Let's catch up, shall we?

Ha!  The last post I wrote on here was called My newly insane life, and how apt that turned out to be.  My apologies for not having updated recently, but... well... it's been a bit insane.

When I last wrote, my son was still in the hospital, recieving IV fluids for dehydration and the stomach flu.  It was a Thursday, if I recall correctly.  Well, my own father flew in from the UK to spend time with us that Saturday, and it was the same day Little O was discharged.  He came home to see his Grandad, and we were thrilled his doctor thought he was well enough to come home back on a regular feeding schedule.  We were all looking forward to getting some sleep, some food, and spending time with my dad.

That night, Little O took a turn for the worse, and we ended up being rushed to CHOW on Sunday afternoon by ambulance so he could be re-admitted up there.  It was scary to be told your child was in a worse state than ever, just 24 hours after being discharged.  His stomach flu and dehydration had led to a critical inbalance of electrolytes, and everyone was very concerned.  It wasn't until later that I finally had time to sit and think about everything, but it scares me now to consider the possibilities of what could have happened if we hadn't taken him in again.  It's possible we could have lost him.

The doctors on-call up at CHOW told us they would not be releasing him until they were 100% sure he had fully recovered, which implied they felt the staff at All Saints hadn't done their jobs properly and had fixed the symptoms, not the cause.  Little O had blood drawn every hour until he screamed because his veins were so bruised and sore, and his diapers were weighed constantly to see how much fluid he was putting out.  The most frightening score I saw was his weight. Before he was ill, Little O had worked hard to get to 25lb; when he was admitted to All Saints, he had dropped to 22lb, and when they took an initial set of measurements at CHOW only a few days later, he was between 18 and 19lb.  For a little boy like that, losing 6lb is a scary, scary amount.  Most of it was fluid, which he put on again fairly quickly with the IV rehydration, but it's still a significant part of this whole ordeal.

When he started getting better properly, the doctors told me what they thought was going on.  Initially they suspected C. Difficile, which Little O had a few months ago, and we all had to wear protective gowns, masks, and gloves when he touched him.  (I didn't, because I'm his mother and I thought it was ridiculous to wear protection after changing dirty diapers for over a week with bare hands.)  Then those tests came back negative after 48 hours, which meant they settled on a diagnosis of several components:

1. Borderline compromised immune system
2. Catches stomach flu, like anyone else
3. Body can't fight off the flu easily because of the compromised immune system
4. Parents continue to feed liquid nutrition and fluids as instructed by healthcare staff
5. Body tries to absorb fluids but is also fighting off flu still
6. Fluids cannot be absorbed, so get 'washed out' of gut
7. As fluids pass through, they also wash out all the 'good' bacteria and enzymes, which cannot get a good grip because they body is still fighting the flu
8. No enzymes or bactera = no absorbtion = dehydration
9. Dehydration makes the diarrhea worse
10. Diarrhea makes the dehydration worse, which makes the diarrhea worse, which makes the dehydration worse... etc...

So, once Little O was discharged from All Saints and came home on a normal feeding routine again, his body actually couldn't cope and the dehydration got worse.  In order to break the cycle, all food and fluids had to be stopped, and Little O had to be maintained on IV fluids only.  It worked after 72 hours and we managed to get his body to accept small amounts of Pedialyte and formula again by Wednesday afternoon.  He was discharged late on Thursday, after being in the hospital for five days (eight, if you include All Saints).  He now has a different feeding plan altogether, and different liquid nutrition.  It seems to be working, although it's a shame the new formula is made by Nestle, because Nestle is evil.  I'm choosing my battles though, and have accepted this minor inconvenience because it's literally keeping my son alive.  Hopefully it's not forever and he can move onto something less annoying as he continues to recover.

So, I went back to work and things pottered along for a bit until Little O got his cast.  Remember that?  He's wearing a cast for 3-6 months to help improve his scoliosis, and then a brace for another 3-6 months to keep his spine in place as he grows.  The cast is incredibly heavy, and bright green.  It's also a bitch to keep clean, as it comes down very low on the back - almost to Little O's tailbone.  Because Little O has very loose poops anyway (which are further exacerbated by an overgrowth of bacteria in the small intestine, for which he is now on Flagyl for), the diapers cannot contain everything they need to.  We've had to actually change diaper brands from Target (cheap, and we've never had a problem with them) to Pampers (horrifically expensive) because they're smaller, lighter, and use a different system of keeping the contents of diapers in its place.  It's all very disgusting and technical, and it's such a colossal pain in the neck to deal with.  Changing diapers isn't particularly enjoyable at the best of times, but trying to change one that cannot be secured in the usual manner because there's a giant fucking plaster cast in the way just gets ridiculous.  Thankfully most of Little O's blowouts happen in the middle of the day, so the daycare staff have to deal with it more than we do.  Small mercies, right?

There's more to say but I'm all typed-out for now.  I shall endevour to provide another update shortly on the highs and lows of being back at work while juggling more freelance projects than I've ever had at any one time, and sinking further back into a grey depressive state (mmm... meds...), but for now I shall leave it here.  Little O is home, and healthy(-ish), and it's nearly Christmas.  I am thankful.

Tina.

Visitors

As ABBA once said, "I have been waiting for these visitors..."

I'm going to come back to the My Pookie Bear testimony soon, but there are some other things we must discuss first.

My Mum is out visiting at the moment, with D.  It was also my birthday last week (27... sigh...) and I was embarrassingly disappointed with the whole affair.  Since I was little, right up until recently, I have looked forward to my next birthday right after I got done with the last one.  However, for the last four years I have felt absolutely nothing.  No excitement, no anticipation, no nothing.  It's going to be incredibly selfish of me to say this, but ever since 2007 something has kind of stolen my thunder.  In 2007 I was forced to live in the UK while we waited for immigration paperwork to be processed, but my husband had no legal right to work over there so we spent the whole year (our first year of marriage) living in two different countries.  On my 24th birthday, therefore, I was sleeping on my sister's couch working as a credit-control temp for a food company, and it SUCKED.  In 2008 I was happily living in WI and took a week off in the summer for my birthday and for my family's visit, but I go so excited about them coming over that I completely forgot about my birthday and felt a bit weird on the day itself.  Same story in 2009, and exactly the same in 2010.  I'm so lucky that my family wants to come and visit me, but I wish we could spread things out a little.  I'd love for them to come over every year, but perhaps they could make it a week or two later next time?  I'd really like to celebrate with just my husband and Little O, and feel special about my birthday again.  I want to DO something... not feel like I have to entertain guests or watch my alcohol intake in front of my parents.  Maybe next year if they're back again, they can look after Little O for a weekend and my husband and I will bugger off and get pissed at a hotel somewhere.  I'm really not looking forward to asking my family about that though...

It's weird having my Mum here with D.  Admittedly he's helping to diffuse potentially hazardous situations, for which I am very grateful, but it's still strange watching their relationship.  For example, my Mum stopped kissing and hugging us goodnight when we were teenagers, but with D she makes sure they say a 'proper' goodnight... every night.  It's sweet and not inappropriate (he's gay, remember?), but it just strikes me as odd that she'll give him a hug and peck on the cheek before bed, but then turn to me and wave goodnight as she goes up the stairs.  I dunno.  Maybe this is all at D's request: not her's.  Maybe it makes her feel weird doing it in front of me too.  It's just that I don't have a great relationship with Mum on my own, and seeing her be comfortable and motherly to someone who isn't her child is... hmm... uncomfortable.

Another thing that's making me feel uncomfortable is how my Mum is around my son.  She clearly adores him and has frequently demanded to hold him or play with him, but she's never once offered to HELP with him.  I know he's a lot of work and that learning how to take care of him is a bit of a minefield, but even if I turned down the offer of help I'd still appreciate the gesture!  She has never once offered to feed him, change him, put him to bed, give him a bath, get him dressed, hold him while I deal with another crisis... nothing at all.  As far as she's concerned, she's his Grandma and her prerogative is to enjoy cuddles and playtime.  My in-laws, however, offer to do EVERYTHING.  They have been the most helpful, supportive grandparents for Little O, and I feel more confident in their abilities to take care of him in an emergency than anyone else.  Yes, they've seen him more often, and yes, they live considerably closer, but that's not it.  They're better with Little O because they WANT to be.  When we visit them they make sure we have everything we need to get comfortable, and they will happily and without complaint rearrange anything at all to fit around us.  They want to administer medications, feed him via g-tube, change diapers, give him his nebulizer, bathe him.  They're happy to do it because not only do they love him, but they realize how much pressure my husband and I are under and they want to help relieve it.  My Mum, on the other hand, wants to be treated like a guest.  So I have to run around cleaning up after her and D as well as all my usual Little O-related business.  It would just be nice for her to offer to change him when he's dirty, or feed him something tasty... just once.  That's all.  Because that's the kind of Grandma Little O needs.

Thanksfully my Dad is coming to visit in October and he's more like my in-laws.  He's happy to get stuck in there and help out as much as possible, so I'm looking forward to seeing him and trusting him to take care of his grandson.  I think he's a wonderful father and a brilliant Grandad.  I miss him a lot.

In other news, I got offered another copyediting project!  Thank FUCK for that!  I was beginning to think my publishers didn't love me anymore...

Tina.