Tuesday, September 28, 2010

It could be worse... right?

Despair. I thought I was feeling despair. That's cute.

I should KNOW better than to say stuff like that because sure as shit as soon as it leaves my lips (or my fingertips), then it then becomes a big open invitation for the Universe to say, "Oh yeah? You thought that was bad? Wait till you get a load of this..."

I was diagnosed with severe left side horizontal BPPV. And despite two visits to my family doctor and 3 visits to a physiotherapist who has been performing the *"Epley Maneuver" on me, I still suffer. In fact I am sleeping pretty much sitting up, can not sleep on my left side, must not bend over, look down or up or tilt my head to either side.

That's a load of fun with two little kids.

Like when I bent over to help Ruby put on her shoes and I had an "episode" and fell down.

Or when I leaned over to pick up Lincoln and I lost my balance and stumbled.

And the looks you get when you are standing in line at the grocery store with your kids in the stroller and you rock back on your heels.

If only that was all I was dealing with. But no...

A day after the vertigo returned, I noticed that Lincoln had been super fussy. And warm. I took his temperature and realized he had a fever. One which Tylenol wouldn't bring down. Which is a bad thing. Babies that age are not supposed to get fevers.

So with vertigo, I was in and out of emergency rooms with Lincoln no less than three times. The first night we were in the hospital until 2am. Two different nurses took turns trying to get viles of blood out of his chubby little arm, poking him three different times and digging around in his arm trying to find a vein while I had to hold him down and he SCREAMED and SCREAMED. They gave him a catheter which was NOT a good time either. And before we left they gave him an antibiotic injection in his little thigh.

The whole time I wanted to die inside for what he was going through. And each time I tried to lay my head beside his naked, little, overheated body the room spun hard and I had to clutch the hospital bed.

That night there was pretty much no sleep.

Vertigo is aggravated by fatigue.

Then there was a blur of more emergency room visits, physio treatments for me, doctor and pediatrician appointments.

Eventually it was determined that Lincoln has a urinary tract infection (from **bubble bath?!!??). He will be on antibiotics for a week. Hopefully his diaper rash will clear up soon too.

During this time we found that Ruby had a giant boil (GROSS!) on her ear - which disturbed me greatly but I didn't have the energy to fuss too much about it and it thankfully went away.

Over the past week or two any little bit of normalcy or routine that I had established has been completely wiped out. We are in full on survival mode. Ruby has eaten more meals of goldfish crackers than I care to admit and Lincoln has been reverted back to sleeping in my bed with me at night and has spent far too much time in his baby swing. There have been moments when I was sure I was not going to survive, yet I dare not be so foolish as to label this time with anything such as Hell, Purgatory, or ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BRUTAL. And I dare not say that I am feeling despair. Because... I know that things could be worse. And I do not wish to temp the Universe to show me how "good" I have it right now. So I will endure. I will survive. I will get through this.

And when it's over I am going to be kicking some ass because life will seem soooo easy. Right?


*The Epley Maneuver is extremely effective in treating vertigo. It is suspected that I had vertigo on both my left and right side which is why the treatments haven't fully worked yet.

**WHY did I not know that bubble bath is a leading cause of UTIs in kids??? I swished Lincoln around in the tub with Ruby while she was having a bubble bath, trying to kill two birds with one stone. The bubble baths are now gone. Nobody gets bubbles anymore - despite Ruby's protests..


Anonymous said...

I've been following along with your tweets and thinking of you. I wish I lived closer and could swing by with a dinner for you.

Mommy Shoes said...

I am so very sorry. I wish there was something more I could do for you.

Emily said...

OMG honey - this all sucks some serious ass. I'm so sorry you're going through all this. I think we need a pity party (with loads of booze!)

You are amazingly strong - hang in there! xoxo

justine said...

Here from LFCA ... sending my best thoughts for a speedy recovery ... you definitely a tall cool whatever you'd like the virtual lounge to serve up. I argue that you're kicking ass now ... the fact that you're still coherent is amazing.

Emily said...

Awful. Not cool. I'm SO sorry. This is seriously the LAST thing you need right now (or ever).

I hope SOMETHING will help you get better, because this shit sounds agonizing. Just thinking about it (and I haven't been there) makes me dizzy and feel yucky in my tummy.

The worst. I'm so sorry.

Srinks should wait. But the invite is still open. Sorry about L also. I can't even imagine... Feeling awful while your child is going through that. *shudder* I'm sorry.


VA Blondie said...

Here from lfca. I am so sorry. I hope it gets better soon.

areyoukiddingme said...

Here from LFCA:

I'm so sorry you're dealing with vertigo - I've seen several people in my workplace with it, and I can see how annoying it is. Plus it freaks you out. And with two little ones - well, stress can't be helpful either. I hope it passes soon.

I've lived in fear of bubble baths since I was about 8 years old, when I asked to have one and my mom told me I'd get an infection! I'm guessing it must have happened to one of my sisters. Sorry to hear your little guy is suffering from that.

Dora said...

Here from LFCA. So sorry you're going through all this at once. Just thinking about all the needle sticks and catheter your boy had to endure makes me shudder. My mother keeps wanting to squirt scented crap in my baby's bath. She gets pissed off when I say no.