly once the craziness dies down. Bear with me, life is getting in the way of blogging, it seems! I hope that you all are having a great 2007!
Then it was off to the ski cabin that Mr. Whoo's family had rented for the New Year's holiday. The cabin was really nice with amazing mountain views, and it was minutes to two different ski resorts. Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate. It was warm (40-50s) for the majority of the week. The first two days we had snow on the ground at the cabin, so the little ones got to sled and make snow angels. We also took them snow tubing one afternoon. There were 10 adults (including 2 pregnant women) and 7 kids (ages ranging from 9 months to 5 years), so to say that it was busy would be a gross understatement. For the most part, it was relaxing. I didn't do a whole lot of skiing, partially due to the less than stellar conditions, partially because of the pregnancy, and mostly because I generally spend most of the first few hours of skiing on my ample posterior, until I get my "ski legs." The majority of the time was spent watching bowl games, playing board games, and eating. My kind of vacation! We all watched the ball drop together, and I did have the teeniest sip of champagne (so good, sigh).
We arrived back home on New Year's Day, and our house appeared as though a Christmas bomb had gone off within. Messy, messy, messy. Mr. Whoo has been amazing about cleaning up Christmas. OtherDoc is also on vacation this week, so I got the double whammy of coming back to a full schedule and all of his patients to cover, to boot. I swear that my office staff is trying to kill me. Tuesday I had 53 patients in the office, Wednesday I had an induction and 4 surgeries, Thursday I had a c-section and 52 office patients, and Friday, for my "half-day" I had 27 office patients and 2 surgeries. Needless to say, I spent most of Friday night catatonic on the couch. This weekend I have to finish writing all of my clinic charts (before I forget what happened) and I must dictate my delinquent charts (all 26 of them, ack.)
Oh yes, and we also have to pack for the cruise that we are taking this next week. In retrospect, I realize that the timing of this cruise is less than ideal, but we booked the cruise before the ski trip was planned. The cruise is not just any old cruise, it is called The Rock Boat, and we have been on a few over the years. It started back in 2001 with Sister Hazel and a few bands and has since grown to a rather large floating concert with multiple bands. We are going with a group of friends, and it is always a good time. As expected, this is usually a big booze cruise, so I am a bit apprehensive about being the sole sober person, not only in my group of friends, but on the entire cruise ship. On the bright side, there will be lots of great music and concerts that I will actually remember this time, and I'll be ready with the video camera to record any and all funny/embarrassing moments.
We fly out Tuesday morning, we will drop CindyLou off with Mr. Whoo's mom, and then we are driving down with all of the gang on Wednesday to Fort Lauderdale. I am actually very thankful to be getting a few vacations so close together, it is just a matter of getting prepped and on the way that is stressing me out. Once we are on the boat, it will be nothing but relaxation. So, I am afraid that I will once again be out of touch for the next week or so. I have lots of interesting ideas in my head for future posts, and will do my best to post more regularly once the craziness dies down. Bear with me, life is getting in the way of blogging, it seems! I hope that you all are having a great 2007!
Saturday, December 23, 2006
'Tis the Season
...to be crazy. I've been laboring under some grand delusion that the "holidays" were supposed to be relaxing and carefree, as suggested by the title "holiday." Instead, they are more work and more stress and more pressure from patients to have their baby/surgery/consultation "right now" so as not to interfere with their holiday plans. There are times that I wish I were an OB that had no qualms about scheduling purely elective inductions. I would have stacked my remaining December patients for induction early in the week, clearing my holiday weekend from pending labor time bombs. Alas, more inductions = more sections. This isn't convenient for anybody.
Wednesday I had 4 scheduled surgeries and two inductions. The first surgery was a 400 pound repeat C-section. Her initial incision was, for some reason, made high on her abdomen, transverse, through the thickest part of her pannus. (We are talking about one foot of fat here, at least.) Due to the increased risk of infection making an incision in a low position under the pannus, we decided to use the same site. To add to the fun, the baby's presentation was transverse back down. We had to rotate kiddo to vertex, then I used a vacuum to gain the proper traction to deliver the baby. Fortunately, I had a seasoned OB as a first assist, and we both struggled with this case. Comparatively, the remaining surgeries progressed in a fairly straightforward manner.
One induction was for post-dates, one was for pre-ecclampsia. In true pre-ecclamptic style, my first induction zipped from 3 cm to pushing in about an hour, max. My second induction never made it past 4 cm and -2 station, as the baby decided it was against this whole labor business and decided to have huge, ugly late decelerations. To the OR we went, and thus I had my 5th surgery of the day.
My parents are in town, and CindyLou is just beside herself with all of the attention being lavished upon her. My mother baked (love you, mom!) and my dad fixed up the Grinch-y Christmas tree so that all of the lights are lit and the star is straight! I addressed all of the Christmas cards this morning (better late than never). Now I have to get myself together, get to the hospital to round and to tell my 39 weeker with gastroenteritis why this is *not* the ideal time for induction (what she wants), what with her puking her guts out and all. Then it's off to brave the last minute crowds to finish up the shopping! I will likely be incommunicado for a bit, with all of the family and holiday and work obligations, but I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and the happiest of New Years!
Wednesday I had 4 scheduled surgeries and two inductions. The first surgery was a 400 pound repeat C-section. Her initial incision was, for some reason, made high on her abdomen, transverse, through the thickest part of her pannus. (We are talking about one foot of fat here, at least.) Due to the increased risk of infection making an incision in a low position under the pannus, we decided to use the same site. To add to the fun, the baby's presentation was transverse back down. We had to rotate kiddo to vertex, then I used a vacuum to gain the proper traction to deliver the baby. Fortunately, I had a seasoned OB as a first assist, and we both struggled with this case. Comparatively, the remaining surgeries progressed in a fairly straightforward manner.
One induction was for post-dates, one was for pre-ecclampsia. In true pre-ecclamptic style, my first induction zipped from 3 cm to pushing in about an hour, max. My second induction never made it past 4 cm and -2 station, as the baby decided it was against this whole labor business and decided to have huge, ugly late decelerations. To the OR we went, and thus I had my 5th surgery of the day.
My parents are in town, and CindyLou is just beside herself with all of the attention being lavished upon her. My mother baked (love you, mom!) and my dad fixed up the Grinch-y Christmas tree so that all of the lights are lit and the star is straight! I addressed all of the Christmas cards this morning (better late than never). Now I have to get myself together, get to the hospital to round and to tell my 39 weeker with gastroenteritis why this is *not* the ideal time for induction (what she wants), what with her puking her guts out and all. Then it's off to brave the last minute crowds to finish up the shopping! I will likely be incommunicado for a bit, with all of the family and holiday and work obligations, but I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and the happiest of New Years!
Monday, December 18, 2006
No Champagne on NYE
We have a heartbeat! We also have a due date - July 23, 2007. The little bean looks really good, and is measuring about 9 weeks exactly. The heartrate was 171 bpm. We saw limb buds and even some movement today. I am beyond relieved.
I also got a really nice compliment today from the OB that I went to see in University City. I refer high-risk patients to this clinic, and the doc today said that they always welcomed my referrals as they were always appropriate. He said "If you call us after-hours about a patient, we know that she needs to be here." So very nice of him!
I am feeling all warm and fuzzy and happy now. We celebrated by taking CindyLou out for Mexican; she even ate salsa! I just wanted to give you a quick update and to thank all of you for all of your wonderful comments and support through all of my angst-ing. Your kindness has meant so much to me. Y'all are the best! More later, must. dictate. charts. :)
I also got a really nice compliment today from the OB that I went to see in University City. I refer high-risk patients to this clinic, and the doc today said that they always welcomed my referrals as they were always appropriate. He said "If you call us after-hours about a patient, we know that she needs to be here." So very nice of him!
I am feeling all warm and fuzzy and happy now. We celebrated by taking CindyLou out for Mexican; she even ate salsa! I just wanted to give you a quick update and to thank all of you for all of your wonderful comments and support through all of my angst-ing. Your kindness has meant so much to me. Y'all are the best! More later, must. dictate. charts. :)
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Jealousy
I hate to admit it, but I am an envious person these days. Instead of stressing about Christmas card lists, I will instead list people of whom I am jealous:
~people whose job resides within the confines of 8 to 5
~people that don't have to work at all
~one of my colleagues that is working in a large group and only has call one weekday each week and one weekend each month
~every person that has their holiday shopping/decorating/baking done
~anyone whose Christmas tree has not fallen over (twice) this season, thus destroying countless ornaments and hence appearing as though the Grinch has attempted to stuff said tree up the chimbley
~my patients that lounge upon my exam table (in their pajamas, no less) and proclaim how the hour of 10 am is "sooooooo early" to be at an appointment
~my patients with the unmitigated gall to start asking for medical maternity leave at 8 weeks gestation because they are just "way too tired" to work
~anyone whose job perks include having every single holiday off...Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, etc. Not to mention everyone whose job guarantees every single weekend without work obligation
~organized people (like those crazy people from whom I received Christmas cards in freaking November!)
~clean people
~people with time in their life to sleep, to exercise, and to prepare healthy meals for their families
~Fat Doctor, who has spent the last few weeks making the conference rounds at fun locations (so jealous!)
~people that aren't so whiny and complain-y as I
~people that can brush their teeth without fear of yakking
~people that know how their pregnancy is progressing without fear or worry
All right, enough pity party for now. Lest the strident objections about how I "chose" this lifestyle and "knew what I was getting into" when I became a physician arise, let me say that there really is no way to anticipate how difficult this kind of life can truly be until you are actually living it and unable to turn around and choose again without serious repercussions. I would say that 90% of the time I love my life, and wouldn't change a thing. Sometimes, that 10% that I would like to change gets a little vocal. I have so many blessings in my life for which to be grateful, so maybe I should start listing them when I start feeling my green-eyed monster stirring about.
Now I must do some serious internet Christmas shopping. I don't think anyone in my life would be getting any presents at all if not for the wondrous internet. I heart shopping online. Happy weekend to all!
~people whose job resides within the confines of 8 to 5
~people that don't have to work at all
~one of my colleagues that is working in a large group and only has call one weekday each week and one weekend each month
~every person that has their holiday shopping/decorating/baking done
~anyone whose Christmas tree has not fallen over (twice) this season, thus destroying countless ornaments and hence appearing as though the Grinch has attempted to stuff said tree up the chimbley
~my patients that lounge upon my exam table (in their pajamas, no less) and proclaim how the hour of 10 am is "sooooooo early" to be at an appointment
~my patients with the unmitigated gall to start asking for medical maternity leave at 8 weeks gestation because they are just "way too tired" to work
~anyone whose job perks include having every single holiday off...Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, etc. Not to mention everyone whose job guarantees every single weekend without work obligation
~organized people (like those crazy people from whom I received Christmas cards in freaking November!)
~clean people
~people with time in their life to sleep, to exercise, and to prepare healthy meals for their families
~Fat Doctor, who has spent the last few weeks making the conference rounds at fun locations (so jealous!)
~people that aren't so whiny and complain-y as I
~people that can brush their teeth without fear of yakking
~people that know how their pregnancy is progressing without fear or worry
All right, enough pity party for now. Lest the strident objections about how I "chose" this lifestyle and "knew what I was getting into" when I became a physician arise, let me say that there really is no way to anticipate how difficult this kind of life can truly be until you are actually living it and unable to turn around and choose again without serious repercussions. I would say that 90% of the time I love my life, and wouldn't change a thing. Sometimes, that 10% that I would like to change gets a little vocal. I have so many blessings in my life for which to be grateful, so maybe I should start listing them when I start feeling my green-eyed monster stirring about.
Now I must do some serious internet Christmas shopping. I don't think anyone in my life would be getting any presents at all if not for the wondrous internet. I heart shopping online. Happy weekend to all!
Saturday, December 09, 2006
So Tired
I have never been much of an Ozzy Osbourne fan (past, chicken-head eating Ozzy, nor present, parkinsonian DTs dysfunctional-parent Ozzy), but I distinctly remember seeing a portion of the video for the song "So Tired" in my old house in Mississippi and hearing the refrain "I am sooooo tired, and I just can't wait around for you." That's all that I remember of the song, but whenever I get really exhausted, this refrain echoes around in my foggy little brain like some sort of anthem. Truly bizarre, what the mind can spit out under duress. I wish that I could remember other, more useful details in this manner. Sorry for the silence, but I, as per usual, have been quite busy, and when I am not being busy, I am being catatonic on the sofa, stewing over everything else that needs to be done. Nary a witticism nor quirky observation about the universe about which to blog has entered my brain. Thank goodness that I've been tagged with not one, but two memes!
First, from Dr. K at That Mirror belongs to Frank - My 5 favorite Christmas Songs.
1. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen - My current favorite is performed by the Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLaughlin, and it is such a cool version, how can you not love it?
2. O Holy Night - This song never ceases to make me tear up, pregnant or not.
3. Carol of the Bells - I identify with the frenetic pacing of this Carol. Makes me feel right at home!
4. Tie! Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time - Paul McCartney This is a song that is really happy and cheery, and it reminds me of my parents. (P.S. Ew, while looking for a clip online I found out that Hilary Duff ruins, I mean, covers this song. My ears! Ick.)
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer - My childhood favorite, now CindyLou's very favorite, as well.
5. Adeste Fideles (O Come All Ye Faithful) - Only because I took Latin once upon a time, and I can actually sing this entire song in Latin. Yes, I am a dork.
Honorable Mention - Just about any song from John Denver and The Muppets - A Christmas Together. This just really takes me back to my childhood and Christmas with my parents. Also guaranteed to make me bawl like a little girl.
The second meme comes from At Your Cervix, and is titled "6 Weird Things." Only 6? Hmm.
1. I think that I have mentioned before that I have a real social phobia. I know this is weird because I interact with multiple people, strangers, in my every day work and life, and do quite well at it. However, in residency, I developed a true reluctance to answer the phone at home...ever. I think it stems from having such a demanding job, and I am wanting my time at home to have no other demands placed upon it. I am a real call screener. Sometimes I can make exceptions for my mother, but most of the time, I have to talk myself into answering the phone. Also, I hate to call in orders (like for pizza, etc.) or speak to people I don't know on the phone. Email can also go unanswered (and sometimes even unread) by me for weeks because I can't handle the pressure of a reply. Weird, right? I should be on medication for this.
2. I dig the paranormal. Ghosts, hauntings, astrology, tarot cards, divination, you name it, it is fascinating to me. I know my rising sign and where my moon is and have analyzed my and Mr. Whoo's astrological charts. I can also be very superstitious. This is weird because most of me is very rational/scientific, but I'm a sucker for anything extraordinary. Must be the Pisces in me. ;)
3. I eat spaghetti with ketchup on it. Yes, you read that correctly. Spaghetti with ketchup and parmesan cheese, and sometimes butter. This evolved from childhood, when my mother used to add a little ketchup to her spaghetti sauce on my serving, because it took the spice and bite out of the sauce for my young, delicate palate. It has since mutated. This habit really grosses Mr. Whoo out, but he eats tuna in mac and cheese, which I find equally disgusting. (How can you defile mac and cheese in this way?)
4. I am somewhat claustrophobic. While I don't dig small places, the true underlying fear is being unable to breathe. If I am in a small place, but can feel cool air blowing past my face, I am usually ok. I once had a total meltdown whilst "caving" in Tennessee on a youth group trip, because in one portion of the cave you had to get down and *roll* to pass through the cavern. Huge rocks on the top of you, mud and dirt beneath you. Freak out city. I also have to sleep on the right side of the bed, because I sleep on my right side, facing right, and have to have air in front of my face.
5. I was a Navy brat. I grew up moving about every 2 years, which sucked. My dad retired from the Navy when I was 12 or 13 and we moved to Florida where I completed high school, college, and med school before moving northward for residency. Mr. Whoo and I hope to stay put so that CindyLou can have the experience of growing up in one spot.
6. As a child, I was obsessed with Unicorns. Loved them to pieces. Think of Kate from Dodgeball, except that the obsession did not follow me into adulthood. I wanted to believe they were real, and I had a book extolling all of the possibilities of the existence of unicorns. I had a blue million "My Little Ponies." (Which, I am happy to report, CindyLou now adores.) I have an obscene collection of unicorns packed away in my basement, just waiting for CindyLou to be ripe for a passion of her own. Evil Mommy.
I know that I am now supposed to tag other people to do this, but I think that everyone I read has already done these memes weeks ago! If you haven't yet, consider yourself tagged. Lazy = me.
First, from Dr. K at That Mirror belongs to Frank - My 5 favorite Christmas Songs.
1. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen - My current favorite is performed by the Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLaughlin, and it is such a cool version, how can you not love it?
2. O Holy Night - This song never ceases to make me tear up, pregnant or not.
3. Carol of the Bells - I identify with the frenetic pacing of this Carol. Makes me feel right at home!
4. Tie! Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time - Paul McCartney This is a song that is really happy and cheery, and it reminds me of my parents. (P.S. Ew, while looking for a clip online I found out that Hilary Duff ruins, I mean, covers this song. My ears! Ick.)
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer - My childhood favorite, now CindyLou's very favorite, as well.
5. Adeste Fideles (O Come All Ye Faithful) - Only because I took Latin once upon a time, and I can actually sing this entire song in Latin. Yes, I am a dork.
Honorable Mention - Just about any song from John Denver and The Muppets - A Christmas Together. This just really takes me back to my childhood and Christmas with my parents. Also guaranteed to make me bawl like a little girl.
The second meme comes from At Your Cervix, and is titled "6 Weird Things." Only 6? Hmm.
1. I think that I have mentioned before that I have a real social phobia. I know this is weird because I interact with multiple people, strangers, in my every day work and life, and do quite well at it. However, in residency, I developed a true reluctance to answer the phone at home...ever. I think it stems from having such a demanding job, and I am wanting my time at home to have no other demands placed upon it. I am a real call screener. Sometimes I can make exceptions for my mother, but most of the time, I have to talk myself into answering the phone. Also, I hate to call in orders (like for pizza, etc.) or speak to people I don't know on the phone. Email can also go unanswered (and sometimes even unread) by me for weeks because I can't handle the pressure of a reply. Weird, right? I should be on medication for this.
2. I dig the paranormal. Ghosts, hauntings, astrology, tarot cards, divination, you name it, it is fascinating to me. I know my rising sign and where my moon is and have analyzed my and Mr. Whoo's astrological charts. I can also be very superstitious. This is weird because most of me is very rational/scientific, but I'm a sucker for anything extraordinary. Must be the Pisces in me. ;)
3. I eat spaghetti with ketchup on it. Yes, you read that correctly. Spaghetti with ketchup and parmesan cheese, and sometimes butter. This evolved from childhood, when my mother used to add a little ketchup to her spaghetti sauce on my serving, because it took the spice and bite out of the sauce for my young, delicate palate. It has since mutated. This habit really grosses Mr. Whoo out, but he eats tuna in mac and cheese, which I find equally disgusting. (How can you defile mac and cheese in this way?)
4. I am somewhat claustrophobic. While I don't dig small places, the true underlying fear is being unable to breathe. If I am in a small place, but can feel cool air blowing past my face, I am usually ok. I once had a total meltdown whilst "caving" in Tennessee on a youth group trip, because in one portion of the cave you had to get down and *roll* to pass through the cavern. Huge rocks on the top of you, mud and dirt beneath you. Freak out city. I also have to sleep on the right side of the bed, because I sleep on my right side, facing right, and have to have air in front of my face.
5. I was a Navy brat. I grew up moving about every 2 years, which sucked. My dad retired from the Navy when I was 12 or 13 and we moved to Florida where I completed high school, college, and med school before moving northward for residency. Mr. Whoo and I hope to stay put so that CindyLou can have the experience of growing up in one spot.
6. As a child, I was obsessed with Unicorns. Loved them to pieces. Think of Kate from Dodgeball, except that the obsession did not follow me into adulthood. I wanted to believe they were real, and I had a book extolling all of the possibilities of the existence of unicorns. I had a blue million "My Little Ponies." (Which, I am happy to report, CindyLou now adores.) I have an obscene collection of unicorns packed away in my basement, just waiting for CindyLou to be ripe for a passion of her own. Evil Mommy.
I know that I am now supposed to tag other people to do this, but I think that everyone I read has already done these memes weeks ago! If you haven't yet, consider yourself tagged. Lazy = me.
P. S. S. As for the bean, no news, thus far, is good news, right? So far everything is status quo, gagginess, fatigue, et. al. No bleeding or cramping, so I assume the bean is hanging in there. My appointment isn't until the 18th, so I am trying not to obsess too much until then.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Walking Barefoot Uphill in the Snow....Both Ways!
I'm going to turn in to one of those crotchety old physicians that thinks that the younger generation of physicians are a bunch of slack-asses. I can just feel it already. From time to time I have a medical student on rotation for OB/GYN with me. I usually only have 2 or 3 a year, but lately, more and more have been requesting to switch rotations from some other doc to me. I am flattered, really, that the students are having such a good time in my clinic, but sometimes I come across a student that just rubs me the wrong way. Here is a list of what not to do as a student (claiming to want to go into OB/GYN):
~ show up to round at least half an hour after the physician is already there, and a full hour after the time that s/he told you to be there
~ after being late to said rounds, ask "Well, you don't want me to write notes on the patients *now*, do you?"
~ when your precepting physician asks you to pull up a newish drug on your fancy new PDA to check for interactions, do not say "Don't *you* have one of these to look things up?"
~ wander over and play with the newborn kiddo while your precepting physician is repairing a second degree, and trying to show you how to do it.
~ make up a lie about an ailing, possibly dying, relative, in order to get the full week around Thanksgiving off, rather than just being upfront, honest and asking for the time outright.
~ ask your precepting physician for the dosages of medications when writing prescriptions (after s/he has told you several different times, nevermind that you have a fancy PDA to look them up) because "It's easier to ask you than to look it up."
~ near the end of the rotation, when you are well versed in discharge instructions and discharge meds, when the precepting physician asks you to get a patient's discharge ready, do not ignore her/his request, and instead, play with one of the newborn kiddos in the nursery because "She was crying."
~ decline to watch a circ because you've "seen enough of those, already."
This is just a sampling of the smorgasbord of med student miscues during a recent rotation. It really blows my mind (long winded tirade ahead) because when *I* was a student in a large teaching institution, my butt was rounding on patients at 4 in the morning, frantically getting notes written, vitals, and labs pulled before the intern came in to round between 5 and 5 :30 am. You wouldn't dream of getting to the hospital after the intern much less the attending! All discharge orders were skeletonized (along with prescriptions) and tucked in a pocket in the front of the chart in order for more efficient discharges. If (and I do mean if) the attending ever spoke to you directly outside of lecture and asked you to do something, you better have it done before the request was cold in the air! You certainly didn't smart back. Declining to watch *any* procedure? That just didn't happen. Because of the atmosphere in the hospital in which I trained, you functioned as a Sub-I when you were a third year, and really, as a fourth year, you functioned as an intern. I realize that a small community based hospital is going to be cushier, and definitely not as much work as a large inner city hospital. The respect and interest in learning should be the same across the board though. *Sigh*
Okay, you can start reading again. I'm done ranting for now.
In other news, Mr. Whoo is sitting out in the freezing cold woods looking to shoot some poor defenseless animal, CindyLou is watching her 3rd episode of Mickey Mouse Club-house, and I am getting really good at holding my breath when opening the fridge, lest the smell of the food in there make me gag. I really don't think there is anything rotten in the fridge. Mr. Whoo can't seem to smell anything offensive, but I'm gagging just the same. I'd like to know what is going on with this pregnancy, because I'm really not digging the gagginess, but I would gladly take it if it meant that the bean was going to be ok. I have made the decision not to order any further testing on myself, and I will wait until I see a physician in University City and let them diagnose me...hopefully sometime next week. Thank you all again for your kind thoughts, wishes and prayers. You are the best, and I will keep you updated. :)
~ show up to round at least half an hour after the physician is already there, and a full hour after the time that s/he told you to be there
~ after being late to said rounds, ask "Well, you don't want me to write notes on the patients *now*, do you?"
~ when your precepting physician asks you to pull up a newish drug on your fancy new PDA to check for interactions, do not say "Don't *you* have one of these to look things up?"
~ wander over and play with the newborn kiddo while your precepting physician is repairing a second degree, and trying to show you how to do it.
~ make up a lie about an ailing, possibly dying, relative, in order to get the full week around Thanksgiving off, rather than just being upfront, honest and asking for the time outright.
~ ask your precepting physician for the dosages of medications when writing prescriptions (after s/he has told you several different times, nevermind that you have a fancy PDA to look them up) because "It's easier to ask you than to look it up."
~ near the end of the rotation, when you are well versed in discharge instructions and discharge meds, when the precepting physician asks you to get a patient's discharge ready, do not ignore her/his request, and instead, play with one of the newborn kiddos in the nursery because "She was crying."
~ decline to watch a circ because you've "seen enough of those, already."
This is just a sampling of the smorgasbord of med student miscues during a recent rotation. It really blows my mind (long winded tirade ahead) because when *I* was a student in a large teaching institution, my butt was rounding on patients at 4 in the morning, frantically getting notes written, vitals, and labs pulled before the intern came in to round between 5 and 5 :30 am. You wouldn't dream of getting to the hospital after the intern much less the attending! All discharge orders were skeletonized (along with prescriptions) and tucked in a pocket in the front of the chart in order for more efficient discharges. If (and I do mean if) the attending ever spoke to you directly outside of lecture and asked you to do something, you better have it done before the request was cold in the air! You certainly didn't smart back. Declining to watch *any* procedure? That just didn't happen. Because of the atmosphere in the hospital in which I trained, you functioned as a Sub-I when you were a third year, and really, as a fourth year, you functioned as an intern. I realize that a small community based hospital is going to be cushier, and definitely not as much work as a large inner city hospital. The respect and interest in learning should be the same across the board though. *Sigh*
Okay, you can start reading again. I'm done ranting for now.
In other news, Mr. Whoo is sitting out in the freezing cold woods looking to shoot some poor defenseless animal, CindyLou is watching her 3rd episode of Mickey Mouse Club-house, and I am getting really good at holding my breath when opening the fridge, lest the smell of the food in there make me gag. I really don't think there is anything rotten in the fridge. Mr. Whoo can't seem to smell anything offensive, but I'm gagging just the same. I'd like to know what is going on with this pregnancy, because I'm really not digging the gagginess, but I would gladly take it if it meant that the bean was going to be ok. I have made the decision not to order any further testing on myself, and I will wait until I see a physician in University City and let them diagnose me...hopefully sometime next week. Thank you all again for your kind thoughts, wishes and prayers. You are the best, and I will keep you updated. :)
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Quick Update
I am whipped, as the laboring patients just keep on coming. I've also 4 big surgeries tomorrow. CindyLou is all better. No more pukiness, but she hasn't been sleeping all that well since the vomit incident. Hopefully she will settle back down soon, and she seems none the worse for wear. She is back to her normal sunny self, thank goodness!
As for the little July bean, it is still only a bean. The USG shows a 5w2d gestational sac with yolk sac. (EDC July 29) It seems to look ok (good decidual reaction, etc.), but I'm concerned because I figured my dates to be about 6 weeks. It is definitely feasible (TMI) that conception happened on Nov. 4th, but I figure that's a little late for ovulation. HcG is about 10,000 (ok, but really should see a heartbeat around this level) and progesterone is a little lower than I am happy with at 14.5. So, I may be dealing with an SAB, which sucks, but it happens. I'm waffling on supplementation, since there really is no evidence that it helps (it just may make me feel like I am doing *something*!)
Nothing to do but wait and see. I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason. I'll repeat the USG next week and pray a lot between now and then. The good news is that I conceived within 2 months of trying, so I still have decent fertility. This may be the universe's way of telling me to get into better shape before I start a pregnancy. Thank all of you for your wonderful comments and concerns. I promise to write more this weekend when I am finally free of laboring women for a full 2 days. (Yippee!) You guys are awesome, I mean it.
As for the little July bean, it is still only a bean. The USG shows a 5w2d gestational sac with yolk sac. (EDC July 29) It seems to look ok (good decidual reaction, etc.), but I'm concerned because I figured my dates to be about 6 weeks. It is definitely feasible (TMI) that conception happened on Nov. 4th, but I figure that's a little late for ovulation. HcG is about 10,000 (ok, but really should see a heartbeat around this level) and progesterone is a little lower than I am happy with at 14.5. So, I may be dealing with an SAB, which sucks, but it happens. I'm waffling on supplementation, since there really is no evidence that it helps (it just may make me feel like I am doing *something*!)
Nothing to do but wait and see. I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason. I'll repeat the USG next week and pray a lot between now and then. The good news is that I conceived within 2 months of trying, so I still have decent fertility. This may be the universe's way of telling me to get into better shape before I start a pregnancy. Thank all of you for your wonderful comments and concerns. I promise to write more this weekend when I am finally free of laboring women for a full 2 days. (Yippee!) You guys are awesome, I mean it.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Water is Breaking All Over Town
I've decided that I don't like being OtherDoc for the week. I seriously don't know how that man functions with so many patients! This whole weekend has been overtaken by OtherDoc's patients, and I feel like I am a resident again with deliveries and emergencies around the clock! I got called away from Thanksgiving dinner to do an emergency surgery on a second trimester miscarriage that hemorrhaged half of her blood volume in the ED. What a terrible experience for this poor woman. She was OtherDoc's patient, scared to death, and she didn't know me from some idiot off the street...as evidenced by her query, "So, have you ever *done* this before?" I guess I understand her concern, but criminy! She had already been started with a transfusion in the ER. The surgery went really well, and the source of her bleeding was a retained placenta. I kept her overnight to observe her blood levels, and fortunately they stabilized. What a horrible Thanksgiving for her, though.
The multiple hits kept on coming through Thursday evening, between the ER and OB triage, I think I was paged every 1-2 hours. Not very conducive to rest, I might add! Earlier in the week, I had gotten the early morning (5 am) bathroom report two mornings in a row from one of OtherDoc's patients, QuestionWoman. I was treated to a fantastical description of the appearance of QW's mucus when she wiped (clear with a few brown spots if you must know). I was thrilled beyond belief to tell this woman (not a first time mother, either) how normal she was, both mornings. Fast forward to 1 am on Friday morning when I got the ruptured water report, followed by the question of what to do? (Hmmm, I wonder?) I pushed back my jaded cynicism and tried to be a pleasant and understanding sleep-deprived physician. I put my very best phone voice on and urged her to get up to OB triage, and then silently prayed that she had peed. No such luck, the call came in from triage at 2:30 am, she was definitely ruptured.
CindyLou's daycare was closed on Friday, and in an unprecedented show of optimism, I had figured that I would be able to bring her to round at the hospital, then spend the majority of the day at home, having mother-daughter time. Well, that all went out the window with a labor patient, so I asked Mr. Whoo to take CindyLou to his office during my rounds, where I would pick her up in between rounding and delivering QW. I discharged the one patient that had the miscarriage, and got QW tucked in with her epidural right around 10 am. I was about to fly to Mr. Whoo's office to pick up the munchkin and get her home for lunch when I received the wonderful news that another of OtherDoc's patients was in triage with ruptured membranes. "That's funny!" I told the triage nurse, "Great joke." Only she wasn't joking. Ok, make that two labor patients. I called Mr. Whoo back and broke the news that it was he that got to keep CindyLou for the work day, and I felt terrible. He was his ever-gracious self, though. I love that man.
Long story, short, between the two labor patients and multiple triage visitors and admissions(some of whom were actually *my* patients), I was at the hospital until about 6:30 Friday evening. I got to see CindyLou for about an hour before she was ready for bed. I stayed up until around 10:30 or so, more just to decompress from the day than anything, and I then became as dead to the world. I was awakened by tiny fingers on my arm at 1:45 in the morning. In my sleep fogged brain, I didn't question the rarity of a middle of the night venture into our bedroom, I simply began to lift CindyLou into the bed...and then I touched something damp on her PJs. That smelled like vomit. (Mental note to self, do quick puke check on darling child *prior* to lifting her into your own bed and fouling your own sheets.) The poor thing had vomit all over the front of her PJ's. The smell was just a little too much for my super-sensitive nostrils, and it triggered my extra-sensitive gag reflex. Before I made my own mess, I handed her off to Mr. Whoo, composed myself, and set about cleaning the bed.
Vomit was *everywhere;* on her pillow, on the side of the bed, and piled on the floor. I couldn't believe that we didn't hear her puking on the monitor. I felt like a really bad mommy. Between the two of us, with Mr. Whoo dealing with most of the vomit clean up due to my constant gagging, we got CindyLou cleaned up, clothes changed, hair washed, her bed remade, and tucked her back into bed. Then we changed our own bed and puke tainted clothes, and were back in bed by 2:30. Cue the pager at 3:16 am. ( I am not kidding.) One of my patients (1 of the the remaining 2 due this month) was in triage, a mere 8 cm dilated. I was out of the bed, dressed, and back at the hospital by 3:45 am. The patient delivered her baby in about 15 minutes, and sustained a partial 4th degree tear in the process, despite my best efforts. Ah, there's just nothing like fixing a 4th degree on a woman without an epidural at 4 am. Fun times.
I finished the delivery, and dragged myself to the nurses' station to write orders, where I was greeted with more wonderful news that OtherDoc had yet another term patient in triage, who had (you guessed it!) ruptured membranes. I considered dissolving into a raving, sputtering heap at that very instant, but somehow kept it together enough to find out her stats and determine that I could, at least, go back home and sleep in my own bed for a few hours. I drove, zombie-like, back home, narrowly missed hitting a deer, and fell into my bed at about 5:15 am. At this point, sleep was fitful and disjointed, and punctuated with pages at 7 and 9 am. OtherDoc's patient was requesting an epidural, so I dragged myself out of bed and back to the hospital by 10:30 am. I rounded on a gazillion patients, admitted yet another one of OtherDoc's patients with ruptured membranes (are you seeing the pattern, here?) for a repeat C-Section, did the C-section, caught a baby, and made my way back home in time to watch my Seminoles blow opportunity after opportunity to beat the hated Gates. I don't think I did much more than stare blankly at the TV for the remainder of Saturday. I was too tired to even nap. Mr. Whoo is amazing, and he had the whole kitchen cleaned up, and even did laundry all day yesterday. He is Superman.
I had a few more pages for wanna-be labor contenders last night, but no further admissions, thank you, lord. I still have 7 or 8 patients to round on today, and 5 o'clock (when OtherDoc starts taking his own patients again) cannot get here fast enough. Unfortunately, I'll not have much of a reprieve this week. I have a few inductions, a few surgeries, and full clinic days looming ahead. Thank goodness for a weekend off in the not too distant future. I can't keep this frantic pace; I am getting too old for this!
The multiple hits kept on coming through Thursday evening, between the ER and OB triage, I think I was paged every 1-2 hours. Not very conducive to rest, I might add! Earlier in the week, I had gotten the early morning (5 am) bathroom report two mornings in a row from one of OtherDoc's patients, QuestionWoman. I was treated to a fantastical description of the appearance of QW's mucus when she wiped (clear with a few brown spots if you must know). I was thrilled beyond belief to tell this woman (not a first time mother, either) how normal she was, both mornings. Fast forward to 1 am on Friday morning when I got the ruptured water report, followed by the question of what to do? (Hmmm, I wonder?) I pushed back my jaded cynicism and tried to be a pleasant and understanding sleep-deprived physician. I put my very best phone voice on and urged her to get up to OB triage, and then silently prayed that she had peed. No such luck, the call came in from triage at 2:30 am, she was definitely ruptured.
CindyLou's daycare was closed on Friday, and in an unprecedented show of optimism, I had figured that I would be able to bring her to round at the hospital, then spend the majority of the day at home, having mother-daughter time. Well, that all went out the window with a labor patient, so I asked Mr. Whoo to take CindyLou to his office during my rounds, where I would pick her up in between rounding and delivering QW. I discharged the one patient that had the miscarriage, and got QW tucked in with her epidural right around 10 am. I was about to fly to Mr. Whoo's office to pick up the munchkin and get her home for lunch when I received the wonderful news that another of OtherDoc's patients was in triage with ruptured membranes. "That's funny!" I told the triage nurse, "Great joke." Only she wasn't joking. Ok, make that two labor patients. I called Mr. Whoo back and broke the news that it was he that got to keep CindyLou for the work day, and I felt terrible. He was his ever-gracious self, though. I love that man.
Long story, short, between the two labor patients and multiple triage visitors and admissions(some of whom were actually *my* patients), I was at the hospital until about 6:30 Friday evening. I got to see CindyLou for about an hour before she was ready for bed. I stayed up until around 10:30 or so, more just to decompress from the day than anything, and I then became as dead to the world. I was awakened by tiny fingers on my arm at 1:45 in the morning. In my sleep fogged brain, I didn't question the rarity of a middle of the night venture into our bedroom, I simply began to lift CindyLou into the bed...and then I touched something damp on her PJs. That smelled like vomit. (Mental note to self, do quick puke check on darling child *prior* to lifting her into your own bed and fouling your own sheets.) The poor thing had vomit all over the front of her PJ's. The smell was just a little too much for my super-sensitive nostrils, and it triggered my extra-sensitive gag reflex. Before I made my own mess, I handed her off to Mr. Whoo, composed myself, and set about cleaning the bed.
Vomit was *everywhere;* on her pillow, on the side of the bed, and piled on the floor. I couldn't believe that we didn't hear her puking on the monitor. I felt like a really bad mommy. Between the two of us, with Mr. Whoo dealing with most of the vomit clean up due to my constant gagging, we got CindyLou cleaned up, clothes changed, hair washed, her bed remade, and tucked her back into bed. Then we changed our own bed and puke tainted clothes, and were back in bed by 2:30. Cue the pager at 3:16 am. ( I am not kidding.) One of my patients (1 of the the remaining 2 due this month) was in triage, a mere 8 cm dilated. I was out of the bed, dressed, and back at the hospital by 3:45 am. The patient delivered her baby in about 15 minutes, and sustained a partial 4th degree tear in the process, despite my best efforts. Ah, there's just nothing like fixing a 4th degree on a woman without an epidural at 4 am. Fun times.
I finished the delivery, and dragged myself to the nurses' station to write orders, where I was greeted with more wonderful news that OtherDoc had yet another term patient in triage, who had (you guessed it!) ruptured membranes. I considered dissolving into a raving, sputtering heap at that very instant, but somehow kept it together enough to find out her stats and determine that I could, at least, go back home and sleep in my own bed for a few hours. I drove, zombie-like, back home, narrowly missed hitting a deer, and fell into my bed at about 5:15 am. At this point, sleep was fitful and disjointed, and punctuated with pages at 7 and 9 am. OtherDoc's patient was requesting an epidural, so I dragged myself out of bed and back to the hospital by 10:30 am. I rounded on a gazillion patients, admitted yet another one of OtherDoc's patients with ruptured membranes (are you seeing the pattern, here?) for a repeat C-Section, did the C-section, caught a baby, and made my way back home in time to watch my Seminoles blow opportunity after opportunity to beat the hated Gates. I don't think I did much more than stare blankly at the TV for the remainder of Saturday. I was too tired to even nap. Mr. Whoo is amazing, and he had the whole kitchen cleaned up, and even did laundry all day yesterday. He is Superman.
I had a few more pages for wanna-be labor contenders last night, but no further admissions, thank you, lord. I still have 7 or 8 patients to round on today, and 5 o'clock (when OtherDoc starts taking his own patients again) cannot get here fast enough. Unfortunately, I'll not have much of a reprieve this week. I have a few inductions, a few surgeries, and full clinic days looming ahead. Thank goodness for a weekend off in the not too distant future. I can't keep this frantic pace; I am getting too old for this!
Thursday, November 23, 2006
"Thanksgivvinnnggg
....is a very special night. Jimmy Walker used to say Dyn-o-mite." (Gotta love Adam Sandler!) I awoke with this very appropriate song running through my mind, at the crack of dawn, of course. One day (I hope) little Miss CindyLou will learn the value of sleeping in! No matter, we had to get the monstrous bird into the oven pretty early. My grandparents are driving up for Thanksgiving dinner, so we did the 8 am power clean once the turkey was in the oven. Now the house is filled with the wonderful aroma of roasting turkey, stuffing, and simmering giblet gravy. We watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Extravaganza, er, Parade, and now I'm sitting here tearing up over the Detroit Lions football players talking about that for which they are thankful. Ah, the holidays.
Mr. Whoo and I have the Thanksgiving dinner down to a science. I'm almost positive that we have had Thanksgiving at home for the five years that we have been married. I cook the stuffing, he preps the bird, I peel potatoes, he mashes them, I set the table, and he carves the turkey. We are a well-oiled, Thanksiving dinner making machine. I baked my pumpkin pie last night, and had CindyLou help me mix it all together. It was so much fun to "cook" with her. She is growing up so fast. I only had to make a quick run to the hospital this morning to round on one patient (that I released this morning to go to her own Thanksgiving Dinner). I figure that this Thanksgiving will play out much like Thanksgivings that I have worked in the past, very peaceful, until, that is, after everyone has finished their dinner! Then, either they figure "Hey, the family is all together! What better time than now to head to the hospital en masse to see if Sally Jo happens to be in labor?" or the pregnant moms start mistaking their indigestion for labor pain. It never fails. It goes the same for Christmas, as well.
I have so very much for which to be thankful this year. My wonderful husband and daughter, my family and extended family, our wonderful friends, a lovely home, a job that I love (most days), good health, and the promise of new little miracle, due sometime in July. God has truly blessed our lives, and I am so thankful, today and every day. God bless and Happy Thanksgiving!
Mr. Whoo and I have the Thanksgiving dinner down to a science. I'm almost positive that we have had Thanksgiving at home for the five years that we have been married. I cook the stuffing, he preps the bird, I peel potatoes, he mashes them, I set the table, and he carves the turkey. We are a well-oiled, Thanksiving dinner making machine. I baked my pumpkin pie last night, and had CindyLou help me mix it all together. It was so much fun to "cook" with her. She is growing up so fast. I only had to make a quick run to the hospital this morning to round on one patient (that I released this morning to go to her own Thanksgiving Dinner). I figure that this Thanksgiving will play out much like Thanksgivings that I have worked in the past, very peaceful, until, that is, after everyone has finished their dinner! Then, either they figure "Hey, the family is all together! What better time than now to head to the hospital en masse to see if Sally Jo happens to be in labor?" or the pregnant moms start mistaking their indigestion for labor pain. It never fails. It goes the same for Christmas, as well.
I have so very much for which to be thankful this year. My wonderful husband and daughter, my family and extended family, our wonderful friends, a lovely home, a job that I love (most days), good health, and the promise of new little miracle, due sometime in July. God has truly blessed our lives, and I am so thankful, today and every day. God bless and Happy Thanksgiving!
Sunday, November 19, 2006
A View from the Couch
In true slug fashion, I spent the whole of yesterday on the couch in a near catatonic state. I only stirred to use the bathroom, care for the kidlet, and to eat. Usually, I feel supremely guilty about locking an active toddler in the house all day long, but yesterday was rainy and blustery, so outside play was out, anyway. She spent the morning "cooking" in her play kitchen and bringing delightful plastic food dishes out to me and to Mr. Whoo to sample. We also curled up with a few movies. CindyLou has a small lap-sized DVD player that she calls her "'puter (computer)." We bought it for it's sanity saving value on long trips and airplane rides. The DVD player is silver, and it looks very much like my laptop ("mommy's 'puter"). So she snuggled next to me on the couch and we watched "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" (the cool claymation one) and "Lady and the Tramp" on the DVD player, while college football reigned supreme on our living room TV. Those two movies just happen to be my childhood favorites, as well, but I swear that she picked them all on her own! She is my mini-me. It was really nice and relaxing, and just what I needed.
Mr. Whoo was a bit more productive (as always), and he even took it upon himself to groom our fatty-bobolatty cats. You see, once a kitty reaches such gargantuan proportion, it is damn near impossible for them to clean their backsides. Therefore, it is up to us to brush and groom the hapless creatures. Our girl kitty bears the brunt of having "bad hair." She has tons of kitty dandruff, and her fur gets really oily. Mr. Whoo brushed the equivalent of a whole cat's worth of hair from her back, and then remarked how nice it would be if someone would just invent a handy-dandy spray in order to spruce the cats up with minimal effort. "They could even call it Ca-breze," he quipped. Hilarious. Everyone knows how fun it is to give a cat a bath, so Cabreze sounds like a phenomenal idea to me!
We also had our Body for Life "free day" yesterday, in honor of college football. We ordered Chinese delivery at 11:00 in the morning, y'all. We are pathetic. It was sooooo good! So far this week I am down 4.2 pounds, and I haven't even been getting all of the meals into the day, so I am pumped. It is a good start, at any rate. I used to live every day like it was a "free day" so eating on track this week was a true eye-opener. This week I need to try a little harder with the weight lifting. I am such a puss, and I know I'm not pushing myself as hard as I should be. I am really proud of Mr. Whoo, as well. He's lost over 6 pounds! (He has been much better about sticking to plan and really utilizing the workouts. I think it is because he made the mistake of telling one of his buddies about BFL and now said buddy is starting the program, too. Ever the competitor!)
Today we went to church and I cried through a really nice service about giving thanks and counting blessings. It was really very touching. Then we braved the masses and hit Sam's club and the grocery store to stock up for our Thanksgiving feast. Now CindyLou is napping, Mr. Whoo is out scouting hunting sites (insert eye roll here), and I am blogging, procrastinating dictating my delinquent charts, and watching a herd of deer in the backyard. It's been a good weekend; let's hope this trend continues throughout the week!
Mr. Whoo was a bit more productive (as always), and he even took it upon himself to groom our fatty-bobolatty cats. You see, once a kitty reaches such gargantuan proportion, it is damn near impossible for them to clean their backsides. Therefore, it is up to us to brush and groom the hapless creatures. Our girl kitty bears the brunt of having "bad hair." She has tons of kitty dandruff, and her fur gets really oily. Mr. Whoo brushed the equivalent of a whole cat's worth of hair from her back, and then remarked how nice it would be if someone would just invent a handy-dandy spray in order to spruce the cats up with minimal effort. "They could even call it Ca-breze," he quipped. Hilarious. Everyone knows how fun it is to give a cat a bath, so Cabreze sounds like a phenomenal idea to me!
We also had our Body for Life "free day" yesterday, in honor of college football. We ordered Chinese delivery at 11:00 in the morning, y'all. We are pathetic. It was sooooo good! So far this week I am down 4.2 pounds, and I haven't even been getting all of the meals into the day, so I am pumped. It is a good start, at any rate. I used to live every day like it was a "free day" so eating on track this week was a true eye-opener. This week I need to try a little harder with the weight lifting. I am such a puss, and I know I'm not pushing myself as hard as I should be. I am really proud of Mr. Whoo, as well. He's lost over 6 pounds! (He has been much better about sticking to plan and really utilizing the workouts. I think it is because he made the mistake of telling one of his buddies about BFL and now said buddy is starting the program, too. Ever the competitor!)
Today we went to church and I cried through a really nice service about giving thanks and counting blessings. It was really very touching. Then we braved the masses and hit Sam's club and the grocery store to stock up for our Thanksgiving feast. Now CindyLou is napping, Mr. Whoo is out scouting hunting sites (insert eye roll here), and I am blogging, procrastinating dictating my delinquent charts, and watching a herd of deer in the backyard. It's been a good weekend; let's hope this trend continues throughout the week!
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