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Tuesday, October 28, 2014

After the ER, I find my true calling...

We’d really had hopes that 2014 could be ER/medical emergency free.  Bummer.  After taking Kayli to the doctor Thursday for her arm injury, we waited through a rough night and morning.  We were supposed to wait for the Radiologist to call Friday morning with results.  I waited until 10:30 and called them.  Kayliana was in the worst pain I've ever seen her in -- worse than when she broke her left arm last November.  

The doctor said the Radiologist couldn't see a fracture either, but since Kayli was in so much pain, we should head to the ER at Seattle Childrens' Hospital.  We spent all Friday afternoon there.  They did more xRays ($$$$ -erg) and were finally told that she actually had dislocated her elbow.  (Which we’d talked to the doctor about the night before but she was pretty quick to rule it out saying Kayli was 'too old' to still have nursemaid elbow...even though we pointed out that she'd had it for that same arm.)  Totally frustrating!  We’re obviously relieved that it wasn't broken and she didn't need a cast again but sure wish that it had been figured out Thursday night -- would've saved tons of time, money and SO much pain.

In the ER, we had a Resident and then his Attending Physician.  After the xRays were done, I saw them out in the hall practicing.  The Physician was showing the Resident how to pop an elbow back in.  It wasn’t very reassuring and, unfortunately, when he tried on Kayli he failed miserably.  I could even tell (through all her screaming) that it hadn’t popped back in.  The poor thing (mostly Kayli, but I did feel sorry for the Resident too).  The other doctor, reached down and with a quick flick of his wrist, popped her arm back in.  It was awful. The Resident left the room hanging his head in shame and defeat.

Once her arm was popped back, Kayli was ripping around the ER (after hours of not moving she had a wee bit of extra energy built up.)  I thought she might pop something else out.  The doctor told me, “Well, we’re here all the time if you ever need to come back to get that arm popped back in.”

I said, “Thanks, you’ve been great and all.  But I never want to see you ever again.”

Thankfully, after that crazy day, we were able to go to the school Costume Carnival later that night.  Kayliana was all ready to go in her Ninja girl costume, but she took one look at me and decided to go with Snow White instead (so that she, too, could have red lipstick.)  I’ll admit that being Snow White in a packed gymnasium full of kids – and nearly half of them little girls (and about 90% of those sporting princess gowns) – was pretty fun.  Dreams do come true!  I had several little girls come up and just stare at me in awe.  One mom apologized and said, “We just went to Disneyland, so she’s pretty sure you’re the real deal.”  Um, I am the real deal.  Dreams do come true!  I got to be Snow White for the evening and, quite honestly, it’s a look I may rock more often!

Mom of the year -- I had to go to four stores to find Zachary a werewolf mask.  He loved being incognito.  But something's going on with that wolf -- it sheds fur everywhere.

 I have to say, I'm quite proud of how Mike's costume turned out.  All I did was buy  t-shirt at Goodwill and cut the sleeves off -- add a tablecloth, pin, my belt and voila! I gots me a Prince!

Friday, October 24, 2014

More Crap for the Crapalanche

I now give you permission to point and laugh.  (I’ll join in.)  Was my last post – 3 days ago, titled “Crapalanche” – for real?  Did we all love how I spent a paragraph complaining about the annoying little things that I’ve been dealing with?  (Things like cancelled credit cards. Wah, poor thing.)  I said my go-to lines of late: “I just want things to get easier” and “I’m waiting for things to settle down, for life to get a little less complicated.”  I didn’t even mention that we’ve been having car problems…that we realized we hadn’t gotten the oil changed in the minivan in WELL over a year (like possibly two years) and – gasp! Shocker! – that’s now causing car issues.  So, whatever, a bunch of administrative annoyingness and car issues.  Why was I complaining?!

Kayliana may have broken her arm yesterday…again…her other arm.  Her right arm (the one to which over two years ago she dislocated her elbow twice in three days).  Last year – four days after dad died – she kinda-sorta woke up with a broken left elbow.  They never did entirely figure it out, but we spent 4 weeks after dad died going to go get more torturous (and not exactly cheap) Xrays at Childrens’, just so they could scratch their heads and say, “Well, we think it’s broken, we can’t quite tell though…let’s put a different kind of cast on this week.”  And here we go again.  But, now it seems to be her right elbow—upper arm, we’re not sure…and they’re not either.

The sad, sad irony is that I’d THOUGHT I was keeping her from getting injured.  We’d just had thunder, lightning and hail (ha!  A fitting backdrop to my emotions); maybe that’s what got her all charged up.  Kayli started running around – zooming and slipping in her socks on the hardwood floor.
“Kayliana,” I’d said, “You’re going to fall and get hurt.” (Famous last words.)

A couple minutes later, I say, “Stop running.”

(Meanwhile I’m also helping Zachary with homework and am not totally 100% aware that Kayli continues running.)  Finally, I realize it and say, “You’re not listening.  I said stop running.”  I put her in time-out (she sits on the bottom step.)  Immediately – instead of having the fit that usually accompanies this – she puts on a sweet face and says, “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

I say, “Yeah, awesome.  You should’ve been sorry and stopped the first time.  You have to sit in time-out and then we can talk about how ‘sorry’ you are.”  I set the timer for four minutes and sit back down to 3rd grade math.

Maybe half-way through her time-out, I hear too much noise – she’s hopping, jumping, dancing (a la Ginger Rogers but without the grace and finesse) on the bottom two stairs.  I’m about to go when BOOM – followed by high-pitched scream and then the long pause as she holds her breath before letting out a HUGE sob.  I can tell right away there’s something wrong with her right arm.  She fell off of the step landing on the hardwood floor with all of her weight on her bent arm.


They were able to get us in for the very last appointment of the day – 6:20pm.  We dropped the unfed-and-still-needing-homework-to-be-finished boys at my amazing neighbor-friend’s house (where she proceeded to – along with her 3rd grade twin boys and 5th grade boy – feed them and get Matthew ready for his weekly Friday exam.) 

The doctor examined Kayli’s arm – initially ruling out nursemaid’s elbow (the dislocation issue of two years ago).  They then did two xrays – the second one more painful and awful than the first.  (They wanted her arm straightened out with palm up – yeah, there was no way Kayli was going to let her arm be moved like that.)  The result?  Basically the same exact scenario as last November: we see fluid build-up in her elbow, so can’t really see that there’s an obvious break, but we’ll have to wait for the Radiologist to take a look at in the morning.  All I can say is – and Mike agrees – there’s GOT to be a break or something going on.  She is in SO MUCH PAIN.  It’s way worse than last time even.  It’s awful. 

So, we wait for the call – which will probably be: “Nope, everything looks fine.”  To which, I’ll have to put on my mean-mom voice and say, “Everything is NOT fine.  She can’t move her arm and screams in pain when she barely shifts her entire body to try to get comfortable.”  And then we’ll go to Childrens’ and spend WAY more money on a fancier Xray…that might also tell us absolutely nothing. 

It’s a bit of déjà vu, and man, it sure brings up bad memories.  Last time, I remember sitting there in shock when the doctor said, “Well, let’s do more Xrays…how’s next Wednesday?”  And I looked at him and said, “My dad’s funeral is next Wednesday.”  They got us in on Tuesday.

I’m sad and frustrated for so many reasons.  Most of all, because it’s HORRIBLE watching your children suffer and this seems to be the worst we’ve had to see/hear/watch.  Kayliana is a tough cookie but holy crap she’s in pain.  I’m also bummed because we finally felt like she was ready to do more activities – she’s been in swim lessons (back with her favorite, awesome teacher) and gymnastics (for the purpose of working out her wiggles AND learning how to fall correctly)!  If we’re looking at a broken arm both of those things – which she LOVES – will have to be put on hold for a while.  And, I kid you not – it takes swimming twice a week, gymnastics and me taking her for the occasional run to use up her energy for good sleeping at night!  I don’t want to have to stop that stuff (and she won’t either)!  And lastly, I’m frustrated because, well, I was already stressed and feeling like we were getting buried under a crapalanche of too much crap.  Guess I was wrong.  There was more crap to come.

Last night, once we got her settled in bed, I was talking with her about how brave she was getting the Xrays.  Her eyes started to well up with tears.  I said, “It’s OK to be sad and cry though.  That hurts!”

She sniffed and said, “I’m not crying. I’m sweating out of my eyeballs.”

Tuesday, October 21, 2014


Two weeks ago, Mom, Timothy, Chris and I went to Port Ludlow and – with the help of some good friends – emptied out the beach house.  We bid adieu to the place that Dad loved and where he’d spent so much time laboring over the last few years.  A labor of love.  He’d painted every wall, tiled floors, fixed plumbing, built a beautiful stone column on the deck, worked on the roof and filled over 20 truck loads with overgrown vegetation.  When we’d finally taken the last load out of the house, we went over to the condo (which we just listed for sale) and popped the bottle of champagne that’s been waiting for a sold-property celebration for three years.  (Mom and Dad had bought it to celebrate the condo selling…we took that off the market after dad died, listed the house first and their Bellevue condo instead.  After a summer of frustration and dropping prices on both properties WAY too much, both ended up selling and closing within a week at the beginning of October.)

Yes, it’s a relief to have two properties sold.  Yes, it helps…a bit.  There’s still a ridiculous amount of stuff to figure out.  Tax stuff (that I don’t even get at all and try to avoid thinking about since it causes brain-pain).  Then there’s the annoying little stuff – the home phone that we cancelled and yet they’re still charging mom for.  The cable modems that got returned and yet they’re saying they don’t have.  We just got a bill for Dad’s cell phone for the month of September.  We cancelled his phone a while ago.  I didn’t know they got reception in Heaven, but we’re getting charged for it!

I’ve been saying for a while, “I just want things to get easier.”  All the administrative broo-ha-ha from having five properties to manage (the Bellevue condo, the beach house, the Port Ludlow condo, Mom’s new place, Chris’ new apartment).  It’s just too much.  I’ve been so nervous that I’m going to make a huge mistake and royally screw things up.  It all feels way too adult.  It’s way too many utility bills for one person to keep track of.  So, we are down two places.  There are only three properties to manage now.  Yep, only three.  And, sure, it’s gotten a little easier, but it’s continued to feel like a bit a crap-avalanche.  A crapalanche. The minute one big thing closes/settles/eases up a bit, there’s something else.  We get notification that Mom’s credit card (that took 6 months to get) was ‘compromised’ in the Home Depot credit card fraud dealy and they have to cancel it (I kid you not – within two weeks after I’d finally managed to set up so many bills to be autopaid on it to simplify our lives).  Her credit card is finally back – new number, all good, up and running.  We get notification that Chris’ credit card has been compromised.  Here we go again.

I’m the biggest whiner.  The biggest complainer.  Here’s the deal: life is hard, I get that.  I realize that my problems – compared to so many people in the world – well, they’re a joke, really; a walk in the park.  And, honestly, I wouldn’t trade with anyone.  So, at what point, can I just really accept the ‘life is hard business – just work with it’ mentality?  These are the cards we’ve been dealt – play the game without being such a wuss.

I’m waiting.  I’m waiting for things to settle down, for life to get a little less complicated.  People keep telling me that it will, but maybe instead, I should stop waiting and just embrace this new ‘normal.’  It’s a heck of a lot more challenging than my life used to be, but people have said I’m not one for boring.  We’ve always tended to have more drama in our lives than is normal.  Can’t just have a wedding night without a trip to the ER.  Why have a baby at 40 weeks when you can make a more surprising entrance and have a BOY 5 weeks early?!  You know I could go on and on…but – the drama, the excitement, the stress – maybe it’s the only way I know how to do things.  It’s how we roll.  Now I gots to just own it.  

Friday, October 03, 2014


We’ve sold the first of my mom’s properties – her condo in Bellevue.  This is a good thing.  This is SUCH a relief and will lift an enormous burden off all of our shoulders.  But it’s also bittersweet.  It’s all so bittersweet.  This is how everything is right now.  It was the place where I last saw and spent time with dad.  It was the place where lots of events happened over the last 14 years. (College graduation celebrations, our post-Wedding day brunch – also bittersweet thanks to our Wedding night spent in the ER, it’s where we brought babies to visit Grandma and D-dad, it’s where we threw an amazing surprise birthday party for mom’s 70th, it’s where we went after dad died).

Yesterday, I was driving home from dropping Kayliana off at preschool.  I was kind of just zoning out when, all of a sudden, I became uber aware of my surroundings.  I think it was the combination of sun and the color of the autumn leaves around me.  It also happened to be the same road that I had to drive home on after getting the call from Mike.  I was immediately transported back to that moment, that day.

This year, the changes of fall make me feel just a little ill.  It’s beautiful, but it puts a pit of dread in my stomach. It just means we’re in the season and nearing the inevitable first anniversary of dad’s death.  Every moment causes me, in some way, to think about that.  Well, a year ago when we were putting up our harvest-Halloween decorations, I had no idea what would happen in just a matter of weeks.  I was also all sorts of confused and stressed, fall 2013, with my new (dad-initiated) plan to go back to school and get my Masters.  (A plan that has been completely shelved, put on the back-burning, has a pin in it – you name it.  I feel like, for the last 10 months, I’ve hardly been able to get through a day without falling apart.   I can barely look a week ahead right now without feeling overwhelmed.   Figuring out my future career path is the last thing on my mind.) 

People have already started talking a bit about the holidays.  I saw Christmas trees in a store already.  Normally, this would thrill me to no end (and, of course, it partly does).  But Thanksgiving will be forever tainted.  I’ll never be able to experience it for just Thanksgiving.  It will always bring back memories of last Thanksgiving – reeling and really, still being in shock, from the two days before.

I think I’ve even already blogged about this, and it makes me sad that this has become the tone of my blog, but whatchya-gonna-do, right?  November 26th looms like a dark shadow in front of me.  It’s the day before Thanksgiving this year.  I (selfishly) pre-dread seeing all the happy Thanksgiving posts on Facebook or having to listen to people complain about the stress of the holiday, the family madness, the cooking, the cleaning, the prep-work (even though I will grumble about some of that too). I assume that we’ll probably have Thanksgiving here.  I do think it’s good that we won’t be having it in the same place as last year, but I know it won’t necessarily be any easier.

This is the thing with grief – and a dear friend from Engaged Encounter (who lost her son) – told me: it’s the build-up to the days – the holidays, the anniversaries and birthdays – that’s usually the hardest.  That, and the random days (like today and yesterday) when, for whatever reason, it’s just extra painful.  The hurt is just a little more constantly present.  So, maybe that’s what I’m in now.  The random hard days.  The build-up to the big days.  No matter how you slice it, it sucks; it’s all hard.  Different levels of hard, but all sucky.