Life is a Banquet

How to Work the System

Last week, I had a little scare.* That is, if by "little" you mean that I was pretty convinced that Beta was about to reenact his/her own version of  Born Free, the Uterine Version. So, when the nurse-on-duty (otherwise known as my new BFF) said "oh it's probably either your blood sugar or a UTI," I was practically giddy to give blood and pee on my hand in a cup. Thus, when New BFF called back and said "not a UTI," my reply was "Oh." And when she said, "But we think it's a kidney stone," I said " That's WONDERFUL!"

Because, seriously, I've never been so relieved by such an un-fun diagnosis. Of course, I apparently have kidney stone-light--ABV and others have had kidney stone-hard core that usually involves ER visits and major league drugs. I've just got crystals (not the fun kind) and weird back pain. Otherwise known as the hypothetical kidney stone. Dr. Google says crystals don't always = stone, and my physical therapist says adjusting to boot-free walking = weird back pain, so who knows.

Anyway, I went to my hypothetical kidney stone appointment (because midwives, they don't handle anything higher than a g-string) because really, it had been 72 hours since I'd given bodily fluids and I had nothing better to do with my Tuesday than to wait an hour and 15 minutes to talk extensive medical history and really vague symptoms. 

New Practice needed the whole darn history, which I, wanting to get an A in "medical chart" provided like a ninny.  "Which relative had cancer?" "Grandfather. Prostate." Which, I had to relate at least six different times. I'm sure it's extremely relevant to the crystals and the pain, but whatever. The real excitement happened when she started talking options.

"So usually, we'd x-ray--"

"No! X-ray BAD!"

"Obviously, we can't" she looked wistfully at my pasty back.

"There's ultrasound--"

"Lovely! I thought I had to wait till 18 weeks! When can I have one?"

"Ultrasound your kidney. Not a pelvic."

"But I have pain! Right here," I pointed hopefully in the general direction of Beta. "And these stones, couldn't they be in my bladder?"

"You can't see bladder stones on ultrasound--"

"I'd be willing to try."

"If I send you for the ultrasound, the nephrologist who follows up may recommend a shunt--"

"That sounds painful."

"It is. You're not in ER level pain right now, so why go the nephrologist route?" She sounds so reasonable as my hopes of a quick peek at Beta are washed away with my latest blood draw.

"Why come in at all then?" Realizing that there were going to be no fringe benefits, I quickly returned hostile since I was due at a meeting that had already started thanks to their wait times. She's bored with me, I'm bored with her. We're so breaking up, only we have to keep talking, which really sucks.

"Waitings a fine option. Just see whether or not the symptoms go away. I've seen women with kind of chronically irritating stones that they finally pass at birth."

"Speaking of, are you sure I can't --"

"There's no need for an ultrasound."

"Hey! Do you have a doppler in here?"

"No. Let's just check your kidney function and go from there."

Finally, we arrive at the purpose of the visit, but sick of me, she handed me off to Newbie Medical Assistant girl who tried four attempts to hit a vein, forcing me to say "That's enough now," rather than kill her, and take my lab order to the lab that handles all my blood sugar draws. One stick, done.

So, I'm now that girl. The one who visits doctors in the hopes of scoring peeks at Beta--and of getting some sort of magic guarantee that everything is going to be okay. Because, seriously, six months ago? I never would have reported the UTI like symptoms, let alone the back pain. But the fear, it drives you to funny places--and strange waiting rooms.

*I'm sure this qualifies as praying for rain. Message from god = received. 

Church of the Blessed Heater

For ABV who needs a laugh:

The three disciples gather around the sacred artifact Metal Henge. They circle Metal Henge slowly before settling in to wait. No warmth emits from the metal pillars, but the disciples are true believers. They press their furry bodies up against the pillars and begin the long wait. No one knows how long it will be before the gods favor the true believers and emit the blessed warmth, but they know it will come. Eventually, if they wait long enough, the warmth will arrive.

Lo, the gods have noticed the disciples! "Why are you guys all napping here? The radiator is OFF!" the gods cackle, but all the disciples hear is "blah blah blah blah, the gods acknowledge your devotion."  The god pats each disciple, before finally sighing, "Fine. I guess I'll turn it on low."  The disciples hear, "Please, look more pathetic, and the gods may smile upon you." The canine disciple supplicates as the blessed warmth arrives. Her two feline acolytes move into position against her belly as they prepare for the ceremonial roasting. 

Hark! The gods return! "It's 60 degrees! There are cats right now in Wisconsin and Upstate New York with no personal heaters! Go! Nap somewhere else."  The disciples hear, "Please go worship at another shrine." They pilgrimage to the the Grotto of Air. Here, they wait for the rumble of It-that-which-is-not-seen and the warm blast of air.  They nap in hopeful anticipation of the benediction, which does not come.

"It's been almost month! That furnace vent is closed! You're blocking the kitchen door!" The gods shoo the weary pilgrims away from the shrine forcing them to reconvene at Our Blanket of the Magic Warmth.  Hallelujah! Praise be! The magic blanket is toasty! The gods have favored the disciples.

But, wait, only the right side has the magic toasties! What could this be! A message from the gods? Could it have something to do with the books on left side, those with pictures of small drooling gods on them? Perhaps it is a message to eat the books! Yes, the gods want us to nap directly on top of the open books and IGNORE the blessed warmth, thus proving our eternal devotion. "OFF!" The female god bellows. "I turned the bed warmer on Freak's side for you! What more do you want?"

The disciples hear, "Scat! Your devotion is not enough!" They prove their devotion by lounging on the Magic Toasties right next to Metal Henge and in line with Blessed Round Blower of Warm Air.  "You guys are pathetic!" The god moans and gives up.  Each disciple feels the hand of God, and knows, "The warmth it is good." Silently, they resolve to kill a field mouse to show their gratitude. 

Bunny Hats Make Me Weep

Beta Bunny Hat Close-up
Originally uploaded by wavybrains.

So, I promised . . . weeks ago that I wouldn't knit until I was safely out of the first trimester. This lasted all of about 2 days. I've already knit a cushion cover, a pair of itty-bitty socks that match a pair I just finished for my Nana, and this hat. Hat took me about 3 hours to knit, and about 4 to weep over.

Freak and Clanna both suggested that perhaps knitting for Beta isn't good for my mental health. Which perhaps it isn't. This hat just represents so much hope--that there will be a baby, THIS baby in September, who will be healthy enough to look really cute as Beta Bunny come fall. Holding the itty-bitty things I'm knitting just makes the whole thing feel so much more REAL.

Which is also a good thing, seeing as how I'm the OB patient currently known as annoying. I just don't feel all that pregnant. At my 9 week appointment on Friday, my uterus measured perfectly, my hips and pelvis (finally, doing some good) were determined to be "ideal," and my blood work "good." I have the occasional day, like today, where I feel seasick the whole darn day, and a little crampy, but mainly my complaints feel so minor.

Other than the fatigue, but I've dealt with that in so many other guises (blood sugar, depression, chronic illness), that even the fatigue (which has me in bed by 9 each night plus occasional naps) feels relatively normal. Novel has given way to all this napping, which is irritating. Along with everything else. Okay. So I'm tired and cranky.

Still don't feel exactly pregnant. 10 weeks in a few days. So, I rely on things like Bunny Hats to feel pregnant. Here's hoping that Beta likes the Bunny Hat and gives me some good hard bunny kicks in a month or so. And, yeah I'm going to keep knitting. It's kind of like holding hope's hand---I just can't let go.

No Hacking Allowed

So this has totally been me for the last . . . oh FIVE days.  That decision I made to skip the flu shot this year? REALLY SMART.  Each of my lovely, talented classes started the term with a unique virus circulating.  Somehow, I managed to get the best of all three with a Flu-sinusitis-bronchitis medley that has had me weeping for some locked-behind-the-pharmacy cold meds. 

Of course, all I get is a pot of boiling water and towel.  OB says "oh, we don't generally worry about the flu till TEN DAYS."  And, "no, you can't cough or sneeze a baby loose! Baby doesn't even know you have the flu."  This is not comforting, especially since my queasiness disappeared along with my sense of smell.  At least though, I got the lung-hacking and reduced-ability-to-suck-oxygen. Freak got the 102 Fever version (seeing as how Beta has no brain cells to spare, I'll take my 99.9 fever gladly), and has missed two days of work as well. We're a lovely pair right now. 

"I want tea."
"Me too."
"You gonna get it?"
"I can't move."
"Me either."
"Why are we watching another episode of OZ?"
"I don't want to walk over to the DVD's."
"Okay, then."

And we lay in slovenly, flu-like companionship.  Being the male, and blessed with the ability to medicate, he's off foraging for more oranges and a better selection of teas.   

My hunter returns.  Off to shield the laptop from his collapse onto to the bed.