You go to a PTA meeting, promised a program about internet safety. You leave wanting to throw the computer in the garbage and lock your kids in the bathroom for the next 20 years. You know, we are SO SHELTERED. And unfortunately, what we don't know CAN hurt us, and our kids.
There are a lot of sickos out there, and the internet is making it easier for them to prey on kids. Mr. FBI Agent (who did an excellent presentation), filled us in on so much. One of the things he mentioned was how these pedophiles will go on-line, steal pictures of kids, and then put their faces on child pornography. For that reason, I'm not putting pictures of the kids up here anymore, since this page is public. Sorry.
Oh - and note to all: if your kid is on myspace or facebook or xanga, or if they are in virtual worlds like Second Life, or if they play Wii or PS3 games via the internet, YOU NEED TO REALLY, REALLY PAY ATTENTION!
This guy came to talk to us, and there were maybe 30 people in the room. The school currently has 650 students. I'm hoping we will have him back next year and really, really publicize it, because EVERYONE with kids needs to hear about this stuff.
I am literally nauseous after seeing some of that stuff. So kiss your kids/nieces/nephews/friend's kids and be on the ball!
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Curious George Visits The Hospital (This is a long one)
OK...so Karlin's not a monkey, and Bart doesn't have a big yellow hat and there's no sad little girl named Betsy or a big foodcart crash with the mayor. But I still think the title fits the blog. You see...
On Thursday, we packed my baby girl into the car and drove off to All Children's Hospital in St. Petersburg. She had been fasting since 10:30 pm the night before, and had her last drink of liquid at 9:30 am. We arrived - right on time - at 10:45 am, as instructed. Registration went quickly - no problems. Admission & check in - nothin' to it. Then we were told to wait in the "game room" where we would be until going into pre-op "holding". So we went. And stayed. And stayed. And stayed.
Now, I understand that hospitals get backed up. Emergencies happen, things run behind, etc. But we hit the "game room" at 11:15, prepared for a 12:45 adenoidectomy. I use the words "game room" in quotes because it really wasn't. God bless the people who hired some 40 year old to set up that room, but please! They had 2 gaming consoles. According to Bart, they were "Play Station 1"s, which came out about 10 years ago. They have since been followed up with PS2 ,and now the PS3. Point being that the games were out of date. And half the gaming consoles didn't work. Oh - and the walls were painted with lovely murals: Looney Tunes, the Flintstones, and the Jetsons. Hello? I'll bet you if you stood 50 kids in front of that mural and told them they'd get $100 if they could name 4 of the characters, NO ONE would be able to do it. Hell - I'm not sure I even remember all the damned Flintstones characters, and I used to watch them on TV! How long has it been since the Jetsons were on? 15 years? They should really update that stuff to Dora, Spongebob, and any or all of the Pixar characters. There was a TV which was playing the Disney channel, which was good. Except that they put it on the wall in front of the passageway, meaning every single person who came into the room had to walk in front of the TV. There were a few books, and some little ride-on cars, but not really enough to occupy a kid for more than about 45 minutes. Which was OK, because I brought the backpack of fun to the hospital: 2 new Geronimo Stilton books, an animal activities book, 2 ponies, a pad of paper, and a box of crayons. This kept Karlin occupied and distracted for while...
But not for the 3 hours it took us to get moved into holding. At this point the poor thing hadn't had food for 16 hours, and nothing to drink for almost 6 hours. She was thirsty and cranky and hungry and scared. We went into the holding room at 2:25, prepared for a 20 minute wait. It was more like 45 minutes. FINALLY at 3:15, they took her back. She was SO BRAVE. Bart and I were saying goodbye and we loved her and yadda yadda yadda. She was chatting up the nurses and the anesthesiologist. We went to a little "conference room" to wait, and exactly 12 minutes later the doctor came in. He said it had gone great, and that her adenoids were huge. She should see a vast improvement in her ability to breathe and her quality of speech. (Note: Dr. Dickhead has been downgraded back to Dr. Important. We instructed him - with the support of Karlin's pediatrician - NOT to put tubes in her ears. And he didn't, and surprisingly didn't give us any crap about it. His nurses and PA all seemed amused that we were going against Dr. Important's instructions, but when they brought out the revised consent, it just read "adenoidectomy." )
Anyway - 4 hours of waiting for a 12 minute surgery. At least it was over. So the nurse told us to go grab a bite and a drink, and come back in 20 minutes. So we came back in 20 minutes and went into the post-op room, expecting Karlin to be wheeled in any minute. But 5 minutes went by. Then 10. Then 20. Just when we were starting to wonder what in the hell was taking so long, a nurse came in and said "Mom, I need to to come back to recovery with me." Bart and I both stood up, but the nurse said "no - just mom." So as we're walking back to the recovery room, I asked what was wrong. She says "I don't know - they just told me to come and get you and bring you back." Insert panic HERE. So we go through the doors, and there's my baby. My tiny baby lying there in the bed - hysterical. Apparently, she didn't come out of the anesthesia very well, and freaked out. She was as white as a sheet, her eyes and lips were all red and swollen, and she was full-out panicked. She was also coughing like she had TB, and couldn't really talk.
Now, anyone who knows mw knows these things about me: I have no poker face. I am a terrible liar. Most time, you can read anything I am thinking or feeling right across my face. So how hard was it for me to smile and be brave and reassuring to her, when inside I was freaking out too, and really wanted to cry? That was one of the single most difficult moments of my life as a parent so far. And I had questions that I couldn't ask the nurse, because I didn't want to scare Karlin any more. Basically this is what I found out: she had come out of the anesthesia disoriented and upset. She was crying for me, and when they couldn't get her to settle down, they came and got me. She was in an unusual amount of pain, so they gave her - hang on to your hats for this one - morphine. So when she was a little cloudy waking up, now she was downright loopy. And she had developed a "croupy" cough, which was concerning them. They wanted to keep her back there for 30 more minutes to monitor her on the pain meds, and wanted to put her on a humidifier for the cough. So for more than a half hour, I sat there and talked to her, gave her sips of water, rubbed her forehead and held her hand. It was awful. I kept thinking - "Why am I back here? I suck at this! BART is the good, solid, calm one! He should be here!" I did manage - with one hand - to text Bart to fill him in. Otherwise he''d have been in the post-op room freaking out himself. Finally, we moved into post-op. She started to get her color back a bit, and was eating a popsickle. She had to keep the humidifier on for awhile, but was still really incoherent. She finally dozed off for 45 minutes, and the nurse said when she woke up if she wasn't coughing we could go home. She woke up about 5:30, crying. When we asked what was wrong - was anything hurting? - she finally said in a loud, croaky voice "I WANT TO GO HOME!" The nurse said "Alrighty, then - let's get that IV out!" Bart went to go get the car, and I asked her if she wanted a wheelchair ride, or if she wanted me to carry her. She asked me to carry her. At that point I would have carried her to the moon if she asked me to.
She slept all the way home. When we got her into the house, so woke up long enough to have a drink of water, ask to be on the couch, and look at the flowers and webkin my mom had sent her. Then she passed out again. She slept for an hour and a half solid, then woke up again just long enough to drink a little. at 10:30, we moved her up into our bed, put her in clean pjs, and she woke up again. This time, she actually looked somewhat lucid. She ate about 1/2 cup of soft cereal, then passed out again. We had to give her medicine at Midnight, and again at 6:00 am.
Bart and I were totally unprepared for how long that whole mess would take, and by the bad condition she was in coming out of the surgery. NO ONE told us it would be like that. We were really worried about her. Thankfully, when she woke up Friday morning, she was back. She ate about 200 pounds of soft cereal during the day, and although her voice is still a little raspy and she has a sore throat when she swallows, she is probably 80% recovered.
Before Karlin had this operation, SO MANY PEOPLE said things to me like "oh - there's nothing to it". or "It's a breeze" or "my kid practically danced out of the hospital" or "my kid ate a whole pizza that very night." Guess what? There was A LOT to Karlin's surgery. It WASN'T a breeze. Karlin STILL doesn't feel much like dancing. And she couldn't stay conscious long enough to eat anything that evening.
I can tell you this, though...there is a tiny little part of me that is so honored that she asked for me, and not Bart. Most girls know that the bond between a daddy and his little girl is a special one. That is even more so with Karlin and Bart. They are so much alike, and sometimes I feel like I'm on a different team. Don't get me wrong -- I am not jealous, and I am so glad they have that special relationship. But a tiny part of me is glad that - on some level - she still needs me. Even if she doesn't really know it.
Today is mother's day, and I am so thankful. I am thankful that my baby is OK. I am so thankful that I somehow found the strength to get her through that, and to get me through that. I hope that the memory of her in that recovery room - it's stuck in my head - goes away soon.
On Thursday, we packed my baby girl into the car and drove off to All Children's Hospital in St. Petersburg. She had been fasting since 10:30 pm the night before, and had her last drink of liquid at 9:30 am. We arrived - right on time - at 10:45 am, as instructed. Registration went quickly - no problems. Admission & check in - nothin' to it. Then we were told to wait in the "game room" where we would be until going into pre-op "holding". So we went. And stayed. And stayed. And stayed.
Now, I understand that hospitals get backed up. Emergencies happen, things run behind, etc. But we hit the "game room" at 11:15, prepared for a 12:45 adenoidectomy. I use the words "game room" in quotes because it really wasn't. God bless the people who hired some 40 year old to set up that room, but please! They had 2 gaming consoles. According to Bart, they were "Play Station 1"s, which came out about 10 years ago. They have since been followed up with PS2 ,and now the PS3. Point being that the games were out of date. And half the gaming consoles didn't work. Oh - and the walls were painted with lovely murals: Looney Tunes, the Flintstones, and the Jetsons. Hello? I'll bet you if you stood 50 kids in front of that mural and told them they'd get $100 if they could name 4 of the characters, NO ONE would be able to do it. Hell - I'm not sure I even remember all the damned Flintstones characters, and I used to watch them on TV! How long has it been since the Jetsons were on? 15 years? They should really update that stuff to Dora, Spongebob, and any or all of the Pixar characters. There was a TV which was playing the Disney channel, which was good. Except that they put it on the wall in front of the passageway, meaning every single person who came into the room had to walk in front of the TV. There were a few books, and some little ride-on cars, but not really enough to occupy a kid for more than about 45 minutes. Which was OK, because I brought the backpack of fun to the hospital: 2 new Geronimo Stilton books, an animal activities book, 2 ponies, a pad of paper, and a box of crayons. This kept Karlin occupied and distracted for while...
But not for the 3 hours it took us to get moved into holding. At this point the poor thing hadn't had food for 16 hours, and nothing to drink for almost 6 hours. She was thirsty and cranky and hungry and scared. We went into the holding room at 2:25, prepared for a 20 minute wait. It was more like 45 minutes. FINALLY at 3:15, they took her back. She was SO BRAVE. Bart and I were saying goodbye and we loved her and yadda yadda yadda. She was chatting up the nurses and the anesthesiologist. We went to a little "conference room" to wait, and exactly 12 minutes later the doctor came in. He said it had gone great, and that her adenoids were huge. She should see a vast improvement in her ability to breathe and her quality of speech. (Note: Dr. Dickhead has been downgraded back to Dr. Important. We instructed him - with the support of Karlin's pediatrician - NOT to put tubes in her ears. And he didn't, and surprisingly didn't give us any crap about it. His nurses and PA all seemed amused that we were going against Dr. Important's instructions, but when they brought out the revised consent, it just read "adenoidectomy." )
Anyway - 4 hours of waiting for a 12 minute surgery. At least it was over. So the nurse told us to go grab a bite and a drink, and come back in 20 minutes. So we came back in 20 minutes and went into the post-op room, expecting Karlin to be wheeled in any minute. But 5 minutes went by. Then 10. Then 20. Just when we were starting to wonder what in the hell was taking so long, a nurse came in and said "Mom, I need to to come back to recovery with me." Bart and I both stood up, but the nurse said "no - just mom." So as we're walking back to the recovery room, I asked what was wrong. She says "I don't know - they just told me to come and get you and bring you back." Insert panic HERE. So we go through the doors, and there's my baby. My tiny baby lying there in the bed - hysterical. Apparently, she didn't come out of the anesthesia very well, and freaked out. She was as white as a sheet, her eyes and lips were all red and swollen, and she was full-out panicked. She was also coughing like she had TB, and couldn't really talk.
Now, anyone who knows mw knows these things about me: I have no poker face. I am a terrible liar. Most time, you can read anything I am thinking or feeling right across my face. So how hard was it for me to smile and be brave and reassuring to her, when inside I was freaking out too, and really wanted to cry? That was one of the single most difficult moments of my life as a parent so far. And I had questions that I couldn't ask the nurse, because I didn't want to scare Karlin any more. Basically this is what I found out: she had come out of the anesthesia disoriented and upset. She was crying for me, and when they couldn't get her to settle down, they came and got me. She was in an unusual amount of pain, so they gave her - hang on to your hats for this one - morphine. So when she was a little cloudy waking up, now she was downright loopy. And she had developed a "croupy" cough, which was concerning them. They wanted to keep her back there for 30 more minutes to monitor her on the pain meds, and wanted to put her on a humidifier for the cough. So for more than a half hour, I sat there and talked to her, gave her sips of water, rubbed her forehead and held her hand. It was awful. I kept thinking - "Why am I back here? I suck at this! BART is the good, solid, calm one! He should be here!" I did manage - with one hand - to text Bart to fill him in. Otherwise he''d have been in the post-op room freaking out himself. Finally, we moved into post-op. She started to get her color back a bit, and was eating a popsickle. She had to keep the humidifier on for awhile, but was still really incoherent. She finally dozed off for 45 minutes, and the nurse said when she woke up if she wasn't coughing we could go home. She woke up about 5:30, crying. When we asked what was wrong - was anything hurting? - she finally said in a loud, croaky voice "I WANT TO GO HOME!" The nurse said "Alrighty, then - let's get that IV out!" Bart went to go get the car, and I asked her if she wanted a wheelchair ride, or if she wanted me to carry her. She asked me to carry her. At that point I would have carried her to the moon if she asked me to.
She slept all the way home. When we got her into the house, so woke up long enough to have a drink of water, ask to be on the couch, and look at the flowers and webkin my mom had sent her. Then she passed out again. She slept for an hour and a half solid, then woke up again just long enough to drink a little. at 10:30, we moved her up into our bed, put her in clean pjs, and she woke up again. This time, she actually looked somewhat lucid. She ate about 1/2 cup of soft cereal, then passed out again. We had to give her medicine at Midnight, and again at 6:00 am.
Bart and I were totally unprepared for how long that whole mess would take, and by the bad condition she was in coming out of the surgery. NO ONE told us it would be like that. We were really worried about her. Thankfully, when she woke up Friday morning, she was back. She ate about 200 pounds of soft cereal during the day, and although her voice is still a little raspy and she has a sore throat when she swallows, she is probably 80% recovered.
Before Karlin had this operation, SO MANY PEOPLE said things to me like "oh - there's nothing to it". or "It's a breeze" or "my kid practically danced out of the hospital" or "my kid ate a whole pizza that very night." Guess what? There was A LOT to Karlin's surgery. It WASN'T a breeze. Karlin STILL doesn't feel much like dancing. And she couldn't stay conscious long enough to eat anything that evening.
I can tell you this, though...there is a tiny little part of me that is so honored that she asked for me, and not Bart. Most girls know that the bond between a daddy and his little girl is a special one. That is even more so with Karlin and Bart. They are so much alike, and sometimes I feel like I'm on a different team. Don't get me wrong -- I am not jealous, and I am so glad they have that special relationship. But a tiny part of me is glad that - on some level - she still needs me. Even if she doesn't really know it.
Today is mother's day, and I am so thankful. I am thankful that my baby is OK. I am so thankful that I somehow found the strength to get her through that, and to get me through that. I hope that the memory of her in that recovery room - it's stuck in my head - goes away soon.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Finger Painting, Ferraris, and Whole Wheat Pasta
OK - as explanation to the whole "flying margarita" thing...you have to go back 2 posts and read "Top 10 Reasons Why I Should Be an Alcoholic". One of those reasons had to do with my inability to relax and let Chase be creative. So I started working on that. The photo is proof that I tried. This would be C's painting on one of our large picture windows. (I painted too - palm trees, fish, margaritas...) Anyway, I let C paint his "island", made up of about 6 different colors all mixed together. I also didn't freak out at the paint splatters on the window or wall (no worries about the carpet - I had put a sheet down.) All in all, I think it was good progress. Today, we colored in a coloring book for a half an hour or so. C did his side, and I did mine. I didn't even freak out when he took his fuchsia marker and began embellishing my wonderful masterpiece "Cow Baking an Apple Pie." It was really, really hard, but I bit my tongue and let him have at it. Hopefully my hard-won restraint will pay off in creative dividends for my little man.
Ferraris are really cool cars. Have you ever seen one up close before? Have you ever ridden in one? Have you ever driven one? Most people I know would answer "no" to all of those questions. But my friend has a bright and shiny red one right in her garage! It is be-you-tee-ful. I have now seen it up close, I hope to get a ride in it someday, and she'd be damned crazy to even think about letting me drive it! Here's the thing: some people might be jealous or envious of this person's car. Some people might make assumptions about this person because of this car (not an unusual occurrence in this relatively wealthy part if Tampa.) But this person really deserves this car. She and her husband worked really hard for a lot of years, and their work has paid off. These people are the some of the kindest, most humble, most caring people I know. They didn't grow up with money, so they appreciate their blessings all that much more. I could not be more excited for my friend - I think it is all WAY COOL. So if you see a hot strawberry blonde chick driving around Tampa in a red Ferrari blaring Aerosmith or Motley Crue, honk and wave! ;)
I'll finish up with the pasta. Who's brilliant idea was it to introduce "Whole Wheat Pasta" into the American diet? Have you tried this stuff? IT SUCKS. The Ronzo sucks. The Mueller sucks. The Publix brand sucks. It's just awful. I mean, I suppose we all want to be healthier. But I wouldn't eat dirt if you told me THAT was healthy. So why in the hell would we eat this crap? I'm fairly certain that they don't eat whole wheat pasta in Italy. (Not 100% certain, but I'm willing to gamble on this one.) Haven't people been making pasta for thousands of years? In all those years, how many times did Whole Wheat Pasta become popular? None. That's because it sucks. I made a "healthy pasta salad" last week. It was so bad, we literally threw it in the trash and ate cereal for dinner instead. So save yourself the trouble and just go ahead and get the good ole pasta that we all know and love. Eating it on occasion isn't going to kill you. However, the taste of the whole wheat crap just might!
PS - keep your fingers crossed for my baby girl - we're going to see Dr. Dickhead to get her adenoids out on Thursday. (see earlier post about Adenoids and Dr. Dickhead...)
Ferraris are really cool cars. Have you ever seen one up close before? Have you ever ridden in one? Have you ever driven one? Most people I know would answer "no" to all of those questions. But my friend has a bright and shiny red one right in her garage! It is be-you-tee-ful. I have now seen it up close, I hope to get a ride in it someday, and she'd be damned crazy to even think about letting me drive it! Here's the thing: some people might be jealous or envious of this person's car. Some people might make assumptions about this person because of this car (not an unusual occurrence in this relatively wealthy part if Tampa.) But this person really deserves this car. She and her husband worked really hard for a lot of years, and their work has paid off. These people are the some of the kindest, most humble, most caring people I know. They didn't grow up with money, so they appreciate their blessings all that much more. I could not be more excited for my friend - I think it is all WAY COOL. So if you see a hot strawberry blonde chick driving around Tampa in a red Ferrari blaring Aerosmith or Motley Crue, honk and wave! ;)
I'll finish up with the pasta. Who's brilliant idea was it to introduce "Whole Wheat Pasta" into the American diet? Have you tried this stuff? IT SUCKS. The Ronzo sucks. The Mueller sucks. The Publix brand sucks. It's just awful. I mean, I suppose we all want to be healthier. But I wouldn't eat dirt if you told me THAT was healthy. So why in the hell would we eat this crap? I'm fairly certain that they don't eat whole wheat pasta in Italy. (Not 100% certain, but I'm willing to gamble on this one.) Haven't people been making pasta for thousands of years? In all those years, how many times did Whole Wheat Pasta become popular? None. That's because it sucks. I made a "healthy pasta salad" last week. It was so bad, we literally threw it in the trash and ate cereal for dinner instead. So save yourself the trouble and just go ahead and get the good ole pasta that we all know and love. Eating it on occasion isn't going to kill you. However, the taste of the whole wheat crap just might!
PS - keep your fingers crossed for my baby girl - we're going to see Dr. Dickhead to get her adenoids out on Thursday. (see earlier post about Adenoids and Dr. Dickhead...)
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