Monday, November 28, 2005

Hospital Gurney Bliss


8:00 PM

Saturday evening started out so peacefully. The kitchen had been cleaned, the twins went to bed, and Michael and I sat down with his mom, Ricky and Gigi to play a game of Spades. We sat as a family at our dining room table (some of us with glasses of red wine, others with cream soda) and played a cheerful game while holiday music entertained our ears. Feeling full and warm, we headed off to bed fairly early, enjoying the first cold evening in Arizona.

12:30 AM

Michael awoke with the worst headache of his life. After 45 minutes of crying and vomiting, we rushed to the emergency room. Tick, tock . . . Tick, tock . . .

2:00 AM

Dr. Johnson was thorough in both his questioning and physical examination, and he was clearly concerned. He recommended both a CAT scan and that he extract spinal fluid to look for a blood clot, tumor or aneurysm.

2:30 AM

Shot of Vicodin (For Michael. No one offered me anything).

3:00 AM

The CAT scan was painless, but the spinal tap was quite unpleasant for Michael. This is now the second time I've seen this happen to someone (the first was Dylan at 11 months old). I felt horrible for Michael, but remember, I carried and gave birth to twins.

4:00 AM

Michael woozily asked me to join him in the hospital bed. Now, if you've ever visited the ER, you know that by "bed" I mean "gurney." So there we are, curled up on this gurney that couldn't have been much more than 2 feet wide. In his drug-induced haze he asks me to list the items that we're going to sell at our garage sale next weekend, and somewhere in between infant car seats and crappy formica furniture, I dozed off.


5:15 AM

The lights tear my eyelids open and there's Dr. Johnson, telling us that Michael's been walking around with a sinus infection for the past 2 weeks. We leave with prescriptions for pain medication and an anti-biotic. Halfway home, Michael turns to me and says, "So, what did the doctor say about my migraines?"

5:30 AM

Lying in bed . . . home . . . sleepy . . .

Maybe it was the thought of something horrible happening to Michael, or the cold night, or (to be quite cynical) the fact that football season has finally ended, but I snuggled up close to him that night, trying to recreate the feeling I had just before I dozed off on the hospital gurney.

The following evening I did it again.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Use As Needed


After about a month or so of debating the question "to blog or not to blog?" -- Oh dear, Wm. Shakespeare I am so sorry for that -- I have decided to join the club (I blame Joe). Yes, this is even in spite of my previous announcements that I would never do such a thing. The more I considered the idea, it kind of grew on me. I spent some time on my commute once considering what I could possibly offer the e-world in a blog. It wasn't until last Tuesday evening that I considered the blog could be for me (which I could then share with those who are interested in my world).

On Tuesday I was bathing my toddlers, and for the past week or so had been trying to get them excited about Thanksgiving. Every evening when I picked them up at day care, I'd tell them how many days we had left until Thanksgiving, who was coming to visit, what we were going to eat, etc. In between trying to keep them from swalling cupfuls of soapy water, I asked the boys, "Who are we going to see on Thanksgiving?" Kyle was too busy shoving a pink rubber duckie into a cup, but Dylan looked up at me thoughtfully. He scrunched his face to let me know that he was deeply considering my question, and then, as if he realized he had just solved the Final Jeopardy question, he said (with enthusiasm), "Animals?" Images of my family corralling in the kitchen and grazing on cheese and crackers sent me into a fit of giggles. This pleased my boys, who then started talking about animals at length (something they do best).

So how does this cute anecdote translate into I am going to blog? You see, it's the little things in life, the "Inconsequential" details or stories that are so important for me to remember. You might even call those inconsequential details "Essential." My life has been a rollercoaster ride these past five years, and this blog is my SLOW DOWN prescription.

I can't promise a daily dose, but I'll use as needed.