A week withouth blogging. . . .

. . .is the way I'm closing out the year.  It's been a good week, but I am glad Christmas is over (though Micah has yet to figure that one out as he closed his phone call with me today by saying, "Merry Christmas! I love you! Buh-bye.")

Today was a half-day at work, so just acute visits which make for fast and easy notes.  The staff took all the holiday decorations down (yeah!), and people brought in a potluck of hors d'oevres, baked goods and whatnot that makes for cellulite on the hips and breath of death for those around you (but the cheeses and dips were delicious).

Steve had the children with him all day, so they are dressed like refugees from the rag-bag: Micah has orange sweatpants and a yellow Wiggles shirt with his blue, white striped puppy shirt over it, Thea has on lavender leggings with pink and white polka dots, a yellow Life Is Good shirt that she usually sleeps in under a white University of Maryland sweatshirt.  I regret the days I rush out without putting out clothes for them.  Fortunately they were not seen in public with me, Micah went to the grocery store with Steve.  I'm sure that more than a few mothers looked at that poor child and thought, "Weekend with non-custodial parent, poor thing."

Tonight we've invited a roast chicken in for dinner.  He's currently warming up in the oven so he can be the guest of honor.  Thea has probably already mentally claimed the drumsticks and wings, and she's likely to wolf at least one drumstick and both wings down.

Happy, safe, healthy and peaceful 2010 to all.

Peace on Earth, Goodwill to All

Merry Christmas all.  Stay warm, stay safe and be well. To all those family, friends and just passing through, thank you for reading, thank you for adding flags to the map, thank you for the comments.

Countdown to Christmas

After Saturday's monster snowstorm, I drove down to Maryland to my mother's.  Aside from a ten-mile stretch of I-295 just above the Delaware Memorial Bridge that had an almost un-plowed look to it, the roads were excellent, and almost no one was out and about.

Executive Decision:  The holiday cards got sent today.  No letter enclosed.  It was just time for it to be over and done with.  If I feel like it, I might work on it and send it out in early 2010.  Or not.

Present's got hauled to Oma's on Sunday, and wrapped or bagged today.  (Oma had promised she had wrapping paper, but not in the quantity needed.  A trip to Bed, Bath & Beyond solved that.)

Purchased what I hope will be the last two gifts today, stuffed the children's stockings - also left at Oma's waiting for Christmas morning.

Meanwhile Mom had her second chemotherapy session and afterwards we went to Fran's Nu Image and bought accessories to make her feel and look life her old self.  (We've named the wig "Robespierre" after one of our guinea pigs who looked like a wig on paws.)

Today she had an appointment with the retina specialist who injects my mother's left eye to treat her macular degeneration. Though I love most procedures, I just hung out in the waiting room with my laptop.  Needles and eyeballs meeting just isn't something I want to witness.  I'm a wimp.

10:30 pm back in Princeton, roads clear, but HUGE back up on the Delaware Memorial Bridge so it was the Wilmington/Philadelphia option - and fortunately the gas tank held out until I was back to the Land of No-Self-Service Gas Stations.

Holiday Photos

The 2009 Tree

It only took me two weeks to decorate it, and I am going to leave it up until every last needle falls off.  That's about the only way we'll be able to get it out of the door.

 Micah lights his first candle, Hanukah 2009

(and the house was not reduced to a smoldering pile of ash)

 Micah with his 1st Night of Hanukah presents, a non-flammable menorah

and Llama Llama, Red Pajama

A Jewish Asian Christmas Elf, now you have seen it all . . . .

 

In case you can't read it, Thea's shirt says, "My brother is the naughty one."

 

And Micah's shirt says, "I make noise and trouble."

 

After "A Night of Art and Songs" at YingHua, Micah giving Thea a ride

 

New snowpants, going for their first test drive

 

Bundled up for the first snow of the season, December 19, 2009

They were even cuter, with bright red cheeks, when they came in from playing in the snow.

Fall Photo Update

Just got a chance to play with my new Ohm, which can read my cameras' cards. . . .the joys of a snow day.

Micah at the Farmers' Market at the St. Mary's County Library, October 28, 2009

Thea at Penn's Homecoming, November 8, 2009

The Clone Warriors, Hallowe'en 2009

Thea, Thanksgiving 2009

At Oma's Special Park, November 2009

Micah's Audiogram

His right ear is doing great (finally)!  Dr. Choe asked if we had time for Micah to be tested after the appointment today, sure?  Like I'd say, "No,we have a pressing social agenda that just will not accomodate 15 minutes in the sound booth."

20 decibels (dB) across the board.

The ear can get wet (this was the most thrilling part for Micah).

He only has to wear one BAHA on the left side.

Next appointment in four weeks.

And I spoke with the surgical coordinator to finalize the March 23rd date for the left ear's atresia repair, so it's all good, very, very good.

Roast chicken and tree decorating to celebrate!


Meanwhile, my mother's second chemo is coming up in less than two weeks, and my aunt is hospitalized at UNC Medical Center, so anyone offering up good thoughts being used for Micah and his hearing/ear, please redirect that positive energy their way.

Saturday Update

It's snowing outside - the weather forecast yesterday predicted snow squalls, but the mushy snow I walked through to get to the mailbox and to load stuff for Goodwill in the back of my car is more of a snowstorm versus a 'squall'.

Our garage is turning into something the show 'Hoarders' would be interested in, so I was out there trying to bring a little order into the chaos and trying to find the book "Venus Envy" to mail out to the nice person who purchased it from my half.com store.

Meanwhile, a roast is in the crockpot, and I have a free hour to get caught up on blogging.  The Christmas tree is sitting on the landing, waiting for me to get the motivation or inspiration to put the lights on it.

News tidbits for the week:

This coming week we have another follow-up with Dr. Choe.  Micah's ear canal has been without stents for almost three weeks.  He seems to be doing so very well with talking.  This morning, in the middle of a tiff with his sister, Micah asked her in the clearest of voices, "Why are you angry with me?"  It was just so cute. 

This past week there was a classroom shuffle at Micah's school.  Three children including his friends from the parent-infant group days, Dov and Connor, have moved into Micah's class; two children moved on to another teacher.

We have a new cousin !  And the kids seemed excited to hear the news.  On December 4 the family and the world welcomed Emma Quinn, whose birth promoted her sister Elise to big sisterhood. 

Yesterday both children came back to the office after school, usually it's just Micah.  Once they devoured some of Earla's birthday cake, ran through the halls (hours had ended for the day), we went down the street to to a place I've purchased our Christmas tree in the past.  They had fun running through the rows of trees looking for 'the one' - my eye fell on a beautiful, tall tree, but it had a $125 price tag and would need a step ladder to be able to decorate it.  We settled on one slightly smaller and half the price, and it's still enormous.

Countdown to Chemo. . . .

Back to Maryland again.  My mother's first chemotherapy session is tomorrow, and so on one of the biggest car-travel days, I'll be heading back down to Maryland.

Yesterday I crossed over the NJ Turnpike on my way home from work and the southbound lanes were a solid parking lot (I work just above Exit 5, if the reader is a coinnoiseur of the Turnpike); it looked like the northbound lanes were also starting to slow to a crawl.  That was Saturday at about 3 pm.

Fortunately things were relatively quiet at work - it's always a bonus when we're finished and the staff can go home by noon, and call has been almost nil.

So I'll get four to five hours listening to the Philadelphia and Baltimore oldies stations, reliving high school and college - and feeling like a bit of a geezer.

Happy Thanksgiving to the Blog-o-Sphere

I am thankful that blogging is free, considering the costs and lack of availability of good therapists these days.

I am thankful for all those who have helped Micah make such gains in his language skills, and I am doubly thankful he doesn't talk in his sleep, so we do get a break for a few hours each day.

I am thankful for a million other things, I could type until my fingers are nubs, but I'll spare you.

To all those who are celebrating Thanksgiving, enjoy!  On this Thanksgiving, I will be missing my father, German dumplings, my grandmother and sauerkraut with pork spare ribs, not necessarily in that order.

We got our 'free' turkey breast from Shop Rite, so one of these weekends I'll try to make the dumplings and sauerkraut.  It's just not Thanksgiving without it.  My mother starts cooking it early in the day, so by the time I was up for breakfast, I could grab an early bowlful - which annoys her to no end.  Sauerkraut rules!

Back and Forth

Down to Maryland on Friday the 13th, back on Sunday the 15th.

Saturday Thea, Mom and I made our Fall pilgrimage to the National Lutheran Home - and because we left Micah with Steve, we made it there earlier than usual, so the baked goods and fudge had not been ravaged by hordes of carbohydrate-craving Lutherans and the Home's staff.  Thanks to Thea's bladder, we scored a fabulous parking spot - I pulled up to let Mom and Thea out after Thea said she had to pee, Mom swung out to the trunk, yanked her walker out and popped it up and the two of them trotted off to the ladies' room.

All of this was witnessed by the staff member directing traffic, and he let me park right in front of the building right in front of the No Parking sign.  Thanks again to my walker-slinging mother and my daughter's bladder.  Usually we park on the shoulder of the road, and my mother insists on not being let out of the car at the curb, so she slogs across the grass, leaves and uneven ground with the rest of us.  The great parking spot was motivation to shop and make periodic drop-offs rather than having to carry the loot around.

Best of all we really got to shop, since no one had to make sure Micah's little fingers were up to no good.  I love him, but Micah is a man in motion, both physically and verbally.

After shopping and lunch we went over to see our former neighbors - and for round two of shopping.  Mom wanted a baby quilt and doll quilts, I wanted doll quilts (either for presents or for May 2010's Q is for Quail / Quilt week at Micah's school.)

The kids and Steve got to hang out at the indoor pool at the hotel - and Micah's ear did not get wet he was proud to say at school on Monday and we went for a late dinner at Silver Skewers.  Luckily it was after 9pm and the restaurant was empty (though people were in and out for take-out orders) so Micah in his ansty-pants mode didn't disturb any other diners.

Sunday Steve got to use his Redskins tickets and we went over to Oma's and to Olive Garden for dinner.

And the damn Redskins won. But it's the first win of the season.

Truly I Fear for Them . . . .

Between all three of the people I live with there is such a dearth of simple observation of surroundings, it just boggles my mind.  Before looking for anything on their own, most of the time, it's "Mom, where is. . . .?"

Mom, where is the back of my truck?  (Between the easel and the cabinet, right where you left it.)

Mom, where is my white phone?  (It's silver, and it's out in the garage on the blue table, and it needs batteries.)

Mom, where are my Pikachu and Raichu Pokemon cards?  (I have NO IDEA.  Nobody's perfect and there are too many of those damn cards floating throughout the house.)

We had a set of keys missing for a few days.  Steve's.  He let Thea get out at the mailbox, fetch the mail and run it to the house.  Somehow in the unloading of the car, dumping of the lunchbox and backpack and tossing off the coat, no keys.

And while he thought they were in the house, there was the off chance that Thea could have closed the mailbox and left the key in the lock.  The ring has a car key, the mailbox key and our house key on it, and while our neighborhood is relatively quiet and crime-free, the idea of keys being out in the universe somewhere was just a wee bit unsettling.

Supposedly Steve, both with and without his accomplice, tore apart the house several times without any luck.

Saturday we put a sign up at the mailbox (with his cell phone number only).  Tonight I started to look through Thea's backpack and there was the key ring right on the steps where she drops her backpack every night.  Practically in plain sight.

Detective work or anything requiring close observation of their surroundings is not in any of their futures.  Some days it's like living with Helen Keller, Ray Charles and -(insert the name of a visually-impaired person of your choice because I can't think of anyone else)-, I swear.


Thankfully I can sleep better now that I don't have to imagine the nasty neighbor lady who felt I backed up into our driveway at a speed that was unsafe slitting my throat while I sleep. . . .

Drip-Drop. . .

Micah is free of his sponges/stents in his new ear canal as of about 5 pm today.  According to his ENT, the canal looks fine, but we still need to put the Tobradex drops in every day.  It is just about three months since the surgery.

And then after five minutes of 'face time' with the doctor, we went out to the desk to make our next appointment and then out into the evening rush hour and the Turnpike.  No more evening appointments, thank you very much. By the time we get done with all the visits for this ear, it will be time to start the appointments for the second ear.

With the late appointment, I used the day to stop at DnD for coffee,  get my glasses tuned up at the Optical Shop, check out the Geek Squad at Best Buy (near endless wait, only to be told that it would be $40 to install a memory card and it would take leaving my laptop for three days, pass - for now, the Squad needs more Geeks if it takes three days to unscrew the back of the computer and switch out a card), go grocery shopping and put the groceries away before hitting the road to pick up Micah from school.  It is so much nicer to go to the area shopping centers without the weekend crowds.

Ear Update

For all of those who read this because of the atresia/microtia updates, news of Micah's ear has somewhat been overtaken by my mother's recent surgery.  Sorry about that.  From our latest visit with Dr. Choe last Wednesday, the stenting with sponges and the Tobradex drops are doing well and the new canal is looking better, so the soft tissue stenosis is currently on the wane. This is good because Micah's starting to get tired of having the drops instilled.  Two more weeks until the current set of sponges are out and then we will get a three-week respite from driving up to Englewood.

Micah's hearing, though as yet untested by the audiologist, seems to be amazing.  I am having conversations with him in the car with the radio on, without raising my voice or turning my head, and we're even whispering 'secrets'.  His speech is also having a growth spurt as well.

He hears well, whether he chooses to listen is another issue entirely.

Home Again . . .

. . . .after hitting rush hours in several metropolitan areas due to my exquisite sense of timing.

Today we went with my mother to the oncologist, Dr. Mathur.  He cared for my father after Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer, and he also counts a few of my mother's friends among his patients and who give him good reviews.

First, the children behaved well during the appointment. Second, my mother behaved well, even though the full impact of what she's up against thwacked her over the head in a manner that was almost straight out of a Roadrunner/Wile E. Coyote cartoon.

Chemotherapy.  She anticipated that one.  Not a problem.  Looks like she'll be getting Cytoxan and Taxotere every three weeks for six cycles, and Dr. Mathur says she will not lose her hair.

Having a port implanted by which the chemotherapy would be administered.   Not so much.  Did not go over well at all, like a fart in church as my father would say. Her face showed everything from petulance to just being pissed.

Radiation after chemotherapy.  Didn't see that one coming at all.  This took us both by surprise, but it's also more than four months down the road and it is because of the size of her tumor, 4.3 centimeters, and anything above four size-wise should have it.

So after getting yet another folder of information for my mother to peruse, and with a tentative start date for chemotherapy of November 30th, we sent back to Wall's Bakery and bought more of the massive eclairs, and six chocolate-frosted donuts.  For the therapeutic power of chocolate, naturally.

Then we dropped my mother off for her manicure appointment.  Mom was in desperate need of some grown-up time, since Micah was back in Manic Chatter Monkey mode.  We headed for the little red caboose again (just across the tracks from the nail salon, but we drove anyway) and then to Oma's Special Park to kill 90 minutes before picking up my mother burning off some energy.

At the park, Thea and Micah entertained themselves for the most part, until they were joined by a little blond cherub.  LBC was about four, just in between my two age-wise. And he also combined the balls to the wall energy of Micah with the bossiness of Thea.  Just an ugly, ugly combination.  After listening to him for five minutes, I was ready to toss him down the near well or mine shaft.  Fortunately Thea snapped out of it, asked what grade he was in (Pre-K) and then asserted herself.  Micah was just the happy little synchophant, happy to be bossed around by any and all comers.

This gave me time to phone the surgeon's office and have a chat with the same nice lady I spoke with last week - just wanted to see if we needed to call about the port or would that be one of the topics that Dr. Personality would bring up at the two week follow up appointment.

After Micah and I fetched Oma from her manicure, with me finding that the O.P.I. nail polish color 'Suzi Skis the Pyrenees' was not the cool blue from whatever magazine at LabCorp, but a heinous, sooty grey, we made another trip to Hunan Star III.  Dumplings and egg drop soup for the kids, chow mein lunch specials for the grown-ups.  I know chow mein is about as un-Chinese as you can get as far as the cuisine goes, but the chow mein at this place totally evokes the memories of the chow mein at the Great Wall on Hamilton Street in Hyattsville which was my first memory of Chinese food. An authentic, edible childhood memory.

Then we went back to Oma's to pack up.  So far the only thing I left behind is a copy of the New Yorker magazine I was reading.  But we're going to be back again on Friday, so no big deal.

Micah slept from Waldorf to the Delaware toll, so he's wired for sound. Thea brushed her teeth, put her pajamas on and went to bed, and tonight she was so tired that the usual "I'm scared when I'm alone" didn't even come up.

And miracle of miracles, I am on call this weekend and there have been NO CALLS.  I've checked in with the answering service twice.  And I know I am cursing myself by putting this into words, but since I'm no longer in the car, and I have my computer at the ready, I don't care.

Tomorrow, the Penn Kresge Challenge walk in Philadelphia for T. and me, back in the car once again.

Back in Maryland

Thanks to the NJ State Teachers' Convention, Micah's school is closed today and tomorrow, Thea's is closed Friday.  So I paroled her from school today and we drove down to Maryland last night.  Micah was in Manic Chatter Monkey mode for a good way down I-295 (or so it felt).  His new schtick is "Count the birthdays, Mommy."  So the litany goes something like, "Aunt Shannon's birthday is in January, Micah's birthday is in March (And Bunny Bear? And Tom-Tom (the stuffed cat)?), Donna's and Christine's birthdays are also in March, so is Uncle Ricky, Oma's birthday is in April, Mommy's and Aunt Mary's are in June, Aunt Pam's and Uncle Karl's are in July, Daddy is in August, Uncle Larry's is in September, Elise's, Thea's and Grandma's are in October, Willi's is in December."

And then he asks to have me do it again.

And again.

Thank you to the two children in his class who had  birthdays recently who got him started on this.  I am hoping for an early end to this obsession.

Thea played her Nintendo DS until we were just over the Delaware Memorial Bridge, and then she too fell asleep, so I was left with NPR until just past the Delaware tolls, and then an oldies station from Baltimore (and someone please tell me how songs from 1977 constitute 'oldies' - 102.7 did a "9 at 9" and featured songs from 1977.  It was NOT THAT long ago, thank you.

Anyway, our purpose, other than shattering the peace and quiet of my mother's world for about 48 hours, is to take her to her doctors' appointments today and tomorrow.  This morning was the surgeon, who remains the same charming person he was on the 26th.  Mom went back to get her staples and drains out, and then when he was done, my mother said I would like to talk with him, which was met with "I spoke to the family on the day of the surgery."  Charming.  Fortunately his itty-bitty personality is overshadowed by his clinical competency and surgical skills.  That, plus I saw him sending his own fax - my mother told him that she was seeing the oncologist tomorrow, so he wanted to make sure the pathology reports were sent for him to review prior to the appointment.

Mom is a happy camper now that the drains have been removed; Dr. Personality had to go and tell her that one of them went up eight inches below her skin, which has an 'eeeeewww' factor of significance for even me.  And she did not whine about the staples, whose removal she was dreading.  I made an offer to bring a staple remover from work and give her a demo so she knew what to expect, but the big chicken declined.

After the appointment we hit Wall's Bakery for the GIGANTIC eclairs, buying eight, but they are not all for us and then had lunch at the Town Mouse before going across the railroad tracks to play on the red caboose at the Historical Society of Charles County.  It used to be used on a train that went to the USN station at Indian Head and was painted dingy battleship grey, and then a dried blood sort of red, but recently someone bought a few buckets of fire engine red glossy and went to town.

So now I'm at Borders, Thea is in the kids' section lusting after Bakugan and Pokemon stuff while I cop a free Wi-Fi hit before going home to see if Micah survived his nap with Oma.  He was not pleased at being left, but he was also pretty near fried.

More later.

Happy Halloween - Post-Mortem

Let the sugar rush begin.  We have a ton of leftover candy. Fortunately most of it is Three Musketeers, something Steve likes, but I can happily pass up. The 31st was drizzly and not that many trick-or-treaters came by.  Thea and I put up the rest of our decorations a couple hours before the doorbell rang, and now I have to find the energy to pack it all away until next year - which I hope will be sometime before Thanksgiving.

Micah wanted to be "just like Thea" so while we were at Oma's last week we went to one of those temporary Hallowe'en stores and found a replica of her costume in his size, so instead of the cute cowboy and a fireman, we had two Star Wars Clone Wars characters.  How original - and neither of them has seen the movie; Thea has the Star Wars Clone Wars game for her DS.   Photos to follow.

This week we're going back up the Turnpike to see the ENT to get the sponges changed, I've already gotten November 18th blocked out of my schedule at work.  Then we're heading to Maryland that evening.  The kids are off from school Thursday and Friday (NJ State Teachers' Convention), and my mother has a follow up with her surgeon on Thursday and her oncologist on Friday.

Saturday Thea and I are going to Penn for Homecoming - not for the football game (though it might be fun since it's against Princeton; here's hoping the corner of the Ivy League where I went to school whips the corner of the Ivy League where I live), but for the walk for the Penn/Kresge challenge.  The bummer is I'm call for the weekend, but the up side is that I worked last Saturday.

Out of Touch

Micah and I have been at my mother's in Maryland since Sunday.  My mother had surgery on Monday so we were on hand to be of whatever use, and Mom's home only has a dial-up modem since she is only about three notches above Amish, and I have little patience with dial-up at this point in my technology-spoiled little life.

Monday we had a early wake-up call so we could be on the road to Southern Maryland Hospital by 6:30 am.  Mom was supposed to be there by 7:30, three hours prior to her 10:30 surgery so that she could have some sort of tracer put in that would help the surgeon define if there was any lymph node involvement.

We showed up promptly, got her registered and sat down to wait.  Micah was along for the ride, so we were stuck in the solarium.  Times have changed, thanks to H1N1.  Three years ago Thea was with me for Mom's knee replacement and we were everywhere: the surgical holding area (because Mom's surgery was delayed for hours and hours), the recovery room, and her hospital room.  Now visiting hours are strict and no one under age 18 is allowed beyond the lobby and solarium.  People were wearing masks, but I couldn't tell if they were people who were fearing acquiring the virus or those who had some sort of symptoms.  Either way, the masks did not inspire much in the way of confidence.

We met Mom's surgeon when he came out to a) chastise yet another person (having already told Mom) that she was to have been at the hospital at 7:00 am, no 7:30 am, and to b) to let me know Mom would be sitting in a cubicle by herself because I could not go back there "because of the child" - which he said in a tone of voice one would use to say "blistering case of herpes."  He was not campaigning for the Miss Congeniality award, and I was left with the hope that he had phenomenal surgical skills to make up for his utterly lacking charm or people skills.

And in my mother's defense, NO WHERE on any of the the papers that she was given by either the surgeon's office or the hospital was the time written down.  So fault lies with the surgeon's office.  Period.

Meanwhile back in the solarium, after exhausting the markers and paper, the wooden trains and whatever else he could get into, Micah started working the crowd, making all sorts of new friends.  At one point he was on the loose, circulating throw the room giving everyone high-fives - which most people seemed to find amusing or at least a diversion while waiting to hear from their patients' surgeons.  A lady who sat at our table asked if Micah had microtia, and she had a niece who has unilateral microtia, so it was interesting to hear about her experience (the niece is now 19 years old or so, I think - my brain was only half-engaged in the conversation, the remaining bits were focused on keeping an eye on Micah and how long until we heard something on Mom), but she digressed into nursing, the National Archives, multicultural families and a myriad of other topics that my un-caffeinated brain failed to absorb.

On our way to Maryland we stopped at the AT&;T store because my wall-charger for my cell phone went missing - and my car charger ($4.99 on eBay) died months ago, and my cell phone's battery was near-depleted.  As we were leaving the store, the sales clerk offered Micah an old non-working cell phone, which for about the span of 72 hours was his prize possession.  We took a break from the solarium to go out to the car to find it and got to watch a LifeFlight helicopter take off from the landing pad near the ER entrance.  Micah was fascinated, and waved at the pilots until I thought his arm would fall off.  After it took off, we were back in the waiting area, ready again to torture the assembled masses.

After the surgeon came out around 1 p.m.  to say all had went well with my mother, Micah and I took off to get gasoline for the car and to head over to National Harbor.  We were going to hook up with my cousin who would take Micah for a few hours so I could go back to the hospital and see my mother.  He fell asleep in the car, but after he woke up we parked the car and went down to "The Awakening" sculpture and Micah occupied himself with that traditional little boy pastime of throwing pebbles into the Potomac.

Micah got handed off in the Fleet Garage at National Harbor, getting to ride in Thea's booster seat (exigent circumstances, I know how to get her seat in and out, his requires a degree in engineering which I do not possess) and I headed back to the hospital, arriving there with 40 minutes to kill. Visiting hours for the evening are 5:00 pm to 7:00 pm, and from the number of people hanging out in the lobby, exceptions to the rule were not being made.  So I twiddled my thumbs, figured out how to check my email via my cell phone (who knows what that will cost on next month's bill), changed my ring tone and cleaned out my purse.  And I still had 30 minutes to fritter away after all that.

When I finally got signed in and my visitor's badge clipped on, it was 5:05 pm.  I headed up to my mother's room, almost dreading what I would find - in 2006, after her knee replacement, she looked like death, was out of it from the medication/anesthesia, it was not pretty.

But when I got to her room, there she was sitting up, watching TV, looking pretty much how she did when I last had seen her that morning.  Minus the real estate removed by the surgeon, which wasn't really noticeable given the surgical drains in place.  It was a shock, a very pleasant shock.  So we hung out, she got to eat her technicolor liquid dinner (yellow chicken broth, green gelatin, red cranberry juice, brown tea) while we compared notes on the surgeon, etc.  Her nurse (Liz) was very nice, and while I was there the cardiologist came in to see her (when the surgeon mentioned that he would request that the hospitalist see her since Mom's physician doesn't come to SMH, I said to him I hoped it was someone with better people skills than the last hospitalist from her knee replacement, so the surgeon opted for cardiology to round on her instead.   Cardiology dude was very nice, was thorough and had some humor and personality under his white coated exterior.

I reclaimed Micah from my cousin's, he'd gotten a chance to play with Elise and Henry, and all the bopping around had taken its toll because he was asleep before I was over the Wilson Bridge.

Both the cardiologist and the surgeon said Mom could go home Tuesday or Wednesday, the surgeon thought she'd want to stay until Wednesday, but Mom got discharged on Tuesday, walked off the floor and down to the lobby to wait for me to pull the car up, and then when she saw the car, she came strolling out on her own, just about 24 hours after getting out of surgery.  Mom's neighbor was recruited to stay with Micah in the car, so we all had lunch together at Mom's.

She took it easy for the rest of the day, but the only pain medication she took was for her knee.

The next day, 48 hours after surgery, Mom wanted to go to the bank and check out the farmers' market at the St. Mary's County Library.  She was on the hunt for green beans.  Then we went down to another farm where we'd been a few months earlier to let Micah play on the wooden train.

While Mom was checking out the apples and pumpkins, we checked out the train and the goat pen and goat barn (or Goatel, as the farm calls it.)  Micah was trying to bond with the baby goats, but the baby goats were more focused on their meal plan, the udder.  And Micah sees a large pink, finger-like protuberance near the hindquarters and declares "IT'S A PE-E-E-NIS."  Which, of course, in his mind, it is.  Any dangling, wobbly bits between the rear legs MUST be one. 

So after trying to explain my mother's surgery to Micah - a necessity since he was right there while I emptied the drains and changed the dressings - and failing miserably to distill cancer and mastectomy into something manageable for the three-year old brain, I was now having to figure out how to explain that teats and udders are not penises and testicles.  Again, without benefit of caffeine for my aching synapses.

Anyway, I think he got the message because after the farm, we went to Applebee's for dinner and we were talking about what we saw on the farm and Micah looks at my mother quite earnestly and says in his loudest Micah voice, "And that NOT a PENIS, that where the MILK comes from."  Nice.

Meanwhile and far away, I spent the first three days off the electronic map before getting a little bit of time at Borders.  Free Wi-Fi, a beautiful thing,  free Wi-Fi and access to an electrical outlet, even more beautiful thing.

The New Ear, Chapter 4 and 5

Up the Turnpike for a 9:10 am with Dr. Choe.  Brutal timing, and we were behind schedule and the route taken to the Turnpike did not have a single drive-thru Dunkin' Donuts.

Short and sweet version:  One sponge out, canal cleaned out with a little bit of suction, two sponges in, minimal snivveling, antibiotic drops with dexamethasone added, appointment in two weeks, declined lollipop(s) (total shocker), dropped off at school at 10:25 am.

The doctor is guessing that it may take a total of three cycles of this (four more weeks, two more appointments) to make sure it is really working and the canal is staying open without narrowing.

And to add a rant, I tried putting the Tobradex drops in for a refill and (bleep)-ing CVS's recorded voice on the automated refill line had the nerve to tell me that it was too soon.  Fortunately I have the means of getting around this, but it's just annoying.  And this medicine is the difference between an incredibly delicate and costly surgery going to down the tubes or not.

Just got an email from Micah's surgeon - we've got a tentative date for his next surgery, March 23, 2010.  Our eighth wedding anniversary.  Instead of  gifts of bronze or pottery, or the modern suggestion of linen or lace, we'll be getting dressing changes and ear drops.  And a child with two auditory canals, and neither of us has to go shopping for it.

Photos from Micah's Teacher

I don't know why I can't get this one to enlarge.

It's almost as if he knows I detest printed scrubs.

Does she know that the stethoscope is not in her ears?  Even I know where the earpieces go.

Monday, October 19, 2009
Summit Speech School

Meanwhile the little doctor is off to see the big doctor on Wednesday to see what's up with his ear canal.  Will the sponge get removed, and if removed, replaced?  Or will he be free of it, for now?

Requiescat in pace

He gave the eulogy at my father's funeral in 1998, and whatever he said on that day, while not memorable in a word-for-word sense, eased the transition into a world without my Dad.  He went to high school with my mother.  He and his wife have been there for many of the major events in my family's life, from my wedding, to flying to Chicago numerous times while we were living there in the 1970s, to coming to visit us while we were in Germany in 1971, to my mother's 75th surprise birthday party, taking me at age 14 to National Airport to join my parents and brother in Chicago and that's just the short list.

I have saved for Thea the email I got from him after we sent out her adoption referral photo because it gave me a connection to memories of my father, "Wouldn't Willi love to pinch those chubby cheeks?"  In one sentence it was the perfect laugh/cry moment, especially since most of his children endured many cheek-pinchings from my father.

And on Friday, he lost his own battle with cancer, after a long and courageous fight.  The world of those faces from my childhood grows smaller yet again. I can only imagine what his wife and family must be feeling.  I hope they are finding peace, I hope in whatever my naive imaginings of the afterlife, Ray has tracked down my father and they're catching up and enjoying each others' company again, that's what I'm holding onto for now.

Rest in peace, Ray Rooney, you will be missed by all who were fortunate to have known you.

Weekend at Oma's

Weekend at Oma's - late departure from Princeton, so after the first 30 minutes of 'how much longer until we get to Oma's", exhaustion kicked in and both kids fell asleep, and were so asleep that I could get them from the car into my mother's house, and they were still sleeping.  Thea was plopped on the sofa, covered with her 'soft-soft' blanket and surrounded by her tigers, and there she stayed.  Micah managed to sleep for 90 minutes in the bedroom, giving my mother and I time to talk without someone interrupting us - until he came wandering out, and since my mother and I were still chatting and snacking, he hung out with us, playing with a box and tissue paper, jumping off the beds in the guestroom and having way too much energy for 2 am.  Fortunately, he zonked out fairly quickly (after the drink of water, I want my puppy, I don't want socks, my nose is running schtick).

And I crawled into the bed that Thea usually uses, pulled her 100 good wishes quilt over me and went to sleep.  Until 7:30 am when Thea came in to use the bathroom attached to the bedroom, stopping by to whip her quilt off of me, leaving me cold and awake.  Luckily the blankets I usually use were on the floor next to the bed, so it was just a matter of covering up and going back to sleep, for another 30 minutes until Micah woke up.

After Oma's special breakfast (and I still can't figure out what she does to her scrambled eggs that makes my children gobble them up), we started to get ready for the day - the one big agenda item being Elise's 3rd birthday party at 3:30 pm.  Then I remembered that we wanted to go to the German Deli in Falls Church before going to the party, fast forward two children into clothes, fast forward getting organized and out the door.

Quick stop at the Hallmark store to pick up ornaments that my mother had ordered and buy a birthday card (having forgotten the Backyardigans card at home).

Then we put the German Deli's address in the GPS and took off.  And the GPS bombed miserably, probably due to all the new construction around the Telegraph Road exit.  In its second attempt, the GPS sent us back on the Beltway and around to the Route 50 exit. The GPS has a little bit of vindictiveness programmed into its soul.

Somehow we managed to buy one bag of stuff (one pound hard salami, chocolate, a box of Bavarian dumpling mix, etc.)  What I wish I could buy or package is just the smell of the place.  It smells like my grandparents' store.  I manged to gross Thea out by showing her a toothpaste-like tube of a striped  mayonnaise and ketchup combo - I always thought that mustard and ketchup in tubes were neat, but the striped condiment in a toothpase tube was a little nasty even in my mind.

Meanwhile in the middle of shopping, Micah threw out the "I have to go pee-pee" alarm.  We already imposed on the German Deli in July, so it was time for creativity, which turned out to be opening both car doors and letting him aim for under the car.

He topped this by announcing at Panera's, after overhearing my mother and I talking about his graft site, "You want to see my owwie, Oma?" while dropping his trou, and his underwear.  For Micah, Panera = opportunity to be naked or partially naked.  Fortunately we were in a booth, walled in on two sides, so the only one that Micah flashed was the guy working on his Mac opposite us.

After lunch we went to Christine's for the birthday party.  Both kids were acting shy, Thea feeling that she was too old for a party with a bunch of three-year olds, and Micah because he was in one of those moods where he was mimicking whatever she was doing.  Then he ran his hand along the deck's rail and got a splinter, a big one.  And after I remember I clued in that I had a needle in my bag out in the car, we got it out and got him banadaged up with only a few tears.

Thea slept for a second night on Oma's couch, so I got another reprieve from the floor.  Sunday Fred was coming to detail my car and Lorrie was coming out to see us.  This gave me about an hour to go to Target and Safeway.  The LaPlata Target's photo department's computer totally managed to screw up the order, making the CD in record time, but losing the 74 prints I had picked out.

The car is clean and shiny, thanks to Fred.  We managed to eat out, after my mother threatened to stay home because she was ready to brain Thea for having a mini-meltdown.  Mom and Lorrie went off to Mimi's Cafe to have a glass of wine, we stuck around to get all the stuff I removed from my car loaded back in.

And so ends a good weekend, filled with lots of boring details.

Photo Catch-Up

 Autumn Moon / Lantern Festival

At the Firehouse in Chinatown in Philadelphia

September 26, 2009

Photo Credit:  The nice firefighter who sold us a t-shirt for Thea must not know how to frame a photo to take full advantage of the mural on the wall.

Thea's School, getting ready to march.  Where's Thea?

There she is!

Even a pigeon stopped to check out the parade. . . .

Going down Race Street.

Welcome October!

It's creeping up on two weeks since I've written anything - and with that comes the feeling that I MUST write something, but to me blogging should be for enjoyment, not out of any sense of obligation.

We're now about nine days away from Thea's birthday, and still no solid plans about what to do for it.  The obligatory cupcakes and stuff for school, once I find out about any food allergies in her class.  Last year since school was so small, I made goody bags for everyone, but now the pre-K and K is as big as 1st grade.  Making almost two dozen party bags just is not on my agenda.

Thursday and Friday the other NP in the office and I got to attend the Pri-Med CME conference in Philadelphia.  First day we drove, which was fine until we got over the Betsy Ross bridge and hit traffic.  Friday we drove to Haddonfield and took the PATCO high speed line to 8th and Market and walked to the Convention Center.  It was nice have that feeling of being a commuter again, not that I would want to do it on a regular basis.

The conference was good, just long sessions.  But Karen's friend Judy got us seats in the back (easy exit) right near an electric outlet - and I dragged my laptop along both days so when both my mind and my butt started going numb, I could get some work done, check email and otherwise entertain myself.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, we had the first parent-teacher conference at Thea's school.  Not terribly exciting: she's reading at an early 2nd grade level, her Chinese is impressive given that she gets utterly no reinforcement at home (unless you count playing her favorite CD of Chinese songs at bedtime) and she's otherwise a good kid.

Thea and I seem to be getting over our upper respiratory infections just as Steve and Micah are starting out with the same.  Micah's nose has been running like a faucet and he has a total aversion to wiping his own nose due to not wanting to get his hands messy.  He's not allowed to blow his now per his ENT's orders - not that Micah even knows how.  He does the sound effects of nose blowing, without the actual blowing out of the gunk.  Next appointment is Wednesday, and we have an IEP meeting at school that day as well.  This time the school district's case manager is actually venturing out to Summit School for the meeting.  Earlier this year when we were in the thick of the IEP she said that she 'always got lost going up to Summit.'  Now she's either got her bearings or has a GPS because the meeting is there so she can observe Micah.

Last weekend we went to the Autumn Moon/Lantern Festival in Philadelphia's Chinatown.  Thea's school was carrying a banner in the parade, and a group of parents and children had dinner at Rangoon, a wonderful Burmese restaurant.  Both Thea's and Micah's lanterns did not survive - Micah was running, tripped and fell, ripping his lantern; Thea's Pokemon lantern's wire broke.  But minus those two little glitches, the kids had a great time.  Thea watched a martial arts demonstration that just fascinated her, Micah got to go in a bounce house - despite our fears that children twice his size would bounce him into a pulp.  I'll be able to upload photos later today.

Out of the Ears of Babes. . . . .

. . . come amazing things.  Today, unlike previous appointments when Micah's ear was just examined, Dr. Choe removed all the debris from Micah's new ear.  Dried blood/scab material, wisps of cotton, whatever else. Micah actually sat still, without me sitting on him or holding him still in any way - he climbed up into the chair and didn't blink as the back of the chair reclined.  We had a brief interruption while the exam light's bulb was changed - which did interest Micah, then Dr. Choe began his fishing expedition.  Piece after piece of dried, scabby material came out, filling the top of the gauze pad.  I wish I'd taken a photograph, it was just too cool.

Back in two weeks for the Silastic disk that is at the end of the canal to be removed, and then it's all Micah.  I already think there is a change in what he can hear, but I'm probably reading too much into it.  Dr. Choe took Micah's BAHA off and tried to see if he would respond to the tuning fork, but Micah was more interested in trying to bang the tuning fork than listening for the sound.

And double bonus, we only need to put drops in once a day, so no more drops in the morning when we're already playing beat the clock to get Micah out to the van and the skin graft site only needs cortisone cream.

A good day all around, other than Micah trashing the foyer with his wooden trains and the usual house in chaos stuff.

Books, Books, Books and Aggravation

I'm completely into Stieg Larsson's The Girl Who Played with Fire.  I want to go back to Stockholm.  In the summer, not into those long, dark days.

Waiting in the wings is Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn's Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide - one of their previous books, China Wakes: The Struggle for the Soul of a Rising Power, was one of the best books I've read in the past few years.

Meanwhile I am off tomorrow, and so ready for it, even if it means another trip to Englewood for Micah to see Dr. Choe.  No charts, no notes, no one coughing in my face.

To add to the aggravations of the past couple of weeks, getting into our school routines and whatnot, the van service that drives Micah to school appears to have lost his nap blanket.  That his Oma bought for him, with the trains on it, and that conveniently has a pillow attached and a nice Velcro strap to roll it all up and hold it.  I am NOT amused.

The chain of custody, on Friday, has the school saying that it gave the nap blanket to the van aide, the van driver and aide saying that they gave it to Tesh, and Tesh and Micah arriving with Micah's clothes changed due to an accident (usually due to not putting a pull-up on for nap time) but no blanket.  It's not in Tesh's car, it's not in my car or in the office (being sort of hard to miss due to size and colorful fabric). So my finger points to the driver.  Especially when she responded to Tesh asking about it today by, pointing to the house and saying, "...it's probably in there somewhere."  Not bleeping likely since Micah does not go into the house, he and his belongings go straight into Tesh's car for the ride to the office.

And being furious doesn't solve the problem.  I need to find a blanket to send - not one of his good nap quilts from Eleanor, because obviously someone between school and the van cannot be entrusted with something that I don't want to see lost.

Yeah!

Micah's BAHA came back from its spa trip to Cochlear American in Colorado via FedEx today, and the company actually sent home instead of to school, where it would sit for the weekend waiting for Micah to return on Monday.  Got to find the disc to remount it in the band, and then we'll see if the feedback issue has been fixed.  (The pediatric audiologist said that she took Micah's BAHAs apart and they were pristine; it gives one pause to contemplate what an un-pristine BAHA could be like.  Ick.)

Thea's Mewtwo Pokemon card came in the mail today, so for three seconds, until her brother starts to try to aggravate her and her father reminded her to hand up her jacket, she is/was happy

Now Micah is decorating me with Mardi Gras beads and I am waiting to get dinner on the table now that everyone is back from the park in Plainsboro.  Now if my charts would just write themselves. . . . it could be a truly great start to the weekend.

Addendum:  Cochlear sent the BAHA back, but not the battery or safety line.  Considering the number of trips I've made to JFK's Audiology Department to pick up these little lanyards, it's a bite in the shorts that I'd be missing through no fault of our own.  (I have clear elastic beading cord and crimps to repair them myself; that light bulb went off after the third trip to Edison.)   So one point to Cochlear for getting it back, and one for fixing whatever the problem was, and minus one point for not giving us back the battery and safety cord.

Free WiFi

. . . .is a beautiful thing.

The shopping center where I get my hair cut/colored has free wireless internet, and it is a sad testimony to the  state of my world when I spend time sitting with my laptop working on charts while my grey roots were marinating instead of reading People magazine and catching up on the foibles of the rich and feckless.

But I did get five or six notes completed, which may make for an earlier bedtime.

Today is one week since Micah's surgery.  He's doing great.  As the surgeon predicted, it is harder to try and keep him from being his usual Tasmanian devil self.

Thursday we drove down to Maryland to see Oma, arriving at dinner time.  After dinner the kids started playing a game with my mother, trying to see if they could get past her without being tagged.  It was more Thea's game, but once Thea starts, Micah is soon to follow.  As he was flying past Oma, she took a swat at him and cuffed him on his right BAHA, on the side where he had surgery two days prior.  Her fingertips just grazed the BAHA, but once she realized what she happened, my poor mother just about had a heart attack.

Then Micah decided to climb on the wooden chair at Oma's desk, and managed to slide down, bopping the back of his head.  Again, more of a shock to those watching - Micah recovered in about five seconds.  The weekend was off to a great start.

But with Micah's running at full tilt, Oma commented that everyone should have ear surgery if they come out feeling as energetic as he does.

Friday Micah and I went over to my brother and sister-in-law's house to meet the furniture delivery.  Micah and his cousin Willi are three months apart, so Willi's Thomas the Tank Engine collection is like catnip for Micah - especially since Willi has the battery-powered Thomas trains.  Then we dropped Oma off to have her nails done and went to Oma's Special Park, followed by a trip to Target.  (Oma wanted a baby doll to wrap in the doll quilt that she had gotten for Elise.)

Then my sainted mother took care of my children (who were also adequately bribed into good behavior thanks to the Target trip) for 90 minutes while I got to go to see my mother's massage therapist.   Which was beyond awesome.

And meanwhile back at Oma's house, everyone survived.  Oma wasn't ready to murder either child.  The children weren't at each other's throats or up each other's backsides.  Miracle upon miracle.

We went to see my cousin's new home and to have dinner with Christine and Elise (who is seven months younger than Micah).  The kids got to run around, play with a suntain-oil scented Play-Doh and check out the new house.  (Love the blue stars stencil in Elise's room!)  Another successful road trip made possible by GPS.

Since Micah suffered no ill effects from Oma cuffing him and bopping himself over the head, Saturday was my turn to see if I could mess with the baby's head.  We went to the Farmers' Market in Upper Marlboro to shop and have lunch, and then to Watkins Park for the train (for Micah) and the miniature golf (for Thea).

Except the train was in the shop and not running until after September 1.  Damn, damn and double damn.  Micah had to content himself with the carousel.  And so four days after ear surgery, there he is, riding a jaguar, going around and around and up and down.  Which I realized about half-way through the second ride, and then I looked over and saw Micah.  Sitting with his hands on his thighs, not even holding on to the brass pole, just taking in the sights.

Since we had no train at Watkins, Oma suggested a road trip to St. Mary's County to go to a farm with a wooden playground train, bunnies hopping around and goats.  Got to love goats. So more running around, climbing, jumping.  Five days out from surgery. (Written on September 1 and forgotten about until today.)

Photos

Captions: Pictures of the crib before it came down, with all of Micah's stuffed animals in it; Micah with his repaired bandage the day of his surgery; the sponges in his new ear canal and the steri-strips (must've been taken before the first follow-up appointment as the steri-strips were off as of September 2); the kids with cousin Elise; the Maryland Renaissance Festival; with Oma in St. Mary's County (photo by Thea Albin); more of the Renaissance Festival, and on the swing at Oma's Special Park (also known to the general public as Laurel Springs Park in LaPlata.)

It's Official . . . .

. . . .both kids are in the custody of their respective schools.  The house is empty, quiet except for me clicking on the keyboard and the tumbling of clothes in the dryer.  Today was a better start to the day, despite having two lunches to pack, two breakfasts to make, two squirmy kids to dress.

Yesterday the morning came undone over the search for Micah's shoes and certain parties in the house being unable to remember what he did with them.  The 'he' being referred to being one of the male residents of the house who is greater than three feet tall.  It was just ugly.  How hard is it to remember where the shoes were taken off?   That question can remain unanswered because I bought a second pair of shoes (he has a second pair, but they're sandals and Micah's school has a no-sandals or Crocs policy.)

This morning we had eggs and sausages, clothes were laid out last night, lunches were partially pre-assembled, Thea got to select her lunch rather than take luck of the draw.  Tomorrow will be more of a test, because I have got to get ready for work.

Micah gets an early pick up so we can go up to Englewood so Dr. Choe can remove the sponges from Micah's new ear canal.

Labor Day Weekend

Work yesterday, not a hellacious Saturday but not as easy as the nice weather should have made it. Lots of "I want to nip this in the bud," which is frustrating because most of the 'buds' are viral and will take care of themselves.  Thea and Steve went to the pool, last good day for the Princeton Community Pool, weather-wise.  Micah and I went to Target, more large Bandaids for his ear, medium blue polo shirts for Thea for school, picking up a CD of pictures.  Charting waited until after the kids' bedtime. . . . .the perfect sedative, non-pharmacological, free.

Today the answering service didn't call until after 11 am, miracle of miracles.  Usually it's around 9 am on Sunday that someone finally thinks that it's a decent enough hour and whoever is on call must be awake.

This afternoon, it was sunny in Princeton, Steve's sister was at her beach house, so we went for a drive .  And the closer we got to the Shore, the more clouds, the more wind.  Not a great beach day.

The boys went to the beach, nothing will deter Micah from playing in the sand.   Thea stayed with me, and is going through the basket of games and picking things like Jenga and Tri-Ominos to torture her aunt with.

No matter the weather, the beach is still wonderful - and it's my first glimpse of the ocean all summer.

Micah just got back - he's a popsicle.  That child doesn't have enough body fat on him to maintain 98.6 in the face of no sun and a brisk breeze.  More later. . . .

Sponge-worthy. . . .

. . . though not in the Seinfeld's Elaine sense of the word.  We took Micah to his one week follow up and he's doing well, I got to remove the steri-strips (do we get a discount for that?) and Dr. Choe said that Micah was one of few children who have all three merocel sponges in place in the ear canal eight days after surgery.  So we did good!

We can also take off the Tegederm film from the skin graft donor site tonight.  (Good thing, it's usually only used for one week and four 4"x4" pieces of Tegederm are $14.99 at CVS.)  It will be dressed with Bacitracin and a little hydrocortisone if it is itchy or it seems like a keloid scar is developing.

The merocel sponges stay in for another week and now we have to put Ofloxacin otic drops in the new ear canal morning and evening.  I took a picture of Micah's new canal today while we were waiting at the ENT's office.  And we make the drive up the NJ Turnpike one more time next Wednesday.


So all is well in the world of the after-market ear canal.  Six more days until Micah's school starts, one more week until Thea starts first grade.

Post-Op Photos from August 25

Today is not going quite how I imagined.

Get this thing off of my head, it's annoying.

These were taken about an hour or so after Micah was out of surgery, when he was still out of sorts from the anesthesia, hating the gauze wrap, and just not himself. His face looks puffy, but it's more from the reverse-facelift of the wrap and not swelling.

Feels Like Thursday

Somehow with everything that's happened today, it feels like it should be Thursday or later in the week.

I got back to see Micah in the recovery area just after noon. He was cranky and combative coming out of the anesthesia, was hating the giant gauze head wrap dressing, and just out of sorts. Fortunately he settled down a little bit with being held, and a small hit of morphine eventually got him to really settle down and fall asleep on my lap. Once he awoke he was ready to tank up on some apple juice, eat a few animal crackers and a jar of baby apple sauce. Then the nurse could take out his IV and we could get ready to go home.

We had a stroller along with us, so we didn't need a wheelchair to take us out, I just signed on the bottom line, picked up a token for parking garage, and hit the "Home" button on the GPS. Micah slept most of the way, except for a brief period when he woke up and whined about his dressing being too tight and then fell right back to sleep again.

After I unloaded the car, I unloaded Micah onto the sofa, and he went back to sleep until dinner time.

He awoke to eat steamed dumplings and drink apple juice. And just when we were getting complacent, thinking that all was well, Micah yanked he dressing down around his neck, giving us a peak at the new ear canal.

And me without a roll of gauze in the house or even in my bag out in the car. I'd used up the last of what I had on a house call a few weeks ago. So Thea and I made a quick run to CVS, and once we were back home, Steve held Micah, Thea fed him M&Ms and I re-wrapped his head using both the old and the new dressing.

Tick-Tock, Bring My Baby Back

One of the nurse called to the OR, and the estimate is that Micah will come out of surgery at 11:45 or so, right according to schedule. The time has flown by, mostly because I don't have the ability to concentrate on one thing for too long, so I've been bopping around on the computer, reading Pat Conroy's "South of Broad", drinking the unrefrigerated Coke I had in my purse, eating a banana-nut muffin the nurse offered (what do hospital's do about people with nut allergies? I was sort of shocked that there would be an Otis Spunkmyer banana nut muffin anywhere in a place like this.)

It's a quiet day around here, I asked the nurse and she said they usually have 30+ patients scheduled per day, but today there are only 16.

I'm glad I didn't save the NY Times crossword as I had originally wanted to do, I would have failed miserably at getting it done. The homefront had better plan on getting take-out for dinner tonight, I'm not going to be in any mood or any energy level to make dinner.

Update from the OR. . . .

The OR called with an update, all is going well and just as expected. Above is a video taken this morning while we were waiting, I had a couple of others, but I let Micah play with the Flip and he managed to delete them.

Underway. . .

What does a parent whose child is in the OR do with three hours or more of free time and a laptop? What else, update the blog.

Micah woke up at 3:00 am to tell me that he wanted to go home, and then promptly went right back to sleep. I, on the other hand, was awake for the right of the night. The 5:00 am wake up call was totally unnecessary, I was up, showered, packed up all of our stuff and woke up Micah. We were on our way to the Englewood Hospital by a few minutes before 6 :00 am and checked in at the Ambulatory Surgical Center early.

The nurse in the pediatric section called us back at 7:30 or so, paperwork for her, paperwork for the anesthesiologists, a quick chat with the surgeon. There was a nice playroom in this area so Micah got to empty shelves of just about every toy he could reach.

And then it was time for the show to get on the road. He didn't want to change into a gown, so Bunny Bear got to do it for him. I got a pair of scrubs to throw over my clothes (I'm flattered that they chose the size they did, but I looked like a green sausage), and Micah got to drive the car back to the OR.

This is when he really started to realize that things were happening that he wasn't all too keen about. Bunny Bear got an anesthesia mask, we tried to pass it off as "just like Daddy's mask (CPAP)", but he was starting to get cringy. Didn't like the EKG leads stuck onto his chest, wasn't thrilled about the pulse oximetry stuck on his thumb.

Since he was on the verge of crying (and inhaling more rapidly than his normal breathing), he dropped like stone after the first few breaths of the anesthesia gas. I got shuttled out back to the room where he'll be after surgery, and then it really smacked me over the head. I had just left my baby in a room where someone was going to be putting a hole in his head.

They have my cell phone and said that I could go out to the cafeteria, but I'm staying put for now.

NPO

Nothing by mouth. Midnight has come and gone, so we're into the final hours before surgery. Micah chattered all the way to Newark Airport, and then slept for the last part of the trip to the Marriott. Of all the stuff I've told him about tomorrow, seeing Dr. Choe again, going to the hospital, big bandage on the head, I sort of neglected to mention that breakfast was not part of the game plan, and this is a kid who eats within 15 to 20 minutes of getting up on weekdays. I've already emptied the milk that he had for the car so I don't take my eyes off of him and he downs it. I am going NPO as a show of solidarity, but I still feel bad for not prepping him.

The hotel had PPV PBS (pay-per-view PBS), so I plunked Micah on the bed and put on Curious George so I could organize a bit. We read both our Llama, llama books and I sung just about everyone Micah knows to sleep before he finally fell asleep. It took a bit of doing to get the computer to cooperate, but eventually I got my charts done and most of the mail read.

So I am officially calling it a night and packing up the laptop. Atresia repair #1, here we come.

UPS: What Can Brown Do for Me?

Precious little, as it were. Monday I got a signature-required package notice. Tuesday at around dinnertime, I got on the computer, sent a message to UPS, paid a $4 and request the package be redirected the package to my work address. The computer said it would be delivered Wednesday. No package on Wednesday, so I called the toll-free number, spoke with a customer service person and was told that the re-direct information came in too, late so it would be delivered the following day.

Nothing on Thursday at the office, and a FINAL ATTEMPT NOTICE on the door at home. And when I called I was told that they had tried home, and at my office. 5:01 pm at the office. So now I have until the 27th to pick the package up at the UPS facility in Hamilton, as if the next few days have abundant spare time to be picking up a package that should have rightly been delivered during working hours.

I am going to call those losers at UPS and get that $4. It's the principle.

Brown can do NOTHING for me. That is why I use the US Postal Service, thank you very much.

72 Hour Countdown

Today it was just me and the kids. . .it's the last few days before Micah's first atresia repair. I would have liked to have given him a weekend in the pool since he'll be drydocked for several months after the surgery. Originally his surgeon wanted to schedule him for June 23rd, but the thought of having to deny him the backyard pool for the entire summer seemed pointless, so we got a surgery date in August.

And now that date is almost upon us.

Last night I was up until almost 3 am charting and taking care of electronic paperwork, so it was nice that the morning was overcast and the kids slept in. We got off to a slow start and then got organized to go out. We had lunch at Tiger Noodles, which was blissfully empty given that Micah cannot keep his rump in any chair for more than several minutes.

Then we cruised down Route 1 to Snip-Its to get Micah a haircut. Rather than letting whoever preps him for surgery have the first whack at shaving his head, I wanted Flo to do the honors. So now instead of the spiky anemone look, he's a cueball, shaved down to the nubs. He looks almost like his referral photo, though he doesn't have the pudgy cheeks any more.

Thea's graduated from her Leapster and now is figuring out how to operate a Nintendo DS Lite. It has Pokemon games, and she seems to love Pokemons. The amazing thing is that almost without a single shred of guidance from the instructions, she's knee-deep in whatever the Pokemon game does. "Don't bother me, please, Mommy, I'm battling. . . ."

Now we just have to get Micah hearing well enough so that he can start playing some of the Leapster games.

While we were at Target the skies opened up. Downpour, but not the kind that is over and done with in a few minutes, it just kept going and going. People and carts were bottlenecked at the exit, but when a small path opened up, we had all of our bags tied shut, Micah's BAHA in a plastic bag and we made a run for it. The kidswere in/on the cart so I just had to push and run, with the kids shrieking and laughing all the way. They thought it was a hoot.

The ride home was a wild one. The amount of rain falling was so much that the roads were near flooded. Quaker Road was closed, but that's almost a non-event, it closes after a generic heavy rain. It was when we were turning from Lover's Lane onto Route 206 and into a fast-flowing stream of brown water that it started to get a little freaky. And that's when I started to wonder if River Road would be open. . . . .

And it was, even past Herrontown Road past which the river gets closer to the road. We were following a motorcycle, which was a little scary since the water was pouring across the road. I've driven River Road once in a heavy rain, and was very glad for the CRV. This was about twice as heavy and three times as scary. Micah fell asleep as we drove through downtown Princeton. Thea was thrilled by the adventure of it all. I was just happy to pull into the driveway, unload the car and get everyone in and into dry clothes. Me included.

The kids went to sleep without complaint tonight, so I've been free to sit on the new sofa

Whaddaday

Today we were on the move most of the day. Micah had an 11:00 am appointment with his ENT surgeon, and the office is up near Fort Lee (which somehow rings a bell from the movie "Desperately Seeking Susan"). Minimum drive time, barring traffic issues, is an hour.

Micah had a good time in the waiting room, and he was the only child there for most of the wait. It's less than a week before the surgery, so I'm not feeling like Ambassador for BAHAs and Atresia/Microtia, and it's exactly those days when people seem to want to get chatty. One lady who said she had a special education background wanted to know when we knew Micah had atresia, and I was tempted to say when we read the diagnosis on our adoption agency's web site, but she barely gave me time to answer before she was grilling me on who referred us to Early Intervention (um, no one, we knew about it and we contact them before Micah even came home) and then jumped right into what his hearing aids do and what can be done to 'fix' him. (Um, it's not a 'fix', he's not broken, dork, I had wonderful interior monologues while talking with her.)

Meanwhile Steve was getting questioned by a man with hearing aids who came in with his daughter; I tuned him out when I heard the "does he know sign language?" Aggggghhhhh. No, he SPEAKS FOR HIMSELF. It was a mercy when the medical assistant called Micah's name and we got to escape from the curious.

First we had to see the audiologist for a hearing test, then we got to meet with Dr. Choe - he's not seen Micah since May 2008, other than Micah's April CT scan. We were done with the appointments, paperwork and whatnot by noon. The interesting thing is that Micah's new auditory canal is going to be BEHIND the vestigal piece of ear cartilage that he has, and that's the norm.

Micah's scheduled to be first case on the 26th, so he and I will go up the night before and stay at a hotel near the hospital.

So now his surgeon goes on vacation, to Cape Cod, so cross fingers that Hurricane Bill leaves New England alone and he comes back relaxed and ready to make a gorgeous auditory canal.

So we came back down the NJ Turnpike to figure out what to do about the offer of a sectional couch from Thea's friend Lucas's mother. I have hated the coach in our living room since I first saw it in 1998, and once the ink was dry on the marriage license I have been plotting its demise. It has taken me more than ten years to achieve victory over ugliness. First went the ghastly pink recliner. Just an eyesore, and it cluttered up our already crowded living room. I don't even remember what happened to it, the memory has just evaporated.

Next went the unloveable loveseat. Another fuzzy memory. Gone, gone, gone. Another one bites the dust.

Then the matching chair went out to the garage.

Leaving the couch, which was probably made/sold in the era before disco died. Sitting in the living room like a big, ugly tumor waiting to be excised.

Until today.

With the help of a Home Depot flatbed truck and more sweat than I want to think about, we brought home two of the three sections and the ottoman.

And we managed it all (getting the old sofa out, renting a truck, picking up the sofas and getting them home), and got Thea picked up before daycare closed at 6 pm. And I got to go out to dinner tonight, at Santino's Bar One, leaving Steve to deal with Thea who had cried over the theoretical loss of the sofa on Sunday, and who utterly decompensated when she saw the only sofa she's ever known sitting at the curb. She managed to howl for thirty minutes, and only quieted down when she could rescue one of the throw pillows.

I came home from dinner at 9 pm and went upstairs, stopping in Thea's room to give her a good night kiss. I just about choked when she showed me the pillow on her bed.

So there is still a trace of ugliness to be erradicated. I am plotting how to get that pillow into the trash, and when it goes, victory will be mine.