Archive for the ‘Penny’ Category
Monday, May 14th, 2012
No time for pleasantries.
- Remember when Penny was in the hospital in August and I was all cryptic about what was wrong with her? That was because I didn’t want your reassurances. I know, that makes me sound like an asshole. But the thing is, I had (and have) genuine concerns, and sometimes a person just needs to worry them through without being told “oh, my aunt had that and she’s fine so obviously your kid will be fine!” Anyway, we worried through it all, and now I’ll tell you – Penny has vesicoureteral reflux – or VUR – or kidney reflux. And we’ve gone ahead and scheduled her for surgery for July 5th. It was just one of several possible options, but it was the best option for us. I think. I’m pretty sure. I mean, logically, I’m sure.
BUT SHE’S SO TEENY AND SHE’LL BE HAVING SURGERY OH MY LANDS YOU GUYS.
This is how I intend to distract you from the impending lack of content.
- Okay, remember when I was in the hospital and you were a total jerk about it? Well, I went (or more like, had Phil take me to) the ER because I was dealing with insane vertigo. More than dizziness. I mean the whole world was just whipping around me. It was so miserable. Nonetheless, I was still surprised when I was admitted to the hospital. They made me use a walker and wouldn’t let me pee by myself. Honestly, if I had blogged it in a timely fashion, it would have been some hilarious stuff. In a sad-for-me kind of way, but that’s usually my best stuff. I want you to know that it bothers me that I just ended two sentences in a row with the same word, but I just sat my kid in the middle of the floor with a whole cheeseburger and some french fries so while normally anal about such things, it’s a bit low on my give a damn chart at the moment. Just want you to know that I know.
Moving on, I had a CT scan and an MRI and both were perfectly clear, which is why I didn’t feel the need to alert any of my east coast family that I was in the hospital – I mean, come on. So they could worry over nothing? So I would have to call them multiple times a day to update them on my nothing? I told Phil that if it had turned out to be a brain tumor, he could call them. It didn’t, so he didn’t. Long story short, my mom threatened the shit out of him when we were in Pennsylvania for Penny’s birthday.
Internet, I need your honest opinion on this. Is it my job, as a 30 year old lady, to inform my family, on the other side of the country, of all of my medical issues? Some of them? Where’s the line? Colds? Fevers? ER trips? Broken bones? Admissions? How many days? Keep in mind that YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING from across the country and also family across the country wants CONTINUAL UPDATES from the person WHO IS SICK and DOES NOT WANT TO UPDATE. Seriously. What is an adult’s duty to family when it comes to medical issues, disclosure thereof?
So, the vertigo would have remained a mystery, had the neurologist not arrived right when a ripping headache that the floor doctor refused to treat in case it would mask symptoms was about to kill me. He quickly diagnosed vestibular migraine, which you can Google if you want, and then you’ll know exactly as much as I do, which is about nothing. When I got out of the hospital, the dizziness and vertigo took so long to fade I was resigning myself to the fact that I was going to be desperately clinging to walls for the rest of my life like all of the other sad stories I had managed to find online. Then… it was gone. Mostly. Most of the time. Lots of headaches and some mild dizziness, but no big episodes.
I don’t want to say a lot about vestibular migraines, because as of right now, I don’t have a lot of information. When I was looking for information myself, all I found was horror stories or just more people looking for information themselves. So. Nothing like that from me. I will say that my neurologist is going to be running a couple more tests and as of right now, thinks I’m an excellent candidate for migraine management with medication, so I’ve started on Topamax. I’ve taken it in the past and I know it’s a brutal medication, so we’ll have to see if the benefits outweigh the drawbacks. I have high hopes of no headaches. Well, fewer headaches, since Phil has no plans of moving out.
AAAHAHAHAHA GET IT? PHIL IS MY HUSBAND!
BUH DUM CHING!
- Remember all those times you told me, “You know, you really should go to the eye doctor, and you should let the eye doctor look in your eyes, and also you should do the puff test?” Well, I don’t like to do any of those things. I like to order my glasses online and never discuss it with anyone, ever. But I unfortunately have birthed a violent hooligan who slaps my $8 Zenni Optical frames off my face on the regular and they finally gave up the ghost on Saturday night, when Phil and I were supposed to be having a real live adult date while my mother (who flew back from Pennsylvania with Penny and I under the guise of helping me since Phil had flown back a week early but UNDER THE REALITY of soaking up my adorable child) had the only kind of grandparent-grandbaby bonding time that really counts – the kind where the parents are nowhere to be seen.
I would have loved to order from Zenni again, but with the whole headache mess, I couldn’t deal with being glassesless for any length of time and thus had to deal with the OPPRESSIVE NATURE of shopping for glasses in the real world, where they refuse to just GIVE YOU SOME and instead insist on peering straight into your head.
And you know what? Go ahead and say you told me so. Just get it out of the way. Because guess what? The doctor looked in there? AND SOMETHING WAS WRONG. He referred me to a specialist for papilledema, which as I basically understand it, means my eyeballs are going to explode. But that’s not the CRAZY part.
Like any normal person, before calling any specialist, I of course went home and googled (this was yesterday). This papilledema is caused by high pressure inside your brain bag, and you know what one of the main causes of THAT is?
TUMOR.
Except? I had a CT and an MRI just a couple of weeks ago and there WAS no tumor.
Obvious conclusion?
THE FULL BODY SCANNER AT THE AIRPORT GAVE ME A TUMOR.
(Please note: no tumor has been confirmed and is, in fact, only suspected by the part of me that is convinced that everything from an earache to stubbing my toe is probably caused by a tumor, but when you think about it, what other conclusion could there be?)
There was going to be more here today, including some deeply philosophical questions about leaning your seat back on airplanes, but guys – I am not even shitting you right now – I just got back from urgent care and I have strep throat.
I have crazy migraine managed with the medication from hell, exploding eyeball most likely caused by the naked cancer box at the airport and NOT EVEN FUCKING WITH YOU STREP THROAT.
Here’s my current favorite picture of my baby.
Posted in daily BS, Penny, Wait, what? | 44 Comments »
Sunday, May 6th, 2012
FUCK YEAH, CAKE.
Posted in Penny | 15 Comments »
Friday, April 20th, 2012
By now, you may have figured out that I have a rather loose definition of the word “tomorrow.” However, did you maybe think that I COULDN’T post something for all of the Internet to read, even though I was just totally desperate to do so? Did you think of that? Did you think that maybe I was in the HOSPITAL? I bet you didn’t. And you know what? I WAS. So don’t you feel like a sack of cracks now?
Okay, so, I was only in the hospital from this past Sunday to Wednesday, but you couldn’t possibly have known that. So, you, sack, cracks.
You couldn’t possibly have known I was in the hospital for a couple of days, but you should have assumed that it could have been a couple of weeks, so… look, I’ve kind of lost track of how to make you come out as the bad guy here, you crack.
*****
Awhile back, I got a comment that just put me in a really shitty mood, the kind of “ugh, fuck it,” throwing your hands in the air kind of mood. I have comment moderation set up on my blog, but it only moderates the first time someone comments – I figure if you’re not a dick out of the gate, you’re probably not going to be. At least, probably not an intolerable dick. They tend to make clear what they’re all about right from the jump. Anyway, this is a long way of saying that the comment was caught in moderation, so it wasn’t someone I was familiar with, so you can stop worrying that you’re the one who cheesed me off, because it wasn’t you.
It’s okay if you briefly worried it was you. I think everyone does that. I do that. I mean, when you think about things in the grand scheme of it all, someone talking about one specific person probably isn’t talking about you. What are the chances? So lately I’ve been trying to make a concerted effort to not assume something is about me unless someone directly says, “Hey, ass panda, this is about you.” You know, just like… if it was me, and it was that big of a deal, the person would talk to me. So I assume it’s either not me or it’s not a big deal and whoever is just venting some steam or what have you.
But that’s hard, you know that and I know that. I mean, someone could say, “I wish six foot tall black dudes in priest collars wouldn’t say such offensive shit in Swahili,” and I would be mentally running over all of the things I have recently said that might have been considered offensive because of course that was about me.
Anyway, I’m assuring you, it’s not about you, and I’m also not saying anything about the comment itself or anything, because like I said above, I guess I want to follow the other side of the coin, too – if it is a thing, I should say something to the person involved or maybe it’s just not even a thing. And it’s not a thing. It was a first time comment, not someone who has been around here for a while, unless they used a different email address or whatever, and it wasn’t even… anything. It was a nothing. I mean, yes, it got under my skin, what with the fuck it all and throwing my hands in the air, but it wasn’t anything worth pursuing. I guess it was just a right place, right time kind of thing where it crawled right under my skin and just made me have a kind of disgust for posting at all because UGH. WHY BOTHER. HANDS IN THE AIR. ET CETERA.
Yeah, so, long story not short or relevant, I didn’t post for a while because a random one off comment from a stranger chapped my ass.
*****
This is going to end poorly in about two seconds:
*****
I had this idea that I was going to tell you a little bit about all of the books I’ve read recently, because there’s been a good number of them and a bunch of them have sucked out loud, and I’m not going to lie to you – I enjoy getting especially descriptive about all of the ways I hated a particularly terrible book. Does that make me a bad person? Well, no, probably not, though there may be other aspects of my personality that when ADDED to that fact do indeed total up to bad person, I’m pretty sure taking some delight in outlining the particular terribleness of particularly terrible books on its own is not enough to put me into the category.
But I do want to do that and I will really, truly try to do so soon, but I’m dealing with some medical situation that makes extending typing – or computering – or reading – or televisioning – or most especially OH LAWD FAST FORWARDING THE DVR FETCH ME MY YAKKING BOWL – a bit difficult.
There’s that difficulty, combined with the whole actually having said difficulties, plus some other stresses that, once again I assure you that I’m not going to lie to you, because why WOULD I, it’s not like I have anything to gain from it and besides, the TSA Blogger would probably just post video footage anyway, might delay me in posting again. I’m not well, and we’re preparing to travel next week, and remember how Big P was in the hospital last summer? We knew then that in the future it was possible some decisions would have to be made about how to proceed with her health issues, but we assumed that the future would basically never actually arrive and also that qualified medical professionals would make the decision. But the future is shockingly right now – Penny will be a year old next Sunday, do you even BELIEVE that shit? – and we’ve been tasked with choosing the course of action. And by “we,” I mean Phil and I. And by Phil and I, I mean a couple of idiots.
MAN. You know, you get married and you have a kid, and you get up every day and you go to work or you stay with your kid or whatever you want to do or have to do, and it’s basically the same day to day, and you reach a point in early actual adulthood where you’re like, “Okay, this is life. This is how it goes and we’ll just go on like this. I’m not a rock star and life isn’t a minute by minute adventure like a kid would once assume adulthood might be, but this is how it goes and how it will go and that’s all of it,” and that’s not a depressing thought at all. And I mean that sincerely. But I don’t know if I’m conveying that realization in accurate terms, but I mean the point where you realize that this is all it is – and I don’t mean, “This is all it IS?,” but this is all it is. Does that even make sense?
But I took all that time to explain that, only to say the opposite – time keeps happening and THINGS keep happening, both together. Time happens and the things happen and neither one of those happenings stops for the other. By that I mean, I’m going to lay these plans, the plans to tell you about the books I’ve been reading, but things are happening and time is marching on – A YEAR OLD, YOU GUYS – and even though this is all there is, it’s hard to make promises about something that so recently made you throw your hands in the air, all UGH FUCK IT.
Posted in daily BS, Penny, the blogging thing | 16 Comments »
Thursday, March 1st, 2012
Um, why is the zone of infant neglect empty?
Excuse me! How did you get there! You’re immobile! Out your accomplices, immediately!
How are you — are you STEERING? Are you STEERING while you scoot BACKWARDS? I can’t even back out of the driveway without falling into the yard. BUT ENOUGH ABOUT ME COME BACK HERE BABY.
Do you even know where you ARE? Did you think to bring a MAP when you abandoned your HOME?
DID YOU EVEN THINK TO SCATTER SOME OF THOSE BREADCRUMBS JAMMED IN YOUR NECK FOLD? PROBABLY NOT. And, okay, I kind of recognize that as a failure on my part, we should probably read to you more, BUT AGAIN THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME GET BACK HERE PENELOPE THURSA.
I don’t understand how this is happening. How do you go from completely stationary one day, to circumnavigating the living room the next? I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU ANYMORE.
Oh, wait. Now I recognize you.
Posted in Penny | 20 Comments »
Thursday, February 2nd, 2012
A situation composed entirely of COMPLETELY UNFAIR CIRCUMSTANCES is going on here, and I have to tell you, I TOLD ME SO about going to the gym. Aside from all of the good things that come from going to the gym, nothing good ever comes from going to the gym.
I told you we were thinking about joining the YMCA, and we did join. And I was going every weekday, even though I still hate it, even though no one’s promises about the joys of exercise have ever come true, and even though it triggers extreme paranoia about how I smell at any given moment. I had been going every day, because it was good for me, and because dropping Penny off at the child care area was good for her.
The child care area has been great. They really like Penny, and there’s usually one child minder for the babies alone. Penny’s often the only baby, but I’ve never seen more than two or three there at a time, with plenty of attention given to them. And they’re separated from the galloping hooligan older children. Man, I’m glad Penny’s going to stay a baby forever.
Anyway, to add insult to what is sure to be inevitable injury, considering I just now kind of hurt my neck while trying to scratch my back, with Phil being gone for three weeks, I have to somehow convince myself that exercise qualifies as my alone time. No one comes home in the afternoon to give me a little baby relief, so I have to drop her off at the child care center in the Y, and then exercise, and tell myself that it’s great and restful and rejuvenating and totally the same thing as flopping on the couch in my underpants and watching Ellen while Phil takes care of the baby for a little while, but you know what? It’s not the same. I try to make myself at home on the treadmill, with my headphones and my videos and what not, but watching the elegance of upstairs/downstairs life in Downton Abbey loses something when you’re huffing and sweating and trying to stealthily check yourself for stink.
I am pretty sure I will never been one of those people who craves exercise, or feels like the day isn’t complete without a workout, or enjoys any of the benefits that high school gym teachers promise will come from putting on a stinky pinny and trying to be enthusiastic about dodge ball. There will always be something I would rather be doing. There will always be something I would rather be doing that I would never choose to do under normal circumstances. I’m saying I would always rather be cleaning my toilet.
But I’ve KEPT GOING ANYWAY. Even on days where I’ve decided to skip it, where I’m sure I’m not going to go, where I eye up the toilet and its need for a scrub, I have gone. Sometimes the decision to go is made three minutes before I’d need to be out the door, but I have GONE.
And do you know how I have been rewarded for this? For joining a gym, putting on gym clothes, dealing with smell worries, ignoring the people who are actually working out in favor of plodding along watching television, for exposing Penny to other children and the experience of learning that when we leave her somewhere, we always come back?
PESTILENCE.
Here I am, Phil gone for three weeks, and I’m still going to the gym and taking Penny to experience life outside of my hermitty bubble, and how am I rewarded? With PENNY’S FIRST COLD. Penny’s first cold, which has coincided nicely with Phil’s trip and the cutting of four teeth, along with the frustrated baby shrieks and indignant refusal to sleep that come along with trying to learn a new skill, causing my still-immobile baby to find herself on her belly and confused in the middle of the night, needing not only to be rescued, but also a loving parent on which to rub her snot.
And so we are watching endless Sesame Street and I am dealing with a baby who insists on being held and not held AT THE SAME TIME, because “YOU ARE NOT DADDY AND I ONLY LET DADDY HOLD ME BUT HOLD ME BECAUSE I DON’T FEEL GOOD PUT ME DOWN NOT DADDY HOLD ME.”
So I’ve missed a couple of days at the gym, because she’s been miserable, and I’ve been trying to hold and not hold her at the same time, dealing with a baby who wants both to be cuddled and to headbutt me repeatedly, and also, she PINCHES, and that would be okay, kind of, because I hate them gym and also, PJs@TJ’s is next week and I still have so much to do. And she seems like she’s starting to rally a bit, or at least she did last night, so I took her to Chipotle and she was delighted to eat a quesadilla and then equally delighted to… project it back over the floor of said Chipotle. And then again all over Phil’s side of the bed.
But now I also am sick, because Penny has insisted on rubbing her gross drippy face directly onto mine, and I still have a lot to do, and Phil is still not here, and I can’t even watch Downton Abbey because I told myself I could only watch it AT THE GYM, where I can’t go right now, because Penny brought home pestilence FROM THE GYM.
It is also kind of possible that she might have gotten the plague from that time I was too lazy to put her shopping cart cover down and I turned around for a minute to ponder my choice of frozen chicken products only to turn back and find her sucking on the cart handle. But it was probably the gym.
Here is a photo from happier times.
OH, ALSO? I found an injured baby bunny in the yard and I had to take it to an emergency vet and they put it down. That doesn’t really go with the rest of the post, but I feel like it’s part of the whole package of my suffering right now.
Posted in daily BS, Penny | 21 Comments »
Monday, January 23rd, 2012
So, I don’t know if I told you, but Phil is away for some military-type training for the next three weeks.
And I’m pretty sure I did tell you, but I’ll tell you again, that I have a major event coming up at my house in… three weeks.
So I took last week off from posting, thinking, hey, no big. Phil’s going to be away for three weeks. The only responsibilities I will have will be to clean my very small house and keep the baby alive and shop for an entire weekend’s worth of supplies for 18 women.
Psh.
PSH.
A week off doesn’t matter, because I am going to post SO MUCH with all of that luxurious time I’m going to have, what with my perfect satisfaction with eating peanut butter and jelly all the time and no need to go anywhere at all.
Yeah, it’s been 12 hours and my ass has already been soundly kicked.
Here’s a picture of my baby eating bacon.
Posted in Penny | 19 Comments »
