Good evening, and thanks again for reading.
Tonight's update is a bit overdue, and for that, I apologize. However, the past few weeks have been extremely hectic.
Our son was due to arrive this past Sunday, the 19th, and as you may have read, he chose to grace the world with his arrival 3 weeks early.
Grayson is now home, and in our arms. After a very long stay in the local NICU for respiratory distress, he's where he belongs. It has officially been his first week home, and it's been joyous, stressful, and hectic, all at the same time. He's healthy, putting weight on like a champ, and doing everything a newborn is supposed to do.
It was decided by the doctors who treated him, that he was well enough to come home, but that he needed to come home on oxygen assistance, which has made life that much more challenging. We have to do the obvious things that every newborn needs done. However, we have to do it all while carting around an obscenely sized oxygen tank, and should we choose to take him out of the house, we have to cart around a backpack with a smaller, but equally frustrating oxygen tank along with all of the other baby necessities. Is it impossible? Absolutely not, but it certainly forces you to do things in a much different fashion, and at a much slower pace. I feel that both Mrs. J and I have learned much over the past several weeks, many things that I hope that no new parents should ever have to learn for themselves.
I learned, faster than what I believe anyone is prepared to learn, just how willing to fight you are when it comes to your child. Especially when it comes to the care they receive. We had the fortune of having our son treated at the best hospital in our state, but it was far from a perfect hospital. The NICU he was admitted to is rated as a top 10% NICU in the country (or so I am told), and is said to employ some of the brightest doctors in pediatric trauma and intensive care around. But, that doesn't make them perfect. On numerous occasions, I was placed head to head with doctors, nurse staff, and hospital administration, for a myriad of reasons ranging from over-zealous security practices, failure to communicate with Mrs. J and I, and even little things like ignoring his monitors when they alarmed, or personal space.
Without getting too in depth, I'm sure you've got questions, so I'll elaborate on a situation or two that we were faced with:
Situation one:
This hospital takes security to an absolute extreme. Now, me being the person that I am, can normally appreciate a "maximum security" approach. However, it was so extreme, that it bordered on silly. Perhaps it's common practice in a NICU, but my son's grandparents were not allowed to visit him in our absence, or without one of us present at all times. Even when we offered to sign a waiver allowing them access to our son in our absence, especially given that we were commuting 45 minutes a day, each way, to visit him. This led to grandparents from both sides driving that same 45 minute commute, and being able to only visit with him for about 30 minutes each day. When I brought this matter to hospital administration, there was zero grounds for flexibility - we were told that it was for "our security," and that there was absolutely zero tolerance for bending this rule.
I get it. I really do. The last thing the hospital wants is for some jackwad to run in and start snatching up babies. However, the NICU resides behind two sets of access controlled doors, one of which can only be opened to the parents by dialing to our local Department of Public Safety, having them verify you're "on the list," and opening the door remotely (which, the geek in me thinks is unbelievably rad). The second set of doors can then, only be opened, by phoning the nurse's station inside the NICU, and again being verified as on the list, and being let in. Once you make it through the gauntlet of security, you then have to verify your identity via a special wristband you're given upon your child's admission. No wristband? You don't get to see your child. No exceptions. It felt almost like we were trying to get into a super exclusive night club, what with all the list-checking, and the wristband Nazis.
So, given the Pentagon style security that resides at this hospital, I found it ludicrous that I was unable to authorize my own parents to visit their grandchild without me present.
Situation two:
Now, I want to preface this scenario with this - the majority of the nurse staff taking care of my son were fantastic. They were sympathetic, informative, and respectful of us as parents. However, on a few occasions when we visited, there were less than stellar nurses caring for him. On one specific visit, we watched his nurse bustle about the wing, completely ignoring his monitor, that had been alarming for over ten minutes (just since we had arrived, possibly longer). Once I was frustrated enough, I tracked her down, only to have her roll her eyes when asked to inspect and silence his monitor. My wife, being the amazingly polite and caring woman that she is, even apologized for bothering the nurse. This sent my frustration levels through the roof for two reasons.
A) She shouldn't be apologizing for the nurse not doing her job.
B) The nurse having the audacity to tell her, "It's okay, he's just being paranoid."
So, as you can imagine, I promptly involved the charge nurse, and had him assigned to a different caregiver.
I do acknowledge the fact that, yes, as first time parents, this whole ordeal was a situation of Jurassic Park like proportions. I also recognize that to a NICU, respiratory distress and breathing issues are business as usual, and in the grand scheme of things, not that big of a deal. However, the nonchalance of many caregivers they employ, was downright astonishing to me.
This brings me to my next point: communication.
In my line of work, communication is absolutely critical. Poor communication can be disastrous in what I do, so I would expect communication to be a top priority to a neonatal intensive care unit. But it was the furthest thing from it. This very issue led me to multiple strongly worded conversations with doctors, and even more stern conversations with hospital administrators. That was until he was assigned the most amazing nurse in all of nursedom. Yes, nursedom. That's a thing, you might want to write it down. We'll call this nurse "Slinky."
Slinky was fantastic. She took the time to meet with Mrs. J and I one-on-one, address our concerns, and treat us like humans. She also made it her mission to call us each and every time there was update-worthy news. Slinky radiated as someone who loves their job. On more than one occasion, she'd challenge a doctor's orders, and on more than one occasion, she was pulled into a private office, and reamed for doing so. But Slinky didn't care. Slinky cared about our son, and was bound and determined to get him home as soon as medically possible. And she did it. I firmly believe, that without nurse Slinky watching out for our little man, that he'd probably still be in the hospital. Nurse Slinky even went as far as coming in on her day off, saying to hell with the hospital's overtime rules, and overseeing his discharge so that we'd have minimal dealings with the two doctors we had gone head-to-head with over the course of his stay. Nurse Slinky deserves a damn medal.
I don't want this post to come across as simply derogatory in regards to the hospital, because there were plenty of good things about it. But, the negative things about this extremely emotional experience just resonate so loudly with me, that I feel it necessary to bitch about them on the internet.
What was also perplexing to me, about this hospital, is that you were unable to have a face-to-face meeting with the doctor, one-on-one. To meet with a doctor regarding our son's care, it required not only the doctor, but an army of no less than four nurses, and a hospital "social worker." While I'm sure these measures were to prevent finger-pointing and exaggerated complaints, they were extremely intimidating. Half the time the doctors refused to answer questions themselves, and simply deflected them to their army of scrubs. While we only had a few of these meetings (usually following rude and intolerable behavior from the doctor to prompt them), they were extremely difficult to conduct in a productive manner. After one of these meetings, we were also informed that the doctor performing 90% of our son's care was almost brand new to the field, and straight from the charge nurse's mouth, "overreacts to most ailments, and tends to take extreme post-discharge measures."
Mind you, this is all simply from my perspective. There's a very high probability that during his hospital stay, that I did, in fact, react extremely to much of the news we received. There's also a high likelihood that I didn't give some of our son's caregivers a fighting chance. But, who knows for sure?
All I will tell you, is that I would never wish an experience like ours on my worst enemy. It was emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting. I'm nothing short of thrilled that our boy is home now, and in our arms, and in our care. But the ride to get this far has been bumpy.
I will keep you all updated as things change, and I've got a few more posts planned out. But, I've droned on for so long, I'd be surprised if you're still reading.
Until next time, I bid you adieu!
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
An Unexpected Arrival
Good evening, everyone.
This update is going to be rather large, so please be patient - a lot has gone on over the past week and a half.
First, and most important, is that on 27 April, 2013 at 21:52, our son, Grayson was born. He was born three weeks, two hours, and eight minutes early.
Here is our story:
Early in the morning on 26 April, around 03:00, Mrs. J awoke with very sharp nausea and back pain, which resulted in her spending most of the morning throwing up. At some point, during trips to the restroom, she contacted the local hospital, as no doctor's offices were available (obviously!). They advised her that she may be in labor, and that she needed to make sure her bags were packed, as they suspected she'd be in shortly.
Fast forward to about 08:00, I woke up, and she very simply stated to me: I think I'm in labor. So, I had her schedule an appointment as soon as the office opened, and we went. After waiting over an hour past her appointment, the doctor called her back, and hooked her up to a fetal NST (non-stress test), to measure the baby's heartbeat, and to see if she was having any contractions; which it turns out she was.
After some time on the NST machine, we were sent down the street to the Labor and Delivery ward, where Mrs. J was admitted for observation. Through the course of her blood draws, it was discovered that she had a severe case of philo nephritis, and her kidneys were swollen, which caused her to start having contractions. At this point, she was 3cm dilated, and 80% effaced as of 15:30 on the 26th. However, the doctor was not convinced she was in labor, as the contractions were sporadic, and not patterned. So, Mrs. J was to be kept overnight for a 24 hour collection of urine for sampling, and to continue monitoring the contractions, as well as administration of antibiotics to treat her infection and kidney swelling.
The nurse staff came back in around 19:00, to recheck her cervix, which was still 3cm dilated, but she was 90% effaced. She disappeared for around 30 minutes, only to return with the statement, "The doctor definitely thinks you're in labor." At this point, I simply sighed, as my Google-fu and research while waiting, had led me to this conclusion about four hours earlier (granted, I'm not a doctor, but I'm also not an idiot).
At around 20:15, the doctor came in to tell us that she wouldn't be stopping the labor, but wouldn't be aiding it along, and to just wait it out, as she still wasn't 100% convinced this would turn into true labor, and thought it would stop as soon as the antibiotics kicked in. Boy, was she wrong.
At around 22:00, the doctor returned to check Mrs. J's cervix again, which was now 4cm dilated, and about 95% effaced. At this time, the contractions had come closer together, and it didn't appear that labor would be stopping. An epidural was ordered, and we were told to settle in for the long haul - it looked like our boy was coming early.
I slept very little that night, I believe only around 2 hours, if that, even. Mrs. J slept very soundly thanks to her epidural, and boy, was she going to need it.
Throughout the night, nurses were coming back to check the progression of labor, up until about 09:00, where she hit 5cm. It was at this time the doctor gave us a set of choices:
-Break her water, and let labor accelerate with medical assistance.
-Leave the epidural in, but let the labor process continue naturally.
-Take the epidural out, go home, and wait it out there.
It didn't take much discussion for us to make a decision - we were given excellent odds by the doctor, since the baby was almost 37 weeks; she presented a 2% chance that the baby would have any issues, and a 98% chance that everything would be perfect, and he'd go home with us. We gambled the odds, with them being presented so favorably, and had the doctor break Mrs. J's water. Shortly after the water was broken, a drip of Oxytocin was administered to assist in dilation.
Although, in retrospect, the Oxytocin didn't do much to help, as she endured almost an entire second day of contractions and labor.
At about 21:10, Mrs. J began to feel the need to push, and the nurses came in to start the show. I will spare the gory details, but 42 minutes after pushing began, our little angel graced our world with his presence. He was born a very healthy 7.2lbs, and 19" long. Shortly after he was out safely, and his cord cut, we were informed by the doctor that though she originally cancelled the order for urinalysis, she opted to have the collected samples tested anyway. Mrs. J tested very positive for pre-eclampsia, as she had a strong protein presence in her urine. Based on this data, the doctor stated she would've scheduled an induction for early the following week, to ensure the health and safety of the baby. I'd heard of pre-eclampsia/toxemia before, but never looked into how dangerous it is to unborn babies.
Mrs. J was allowed to have our son skin-to-skin, for only seven hours. During this seven hours, she was unable to get him to breastfeed successfully. It wasn't until the latter half of those hours, that the nurse staff, who previously determined he was 100% healthy, decided to recheck his oxygen levels. Lo-and-behold, they were extremely low, and his respiration was extremely fast, explaining why he wouldn't eat. He was whisked away to the nursery ward, and inspected by a pediatrician. It was the pediatrician's determination that he needed to be transferred to a hospital 30 minutes away, and placed in the care of their neonatal intensive care staff.
We were already stressed at this point, from the past two days' events. You can only imagine what we felt when we discovered our son had to have special attention, from a crew in another city, because this hospital was unable to determine exactly what was wrong with him.
I broke down. She broke down. We both, for lack of a better phrase, lost our shit. I pride myself on how stone-faced and difficult to read I am. That day, however, I was an open book. I can't remember another time in my life where I've cried so much. Even when I was in the hospital myself, not long ago, I never once cried, even in the face of my own expiration. I came to terms so easily with what happened to me... But my son, that's a different story. So helpless, and unknowing. But, I composed myself, and we drove on.
Fast forward to today. Our son has been in the NICU for almost 11 days, and his progress has been amazing. Unfortunately, the doctors, if they know what's exactly wrong with him, haven't told us. All they've told us was that he was received in respiratory distress, but that they don't know what's perpetuated the issues he's had - be it immature lungs, underdeveloped lungs, or an infection. For the first 7 days he was in the NICU, he was on high-flow oxygen with inhalants to help his lungs work, and mature. His first day in, he was given Curosurf, which is a synthetic surfactant, administered to infants with immature lungs, that helps increase their natural production of surfactants, which allow their lungs to expand and contract without sticking. After those 7 days, he was taken completely off of oxygen, and we were told that he was doing great, all that they were waiting on was the completion of his antibiotic.
Grayson was being treated proactively for infection, as the doctors caring for him had a suspicion that Mom's kidney infection may have caused pneumonia in our son, but were unable to confirm this. Grayson's chest x-rays have shown fluid, but not enough to conclusively prove pneumonia vs. amniotic or pre-birth fluid. His CBC labs were only slightly elevated, so they were ruled inconclusive.
Over the past 10 or 11 days, his food intake has increased exponentially every day, and his breathing has remained stable. All things positive. We were told yesterday that he was being prepped for discharge, and we were asked to stay at the hospital this evening to "room-in" with him, to prepare for his departure. That is, until about 20:00, where they administered their "car seat challenge," post-feeding. During this "challenge," Grayson's oxygen levels began to desaturate once again, and he began respirating very quickly again.
So, our elation was shattered, as he will not be coming home tomorrow, or the next day, or even this weekend. He was placed on oxygen once again, albeit a very low dosage, through a low-flow canula, to stabilize his breathing. The offer was made, that he can come home on low-flow oxygen, but to Mrs. J and I, this was an unacceptable determination. Grayson has been in their care for almost two weeks, and we will not allow him to be sent home at sub-100% health.
Unfortunately, with the uncertainty behind what is actually causing his respiratory distress, we resort to the waiting game once again. His doctor this evening suspects that if he did, in fact, have pneumonia, the inflammation in his lungs may not be gone, thus causing him to breathe abnormally.
I can say this, for sure, that the amount of unknowns in his care have been extremely troublesome. I know that with as many factors surrounding his birth, there are a lot of variables. However, with the cost involved in his care to this point, and the 24/7 attention, some part of me thinks that there has to be some way for them to determine exactly what is causing the issues with his breathing.
This last week has been the most trying time in either of our lives. However, together, we've been able to stay strong. I will also say, I believe, that if nothing else, this whole ordeal has helped to make us better parents, and to bring us closer together as a couple.
Please keep our family in your prayers, or thoughts, or whatever your beliefs lead you to do.
Thanks for reading, and we'll keep you updated.
This update is going to be rather large, so please be patient - a lot has gone on over the past week and a half.
First, and most important, is that on 27 April, 2013 at 21:52, our son, Grayson was born. He was born three weeks, two hours, and eight minutes early.
Here is our story:
Early in the morning on 26 April, around 03:00, Mrs. J awoke with very sharp nausea and back pain, which resulted in her spending most of the morning throwing up. At some point, during trips to the restroom, she contacted the local hospital, as no doctor's offices were available (obviously!). They advised her that she may be in labor, and that she needed to make sure her bags were packed, as they suspected she'd be in shortly.
Fast forward to about 08:00, I woke up, and she very simply stated to me: I think I'm in labor. So, I had her schedule an appointment as soon as the office opened, and we went. After waiting over an hour past her appointment, the doctor called her back, and hooked her up to a fetal NST (non-stress test), to measure the baby's heartbeat, and to see if she was having any contractions; which it turns out she was.
After some time on the NST machine, we were sent down the street to the Labor and Delivery ward, where Mrs. J was admitted for observation. Through the course of her blood draws, it was discovered that she had a severe case of philo nephritis, and her kidneys were swollen, which caused her to start having contractions. At this point, she was 3cm dilated, and 80% effaced as of 15:30 on the 26th. However, the doctor was not convinced she was in labor, as the contractions were sporadic, and not patterned. So, Mrs. J was to be kept overnight for a 24 hour collection of urine for sampling, and to continue monitoring the contractions, as well as administration of antibiotics to treat her infection and kidney swelling.
The nurse staff came back in around 19:00, to recheck her cervix, which was still 3cm dilated, but she was 90% effaced. She disappeared for around 30 minutes, only to return with the statement, "The doctor definitely thinks you're in labor." At this point, I simply sighed, as my Google-fu and research while waiting, had led me to this conclusion about four hours earlier (granted, I'm not a doctor, but I'm also not an idiot).
At around 20:15, the doctor came in to tell us that she wouldn't be stopping the labor, but wouldn't be aiding it along, and to just wait it out, as she still wasn't 100% convinced this would turn into true labor, and thought it would stop as soon as the antibiotics kicked in. Boy, was she wrong.
At around 22:00, the doctor returned to check Mrs. J's cervix again, which was now 4cm dilated, and about 95% effaced. At this time, the contractions had come closer together, and it didn't appear that labor would be stopping. An epidural was ordered, and we were told to settle in for the long haul - it looked like our boy was coming early.
I slept very little that night, I believe only around 2 hours, if that, even. Mrs. J slept very soundly thanks to her epidural, and boy, was she going to need it.
Throughout the night, nurses were coming back to check the progression of labor, up until about 09:00, where she hit 5cm. It was at this time the doctor gave us a set of choices:
-Break her water, and let labor accelerate with medical assistance.
-Leave the epidural in, but let the labor process continue naturally.
-Take the epidural out, go home, and wait it out there.
It didn't take much discussion for us to make a decision - we were given excellent odds by the doctor, since the baby was almost 37 weeks; she presented a 2% chance that the baby would have any issues, and a 98% chance that everything would be perfect, and he'd go home with us. We gambled the odds, with them being presented so favorably, and had the doctor break Mrs. J's water. Shortly after the water was broken, a drip of Oxytocin was administered to assist in dilation.
Although, in retrospect, the Oxytocin didn't do much to help, as she endured almost an entire second day of contractions and labor.
At about 21:10, Mrs. J began to feel the need to push, and the nurses came in to start the show. I will spare the gory details, but 42 minutes after pushing began, our little angel graced our world with his presence. He was born a very healthy 7.2lbs, and 19" long. Shortly after he was out safely, and his cord cut, we were informed by the doctor that though she originally cancelled the order for urinalysis, she opted to have the collected samples tested anyway. Mrs. J tested very positive for pre-eclampsia, as she had a strong protein presence in her urine. Based on this data, the doctor stated she would've scheduled an induction for early the following week, to ensure the health and safety of the baby. I'd heard of pre-eclampsia/toxemia before, but never looked into how dangerous it is to unborn babies.
Mrs. J was allowed to have our son skin-to-skin, for only seven hours. During this seven hours, she was unable to get him to breastfeed successfully. It wasn't until the latter half of those hours, that the nurse staff, who previously determined he was 100% healthy, decided to recheck his oxygen levels. Lo-and-behold, they were extremely low, and his respiration was extremely fast, explaining why he wouldn't eat. He was whisked away to the nursery ward, and inspected by a pediatrician. It was the pediatrician's determination that he needed to be transferred to a hospital 30 minutes away, and placed in the care of their neonatal intensive care staff.
We were already stressed at this point, from the past two days' events. You can only imagine what we felt when we discovered our son had to have special attention, from a crew in another city, because this hospital was unable to determine exactly what was wrong with him.
I broke down. She broke down. We both, for lack of a better phrase, lost our shit. I pride myself on how stone-faced and difficult to read I am. That day, however, I was an open book. I can't remember another time in my life where I've cried so much. Even when I was in the hospital myself, not long ago, I never once cried, even in the face of my own expiration. I came to terms so easily with what happened to me... But my son, that's a different story. So helpless, and unknowing. But, I composed myself, and we drove on.
Fast forward to today. Our son has been in the NICU for almost 11 days, and his progress has been amazing. Unfortunately, the doctors, if they know what's exactly wrong with him, haven't told us. All they've told us was that he was received in respiratory distress, but that they don't know what's perpetuated the issues he's had - be it immature lungs, underdeveloped lungs, or an infection. For the first 7 days he was in the NICU, he was on high-flow oxygen with inhalants to help his lungs work, and mature. His first day in, he was given Curosurf, which is a synthetic surfactant, administered to infants with immature lungs, that helps increase their natural production of surfactants, which allow their lungs to expand and contract without sticking. After those 7 days, he was taken completely off of oxygen, and we were told that he was doing great, all that they were waiting on was the completion of his antibiotic.
Grayson was being treated proactively for infection, as the doctors caring for him had a suspicion that Mom's kidney infection may have caused pneumonia in our son, but were unable to confirm this. Grayson's chest x-rays have shown fluid, but not enough to conclusively prove pneumonia vs. amniotic or pre-birth fluid. His CBC labs were only slightly elevated, so they were ruled inconclusive.
Over the past 10 or 11 days, his food intake has increased exponentially every day, and his breathing has remained stable. All things positive. We were told yesterday that he was being prepped for discharge, and we were asked to stay at the hospital this evening to "room-in" with him, to prepare for his departure. That is, until about 20:00, where they administered their "car seat challenge," post-feeding. During this "challenge," Grayson's oxygen levels began to desaturate once again, and he began respirating very quickly again.
So, our elation was shattered, as he will not be coming home tomorrow, or the next day, or even this weekend. He was placed on oxygen once again, albeit a very low dosage, through a low-flow canula, to stabilize his breathing. The offer was made, that he can come home on low-flow oxygen, but to Mrs. J and I, this was an unacceptable determination. Grayson has been in their care for almost two weeks, and we will not allow him to be sent home at sub-100% health.
Unfortunately, with the uncertainty behind what is actually causing his respiratory distress, we resort to the waiting game once again. His doctor this evening suspects that if he did, in fact, have pneumonia, the inflammation in his lungs may not be gone, thus causing him to breathe abnormally.
I can say this, for sure, that the amount of unknowns in his care have been extremely troublesome. I know that with as many factors surrounding his birth, there are a lot of variables. However, with the cost involved in his care to this point, and the 24/7 attention, some part of me thinks that there has to be some way for them to determine exactly what is causing the issues with his breathing.
This last week has been the most trying time in either of our lives. However, together, we've been able to stay strong. I will also say, I believe, that if nothing else, this whole ordeal has helped to make us better parents, and to bring us closer together as a couple.
Please keep our family in your prayers, or thoughts, or whatever your beliefs lead you to do.
Thanks for reading, and we'll keep you updated.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
The Mortality Consideration
Greetings, once again!
Life has a funny way of throwing you curve balls, especially when you least expect it.
At the beginning of March, I fell extremely ill. It started one day, where I thought I had the flu. Some Googling of my symptoms struck me with extreme panic, as it normally would. I plugged my symptoms in, and the first result that popped up was about sepsis. Queue the anxiety. I had almost every single symptom that it listed. So, I left work early, and booked it to our local hospital. I waited, and waited, and was finally seen, only to be told, "Oh, it seems as if you may have viral bronchitis, but we'll give you an antibiotic, just to be safe."
I mentioned to the doctor, whom I later found out was only a physician's assistant, that I was frequently ailed by boils, and that my symptoms aligned very closely with sepsis - to elaborate, high fever, chills, increased heart rate, etc..., which she laughed at, and told me that if I was even borderline septic, I wouldn't be walking. So, I took her as qualified, left with my prescription, and went about my day.
Only, less than 14 hours later, the boil that I mentioned to this PA had grown to disgusting proportions, and my symptoms were even worse. After careful inspection, Mrs. J insisted that we return to the hospital. Once admitted to the emergency room, and after blood cultures were taken, my suspicions were confirmed - I was indeed borderline septic due to a severe skin infection, and had I waited much longer, I could've died. This normally easy to treat boil had gotten so bad, that I ended up being admitted for emergency surgery, and a 5 day hospital stay.
You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all of this, but don't worry: I'm getting to it.
After spending some time speaking with several doctors, of many different flavors, I was told that I was in a very serious condition, and they continued to stress that, had I waited, I would likely have expired. This got me to thinking about my mortality, and what would've happened, had the worst case come to fruition. My son would've been left fatherless, my wife without her husband and partner, and I would never have gotten to meet my son. This thought terrified me even more than the thought of death. In my youth, death was never something that scared me - it's a fact of life. People live, and people die. Leaving spirituality aside, for the sake of neutrality, I've never been concerned with what lies beyond. I've made my choices in life, and I have no real regrets. But, the thought of leaving my son behind, and never getting to watch him grow up... Now, that absolutely mortified me.
During the course of my hospital stay, and God only knows how many blood tests, draws, and cultures done, the medical staff were concerned with the state of my blood sugar. Unfortunately, given the extreme state of infection in my body, they were unable to discern whether the elevated blood sugar was a result of infection, or as a result of diabetes.
At my second follow-up appointment, post surgery, it was discovered that I am, in fact, a type 2 diabetic. After consulting with my primary physician, I was put on a very, very strict diet, in the hopes that it can be reversed.
This has put a lot of things into perspective for me, most notably how much we are willing to sacrifice for the sake of our children. Had this happened two years ago, I'd likely have scoffed at the doctor, and continued eating how I wanted, and ignoring his advice, selfish in my ways. But, when he sat there, berating me for how I eat, and prescribing this awful diet, I didn't care one iota. Sure, it bummed me out that I can't pig out on sushi anymore, but the only thing going through my mind was, "I don't care, I'll do whatever it takes, so that I can be there to watch my son grow up."
Sure, it absolutely sucks, but at least I have answers as to why I've been ailed for so long with various issues, and I caught a potentially life threatening (if not treating properly) condition, before it was too late. Now, so long as I follow my doctor's orders, I can live long enough to watch my son get married, have his own children, and hopefully I will die old, having lived a very fulfilling life. I don't have anyone to blame but myself, and it's time to grow up and fix it all.
Mrs. J has been nothing but supportive, going as far to comply with the diet I'm on as much as she possibly can, and giving me the necessary moral support to stick with it. I've been blessed with the most amazing woman in the world as my partner in life, and I couldn't ask for anything more.
Through it all, I've certainly realized my mortality, more than I ever have before. You grow up, generally healthy, living your life, never thinking about how quickly it can all come to an end, or how even the most simple of things can make it happen. I've learned through this experience, that you can't ignore even the little things, because you never know what it might be.
I'm sure this post my seem a bit morbid, but I felt that it was something worth sharing, because it's not something that I think a lot of people put much thought into.
On a brighter note, only 5 weeks, 6 days, until our little man enters the world (providing he decides to come on time)! His room is almost done, and it's almost time to reveal his name to the whole world.
Until next time!
-J
Life has a funny way of throwing you curve balls, especially when you least expect it.
At the beginning of March, I fell extremely ill. It started one day, where I thought I had the flu. Some Googling of my symptoms struck me with extreme panic, as it normally would. I plugged my symptoms in, and the first result that popped up was about sepsis. Queue the anxiety. I had almost every single symptom that it listed. So, I left work early, and booked it to our local hospital. I waited, and waited, and was finally seen, only to be told, "Oh, it seems as if you may have viral bronchitis, but we'll give you an antibiotic, just to be safe."
I mentioned to the doctor, whom I later found out was only a physician's assistant, that I was frequently ailed by boils, and that my symptoms aligned very closely with sepsis - to elaborate, high fever, chills, increased heart rate, etc..., which she laughed at, and told me that if I was even borderline septic, I wouldn't be walking. So, I took her as qualified, left with my prescription, and went about my day.
Only, less than 14 hours later, the boil that I mentioned to this PA had grown to disgusting proportions, and my symptoms were even worse. After careful inspection, Mrs. J insisted that we return to the hospital. Once admitted to the emergency room, and after blood cultures were taken, my suspicions were confirmed - I was indeed borderline septic due to a severe skin infection, and had I waited much longer, I could've died. This normally easy to treat boil had gotten so bad, that I ended up being admitted for emergency surgery, and a 5 day hospital stay.
You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all of this, but don't worry: I'm getting to it.
After spending some time speaking with several doctors, of many different flavors, I was told that I was in a very serious condition, and they continued to stress that, had I waited, I would likely have expired. This got me to thinking about my mortality, and what would've happened, had the worst case come to fruition. My son would've been left fatherless, my wife without her husband and partner, and I would never have gotten to meet my son. This thought terrified me even more than the thought of death. In my youth, death was never something that scared me - it's a fact of life. People live, and people die. Leaving spirituality aside, for the sake of neutrality, I've never been concerned with what lies beyond. I've made my choices in life, and I have no real regrets. But, the thought of leaving my son behind, and never getting to watch him grow up... Now, that absolutely mortified me.
During the course of my hospital stay, and God only knows how many blood tests, draws, and cultures done, the medical staff were concerned with the state of my blood sugar. Unfortunately, given the extreme state of infection in my body, they were unable to discern whether the elevated blood sugar was a result of infection, or as a result of diabetes.
At my second follow-up appointment, post surgery, it was discovered that I am, in fact, a type 2 diabetic. After consulting with my primary physician, I was put on a very, very strict diet, in the hopes that it can be reversed.
This has put a lot of things into perspective for me, most notably how much we are willing to sacrifice for the sake of our children. Had this happened two years ago, I'd likely have scoffed at the doctor, and continued eating how I wanted, and ignoring his advice, selfish in my ways. But, when he sat there, berating me for how I eat, and prescribing this awful diet, I didn't care one iota. Sure, it bummed me out that I can't pig out on sushi anymore, but the only thing going through my mind was, "I don't care, I'll do whatever it takes, so that I can be there to watch my son grow up."
Sure, it absolutely sucks, but at least I have answers as to why I've been ailed for so long with various issues, and I caught a potentially life threatening (if not treating properly) condition, before it was too late. Now, so long as I follow my doctor's orders, I can live long enough to watch my son get married, have his own children, and hopefully I will die old, having lived a very fulfilling life. I don't have anyone to blame but myself, and it's time to grow up and fix it all.
Mrs. J has been nothing but supportive, going as far to comply with the diet I'm on as much as she possibly can, and giving me the necessary moral support to stick with it. I've been blessed with the most amazing woman in the world as my partner in life, and I couldn't ask for anything more.
Through it all, I've certainly realized my mortality, more than I ever have before. You grow up, generally healthy, living your life, never thinking about how quickly it can all come to an end, or how even the most simple of things can make it happen. I've learned through this experience, that you can't ignore even the little things, because you never know what it might be.
I'm sure this post my seem a bit morbid, but I felt that it was something worth sharing, because it's not something that I think a lot of people put much thought into.
On a brighter note, only 5 weeks, 6 days, until our little man enters the world (providing he decides to come on time)! His room is almost done, and it's almost time to reveal his name to the whole world.
Until next time!
-J
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
The 5:00 Redesign
Insomnia is a cruel, cruel creature.
...And, it tends to result in random acts of webdesign.
Added a new logo, nothing too fancy - basic fonts built into Windows, with a little recolor and stroke action.
Looking at the prior template I was using, it was a tad too psychedelic for my liking, so I found a more visually appealing, softer layout.
Had I the time, or the gumption, I'd tear down all the walls, and redesign a custom layout, but ain't nobody got time for that.
Hope you all enjoy.
...And, it tends to result in random acts of webdesign.
Added a new logo, nothing too fancy - basic fonts built into Windows, with a little recolor and stroke action.
Looking at the prior template I was using, it was a tad too psychedelic for my liking, so I found a more visually appealing, softer layout.
Had I the time, or the gumption, I'd tear down all the walls, and redesign a custom layout, but ain't nobody got time for that.
Hope you all enjoy.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
The Shower Ascendancy
As promised - your weekend update.
As you know, Mrs. J's baby shower was this last weekend, and it was a resounding success.
Due to my limitless skepticism, I anticipated a colossal failure, but was pleasantly surprised at how many guests showed up. Of 22 RSVP's, we had only 3 no-shows. Although, knowing how poorly some people can adhere to commitments, I feel blessed that we had the turnout that we did.
Being our first child, we were flying somewhat blind into baby shower territory, not knowing how long it should last, what activities would be deemed enjoyable, or what the proper social protocols to follow during the event were. Even in spite of that, though, it went very smoothly.
All of the ladies in attendance seemed to have a genuinely good time, and my male compatriots and I sequestered ourselves to the back yard, and had a good time cooking, chatting, and relaxing.
Most important to me, though, was that Mrs. J, the star of the show, thoroughly enjoyed herself. For the first time in a long time, she had a day all about her.
The most notable event of the shower, though, was everyone's willingness to participate in the craft we planned out - everyone in attendance was asked to paint one of 26 wall hanging letters, in any pattern or design they like, with the colors we made available. Though not one person, aside from my wife, our son's godmother, and I knew what the end result would be, they all ate it up, and had a great time doing it. Even more surprising, was the amount of effort that every single one of them put into it (even the guys in attendance).
Following the paint-fest, and a barbecue lunch for everyone, were a couple of less exciting games, and then the gift giving began. Both Mrs. J and I were absolutely stunned at both the amount of gifts our son received, but also that our registry was almost 100% completed following it.
And while there were out of town family members unable to attend the shower, we were able to include them through the attachment of a notebook computer and a webcam to our television, and the utilization of Skype's group call function, making it so that everyone could participate in the event.
I look forward to being able to post up all of the photos from the event, although it'll likely have to wait until after his birth - we wouldn't want to spoil the name for anyone... and I'm waiting until I make the final decision whether to migrate this blog to another host, with a less terrible image capability.
All in all, I am certainly pleased with how well the shower turned out, and even more importantly, Mrs. J is even more thrilled with how it turned out.
So, until next time, stay tuned for another update.
-J
As you know, Mrs. J's baby shower was this last weekend, and it was a resounding success.
Due to my limitless skepticism, I anticipated a colossal failure, but was pleasantly surprised at how many guests showed up. Of 22 RSVP's, we had only 3 no-shows. Although, knowing how poorly some people can adhere to commitments, I feel blessed that we had the turnout that we did.
Being our first child, we were flying somewhat blind into baby shower territory, not knowing how long it should last, what activities would be deemed enjoyable, or what the proper social protocols to follow during the event were. Even in spite of that, though, it went very smoothly.
All of the ladies in attendance seemed to have a genuinely good time, and my male compatriots and I sequestered ourselves to the back yard, and had a good time cooking, chatting, and relaxing.
Most important to me, though, was that Mrs. J, the star of the show, thoroughly enjoyed herself. For the first time in a long time, she had a day all about her.
The most notable event of the shower, though, was everyone's willingness to participate in the craft we planned out - everyone in attendance was asked to paint one of 26 wall hanging letters, in any pattern or design they like, with the colors we made available. Though not one person, aside from my wife, our son's godmother, and I knew what the end result would be, they all ate it up, and had a great time doing it. Even more surprising, was the amount of effort that every single one of them put into it (even the guys in attendance).
Following the paint-fest, and a barbecue lunch for everyone, were a couple of less exciting games, and then the gift giving began. Both Mrs. J and I were absolutely stunned at both the amount of gifts our son received, but also that our registry was almost 100% completed following it.
And while there were out of town family members unable to attend the shower, we were able to include them through the attachment of a notebook computer and a webcam to our television, and the utilization of Skype's group call function, making it so that everyone could participate in the event.
I look forward to being able to post up all of the photos from the event, although it'll likely have to wait until after his birth - we wouldn't want to spoil the name for anyone... and I'm waiting until I make the final decision whether to migrate this blog to another host, with a less terrible image capability.
All in all, I am certainly pleased with how well the shower turned out, and even more importantly, Mrs. J is even more thrilled with how it turned out.
So, until next time, stay tuned for another update.
-J
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Work in Progress
Quick update:
I do have an update planned for sometime this weekend.
However, I'm currently mulling over the idea of migrating the site to a custom domain hosted at WordPress, with an easier to read and more functional layout. As it stands, the Blogspot/Blogger platform is great for basic use, but it's a huge pain in the ass to do anything of importance with.
At this point, Mrs. J and I are mulling over the cost involved, as we hope to keep this blog running postpartum, to keep our friends and family apprised to our child's growth, milestones, and awesomeness.
If anyone's interested in donating to the cause of migration, leave a comment, or e-mail me directly (for those who have my e-mail address), as donations toward the $170 (ish) cost would be gratefully accepted.
Stay tuned.
-J
I do have an update planned for sometime this weekend.
However, I'm currently mulling over the idea of migrating the site to a custom domain hosted at WordPress, with an easier to read and more functional layout. As it stands, the Blogspot/Blogger platform is great for basic use, but it's a huge pain in the ass to do anything of importance with.
At this point, Mrs. J and I are mulling over the cost involved, as we hope to keep this blog running postpartum, to keep our friends and family apprised to our child's growth, milestones, and awesomeness.
If anyone's interested in donating to the cause of migration, leave a comment, or e-mail me directly (for those who have my e-mail address), as donations toward the $170 (ish) cost would be gratefully accepted.
Stay tuned.
-J
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
The Party Excitation
Greetings, once again.
It's been about 2 months since our last update, although for once, this was largely beyond my control. A short stint in the hospital, plus some home recovery time, sapped my will to do much of anything. Toss that in with the catch-up game at work, and it makes for a pretty quiet blog.
Hopefully, that's all behind us though, and we're now only four days away from Mrs. J's baby shower.
Normally, being a man, you don't care much about baby showers (or at least, I haven't in the past). And truthfully, leading up to ours, I wasn't all that interested. However, over the past two weeks, as it's gotten closer, I find myself being more and more interested in it. While I don't have any particular interest in participating in the party itself, I've been more active in the facilitation. Chasing people down for RSVP's (or not), making certain that all of the materials have been procured, and that everything is on schedule.
Although, in this two or so weeks, I've discovered an interesting dynamic, that perhaps we are unique in experiencing - people don't like to commit to an event. Mrs. J ordered and received her shower invitations by February 20th, mailing them out the following day (all local mail), requesting RSVP's from all invited parties by March 12th. Pretty reasonable request, right? Apparently not. It wasn't until two days later that our first RSVP was received, and until yesterday that we finally received what I can only hope is the final headcount. Mind you, this was after I personally chased down numerous people who were invited, and asked them if they were coming or not. Most people were simply the victims of intent - planning to RSVP, but simply hadn't. A few legitimately couldn't make it, but forgot to reply, and a few people simply blew it off.
Perhaps I'm simply being myself - the eternal pessimist, in the assumption that if I didn't chase it down, nobody was going to RSVP. Perhaps those peoples' intentions were there, and that they had truthfully planned on it, who knows?
What I find curious, though, is whether people understand how much that yes or no can impact the course of an event. An impact that Mrs. J is now victim to, as she had to have her cake order in by a specific date. She had her order in on that date, but the number based off of the people who had RSVP'd on time. So now, we find ourselves in a situation where there is likely to be an insufficient cake supply to feed all attending persons, simply because people couldn't be prompt in their response. And that's just too damn bad.
Fortunately, being in charge of the actual food for the event, I anticipated this happening, and waited a bit longer than necessary to purchase all of it.
People are a curious thing, as they seldom consider the impact their actions have on the flow of things. Something that people wouldn't normally see as a big deal (example: RSVP on time), can cause the biggest of hiccups.
On a more positive note, all is; at least thus far, well on the baby front. We're now 31 weeks and counting - just weeks until our little man is here in our arms, and we couldn't be more thrilled. While there was some prior concerns with placental placement, and other things the general public would find gross, those have since cleared up, and it looks like Mrs. J is well on her way to a natural delivery.
Our latest appointment went very well, with the doctor reassuring my concerns around baby snatching, and baby mix-ups. Our local hospital takes these things very seriously - so seriously, that the maternity ward is locked down from anyone who does not have the current day's pass card, and utilization of electronic monitors attached to Mom, Dad, and Baby.
I'm hoping for an update next week, following the party, but we'll see. You all know how it's gone in the past when I've tried placing a timeline on updates.
So, until next time, I hope all is well in your lives.
-J
It's been about 2 months since our last update, although for once, this was largely beyond my control. A short stint in the hospital, plus some home recovery time, sapped my will to do much of anything. Toss that in with the catch-up game at work, and it makes for a pretty quiet blog.
Hopefully, that's all behind us though, and we're now only four days away from Mrs. J's baby shower.
Normally, being a man, you don't care much about baby showers (or at least, I haven't in the past). And truthfully, leading up to ours, I wasn't all that interested. However, over the past two weeks, as it's gotten closer, I find myself being more and more interested in it. While I don't have any particular interest in participating in the party itself, I've been more active in the facilitation. Chasing people down for RSVP's (or not), making certain that all of the materials have been procured, and that everything is on schedule.
Although, in this two or so weeks, I've discovered an interesting dynamic, that perhaps we are unique in experiencing - people don't like to commit to an event. Mrs. J ordered and received her shower invitations by February 20th, mailing them out the following day (all local mail), requesting RSVP's from all invited parties by March 12th. Pretty reasonable request, right? Apparently not. It wasn't until two days later that our first RSVP was received, and until yesterday that we finally received what I can only hope is the final headcount. Mind you, this was after I personally chased down numerous people who were invited, and asked them if they were coming or not. Most people were simply the victims of intent - planning to RSVP, but simply hadn't. A few legitimately couldn't make it, but forgot to reply, and a few people simply blew it off.
Perhaps I'm simply being myself - the eternal pessimist, in the assumption that if I didn't chase it down, nobody was going to RSVP. Perhaps those peoples' intentions were there, and that they had truthfully planned on it, who knows?
What I find curious, though, is whether people understand how much that yes or no can impact the course of an event. An impact that Mrs. J is now victim to, as she had to have her cake order in by a specific date. She had her order in on that date, but the number based off of the people who had RSVP'd on time. So now, we find ourselves in a situation where there is likely to be an insufficient cake supply to feed all attending persons, simply because people couldn't be prompt in their response. And that's just too damn bad.
Fortunately, being in charge of the actual food for the event, I anticipated this happening, and waited a bit longer than necessary to purchase all of it.
People are a curious thing, as they seldom consider the impact their actions have on the flow of things. Something that people wouldn't normally see as a big deal (example: RSVP on time), can cause the biggest of hiccups.
On a more positive note, all is; at least thus far, well on the baby front. We're now 31 weeks and counting - just weeks until our little man is here in our arms, and we couldn't be more thrilled. While there was some prior concerns with placental placement, and other things the general public would find gross, those have since cleared up, and it looks like Mrs. J is well on her way to a natural delivery.
Our latest appointment went very well, with the doctor reassuring my concerns around baby snatching, and baby mix-ups. Our local hospital takes these things very seriously - so seriously, that the maternity ward is locked down from anyone who does not have the current day's pass card, and utilization of electronic monitors attached to Mom, Dad, and Baby.
I'm hoping for an update next week, following the party, but we'll see. You all know how it's gone in the past when I've tried placing a timeline on updates.
So, until next time, I hope all is well in your lives.
-J
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