Death Would be a Welcomed Relief!

Ok, so maybe that's a bit over-board, but as of Sunday night, that's what I was thinking.

I woke up Sunday morning to a 7 year old complaining about not feeling well and having a sore throat, only to find out he was running a fever. So, like any good mommy, I gave him some Motrin, settled him on the couch with a bottle of water and his 'just in case he throws up' bowl, then went back to bed - it was 6:45 on a Sunday morning! Then without any warning whatsoever, my body started to ache. The ache progressively got worse and by 10AM, it was full-blown pain! Michael allowed me to stay in bed for a bit, then take a bath in hopes that the achy feeling would subside, but by 4PM, I was in tears and begging to be put out of my misery. I'd spent the better part of the day sleeping off & on on the couch, doing my best to find that comfortable spot that didn't seem to exist. By this point, I'd taken my fair-share of Tylenol and Motrin, with very little relief, and had managed to drink 1/2 a bottle of water and eat 2 pieces of toast.

Then it came to me...I was sick!! Then another thought struck me...Mommies can't get sick!! Then, yet another thought penetrated my tired brain...I was going to be left by myself, with 1 sick child and 2 healthy children on Monday, and I WAS SICK!!!!! This is where begging ensued...me begging Michael to please call his mother to see if she could help out - and thankfully she did :) She arrived yesterday, right before lunch, loaded up the 2 healthy, very bored kiddos and left. She even offered to keep them overnight, which ended up working well for me since I had to take Alex to his pediatrician today.

When we arrived at the doctor's office, Alex was very insistent that he felt 'much better' and his throat was just fine. The funny part was that while making his claims, the poor kid had a hard time forcing down his breakfast and his tonsils were protruding from his neck. We we arrived at his pediatrician, I begged her to stick that giant Q-tip down my throat like she did to him, much to his dismay, because I was absolutely convinced that I probably had strep, which I've never had in my entire life! She said she couldn't, but when Alex's strep test came back "very positive", she gave me a prescription for an antibiotic because she said that she's positive that I have it too. So, what I thought was the flu with a bad sore throat turned out to be a really bad case of strep - or so we think anyway.

I've only had 1 dose of the antibiotic, but I'm already feeling a tad bit better. Still not myself and functioning at 100%, but I had enough energy this afternoon to strip the strep-laden sheets off of our bed and wash them :) Gotta love clean sheets, right?

I guess that if I really wanted to find something positive in this, I could say that I've probably lost a little weight since I haven't eaten more than 4 pieces of toast in 2 days...but I guess that might be stretching it a bit, wouldn't you say?!?

ER's, IV's, CT's and MOPS

Yesterday morning, at precisely 5:45AM, I woke up to a pain that I can only describe as feeling like I had been stabbed. It was excruciating and I could barely talk. I had to hit Michael a few times until he finally woke up enough for me to beg him to pray. I had no idea what was wrong, but I knew it was bad because breathing was a painful process. I couldn't sit, stand, or lie down. For those of you that are mommies and have experienced a contraction, think back to what it felt like before you got drugs, with no let-up in between - it was like having 1 solid, never-ending contraction. I was miserable and sobbing, and poor Michael had no idea how to help. After 45 minutes of him insisting that we go to the ER, I finally gave in when it became apparent that the pain wasn't going to just go away. He was very worried that it might be my appendix because of the location of the pain, while I was just worried about either passing out or throwing up because of the agony. So at 7AM, with kids up & dressed (thanks in no part to me), he scooted the kids to our next door neighbor, then helped me into the van.

We raced to the local stand-alone ER where my sister works where they ran a quick urinalysis to determine that I was indeed not pregnant - Michael turned pale when the nurse mentioned the possibility. He then informed us that if we were to stay there for further testing, only to find out that the problem was my appendix, they'd have to send me over to the hospital where they would run all of the same tests again. The reason? We're cash-paying patients, so they can't transfer all of my records. The result? Two ER visits, with the exact same tests, resulting in the exact same charges!! Uugghh!!! After a quick 'look' between Michael & myself, we decided to just play-it-safe by going directly to the hospital. Thankfully, my sister suggested we go to a new, nearby hospital/ER because she'd heard several people say that they hadn't waited long to be seen. Quick? Sounded go to me - who was still in serious agony!

So, after a quick 15 minute drive, we walked into a completely empty ER waiting room, signed in, were triaged, taken directly to a room, seen by a doctor, hooked up to an IV and given pain meds, all within an hour - yes, an hour!!! Not sure what ER's are like in other parts of the country, but here, it's standard practice to wait at least 6 hours in the waiting room. Anyway, the pain meds took the edge off of the pain, but I laid on the gurney, very uncomfortably for about an hour and a half before being taken for a CAT scan - my first. Thankfully, I didn't have to drink that awful barium drink that I remember my mother having to drink (and subsequently, throw up) before each CAT scan she underwent. I was sure that if I had to drink, then subsequently throw up, that stuff, I would indeed die - I had one of those tickles in my throat that I couldn't clear, and coughing hard enough to clear it would cause spots and blur my vision, so the prospect of wretching my gutts up caused me great distress.

Anyway, the CAT scan took about 5 minutes, then they returned me to my room where we waited for another 30 minutes for the doctor to return with the results. The results? A 'complex ovarian cyst'. Yes, a cyst - something that I've had more times than I can count, but the worst that I've ever had! So, my discharge instructions were given, a prescription for Vicodin included, then I got a quick shot...of morphine - wew-hoo!!...into my IV tube before the tape was ripped from my arm (OUCH!).

After making a stop at the pharmacy, then another stop at a local fast-food spot for take-home hot dogs, we arrived home, I ate 1 dog, then headed straight to bed. There, I tossed & turned, grimaced & moaned, and rested-fitfully until 6PM. When I woke up, my first thought was feeding the kids, which I knew I wasn't capable of doing. When I inquired of Michael as to whether he'd given any thought to what he might give them, he informed me that my neighbor and fellow MOPS friend had provided spaghetti & bread. What a humongous blessing!!!

Tonight? Another MOPS friend provided us with a yummy chicken enchilada dish, complete w/ rice & beans and tortilla chips. And, yes tomorrow night is taken care of too!!! Have I ever mentioned how grateful I am for my MOPS group? These ladies are amazing!!!! Whenever someone is in need, our group is quick to pull together to help, whether it is meals, childcare, transportation, or just prayer. I'm always very happy to pitch in to do my part, but it's a completely different thing to be on the receiving end. It's humbling, and yet I'm so very thankful for what God has provided for us. To know that the family is being fed when I cannot stand in the kitchen to prepare a meal, it's absolutely awesome!

Anyway, today I'm feeling better, but only slightly. I no longer feel that I have a knife wound, but I am still very sore and tired. I've had a hard time just laying around, so I did attempt to vacuum, but only succeeded in getting 1/2 of the living room done - Michael scolded me, then said he'd finish the other 1/2 :) The rest of my day has consisted of sitting, then standing, then sitting, then standing some more, taking a shower, then a bath, then sitting a little more. I'm tired of sitting, but should probably enjoy it while I can, huh?

ER's, IV's, CT's and MOPS

Yesterday morning, at precisely 5:45AM, I woke up to a pain that I can only describe as feeling like I had been stabbed. It was excruciating and I could barely talk. I had to hit Michael a few times until he finally woke up enough for me to beg him to pray. I had no idea what was wrong, but I knew it was bad because breathing was a painful process. I couldn't sit, stand, or lie down. For those of you that are mommies and have experienced a contraction, think back to what it felt like before you got drugs, with no let-up in between - it was like having 1 solid, never-ending contraction. I was miserable and sobbing, and poor Michael had no idea how to help. After 45 minutes of him insisting that we go to the ER, I finally gave in when it became apparent that the pain wasn't going to just go away. He was very worried that it might be my appendix because of the location of the pain, while I was just worried about either passing out or throwing up because of the agony. So at 7AM, with kids up & dressed (thanks in no part to me), he scooted the kids to our next door neighbor, then helped me into the van.

We raced to the local stand-alone ER where my sister works where they ran a quick urinalysis to determine that I was indeed not pregnant - Michael turned pale when the nurse mentioned the possibility. He then informed us that if we were to stay there for further testing, only to find out that the problem was my appendix, they'd have to send me over to the hospital where they would run all of the same tests again. The reason? We're cash-paying patients, so they can't transfer all of my records. The result? Two ER visits, with the exact same tests, resulting in the exact same charges!! Uugghh!!! After a quick 'look' between Michael & myself, we decided to just play-it-safe by going directly to the hospital. Thankfully, my sister suggested we go to a new, nearby hospital/ER because she'd heard several people say that they hadn't waited long to be seen. Quick? Sounded go to me - who was still in serious agony!

So, after a quick 15 minute drive, we walked into a completely empty ER waiting room, signed in, were triaged, taken directly to a room, seen by a doctor, hooked up to an IV and given pain meds, all within an hour - yes, an hour!!! Not sure what ER's are like in other parts of the country, but here, it's standard practice to wait at least 6 hours in the waiting room. Anyway, the pain meds took the edge off of the pain, but I laid on the gurney, very uncomfortably for about an hour and a half before being taken for a CAT scan - my first. Thankfully, I didn't have to drink that awful barium drink that I remember my mother having to drink (and subsequently, throw up) before each CAT scan she underwent. I was sure that if I had to drink, then subsequently throw up, that stuff, I would indeed die - I had one of those tickles in my throat that I couldn't clear, and coughing hard enough to clear it would cause spots and blur my vision, so the prospect of wretching my gutts up caused me great distress.

Anyway, the CAT scan took about 5 minutes, then they returned me to my room where we waited for another 30 minutes for the doctor to return with the results. The results? A 'complex ovarian cyst'. Yes, a cyst - something that I've had more times than I can count, but the worst that I've ever had! So, my discharge instructions were given, a prescription for Vicodin included, then I got a quick shot...of morphine - wew-hoo!!...into my IV tube before the tape was ripped from my arm (OUCH!).

After making a stop at the pharmacy, then another stop at a local fast-food spot for take-home hot dogs, we arrived home, I ate 1 dog, then headed straight to bed. There, I tossed & turned, grimaced & moaned, and rested-fitfully until 6PM. When I woke up, my first thought was feeding the kids, which I knew I wasn't capable of doing. When I inquired of Michael as to whether he'd given any thought to what he might give them, he informed me that my neighbor and fellow MOPS friend had provided spaghetti & bread. What a humongous blessing!!!

Tonight? Another MOPS friend provided us with a yummy chicken enchilada dish, complete w/ rice & beans and tortilla chips. And, yes tomorrow night is taken care of too!!! Have I ever mentioned how grateful I am for my MOPS group? These ladies are amazing!!!! Whenever someone is in need, our group is quick to pull together to help, whether it is meals, childcare, transportation, or just prayer. I'm always very happy to pitch in to do my part, but it's a completely different thing to be on the receiving end. It's humbling, and yet I'm so very thankful for what God has provided for us. To know that the family is being fed when I cannot stand in the kitchen to prepare a meal, it's absolutely awesome!

Anyway, today I'm feeling better, but only slightly. I no longer feel that I have a knife wound, but I am still very sore and tired. I've had a hard time just laying around, so I did attempt to vacuum, but only succeeded in getting 1/2 of the living room done - Michael scolded me, then said he'd finish the other 1/2 :) The rest of my day has consisted of sitting, then standing, then sitting, then standing some more, taking a shower, then a bath, then sitting a little more. I'm tired of sitting, but should probably enjoy it while I can, huh?

New Blog Address!

Well, since my friends & family have voiced their opinions about the new blog versus the old blog, I think I've decided to make the switch! I'm moving, so please note (and update) my new blog address: www.chaoticadventures.wordpress.com. I've also linked the address to the new blog, so feel free to come on over!!! Don't dessert me just because I'm moving on...we can still be friends, right?

I'm Indecisive Too!

Giving props where props are due...I stole the title of this post from Notes on a Napkin.

Ok, so I've been going crazy trying to set-up a "test blog" at Wordpress, but it's driving me nuts. Take a look and let me know what you think! What I'm not liking about Wordpress is the photo upload capability. Though you can upload photos, it seems to limit the size - and it's very cumbersome to do. If I had a reason to change from Blogger, it would be the fact that the template was so easy to customize and change to fit my desires, unlike the Blogger templates that are already set-up and require that you know how to write code (which I think is HTML) to change. I do not know how to write code and neither does my local in-house geek, which leaves me stuck with whatever Blogger gives me. I like flexibility, which Wordpress seems to have. Well, until it comes to modifying your font and font size - haven't figured that out either! But whichever forum I choose, it needs to be stupid-proof, and I'm not sure that Wordpress is... Anyway, thanks to Katrina for enlightening my blogging horizons :)

Find a Cure!

Are you aware that October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month?

As many of you know, I lost my mother, Shirley Vanzant, to breast cancer more than 5 years ago, so to me, awareness is everything. But being aware isn't enough; we need to be proactive in prevention and early detection. If you haven't done so already, go here to make a donation to help find a cure for this awful disease that affects approximately 120 in 100,000 women annually*. If you know of someone that has been affected by breast cancer, you can make the donation in her honor or memory. If you are blessed enough to not know someone that has had to fight this disease, but want to donate anyway, it would be an honor for you to do so in my mother's memory. And, while you're there, read the latest information on early detection and prevention. Learn something, then pass it along to the women in your life! And, while you're at it, make a point to click here daily. Doing so could mean the difference between life & death for a needy woman!

*Statistic found at www.komen.org

She's Finally Here!

From the sounds of the title, you'd think I was speaking of a baby...well, she is my baby if you consider she's only 6 weeks old :) I've named her Mia Joy - we'll stick with calling her Mia (pronounced Me-uh). Mia means "mine" - which she most definitely is - and Joy speaks for itself. So, here's hoping that she will be the sweetest little puppy that every lived - my joy!

Deep, Dark Secret

Ok, so I have a confession...I am not a neat-nick! There, I've said it!!! I feel so much better :) Well, sort of, anyway. Ok, so that statement isn't necessarily true - I do like things to be cleaned and in their place, but I do not enjoy being the one that does it. I would much rather pay someone else to do it for me, thus the reason I so loved my Valentine's Day gift this last February. Anyway, I tend to just turn a blind eye to clutter, until it suddenly bugs me so badly that I cannot think of anything else. This sends me into a cleaning fit, whereby things suddenly start to disappear - right into the trash!

Here, let me give you a small glimpse into my world - our upstairs playroom:

Here is the before. Notice that there is very little floor showing through the toys scattered here & there. This room as been in this condition for 2 cleanings - or 4 weeks. I know what you're thinking, but please don't say it. I thought the same thing every time I passed by, but it was so much easier to simply pull the door closed, or to tell guests at Ian's birthday party last weekend to simply "stay downstairs". I've been very well intentioned over the last month, telling myself each & every Tuesday or Thursday that I must clean the playroom, but there was always something else to do, which left the playroom as last on my to-do list. Do I dare admit that even the kids wouldn't enter this room for fear of impaling themselves on a stray Lego or Kinex? (I was going to take more thorough pictures, but I couldn't get into the room without hurting myself, so these were taken from the doorway - really, really sad, I know!)

And, here is the after. A mere 2 1/2 hours later, and our playroom is now 'playable' again. Generally when cleaning upstairs, I require the kids to help. But, in order to do any real cleaning (which means that I can actually get rid of months & year's worth of broken kid's meal toys and junk), I must be left alone. When I try to throw things out with the kids nearby, my trash bag inevitably ends up empty and the broken toys end up back in the bins! Notice the 2 trash bags standing near the couch? One is full and over-flowing, the other is about 1/2 full, and awaiting the next room on the agenda. Now, the trick will be to keep it cleaned! Otherwise, I will be at this again in about 2 months, and I'm sure that's a very positive estimate on my part.

Ah! I feel much better after getting that off of my chest :) Now, on to Morgann's room...