If Today Was Your Last Day...

Today was perilously close to being my sister's last day. She dodged a big time bullet.

She had reconstructive knee surgery (completely torn ACL, partially torn MCL, extra long something'r'other that involved drilling into the bone) last Friday. She was 911'd to the hospital today after passing out and convulsing. She just managed before she passed out to click the button on the walkie-talkie and whisper "help, help".

Fortunately, my mom's house (next door) was quiet; she heard the whisper and went next door where she found my sister unconscious and, then, convulsing, in her bedroom.

And, for once I'm not going to save the whole lesson for the end, here's the first part: LISTEN when other people tell you about what they're going through. Even if you don't care that it's what friends do, you never know what you'll learn that may be useful later. For example, I learned from one of my best friends about pulmonary embolisms awhile back.

So we pushed for the ER staff to check for that. The ER doctor rather arrogantly dismissed the idea because my sister didn't recall having a hard time breathing. We pushed some more. (Ok, I pushed my mom via phone, she pushed my sister's husband via phone, my sister's husband and my dad pushed the ER doctor - it was kind of a chain event thing.) The doctor pushed on my sister's leg, it hurt. They did an ultrasound. Yep, a clot. They sent her up to get scanned all over. She does, indeed, have a clot in the upper lobe of each lung.

So here's the second part of the lesson: DEMAND to be heard. Unfortunately, we can't rely wholly on the health care system to know what's wrong with us and, in the end, we are responsible for our own health care. If it doesn't make sense in your gut, ask questions. If it still doesn't make sense, ask more questions. Keep asking, keep pushing.

If we hadn't, if we'd just accepted the codeine allergy theory, my sister would've been sent home from the ER with nothing more than "you just fainted" and a pat on the head which would have, most likely, killed her.

Scared the shit out of us all but she'll live. My sincerest thanks to that friend - I am so sorry you had to go through what you did to learn that but what you learned and shared saved my sister's butt. You know who you are and you're one of my best friends for many, many reasons.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow, tomorrow, we'll start the day tomorrow
with a wail or two...

Well, it's scheduled. Little Miss Evie is having tubes put in her ears tomorrow morning. Now, as surgeries go, this is incredibly minor - the surgery itself takes only 10 minutes though she does get put out for it. BUT I have to take a year old baby to the hospital by myself, a baby that hasn't eaten or drunk in more than 12 hours, and that, I expect, will be the hard (and loud) part.

That and watching my baby get put under...

Still, hopefully this will resolve her hearing loss. We'll be seeing the audiologist again in a month to check back on that.

In other news, the *new* baby appears to be baking away quite nicely, my BP is remaining stable, and I'm not loading on the weight. Joined a gym and have made it a goal to swim twice a week for 1/2 hour. I know it's not all that much but it's what I can manage so I just try to keep my heartrate up for the whole time and enjoy the heck out of having a shower all by myself at the end.

Tomorrow's a busy day in a lot of ways. Anyone in Central CT is cordially invited to join us tomorrow evening for a concert of Mendelssohn works at Center Church at 7:30 p.m. I'll be doing "O Rest in the Lord"; it's low for me but the space isn't cavernous and the accompaniment is piano so hopefully it will go well.

Honestly though, I can't think that far ahead. Right now, I'm just focused on getting Katie to the sitter tomorrow before 9 so Evie and I can be to the hospital at 9:30. If you hear persistent wailing about that time, you'll know from whence it cometh.

Panic!

Don't worry, everyone's fine.

We just had a little bit of a scare tonight. I got off the phone and it was strangely quiet in the house.

"Katie, where are you?"

Silence.

"Katie??!"

thump thump thump of footsteps.

"I drinkin' medicine, Mommy!"

The child drank 3/4 of a bottle of children's ibuprofen that I thought was safely out of reach. Needless to say, I called 911 and we spent our evening in the ER of Connecticut Children's Medical Center. First time I've ever been in an ambulance. They took Mommy's pulse to show Katie the finger clippie thingie was nothing to be scared of... 115. Yeah, Mommy had a little adrenaline going. Just a wee bit.

I can't say enough about our town's first responders - they were there within probably 2 minutes of when I picked up the phone - or the children's hospital. They were very good either her and got us all packed up (because, of course, I was home alone with the kids - John was at a wake in New Haven) and in the ambulance quickly.

She showed no ill effects at all, thank God. And we're all home now several hours and much adrenaline later.