Various Topics

As you may know (if you're a follower of my blog), I had a cystectomy on my tail bone in March. It was not a joyous experience, but it wasn't as bad as I imagined either.

Post-surgery, I thought I was very well-behaved, taking it easy for about a week, doing not much of anything (thanks to my amazing husband who was daddy, mommy, housewife, and provider all week), and then light activity for a few weeks after. I went for a few post-op visits and everything "appeared" to be fine.

So, I was disgraced and saddened when I realized that, in fact, it was not healing properly. I've been back to the surgeon a few times, and up until this past week, he didn't seem very concerned, which annoyed me and my husband. Following this last appointment, he verified that the incision site isn't really healing that well. In fact, as gruesome as this sounds, there's a hole in it. Sweet. NO wonder it's been uncomfortable and painful, among other things, ever since. So, he gave us a few instructions to helpfully help it actually heal, and I go back in a month or so.

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Lately, our little family is less financially stable than we used to be. I've been blaming myself for this a lot, especially since I make much less doing in-home daycare than I did doing center-based daycare, which was also less than teaching preschool, which was definitely less than social/community work. Ah!

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Today, I took Spencer to the park, by myself. He and I have been to the park with Jake or Jillian and the daycare kids before, but never alone. It was a wonderful experience! I had him in the baby swing, and got to talking to another mommy there, whose baby is just three days older than Spencer. So we were comparing stories and stuff. It was pretty cool. He used the swing, then one of those bouncy/rocking sit-on toys (a duck, actually) until he bonked his face on the handlebars (I was holding him, and he still did it... whoops), and then we went on the play equiptment and played with the tic-tac-toe board thing for a while, and then back to the swing, together, then the toddler swing, then the baby swing. Then we played in the grass with toys. It hit me, while playing in the grass, that I was AT THE PARK with my BABY. I'd spent years driving or walking by parks and seeing mommies and their babies and children and I would just pray that some day I would get to take my baby to a park. And I WAS AT THE PARK WITH MY BABY. I almost started sobbing pure joy. It was overwhelming. I didn't have to wish anymore, I was living that dream! Ah! Pure bliss!

Then we went for an hour long walk, and came back and sat on the step with the dog watching the cars go by. Both Spencer and the dog like cars.

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Spencer surprised me today and scooted five or so feet on his bottom and got the dog food bag. Didn't eat any, but was sure excited about his find.

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My brother, who is 19 now, but my youngest brother, is in the National Guard. Right now, he's training in MN to be deployed to Kuwait for a month, followed by Iraq for a year. The send-off celebration is this coming Friday, in Minnesota. I don't know how to prepare myself, emotionally and mentally, for the event. I try not to think about it too much. It's funny though, because I'm not really scared he will die overseas... but that the events will change him and we won't know him like we do now. He's one of the most easy-going, funny guys I know, and I don't want him to lose that part of himself. I know he'll change, but I hope he comes back and we still know him, if that makes sense. Of course, I'm also concerned for his safety, but I trust that God will be watching over him.

Another thing that gets me about the entire situation is that, with the exception of a short pass in July that I just found out he'll have, before actually being deployed, I will not see him for over a year. In a year's time, Spencer will be walking (I assume) and talking (a bit, hopefully), and be a little boy, not just a baby. He'll be nothing like Bryan knows of him now. That's crazy! And you never know, there's always a chance that Spencer would have a sibling on the way by the time he comes back. He was in training/camp this fall when Spencer was born... and it's just... hard to wrap my mind around, I guess.

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Anyway, the movie "Seven Pounds" is playing in the living room, and I should get to watching it, because it is almost to the area in which I fell asleep watching it last night (sorry about that, Jake, I had no idea I was so tired).

There goes my hero...

The Foo Fighters have this awesome song that my husband just loves. It's called "My Hero." There are various sources that say this song is a tribute to Kurt Cobain, but then others say that's made up, so who knows. It doesn't really matter for the point of my post, anyway. Moving on... It's a pretty fantastic song. I enjoy it quite a bit too. Of course, as is the case with most songs, I prefer the acoustic version. Here's a youtube video of it for those who'd like to listen.

Naturally, since Jake loves the song so much, when I hear the opening, I automatically think of him. However, over time, it's really become a song to me that is about him. Truthfully.

As I mentioned in my last blog, I had surgery last week to remove a cyst on my tail bone.

My husband has been absolutely wonderful. He not only took me in for surgery and brought me home, but has been working really hard for me to heal.

That means that he's been doing most of the chores and taking care of the baby. Yes, he's basically taken on my role while I'm home, and also his own while he's home, and even went to work yesterday to make sure we would have funds to get us by. He's been working really, really hard.

I don't know how to tell him properly that I appreciate his dedication and loyalty, his love and compassion, and his selflessness as much as I really do. I used to feel like I was quite a linguist, but then I realize that my emotions don't always line up with words as well as I'd like... meaning, words aren't as meaningful as I'd hoped. I've given gifts and planned dates or outings for us in the past to show appreciation, but that doesn't always cut it either.

Maybe I'll let him take a nice long nap. Haha.

Seriously though, he's been the biggest blessing this week.

I haven't been able to move well, sit against my back, bend, and lift things. So, while I feel I've been neglecting Spencer, Jake has really been there. He has given most every bottle, baby food meal, every bath, changed nearly every diaper, picked him up almost every time he was sad, and he has gotten up every single time in the middle of the night, except once last night, because I was up and felt like I could manage.

That's right. Wednesday night, Thursday night, Friday night, and Saturday night... every time Spencer woke, except once.

For the record, Spencer hasn't been a real peach the past few nights, either. It turns out, after Jake took him into acute care this morning, he has another ear infection. That explains the various fevers and waking up screaming multiple times in the night.

I must confess, had it been me getting up every night like that, I can't honestly, with 100% certainty say that I wouldn't have let a comment like this slipped through my lips at some point... something like... "Ugh, I'm just so tired since I've had to get up every time."

I wouldn't have even meant for it to be a slam against Jake, but thinking about it, I'm sure he would feel that way, had I said that.

I can say with 100% certainty, however, that he has not once complained about all the extra work he's been putting in around the house, for me to heal. (Or, if he has, I haven't heard it.) He also hasn't said that I have to get up every single time once I'm completely healed for the same number of nights that he's done it for me. I know I wouldn't say that to him (or mean it if I did say it jokingly, as I really might jokingly throw it out there), but I wouldn't blame him for saying it to me.

That's is FANTASTIC.

He has helped me shower. He's helped me put on pants. Helped me put on socks. Helped me put on shoes. Helped me walk, helped me stand up and sit down. And he's made most of the meals... including warming up those that were given to us and serving them.

Yesterday, he worked. I know I whined a few times to him about how hard it was to be at home with sick Spencer, alone, in pain, unable to take my meds, unable to care for him to the "perfection" I try to attain regularly... and yet, when he got home last night, the first thing he said is "You can drug yourself and sleep now."

So selfless.

This morning, he got up early to shower, and take Spencer to the doctor, and is now at church for both services. Spencer is at the church nursery. We weren't sure I should be trying to lift the car seat into the big suburban and then get in it and drive myself, since I can't lean against this tube and it feels like it's pulling and it's painful when I stretch too bad... so I'm home completely alone for the first time since the surgery. I thought it a great opportunity to write this tribute before I go lie down again (because the pain medications are still making me dizzy and woozy).

I am so impressed. I am so grateful. I am SO FORTUNATE that Jake has been here for me.

He really is my hero. He has been in the past for all the small reasons... this is just another, a bigger reason, that he remains my hero.

"There goes my hero, watch him as he goes. There goes my hero, he's ordinary. Kudos my hero, leaving all the best..."

I love you, Jacob (because I know you'll read this).

Sliced, like turkey.

Well... surgery was performed, and apparently with success, as I am sitting here typing this for anyone who wants to read.

This past Wednesday, promptly at 9:30 am, we arrived at the surgical tower for check-in. Following visits from various nurses, anasthetisoligicistslicsitlistuilss (i.e. anesthesiologists, but I let my fingers get away from me and decided against using the backspace key), and the surgeon, they hooked me up to an IV and got me all gussied up (in a hospital gown, robe, and giant, gray, no-slip socks) for the procedure.

Spencer made quite a few friends throughout the day, let me just say. Basically anyone who works at the hospital and came in the room got smiles from him, talked to him, complimented him (or us, whomever you prefer to interpret the compliments for) on his eyes and cuteness, and some even got to hold him.

Anyway. I was nervous. I sat there in my pretty attire with Jake and Spencer as we waited for me to be escorted to the procedure room. It was crazy to walk into that freezing cold room, get up on the bed, have the nurse tell me she was going to inject the anesthesia into my IV, and basically be out. I remember them covering me with some warm blankets because it was super cold.. and I think they were asking me about my dog? I am not entirely sure. This was promptly at 11:00am.

Fast forward... and I wake, every so groggily in a recovery room and see that the clock reads 12:48pm. Nice. My back hurt and my throat hurt and my eyes were totally hazy as they asked me if I knew where I was. I drifted in and out of consciousness for a few minutes before they asked me to rate my pain, and offered me some ice chips (delightful, I tell you what), a cracker, and some pain medications.

Boy, trying to choke down that cracker was a real treat. I thought for sure I might choke on it and die. My throat and mouth were SO dry I couldn't even produce saliva to wet it down, so it just coated the inside of my mouth and throat as I hacked it up waiting for more liquids. After I finally got that down... they wheeled me into yet another recovery room where I was finally able to see my husband and son. Well, sort of, as they had me facing the opposite side of the room as they had them sitting on. Nice planning, right?

After some apple juice, some toast (that I again had to try to choke down, I've never felt so dehydrated in my life, that I recall) and some successful (or adequate anyway) vital readings, the nurse taught us how to work the JP bulb thingy, had me try walking, let me get dressed, and prepared us to leave. As she was getting final paperwork, I was sitting on the bed, and thought for sure I was going to faint or pass out or lose my stomach... but I didn't.

We got home, and I don't really remember much. I know that Jake let me lie down in bed and I slept a lot. I remember later that night that he went to Bible Study and Jesse (his twin) came and babysat Spencer and I. I slept the entire time, as I had taken my pain medication (I guess).

After Bible Study, we had supper, thanks to a friend from church who prepared it for us... and then I tried to stand up and got really sick. That was fun.

I don't really remember much else.

But yeah, so they cut me open, removed a bunch of stuff, taped me up, inserted a tube/hose thing that is connected to a ball that I clip to my shirt that needs to be emptied twice a day and said "see you Monday morning." Basically. I'm on narcotics for pain and antibiotics to prevent infection. I hurt. I'm tired. I'm lightheaded and dizzy... but as Jake says, it'll get better.

And, for the record, Jake has done a fantastic job as "Mr. Mom" to Spencer, as well as taking care of me. I'm actually very nervous to be home alone with Spencer tomorrow for the first time since the surgery, unable to take pain medication, and just hoping the day goes smoothly. So, prayers for that would be great.

Thanks again to everyone for their thoughts and well-wishes, and those who have prepared meals to that Jake didn't have to worry about that too!

Here's to hoping I'm pain free and recovered swiftly, right?

Under the Knife.

I don't recall if I blogged about this subject before, especially while pregnant, so here's a quick summary of the past before I give an update:

While I was pregnant, I had a cyst on the tip of my tail bone flare up... really intensely. More than once, even. It was so painful I had a hard time sitting, standing, even wearing pants. I would end up in hysterics driving home from work it hurt so bad. They drained it once "surgically" and it drained on its own a few times.

Since I was pregnant, they couldn't do much for me, but they said at the surgical tower that if it came back again, especially after giving birth, to call them and they'd discuss options. So, when it did the day after I got home from the hospital, and again a few weeks later, and then it never really disappeared... I called them.

Today, I met with the surgeon. I thought they were going to do a quick drain today and send me on my way.. which they did.

BUT, they also scheduled me for full-on surgery next Wednesday.

I'm nervous. I have a week to sift through this nervousness and pray it be quelled, but seriously, I've never had anesthesia before. The thought scares me. Before I had Spencer, I hadn't even been hospitalized. So... needless to say, I'm not excited.

I am certain it will be fine, though. So, it's just a matter of calming down my mind, really.

They're going to knock me out, cut me open, cut it out, put in a tube, and sew me back up. I'll have a tube for a week or so, and have to take it easy until it's out and the wound heals. They say it's a tricky location since there's so much movement and stress, so I'll definitely have to limit mobility for the first few days. I'll have to have a baby sitter for at least 24 hours, and they say probably help with Spencer for first few days because I'll want to limit activity that causes stress on the area.

Should be delightful.

Right?

Adventures of my Tailbone.

Last Saturday, I woke up and had an inclination that a cyst I had thought to have been rid of last month was sneaking back into my life. My husband agreed, but neither of us thought much more about it.

Come Saturday night, lying on the couch, I knew for certain it was returning.

Three times before this past week, I have had this severely painful, swollen lump at the end of my tailbone. When I was at the doctor in July, it was present, and it actually burst while I was in the middle of my appointment. It hurt like hell, bled, required antibiotics, and a surgical consult. They said that they would want to surgically remove it under normal circumstances, but being pregnant and all, I can't lie on my stomach, so they can't. So they said to call back if it returned.

Sunday, I dealt, despite the ridiculous heat and pain (I spent a lot of the day attempting to not put any pressure on my back, and it didn't really work), I survived. I didn't sleep that night, and went to work on Monday.

By the end of the day on Monday, I didn't think I could manage it any longer. I drove the truck home in complete and total agony, yelling inside the truck to myself, crying, etc.

So, Tuesday morning, I went to the surgeon again. Since they couldn't do full surgery, he opted to inject me with a numbing substance, and open up the cyst to drain it and relieve the pressure. I tell you what though, despite he and the nurse telling me how awesome I was doing since I wasn't trembling too much and wasn't sobbing and shaking and screaming (like apparently many who have that done, do), I felt like I might pass out from pain. Luckily the shot took effect quickly.

They drained it, gave me gauze, set up a return appointment, and sent me on my way. My sister and I walked home (because I refused to drive the six blocks to the hospital due to the pain from the ride the night before, and opted to overheat instead walking in the hellish summer), and I felt great... for about an hour. Then it hurt all over again from the incision.

I dealt, I slept a little, and on Wednesday, went back to work with the pain of a sunburn on my tailbone. Not so bad. Thursday, it hurt still, not as bad again, and today, Friday, I can sit without pain (pretty much anyway). I am delighted that it worked so quickly. My body was torturing me, for pete's sake!

Speaking of riding in the truck. Yesterday, I parked the truck with the windows ALL the way down, and then there was a freakish torrential downpour that I was unprepared for. Whoops. I drove home in a soggy mess, laughing my butt off on the phone to my best friend telling her all about it, and came home to my husband... who was not as amused. I couldn't stop laughing though, regardless. It was just absolutely hilarious to me that it happened, there was nothing I could do about it, and I was drenched all over my backside, and the truck all over the inside.

Ah, good times.

So, that's a wrap, for now.