The one where I complain some more

No, no pictures yet. Because I suck. Because I'm too busy with our festival of snot. And pain filled cavities of bacteria infested snot. My eye sockets feel like I've got one of these being ravaged around inside them.









Looks painful eh? Oh hell ya!

My teeth feel like someone has been taking a hammer to them whilst I sleep. Who knows when that has been, because despite me having to keep my excrutiatingly tender eyelids shut to keep out painful triggers like retina burning sunshine (oh but what is that? It has been nothing but clouds & snow here.) for the majority of the day, it's been a good long time since I've had a snooze that lasted more than 3 hours at a time. Because either Doodle Bug is coughing, feverish or sleeping fitfully, or I wake myself up coughing & then I have to haul my ass out of bed so I can hork up chunks of green phlegm.

Oh sorry, did you not want to know that?

My bad.

This morning I got diagnosed with a sinus infection & was given scripts for antibiotics, decongestant / expectorant & was then offered one for vicodin. Though I was sorely tempted I figured it might not be a great thing to offer up in one's breastmilk. The doc told me if I waited for at least 4 hours before nursing it would be ok but since the little coppertop is still not well, she doesn't have much of an appetite for the solid food & wants to nurse more often than that. So alas, no vicodin. Just three extra strength Advils at a time. Even then, they are not quite enough to dull the pain completely.

We were then sent up to the pediatric office again because the Doodles wasn't looking too good either. We'd been there Friday for the pink eye (given drops - cleared up over the weekend) & were lucky to once again be fit in between the regular appointments & the head trauma that was on it's way. Since the xmas holidays emergency visits the poor baby has been traumatized & freaks out every time she sees a doctor's office / stethescope / syringe / inhaler mask / friendly nurse or doctor. Once she starts freakin' her breathing gets worse. So... more traumatic treatments & more crappy breathing. Today she got another start to a round of steroids & puffer meds to use in the nebulizer & to top it all off, antibiotics for an ear infection. We're also shoving advil down her throat for pain & fever.

It feels like we've had the plague for months & I'm so sick & tired of being sick & tired. If I'd known it was going to last like this I would've bought some shares in Kleenex or Puffs or Advil. Please somebody take me out back & put me out of my misery.

Grounded

We were supposed to be back in Seattle by now. We arrived in Ottawa on the 30th after having a grand time in St. John's, hanging out with Sugar Daddy's family & celebrating Christmas. Doodle Bug had a runny nose before we left, but we weren't sure if was because of the tooth she was cutting or if she caught something from her cousins. On the plane ride she started coughing & seemed irritable & tired. It got worse from there.

She woke up with a fever the next morning & got progressively hotter & sicker throughout the day. Her nose was running profusely, she was coughing & sneezing & really really grumpy. We did the Tylenol infant cold treatment but by late afternoon she was burning up. I've never felt her that hot before & her breathing was starting to become really shallow, rapid & wheezy. When she started getting listless & unresponsive on top of all this we figured it was time to get some treatment. Being New Years Eve & a Sunday all the walk in clinics had closed at 3:00 so we had no choice but to go to emergency at CHEO.

Seems there was quite a number of other babies & tots there with the runny nose, cough & fever thing so we thought we were in for a long wait. The triage nurse had other plans however because once she assesed the terrified babe with breathing difficulties she sent us to the mask room where two other infants were being treated with what looked like steam. We were taken to a treatment room where we got a mask of our own that was filled with ventolin in a saline solution (this is how I understand it at least). The medicated vapor burbles out of the mask for 10 minutes at a time & she was to get three treatments in a row. I tried to hold her but the little fighter put up too much of a struggle for me to contain so her daddy got to do the dubious honours. Oh what a mess. She got some Tylenol & Advil to take down her high fever & then had to take a liquid steroid (prednisone I think). We had to wait 4 hours after the steroid was administered before we were allowed to go home so we spent hours rocking her, reading, eating crappy food & listening to wailing babies & kids. Strange how it all becomes background noise after a while.

Because she had been exposed to her cousin with pnemonia we were told she'd have to have a chest & heart x-ray to rule out the possibility of her symptoms being the result of having that herself. Count yourself lucky if you've never had to witness your small child get a chest x-ray. Holy fuck - it was the most heartbreaking sight. I had to place her on this little bicycle type seat with her legs dangling beneath her. Then I had to hold her arms up straight above her head while the technician placed two pieces of plexiglass around her torso, pinning her arms in place. The pieces were velcroed together so she was stuck in this clear tube with only her feet & face free. The feet kicked in protest as she screamed (good for the xray but not my heart) & cried trapped in the evil contraption. At first she faced the wall away from me but then she was turned to the side so she could see me out of the corner of her eye. The look of terror & the sadness of betrayal pretty much broke me to pieces. I'll never be able to wipe that picture from my mind. But hey, no pnemonia so we were finally able to head back to my aunt's place where we were (& still are) staying.

We fought the fever & the poor breathing all night & no one got a good night's sleep though we were all exhausted. The next morning she seemed a bit better but wouldn't eat, had no voice, was still running a fever though not nearly as bad & was beside herself with uncomfortableness. The previous day all she would eat was two mandarin oranges & one eighth of a jar of baby food. The day before that she had also not eaten much but was nursing quite a bit. With all the breastmilk & no solids we were back in seedy liquid diapers that we hadn't experienced in months. All the acidity from that plus the irritation of the urine bag the night before (plastic baggy stuck to her skin to get a urine sample) gave way to terrible diaper rash. So the poor kid was having teething pain, burning privates, sore throat from being sick & screaming, fever off & on, chest congestion & breathing difficulties. I've never felt so useless in trying to make my baby comfortable.

Then her breathing got worse again. Her rate was probably triple what it normally is, very shallow & raspy. We decided to head over to CHEO again because the ventolin puffer (with spacer) wasn't controlling it anymore despite having administered it every two hours & then every twenty minutes. We could see the panic developing in her eyes & she was exhausted from just breathing. Once again the triage nurse sends us for treatment right away & we start round two of the masks. Thankfully tonight there will be no chest xray, pee bag or steroid gel being shoved into her mouth. Just some Advil for her hoarse throat that was barely able to squeak out her protests against her torture. She fell asleep during the mask treatments but would wake up with terror in her eyes everytime one of the fantastic nurses came in to check on her. It was so pitiful & I was at the end of my wits trying to keep back my tears.

Oh ya. Then she got the mucus augered out of her nose. That was fun. I got to hold her legs while hubby held her head & arms as the nurse suctioned out the snot. At least they diagnosed something from it. Turns out the poor sweetie has RSV. Most kids will get this virus before the age of three & it normally presents itself as a cold. Some kids are apparently at risk for a more severe reaction to the bug than others, like preemies & those with respiratory problems like asthma. From what I gather those that get a severe bout are then more likely to be diagnosed with asthma later, but whether it's because they had that in the first place that made them more prone to a severe attack or if the RSV triggered the asthma no one seems to know.

So we pretty much have our diagnoses of asthma with the obvious difficulties she was having, her response to the drugs & her over-inflated lungs in the chest x-ray. The RSV has been a miserable bugger but as of today, after sleeping about 20 hours in the last 24, she seems to be coughing a bit less. When we spoke to the doctor about having to travel the next day she expressly forbade us from getting on a plane for at least the next 5 days, if not a week so we are grounded until Sunday at the very least. I guess that means we technically now have the time to see the people we have not had a chance to see yet, but I don't want to take the Doodles around anyone who has wee ones as we're not sure how long she will be contagious. We are armed to the teeth with medicine & Sugar Daddy got a script for a nebulizer (same type of machine that the hospital uses to make the vaporous ventolin) so we've been using that to keep her lungs as clear as we can. I can't say enough about the awesomeness of CHEO & their wonderful emergency staff. Hopefully none of you will ever have reason to use their services, but if you do, you will be in the best of hands.

Anyway, just thought I'd keep you all up to date even though I'm making you suffer with piss poor writing skillz. I'm exhausted & sick & so full of leftover xmas food that I'm almost comatose. Ugh.

Non-emergency Emergency

I hate the thought of using emergency healthcare when it’s not warranted. It’s such a waste of resources & time that should be saved for real emergencies. Unlike calling 911 to get directions or to complain about Burger King not getting your order right. Or to go to an emergency department for a migraine & then sit for 3 hours on the free phone complaining to your pal about how your boyfriend doesn’t love you & you are pissed because your narcotic patch ran out two months ago & there are kids screaming & how that is so not cool. Lady, what’s not cool is you. If I had a migraine (which I get quite regularly) I certainly wouldn’t be able to talk on a phone, never mind sit in a loud & well-lit waiting room.

Get the impression we checked out some more healthcare? Yup. Within a month of moving down here Doodles & I got sick. We put her in the daycare at the gym for an hour & a half one day & two days later she came down with a cough that she gave to me & which then got worse for both of us. I suspect it turned into bronchitis, at least for me, & it took forever to go away. Then it sort of came back again but not as bad & it coincided with the shots last week, plus what I think is more teething. Anyway she’s been sounding like a mangy tobacco-smoking purring cat for ages now & the past few days there’s been a lot of coughing & hacking that disturbs her sleep & my worry. I asked the person when we got the shots about her possibly having asthma but after a stethoscope listen she said she sounded congested but fine.

Yesterday she got a bit worse & I could hear her wheezing. She sounded tight, congested, phlegmy & her breathing was almost twice her normal rate. Last night when I was nursing her I got Sugar Daddy to take a listen & he wanted to call the doctor. Microsoft Health has a number you can call to get advice & to request an actual house call (I thought those were pretty much obsolete but I guess MS has got the power) so he dialed them up & explained the situation. Upon describing her symptoms they told us to call 911. Huh? We are both asthmatic so we knew she wasn’t that bad. What we were hoping for was a house call or be told to go to the Urgent Care Center (vs. hospital) so we could get her an inhaler with a spacer or nebulizer just in case she got worse. A preventative line of attack. That’s what we requested so they told us they’d get a doctor to give us a call.

He calls & tells us he doesn’t want to prescribe without a definite diagnosis of asthma which he doesn’t feel comfortable making during a home visit. OK That’s cool. Totally understandable. He suggests the urgent care but then calls us back & says they don’t want to do that either & so therefore we should go to the nearest emergency room. Great…. I picture sitting forever in an uncomfortable waiting room filled with a variety of sick people. I picture the sleep disturbed baby not wheezy when we finally get to see a doctor. I picture boredom, frustration & futility.

What I pictured is what we pretty much got despite Sugar Daddy telling me that since we are in America now there won’t be long Canadian style wait times. Two & a half hours after arriving the Doodles gets weighed, temped (where she’s never been temped before the poor, poor thing) & assessed at level 4 because since she’s screaming so much the triage nurse says there’s nothing wrong with her lungs. There’s 5 levels & we are on the second to last so anyone worse that comes in after will be seen before us. One more hour later, during which she dozed off, we finally get called in. A super nice nurse checked her out without waking her, said she wasn’t wheezy & another twenty minutes later the doc comes in & almost does the same. Of course she wakes up when he’s checking her ears, so then he does the rest of the check while she’s half awake & getting upset. He doesn’t want to make a definite diagnosis either since he doesn’t know her history, etc. but he will prescribe an inhaler with a spacer for her that we can use if she gets really wheezy again. So we don’t have to use the emerg unless it’s an emergency. So not so futile in the end but definitely a lot of boredom & frustration felt.

Now we have an inhaler with a spacer & a mask for her which we’ve used twice. She freaking hates having the mask put on her face despite us trying to make the experience as fun as possible. We show her the pictures of the bears on the spacer & tell her she needs some bears in her chest. She’ll play with it & point happily at the bears but as soon as it nears her face she pushes it away & gets pissed off. But, it works. The breathing is smoother, clearer & there’s less purring. Too bad she still has the temper of a mangy cat.

Shots

Yesterday we got a taste of the U.S. healthcare system. Yesterday I tried not to cry while singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” to keep my baby’s mind off her pain. And to drown out the screaming as two nurses held her down with me while they injected her with some mean looking sharps. Yesterday the Doodles got 6 shots in her chubby little thighs. It would’ve been more but on seeing the needles I asked to save the flu shot until later. I didn’t really want her to get it anyway because any time I’ve received one I’ve been sick for about a week. (Yes I know you are not supposed to be able to get the flu from the vaccine but... ) Sugar Daddy on the other hand wants her to get it – he’s never had a problem with stuff like this. Me, I’ve read enough on the possible side effects, as well as the benefits, so as to not have a clear decisive opinion on whether or not she should get it.

She also got a Hepatitis B vaccine. The leaflet on this explains that those at risk are those having unprotected sex, iv drug users, etc. Strange, but I don’t think my 1 year old child fits into any of these categories. Nor do I think that she will have much contact with the at risk population until she’s a few years older.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not anti-vaccine. We love the vaccines here. It’s just that some of the info I was handed afterwards made me think. Plus the fact that it was handed out afterwards rather than discussing it all beforehand kinda pissed me off. I guess it was because the entire visit was odd & stressful. The whole experience was similar & yet so different from what I’m used to. I’ve had the same doctor for the past 12 years minus a year or so of seeing a doctor on campus while in school & the odd walk-in clinic & specialist visits. In the past 12 years I’ve never had to worry about finding someone new to check out my lady parts or prescribe me medication because I knew I could always rely on my family physician if I needed or if I didn’t like what the walk-in clinic did for me. I may not have agreed with everything she said but she was always nice, patient, kind & treated me like an intelligent participant in my own healthcare.

One of the issues on my mind about moving to the States was the status of our healthcare coverage. I needn’t have worried & in this I know we are extremely lucky to have Sugar Daddy working for a company like Microsoft. It appears that everything we need is covered from doctor’s visits to massage therapy. With this group plan we get access to wide range of providers that are listed on a website. I just type in our address & up pops a list of who’s available in my area. It’s just a list though & so I’m left scratching my head trying to make a decision based on the sound of someone’s name in my brain. Since we don’t know anyone here it’s hard to get a recommendation based on personal experience. With Doodle’s next round of immunizations coming up & our suspicions of her having asthma I took the plunge & called one of the three nearest set of doctors. The closest one I wrote off because of her pro-life stance & religious affiliations – just not my cup of tea. That left a community clinic & a medical office. I went with the clinic because it was slightly closer (like a block, lazy ass) & the idea of community sounded caring & inclusive.

It was definitely inclusive. I’d like to think that I don’t have a problem with this but apparently I have some issues. Not with who is being provided for or the expertise of the providers but with the feeling that I was being treated as undereducated or lacking some intelligence. It wasn’t the personal treatment per say but rather, the questionnaires I had to fill out, the repeated questions (already answered on the forms) from the assistant, the nurse & then the medical person, and the assortment of pamphlets I was given afterwards, that gave me this impression. Questions concerning my coverage, my living status (married being the last available option), monthly income, what type of housing (if at all) I was in, if I was a drug user, alcoholic, or smoker. Questions regarding my baby about how much formula (surprise! She gets the boob & for this was called lucky) she took, whether she still took a bottle (uh... she neverreally did?), how her naps & sleep habits were (naughty me for continuing to co-sleep), how much food she ate a day & whether she was hitting all the usual milestones. It wasn’t what the questions were about that got to me, but that I was asked them over & over again like I either wasn’t telling the truth or I was a little too dense to understand what the truth was. I don’t blame the askers – it is their job after all – but it really just didn’t make me feel very comfortable.

And this discomfort makes me feel like a spoiled snob. Which in turn makes me uncomfortable with myself. But at the same time I'd like to think that anyone coming from what I've been accustomed to would feel the same way. The questioning was so over the top for me that I didn't even think to ask what vaccines were being given to my child. I was expecting to go in to get a checkup, talk about the breathing issues & schedule an appointment for the shots. I was so flustered I didn't even get a chance to write down her new measurements. Weight = 18lbs something. Height = ? (at home she's 27") Head = ? I was told she was somewhere around the 40 - 45 percentile for it all so at least I received some information.

The people were nice & they were competent. I just don't think they were the right fit for me which means I’m not going back there despite the fact that Doodles is supposed to go for another round of Hep B shots in a month. Instead I’ll call medical professionals number 3 on my list. Maybe this time we’ll even get to speak with an actual doctor about our concerns. Hopefully I won’t have to feel as though I’m being spoken slowly to &, hopefully, we will find someone who I can eventually appreciate as much as I do my old doctor.

I miss her.