Surgery, Therapy Dogs, Improv Theater and a Baby in a Laundry Basket

Ari had surgery this morning. The doctors came and got him from his hospital room at 9am to transport him to the O.R. They let me come with him down to the Operating Room, but first they suited me up:

When we were traveling down to the Operating room, I felt like I was the one about to have surgery. I guess that's because Ari is like an extension of me.

We got to the Operating Room. He cried at the unfamiliar stark white surroundings. I held him while the Anesthesiologist sedated him. I was terrified. He was going under general anesthesia. He fell asleep quickly. As soon as I saw him on the Operating Room table I could feel a lump in my throat. I wanted to cry.

"Okay, mom." Said the Anesthesiologist, I was glad that she spoke because it stopped me from crying, "We'll show you to the family lounge now." One of the nurses walked me to the family lounge where I could wait for the surgery to be over.

It was the longest 30 minutes of my life. I tried to distract myself by looking at silly websites on my phone, i.e. damnyouautocorrect.com, but I was a nervous wreck. Finally, the doctor came to get me and told me the surgery had gone well and walked me to the recovery room where Ari was sleeping in a metal crib.

He woke up pretty quickly and wanted me to hold him.

I made the mistake of asking one of the nurses when he could eat bland foods like crackers. He heard "crackers" and said:

"Crackers? I want crackers!"

The nurse replied:

"Not yet sweetie, you need to drink a little bit first to see if your tummy feels okay."

"CRACKERS!" He demanded.

After much cajoling, he drank a cup of apple juice, small sips at a time. Then he bugged the nurse until she gave in and gave him a pack of saltines. I promised him many more crackers when we got back to his room, and I delivered on that promise.

Meanwhile, my other child has been sleeping in random household items at my friend's houses. Thank you Zahir and Mint!

Samara in a Laundry Basket: Wil's Brilliant Idea

Samara in a Drawer

She loved the laundry basket, but I hear she got bored of the drawer.

While Ari has been at the hospital he made friends with a therapy dog named Hudson:

And saw a show by an improv theater group called Only Make Believe:

These guys were awesome! They performed an original show for the entire Pediatric Unit in the play room here. The kids were very much involved in the show; there was a ton of audience participation. OMB were wonderful with children. For more on Only Make Believe, click here.

Ari is feeling much better. He's sleeping at the moment. I was told we could go home tomorrow afternoon. Here's hoping!

Thank you to all of our friends and family that offered kind words, transported breast milk, gave us a place to stay, and much much more while we've been going through this challenging time.

Admitted to The Hospital

I don't know what day it is. I barely know what time it is. Everything is running together. People's faces are blurred. I can't tell one doctor from another. They all look the same. We're in the hospital. Ari is in the hospital. I write those words and I don't believe them. It's surreal.

At some point in time, I realized that Ari wasn't getting better. The mass on his throat was swollen and red. I called the pediatrician and said:

"Look, he isn't getting better, what can we do?"

"The next step is so see an ENT doctor." Ear, Nose and Throat.

The ENT I wanted to see (the one affiliated with my pediatrician) wasn't available for two days. So I took a second choice appointment with a back up ENT. It was a mistake.

The doctor, we'll call him Dr. Y, barely looked at Ari and said he needed a Cat Scan. Whoa...back the bus up! He called in his partner who said "He doesn't need a Cat Scan, the mass is superficial. You should aspirate it." I went along with that plan; another mistake.

Dr. Y strapped Ari into a papoose like structure. He stuck a needle in Ari's neck and he screamed. I rubbed his head. Not much came out. A little blood, that was all.

"I thought there would be puss." I said.

"So did I." said Dr. Y. He said he was going away for the weekend with his wife who was 9 months pregnant, but Ari should have an ultrasound the next day. I numbly took the prescription for the ultrasound in my hand and Ari, Samara and I went home on the train.

The next day, the day of the ultrasound, the pediatrician called. I told her what happened at the second choice ENT's office.

"Do you still have the appointment with Dr. X?" Dr. X was the Dr. I would have preferred to see. The first choice Dr.

"I canceled it because Dr. Y scheduled an ultrasound today."

"You should get that appointment back with Dr. X." She said ominously.

"Oh...okay," I said.

"Yeah, cancel the ultrasound and get the original appointment back." She reiterated.

So I did just that.

We got to Dr. X. My dad came with me because Wil was sleeping (he'd worked the night before) and I had both kids with me. Ari was playing in the waiting room while I nursed Samara and my dad helped me fill out forms. It was a rather large waiting room and I feared we might wait a while. We didn't. We were called in within five minutes of our arrival.

When we got into the exam room, Samara started crying. I handed her to my dad and he took her into the waiting room.

Dr. X was great with Ari. Before he examined him, he talked with him, gave him high fives, and warned him that he was going to look in his mouth, and examine his neck. After the exam, Dr. X locked eyes with me.

"It looks pretty bad," he said gesturing at the enlarged lymph node on Ari's neck.

"My recommendation is that you admit him to the hospital." My jaw hit the floor at the words "admit him to the hospital." Dr. X explained that since the oral antibiotics weren't working, he wanted Ari to receive IV antibiotics and be monitored at the hospital.

I returned to the waiting room and told my dad the news, mistakenly, in front of the whole waiting room.

"WHAT?!" He practically yelled.

"Never mind, let's talk about this when we leave." I said.

We left the office and headed to the Emergency Room. The pediatric Emergency Room was full of toys and DVDs. Ari was happy to curl up in bed and watch Disney's Robin Hood while he played with a pack of playing cards and a rubber duck that the nurse, Doug, gave him upon admission.

I called Wil obsessively (until he woke up) to let him know what was going on. I finally reached him and told him the news. He got to the hospital within the hour to meet us.

Ari was evaluated quickly and admitted to a room.

Since his admission, he's been on IV antibiotics, and the doctors have been waffling back and forth as to whether or not they want to do a surgical drainage. If he doesn't respond to the antibiotics, he'll go to the Operating Room. I'm trying not to think about it.

The nice part about this hospital is that they have a wonderful pediatric unit. The nurses and doctors are really kind and super responsive. They have a play room where the kids can hang out and a giant fish tank to look at.

Ari has also been bribed with toys so that he can feel more comfortable under these circumstances.

The challenging part of this whole situation has been caring for Samara. She's not allowed to stay in the hospital with us. I've been pumping every two-three hours (they have a pumping room) and my dad has been delivering breast milk to my mom who has been watching Samara. My parents have been staying at a friend's place near the hospital.

I'm trying to stay strong. Please send good thoughts.

The Giant Lump

After our banner day yesterday, we were settling in to go to sleep. I went to give Ari a kiss good night and he yelled:

"Don't kiss me!"

This was especially strange, as Ari loves kisses and hugs from me.

"Why don't you want me to kiss you?" I asked.

"I hurt." He replied in a soft whimper.

All of a sudden I noticed that the right side of his neck was twice the size that it normally is.

"Oh my G-d!" I exclaimed. I reached out to touch it and he screamed:

"Don't touch it! It hurts!"

"Is that why you were crying when we were walking home?" I asked.

"Yeah..." he said softly.

I don't know what came over me, but I started bawling. I felt awful. I completely misjudged the situation. He was being defiant, for sure, but there was a reason behind his behavior. He was in pain and I didn't realize it.

"I'm so sorry," I managed to say between sobs.

He cried too. We held each other.

"It's going to be okay." I said. I called the pediatrician's office. It was after hours, so I spoke to the doctor on call. She said it was probably a swollen lymph node, but to bring him in the next day. When I got off the phone, I called Wil at work and told him what was going on. He was really worried.

"Does he have a fever?" He asked. I could hear the anxiety in his voice.

"99.3." I said. I took his temperature before I called the doctor. I reassured Wil that we were going to the doctor in the morning and encouraged him to stay calm.

Ari and I read Tikki Tikki Tembo and went to sleep. In the middle of the night I felt his forehead, and though I didn't take his temperature, I could tell that his fever had gone up from 99.3. He was burning up.

Today we went to the doctor and my dad watched Samara. When we got to the doctor's office it was a struggle to get Ari into the exam room. He wanted to stay in the waiting room with the lollipops and toys. I had to carry him, literally kicking and screaming, into the exam room.

The doctor said it was probably strep throat, but she wanted to do a test to make sure. Regardless, he would need antibiotics because his lymph node was extremely swollen. She attempted to open Ari's mouth with the tongue depressor.

"Ari, say aaaa!" She said.

Ari clenched his teeth closed and screamed and cried through his shut jaw.

The doctor called in for reinforcements. There were now three people, the doctor, and two assistants trying very hard to get my child to open his mouth, but to no avail.

He covered his mouth, he kicked, he screamed, he refused to leave my lap. He held onto me like a baby monkey. I rubbed his back. I told him if he let them look in his mouth, he would get cat cookies when he got home, but no amount of bribery worked. The doctor finally gave up on the strep test, and prescribed antibiotics to treat his symptoms.

We don't know whether or not he actually has strep, but we do know that he has an infection in his throat. We know that he is in pain.

He won't let me near his neck. I feel so badly for him.

When we got home, my dad helped me give him the liquid antibiotics and Children's Motrin for the pain. It was the same struggle all over again that I had experienced at the pediatrician's office. One of us had to hold him down and the other had to medicate him. We took turns.

He's sleeping now.

The doctor said it's highly unlikely that Samara will get what he has, but to wash our hands well just in case.

Here's hoping he feels better soon.

Are your kids challenging at the pediatrician's office?

Poop Poisioning

Maybe it was the burger and fries I ate from Five Guys yesterday, but my stomach was just not okay. I was visiting the bathroom way too frequently. I called my doctor and he told me to go straight to the emergency room to get IV fluids.

I feel like a frequent flyer at the emergency room, I should really start to get cash back, or something, for the amount of times I've been to the ER, especially in the last two years. For example this time or this time or perhaps this time.

Anyway, there I was again. I was so tired that I barely complained when I had to wait five hours just to be seen. Fortunately for me, I took my Jewish mother with me who was full of energy to advocate and complain for me.

"My daughter has been waiting five hours, and she's pregnant! This is ridiculous! She just needs some fluids for G-d's sake!"

I finally got a bed, and all at once a fantastically hot doctor arrived to treat me.
"How are you feeling?" He asked
"Um...like crap." I said.
"That's a fair and honest answer." He replied. "We're going to get you feeling better, okay?"
I nodded faintly. I told him about my symptoms and he took note of all of them.
"I have a two year old at home, and my midwife said that this could be a rotavirus transmitted from him? What do you think?"
"Sure," he said "That sounds about right."
"Um..." I paused. "What is a rotavirus?"
"Well," he began "It's essentially poop poisoning."
He went on to say that rotavirus is very common, it's the most common cause of diarrhea in babies and toddlers. It's transmittable to adults as well. Especially when you are changing an abundance of diapers, which I am. And it doesn't matter how obsessively you wash your hands afterwards (which I do) you can still get it. In fact, the hot doctor had an 18 month old daughter, and he's been infected twice already.

The most unpleasant part of the visit was when the hot doctor and his female assistant resident had to stick their fingers up my butt and do a pelvic exam. During both of these fun-filled procedures I had to pee so badly. I warned the hot doctor that I might pee on him. He said that was okay.

After we "got to know each other" they did a sonogram and I got to see my baby again. I asked the hot doctor if he knew whether it was a boy or a girl. He said that the baby was hiding, and plus I should save that question for the "fancy ultrasound technicians" who
"really know what they're doing." I'm seriously considering giving up with regard to finding out the gender of this fetus. I think it wants me to be surprised.

Finally, I got fluids and antibiotics and was sent home after seven delightful hours!

When I got home Ari was still awake (my dad had been hanging out with him) and watching Blue's Clues. I took advantage of this time to eat an exciting dinner of toast and white rice. After that, I read him "Click Clack Moo" and we fell asleep.

I Feel The Need to Complain

As if being pregnant and having a two year old wasn't hard enough, I now have the added bonus of a stomach virus. Fantastic!

There are so many things wrong with this situation:
1. There is a limit to what medications I can take to treat my symptoms because I'm pregnant.
2. Ari doesn't care that I'm sick, and says things like "I want to go outside mommy." "Playground, mommy." And I feel too guilty to say no.
3. My doctor has made it clear that I must drink three liters of Pedialyte/day for three days if I want to feel better. Have you ever tried unflavored Pedialyte? It's the most vile liquid I've ever tasted. I've gagged several times trying to consume it.
4. I'm starving all the time, but whenever I eat my stomach rebels against me. Yes I've tried the BRAT diet (Bananas, Rice, Apple Sauce and Toast), and no it hasn't worked.

I'm at my wits' end here. I want to magically feel better. but instead I feel like this:


Have you ever been pregnant with a stomach virus? How did you treat it?

Perpetual Sickness

When my son was young, I kept hearing about how wonderful nursing was. Among its many benefits, it was known for building up a baby's immune system. Needless to say, I am very pro-nursing. In fact, my son is nearly a year and I'm still at it.

But its not just nursing that builds up a child's immune system. It is also getting sick.

My son seems to be very good at this getting sick thing.

As a mom, I try to be very active. I take my son out of the house everyday. We go for walks, we go to the library, we socialize with other kids. We are out a lot.

Needless to say, he is exposed to germs everyday. But lately, he just keeps getting cold after cold. And it is truly frustrating.

I am all for building up my son's immune system, but lets face it, being sick bites the big one. In fact, there was a point where all three of our household members were sick.

My son, my boyfriend and myself were all passing germs back and forth like a game of catch.

I've heard from other parents that once my son gets into a daycare/school situation its even worse. Kids pick up colds from one another constantly at these places.

Whatever the case may be, we are stuck in a cycle of perpetual sickness.