I need a vacation from Spring Break

Yep. If I don’t post at least once every, say, oh. . . two months or so. What? The average is every seven months you say? Okay. Well, at least the gaps are getting smaller.

The past week has been hell around here. Worst spring break EVER! Last Thursday, Val had a little procedure done. No, not that procedure: we took care of that after Riley was born. This was, well, no delicate way to put this, Rectal Surgery (cue dramatic music). Specifically, a hemorrhoidectomy. (No that’s really what it’s called! I thought it would have a different, more scientific-y name, but no. Just what you would call it if you didn’t know what the procedure was called and were making up a name. All that’s missing is the word “thingy” after it.) It was a long time coming. After 4 years of misery, with the last year and a half being almost unbearable, he decided it was time to do this. It is not a pleasant surgery and the recovery time is, well, slow and uncomfortable, as you can probably imagine. On top of the usual recovery issues (oh use your imagination, fer cryin’ out loud!), he seems to have come down with some kind of virus and is feeling like he has the flu. Now I don’t mind any of this. Really. After all, I do have a nurturing personality and therefore have a constant need to make people feel better. I don’t mind getting him food, drinks, pain meds, any of that. Actually, he’s been a pretty easy patient as far as that stuff goes. After the first couple of days he was getting around without my help and doing most of that stuff for himself. Except, you know, getting food. He has never done that so nothing different there (sigh). He has to have four sitz baths a day and he’s getting kind of tired of that. Anyway, the point is, I don’t mind helping out. I am, however, getting extremely tired of seeing my husband so miserable. After a week, he is still sore, sick and pretty darn grumpy. I’ll be glad when things are back to normal and he feels good again. Because, we love him, but the grumpiness? Yeah. That’s gotta go.

On top of this, I’ve been babysitting all week which is kind of difficult because my whole routine is off, what with the whole family here and underfoot. To be fair, the kids have helped out a ton and the babies love them so it’s actually been easier as far as that goes, but it’s so crowded here and Val has been sleeping a lot in our room which is where I put Tyler down for a nap so, like I said, the routine has suffered. Then, THEN, on Wednesday, Travis kept complaining that he wasn’t feeling well. Mostly his stomach wasn’t feeling good. We have had issues with Travis’s stomach before, so I was like, okay, we know what is isn’t, let’s wait and see what happens. He felt worse towards evening and went to bed late. I also went to bed late and then Riley woke me up at about 12:30, after I’d been asleep about an hour and a half, saying her throat hurt and could she go downstairs on the couch. The couch was currently being occupied by her father, who came up to bed so that she could have the sofa. He was restless and I couldn’t get back to sleep. Then, at around 2 a.m., Travis came in our room and said he “thought” he had diarrhea. Uh, yeah. To say the least. I sent him into the bathroom to get cleaned up and then got him back into bed with a barf bucket, which he ultimately ignored because, guess what. Half an hour later I heard, “Mom!” and he had thrown up in his bed. He had also had another bout of the big D so I put him into the shower while I changed his bedding and started a load of laundry. The rest of the night is a blur of puke, poop, Lysol, Clorox wipes and laundry which ultimately ended up with Travis on the couch, me in the chair and everyone else in their respective beds. Val had come back down to the living room at around three and found Riley eating a bowl of cereal and watching “Leprechaun” on tv. Yes, that movie. (Why yes, I do have excellent parenting skills. Why do you ask?) Val sent her back up to bed and took over the couch until I booted him back upstairs so that I could put Trav there to make it easier for me to keep an eye on him. I think Travis went through five pairs of underwear that night. Truthfully? I threw them away because I’d rather buy new undies than wash that stuff out. (You’d do the same, I promise.) Anyway, I felt so sorry for him. He was so exhausted and would fall asleep only to be woken up a few minutes later by either his bowels or me making him go to the bathroom. And he was so good-natured about the whole thing. He’d come out of the bathroom with a smile on his face, saying, “Mom? I think I’m done now. I really think it’s all over!” Towards the end there, he really got punchy and, once, when I tried to go in the bathroom to help him, he pushed me out the door and said, “Be gone, Woman!” Then, by 7 a.m, he was magically better and feeling just fine. I, on the other hand, was a bag of crap. An hour and a half of sleep doesn’t go very far. I only had Marie for half a day yesterday (Tyler’s dad decided to keep him home because of all the carnage here) and when she went home, I officially checked out for the day. I will say though, that I think all of my obsessive applications of Lysol and Clorox paid off: no one else has come down with the stomach bug. I’m still exhausted, though and plan to catch up on sleep this weekend. Or, you know, that’s the plan anyway. We’ll see.

Travis’s Worst Day Ever

Remember me talking about all those events that were blogworthy? Here’s one of them.

A week before Christmas, Travis started complaining about nausea and stomach pains. Actually, that started a couple of months ago, but when we took him to the doctor he couldn’t find anything specific wrong with him. I, of course, began suspecting the worst: ulcer, blocked intestinal tract, kidney failure. You know, all that “glass-half-empty” stuff I’m famous for. Anyway, at this point, the stomach stuff had gotten a little worse and when I picked him up from school on that Wednesday, he complained of a stomachache. He obviously didn’t feel well and went from the door to the sofa and didn’t move until bedtime. He got into bed and then had to go throw up. “Great,” I thought, “More puking. Bring it on, I’m ready!” But he didn’t throw up again. The next morning he was running a low-grade fever and said he felt worse. I took Riley to school and when I got back Trav told me he hurt down on the lower right side of his belly. Could it be. . . appendicitis? I went upstairs and told Val to get dressed because we were going to Quick Care. They poked and prodded him, took some blood and then sent us to Gritman for a CT scan. The doctor told him not to worry, the CT scan was just like a big donut that would take a picture of his insides. Oh, they forgot to mention the enema!!! And the IV. Which they said wouldn’t hurt but of course did. Trav was a trooper, though, and when it was over the doctor came and told us that they were admitting him and he was going in for immediate surgery because, apparently, his appendix had ruptured. Crap. Upstairs. More doctors. More poking and prodding. More things going into the IV which weren’t supposed to hurt but did. I finally said something and the nurse put some Lidocaine in the IV before whatever else went in to numb the stinging. Oh, and then a Tylenol suppository. More things poked up his butt. At one point, Travis looked up at me and said miserably, “This is my worst day ever!” Poor little guy.

The surgery was quick, about 45 minutes, during which Val went and picked up Riley from school. Note: Yes, we went to Quick Care at around 8:30 am but by the time a dozen doctors poked and prodded and then sent us elsewhere to get yet another test and more poking ad prodding and not to mention waiting in the godforsaken wating room of the radiology department of the hospital, by the time they actually got around to doing the actual surgery, it was almost 3 in the afternoon. On the way back to the hospital, Val told Riley what was going on and that her brother was getting his appendix taken out. They got back and after a little while a nurse came and got us to bring us into recovery. Travis was still pretty much under the anesthetic and looked horrible. Riley crept up to him and said to me, “Mom? Did Travis get his index out?” Yes baby, but they left in the Table of Contents.

The surgery went well and the recovery was good. They brought in an X-box (yay!) and told him he could probably go home the next day. More lies. The next day the surgeon came in and said “Maybe tomorrow”. Travis was disappointed. The next day he came in again and said, “One more day.” Travis cried. Three and a half days after the surgery, they finally let him go home. He’s been doing great, though he still winces when he sneezes.

Third Time’s a Charm!

Okay. Then if you still don’t succeed, wait another four months or so and then get your ass in gear and get moving!

Honestly. I think about this blog all the time. As in, “I need to write this on my blog. Um, if I were actually doing my blog, that is.” That sort of thing. I set this thing up a year and a half ago and wrote a few times. I wasn’t really happy with it, because the perfectionist in me never is. There was also the issue of the mechanics of the thing. We still had dial-up and every time I tried to change anything I crashed and it just got too frustrating so I abandoned it. Then, last spring, in a fit of inspiration, and after finally getting high-speed internet, I came back in and just deleted the other blog and started over again. Whew, that was so exhausting that I had to leave it for the next four months and here I am. Don’cha just love do-overs? I do. And when I finally get the hang of doing this, I might actually let people read it!

It’s been an interesting week around here. I started the whole thing off on Sunday. I was feeling sort of queasy all day and by bedtime I was decidedly nauseous. I went to bed and laid there, miserable, for the next three hours or so, trying to sleep but just tossing and turning and feeling worse by the minute. I finally went downstairs and ended up spending the night going between the recliner and the sofa and the bathroom. I finally fell asleep sometime between 2:30 and 4:30 when I woke up for good. My sides hurt from throwing up and I was exhausted.

After Val and the kids left, I laid around in a daze until I had to go get Riley from Kindergarten and the rest of the day is a blur. I think we had cereal for dinner that night because I couldn’t manage anything else. I felt shaky on Tuesday, but definitely better. Then, right before bedtime, Riley started complaining that her tummy hurt. Half an hour later she puked all over the living room carpet. I was upstairs getting towels to prepare for the inevitable so Val got to supervise. Did I mention he doesn’t do so well when the kids are sick? He held it together, though, and did bravely hold her hair out of her face so that she wouldn’t puke on it. BIG help. Oh, I forgot to mention that my little Miss Picky Eater eschewed the casserole we had for dinner and chose instead yogurt and raspberries. A lot of raspberries. The carpet was beautiful. Technicolor pink. She continued to throw up about every 45 minutes or so, all night long. I set her up on the couch and had my little “sick station”: puke bucket, cool washcloth (set on a saucer so as not to ruin the finish on the brand new coffee table Val made), hand towel (in case we need it), hand sanitizer (like it makes any difference at this point), dish of ice chips and laptop so that I could cruise the ‘net in between bouts of sickness. I was a long night, but I found some killer craft sites and blogs!

Poor Ri. I felt so sorry for her. When she first started getting sick she was panicked, anticipating the horror of actually throwing up. After the first time, she kind of got the hang of it and calmly, bravely, grimly did what she needed to do. Throughout the night she’d be sleeping soundly and then suddenly rouse and sit up. I’d place the tub in front of her and she’d be sick in it, then allow me to sponge her off, accept an ice chip and lay back down and go back to sleep. She broke my heart. There’s nothing worse than when your kids are sick. She finally stopped throwing up around 4 am and I laid down beside her and slept for about two hours.

Needless to say, I was a bag of crap the next day, this being the second night in three with no sleep. I don’t nap well, so I didn’t catch up much. All seemed well on Thursday. Riley was back to normal and I was feeling really tired, but my stomach didn’t hurt any more. Bed time came around and Travis started complaining that his stomach hurt. I was completely spent. I went downstairs with him and told Val that I needed him to take this one. I couldn’t do another all-nighter. I think he was thinking it was a false alarm anyway, that maybe Travis was trying to get out of school the next day, so he agreed. I went to bed but didn’t sleep very well, too consumed with Mother-guilt. I kept thinking that I needed to be the one down there with him. I slept intermittently and not well at all. I finally gave it up at around 5 and went downstairs to relieve Val, who was crunched up alongside Trav on the sofa. By this time, Val wasn’t feeling well either and he went to bed. I sat watching tv until it was time to get Riley up and ready for school. Around 7, Rachel called to ask if it was okay if Daniel hang out with me because he had been throwing up all night. I just started laughing. “Sure,” I said, “Send him over. Travis is sick too. They can be miserable together.” After all, the poor kid probably caught it from us in the first place, it was the least I could do.

After I got Ri off to school, I came home to my houseful of sick boys. Travis was excited at first at the idea of Daniel coming over on a school day. “Can we play video games?” he asked. “Why not?” I replied, thinking that that would be a great way to quietly waste the day away. But after about fifteen minutes of playing, Travis laid down on the floor. “I feel wobbly,” he said. I felt his forehead. Hot. Crap. I found the thermometer. 103.7. I should explain that Travis very rarely has a low grade fever. It’s usually 104 or nothing. He climbed onto the couch, we put a movie in and he was asleep. Val never came downstairs again until last night, so it was just me and the Dan Man. We watched ALL of the Star Wars movies we have (episodes IV through VI). I felt like my whole body had been run through a wringer. So exhausted I wanted to cry. But nowhere to really get comfortable. Travis was on the couch, Daniel in the recliner and Val in our bed. I wandered all day. By the time Daniel went home at 4, my throat was starting to hurt and I just wanted to sleep, but I was determined to be the nurturing mother figure so I made the Magic Chicken Soup that seems to have healing powers. No one felt like eating it, including me. By 7, Travis’s fever had broken and he was feeling better. Both he and Val managed to eat some scrambled eggs and toast and then the kids and I went to bed. Today has to be better!