forward

Come here. It's, well, just easier. Not as easy on the eyes, though, but I plan to change that. ::shrug::

running water is not your friend here.

Turns out life wants to kick a doozy of a hacky sack into my face. The past three days have been nothing but combinations of "what the..." to "oh, my goodness." And that's an "o, mg" in a negative sense.

I should probably sum this up in a rather un-me-like fashion. I've been weaning myself off of FFXI slowly and trying to get to bed by one -- I know that some may consider this to be quite late, but, then again, I'm not known for being some people. Because of this change in sleeping habits, I don't know how much I can stay awake for blogging-wise.

And yet I ramble.

Tuesday: peej's first day off of the week. He's pretty cranky because his store is getting reamed for things that they can't help, and also because his days off have been fucked up beyond belief and therefore ruining any plans he may have made for the next year. I'm in the midst of potty-training Lor, and after a very successful run she tells me that she needs to use the bathroom. We run over there, and she begins to push her lower abdomen. Puzzled, I pull her off the toilet and begin to wipe her off. There's a pinkish-red spot on the wipe. At this point she's crying, so I cradle her in my arms while calling peej. After a few moments, I sneak a peek at her vaginal area. It's stained with blood.

Now, I know what it's like to have a bladder infection -- many, in fact -- so my first instinct is to call the consulting nurses at Group Health and have them tell me to bring her in. After they do that, peej and I zoom her over to Urgent Care. "Urgent" meaning "Well, we'll see you today, but we can't guarantee when..." Our nurse was a godsend, but our doctor (whom I later found out was actually a PA) didn't have the best bedside manner in the world. It also didn't help that my baby had to endure a tiny speculum as well. Speculum = not so much fun for an adult female, so I couldn't bear to imagine how my three year old with the petite frame felt.

After getting about three drops of urine for a urine culture (and this is after three Pedialyte popsicles and two and a half hours of waiting through the screams -- she had a bag adhered to her bottom to catch the urine), they sent us home with a follow-up appointment for two in the afternoon. It was 9:35, and not wanting to eat fast-food, I forgoed dinner and collapsed on the couch after reading one quick chapter of LOTR:TTT.



...



damn, I guess I'll just end up staying up late. At this rate, I might as well finish.


...


Wednesday: Lor seems fine, and takes her medicine when peej comes home irate from work. Apparently, Scott (the pharmacist) had trouble filling her prescription because the PA had put for the dosage "fill according to weight."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" he had said. eek. Can you imagine if pharmacies had to weigh you for prescriptions? I can imagine the self-conscious (or just pro-privacy) people in the world in an uproar.

I took Lor back to Group Health for visit with her pediatrician. Twenty dollars of a co-pay later, the nurse tells us that our visit is pretty much useless, since the preliminary lab results take at least 24 hours, and the definite ones 48. Cue an angry peej right about... 36 hours ago.

If Lor does have the bladder infection they think she does, she'll have to have a renal ultrasound done. Much easier to deal with than the cathether she'll have to endure if she gets another infection. eek.

So, on the way to pick up the Slurpee that we promised Lor (as well as some kitty/puppy food), I call my mom to update her on Lor's condition. Yeah, my dad's in the hospital for a kidney stone. At that point, had been there for almost 12 hours. In his moments of excruciating pain, he even drove himself to work. Thanks, Mom, for filling me in. Nobody in this family tells me anything.

Then, when I come home to watch Joseph while she goes to see Dad, she goes and tells me too much when she opens the floodgates about how mad she is at him. (sigh) I finally had to shove her out of the door, telling her to just get his location from the people at the big desk in the Medical Mall (I love Madigan...).

Today [actually, Thursday as I post this]: Starts out pretty uneventful... my dad went back to the hospital, where they told him that they wanted to do surgery the next day (exploratory or what, I don't know). Then, around 5:15, BAM! I walk into the bathroom after Joseph uses it and notice some pink fluid on the floor. When I looked in the toilet, I saw a red clump. Blood clot. Crap.

He flushed the toilet before my dad could see it, but about eight minutes later, my dad watched him force out another clot. When my mom got hom, they took him to Madigan. They're still not home yet, and it's almost one.

Oh my, it's almost one. Well, my connection dropped (I'm typing this in Notepad), and I'm too tired to deal with the modem at the moment so... this could've waited to be typed until morning. Oh well. (sigh)









ADDENDUM: Well, Joseph has something... medical with the words "hemmorage" and "cyst" in them. It may be due to an infection, which would explain his bladder troubles of late. (Another reason I haven't been online blogging as well.) Dad has his surgery at noon, and they may have to take Joseph back today too. I should be getting a call regarding Lor's lab results today sometime.

All this urinary stuff all at once? Man, Dr. Ahearn would've given me the weirdest look if I would have known all this was going to happen and reported it with the "family members with similar problems" thing. All this coinciding at the same time, along with "father - kidney stone; mother, maternal second cousins, maternal greatgrandmother, multiple bladder infections; paternal aunt - kidney infection"... craaaaazy.

in general.

I can't sleep.

It's probably due to the fact that I haven't been getting to bed until close to three for the past two nights. It's really going to mess with me soon, I just know it.

I've been incredibly social (for me) the past two weeks. First, a dinner date with daYooper, Pasha, and the Maester; then yesterday (it's still dark, so it's still "yesterday" to me) a quickie with Jam, Jam's girl Becky, L1, and Becky's friend Raina/Reina (I'm going to put both attempts because I'm not going to assume the spelling, having been the victim of failed assumptions all of my life). I'll venture to say that I feel I know Becky pretty well, so it was nice to be able to talk to Miss R. a bit, seeing that we have a similar connection outside of Becky and Jam. She also has cute glasses. I approve. :D

I bought a bubblegum pink skirt as well, with the assistance of tM. He's been my saving grace this summer, making my time more than just Lor time or peej time. He's also good for clothes shopping and cell phone gabbing, something that I probably wouldn't subject anyone else I know to (well, maybe L1).

tM and I were talking about what we would be if we were rich. I'd be a shoe addict, since I'm practically starving when it comes to shoe consumption. He'd be a tech addict (I'd leave that to peej), and a Gap addict. I don't know -- I can find clothes I like in just about any store, and I like to mix and match pieces I have, too. For instance, the other night I was wearing a denim jacket from Mervyn's, an Old Navy white tee, and my pink skirt from JCPenney's. Mixing and matching is fun when it comes to clothes. XD

When I was in the car with peej, he had this CD he bought at work playing. It made me realize something: a) I can only appreciate 80s music so much; and b) said 80s music would probably have to be New Wave or standard pop for it to be appreciated. Hair metal just isn't my thing.

"Angst" was my word of preference last night... and, really, I'm just an angst-ridden fool when it comes down to it. I'm sopping wet with it, and I prefer being this way. I don't really know how to be otherwise.
It's not like I don't want to be happy -- on the contrary, I live a fairly content life. It's just that I can appreciate a good ponder and a good mope. I like to question things in my head, and wonder. I tend to stop myself before said pondering gets out of hand, so it's a safe angsty. It's definitely the source of inspiration for me, that's for sure.

My source of angst today probably stems from writing in general, and if I can build a career around it. I don't know if there's really room for another film/music/game reporter (probably should've just written "media", beh). Other than becoming a high school English teacher, I don't know how I'm going to incorporate writing into my professional life. :S It'd be easier, and more financially productive, if I went into a different field (graphic design, editing), but would it be betraying the aspirations I've had since childhood?

(sigh)

... so pfft. I'd better go before more of my moodiness creeps from my fingers to the page to the susceptible hearts of the few who would actually read this. >.(\/) <-- me with a claw