I'm not depressed!

I took a trip to see my family doctor. She's still new to me but so far I like her. She gets the "girl" thing better than my male physician did previously. I was certain she would understand my need for a medication to get me through this short period of stress in my life. Considering everything that has transpired.

I told her everything - minus my nice imparting words to my sister - and she listened thoughtfully. I explained I didn't want a long term medication, just something to ease the way for the next few weeks. I've been unable to sleep, I'm edgy and nervous, and it's slowly taking a toll.

She tells me she'll, "put something together that will work for me", and then leaves the room. When she returns she hands me a sample of Lexapro and a prescription for it as well.

Let me just say I think Lexapro is an awesome antidepressant. I used it for several months after Annabel's birth. It got me through a really difficult time and I praise it's gloom eclipsing glory.

BUT.

I am not depressed.

And this isn't the first time I've had someone try to pawn off a medication like this for anxiety. (When I was busting my balls, working a two jobs and attending college full-time, my 'then' doctor tried to do the exact same thing.)

I suppose she worries depression might follow and it's simply smart thinking on her behalf. But what in the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime while I'm still losing sleep and I have an occasional but debilitating panic attack?

For the first time in my life, I demanded something for my nerves. I've never, EVER, told a Doctor to prescribe me something before. But I knew that if my family contacted me, I would need something more than Lexapro to smooth the way. She didn't like it but complied with my request and gave a prescription for Xanax.

For those of you that read the blog, especially if you deal with anxiety like this, do you have to ask for something to keep you from losing your shit during stressful periods? Was I wrong to tell her the Lexapro is well and good but I just don't need it?

A Delicate Matter

I've avoided blogging about this because...well...it's personal. Not for me but for my youngest son. After some contemplation I decided he will be none the wiser if I blog about this topic and honestly, I need to vent.

For the last year, we've had issues in potty training. When Vincent turned 4 the hubs and I pretty much knew it was "time" for him to get with the program. But all of our bribes, all of our encouragement, all of our everything - just didn't work.

In the last couple of months he's reverted to "holding it". You'll see him on the floor making odd motions, grabbing himself, and generally bringing attention to the matter. Yet when we take him to the toilet he'll let out a small amount of urine and say "all done", refusing to relieve himself. After several hours, he'll be in agony, holding myself and crying. Most of the time I'm forced to place him into a tub of warm water to force the issue and get him going. Then he'll release a fountain that cannot be contained (it's even worse if by some chance this let down occurs and he's in his pull-up).

The doctor arranged for an ultrasound today to check his little kidneys and waterworks. He was a little champ during the procedure and on the trip home. I just hope they can tell me what is going on with my son. It's terrible as a parent to watch your child in agony but being unable to alleviate it.

Check Up & Shake Up

Today was Annabel's check up and routine vaccinations. She did very well and the doctor said everything was perfect. He commented on her food allergy and said to continue nursing as long as we can, he also said if things persist he will want to do some testing.

We came home and I wasn't feeling well so I laid on the floor and passed out with the baby while the other children napped. When I woke I still wasn't feeling well so I went back to bed. I woke to the phone ringing at 8:30. It was the doctor calling for Mom and I was worried so after we got everyone settled I called to check on her.

Today she was rushed for testing when she had severe chest pain. They did several things and a few of them came back "bad". She was sent for a few more things and finally was told everything was ok that it was induced by stress.

When I found this out my heart sank and I fought back panic. I adore this woman, she is my best friend, my rock. She brings out the best in me and I realized today I can't even imagine my life without her and even more so, I don't want to.

Another Day

I went to the Neuro and was given these new Lidoderm patches for my neck. They are to be worn 12 hours on and 12 off, she said it numbs the area, so here's hoping. She's scheduling a MRI for me before she'll give the go ahead for the neck blocks. So I have to wait (and it sucks!)

I hope I get most of this taken care of soon. The H.Pylori is more noticeable and Annabel continues to refuse solids so it's a constant struggle. I need to be on other medications and I just can't be until she's ready. Hopefully I'll find something more than bananas that please her picky palate.

The boys wanted to create with Play Doh so of course I made another rose, (see above). I looked all over at my pictures trying to find the cat I'd created long ago but no luck so far. When I finally come across it again I'll share the picture with you.

♥ I hope you all have a wonderful Mother's Day weekend! ♥

Caving In

The stress has become too much. Tonight after much research and soul searching I have decided to contact my Doctor tomorrow to be placed back on an antidepressant (Zoloft = heartburn for me so it will have to be Paxil which is safe while nursing). This also means I will be placed temporarily on something to alleviate this extreme anxiety (which will also be safe while nursing) which has taken such a strong hold on me.

The truth is, I can't take the stress with my health anymore, and I'm sure being off my medication has only added to the strain I'm experiencing. I'd hoped to be able to wait until Annabel weaned but as she still refuses solids or anything other than the breast I have to do this. She is older now and the amounts she'll get are very slim to none, so that is reassuring.

I've also spoken to Jimbo and Mom (Jim's Mom) and I am going to schedule my biopsy asap tomorrow (thanks Katherine). I hope this will prove to be nothing and if anything my mind will finally be at ease.

I'm seeing my Neurologist and giving the go ahead as well for the nerve blocks on each side of my neck Friday. I'm nervous but excited too. Anything to remove these migraines from my life is a plus.

Thanks everyone for your support, comments and just bearing with me as I rant. I know I've been angry and ventful recently but it's been due to these circumstances beyond my control. I hate feeling as if my life isn't being decided by me. Hopefully that is all about to change.

I'll keep you updated.

Verdict

When I got to the doctor this morning I felt something hard next to Annabel's leg in the car seat. When I pulled her out to see what it was. It was none other than our cordless telephone that I'd placed in her lap to set on the charger.

That should be an indication of how great my day is going.

I have the shingles. The doctor didn't have to look at me long to give the diagnosis. Too bad for me my doctor is tired of dealing with the nursing v/s medications game. I got a shot of steroids, some samples to rid myself of this mess and nothing else. I was somewhat shocked because it's painful and I'd been told by everyone not to fret, he would give me something for the pain. When I asked why I wasn't receiving anything I was pretty much told he gives a shot of Toradol for pain and that as I'm nursing I can't get it. I'm guessing here that a prescription to tide me over for a couple of days is too much to ask.

I'm so over this Doctor. He's always kind of rubbed me the wrong way but today was the final straw. I realize physicians have drug seekers coming in all the time but how many of them have an active case of shingles to make their case?

This makes me wonder what it will take for this man to have some compassion. In any event, I'm on the mend but the burning, itching, stinging and throbbing pain isn't going away anytime soon.

It could be worse.

Verdict

The little lump is a node and it has to come out.

After spending an hour to locate the new office (I was so embarrassed, I had to keep calling and asking, "Where are you again?!?) we got there to find out he had no definitive answer. The only way to know for certain is to remove it and send it for pathology (which he recommends). He didn't indicate why but he said he'd like to have that happen in the next 4-6 weeks.

So I'm going to be biting the bullet and undergoing the knife again for the second time in under a year. It's kind of freaky but I know it has to happen. I know it's vain of me but I'm dreading the scar I'll be left with as a souvenir. He said it would be about 3/4 of an inch or so long and judging by how the incisions healed on my belly will not be pretty. I wonder if Mederma would help?

Thank you everyone for your support and kind words. You may not realize it but it gives me so much comfort to read your comments. ♥

Go complain somewhere else!

First the sweet. I was in the office, eating my lunch, when Vincent called to me.

"Momma!" followed by inaudible gabbing.

"What baby?" I asked and stood to greet him. He looked sadly up at me and reached out.

"Momma, I sick."

I touched his forehead and it was warm again, I took him to get Tylenol before I hugged him to me and sat down. I rubbed his back for a time before taking him upstairs to nap. I got his pillows fluffed, his covers ruffled and leaned in to kiss him. He looked up at me and grinned in spite of his illness.

"Thank you Mommy." I melted inside.

Now for the shit. I went to check in on Arwen, she was very hot to the touch so I got her Tylenol (it was time) and made her soup and crackers for lunch. When I arrived back to her room she didn't want to sit up, her eyes were red and blood shot. I managed to get her to eat her soup and when she was done I felt her head again. She was boiling!

I rushed to the cabinet and grabbed the thermometer. She was running 104.5 temp! I snatched her from the bed, threw off her clothes and my own and jumped into the tub. I quickly got her fever down again and called the doctor and in we went.

During our wait Arwen was pitiful. She alternated between laying in my arms and the chair. She kept asking to go home to bed or to "lay down please". It took awhile to get back, the office was pretty full. We finally got back after maybe 20 minutes and after the nurse got her vitals I cut off the light to allow her to rest.

When the doctor finally arrived he checked her out and said we had to run to the clinic down the road. They had ran out of flu tests and she needed it done. As I was grabbing my things I heard complaining. It seems other people in the waiting room were upset over the wait. I'm not sure but I think it might have been watching my severely ill child going back first that caused part of it. I told the nurse that a 104 fever should take priority over a sprain or shot and I'd march right on out there and let whoever know it if she wanted.

We left, I carried her into the center,got the test, test was clean (no Flu!) so we hurried to the pharmacy and grabbed Arwen's meds, then returned home. She is now snuggled into her bed again, temperature under control for now. Vincent is still running a temp but it is also being managed well with Tylenol and Motrin.

I'm putting the baby on lock down. No touching her without first washing hands! To take that even further I change my shirt each time to a clean one when I hold her against me.

Please god, don't let me catch this. Please.

Sickness and Testing

Jimbo has it, so does Arwen and Vincent. That means 1/2 of the house has the flu. We have fever, coughs, and upset tummies.

I hope I don't get this, I can't afford to. Not with Jimbo sick. Arwen has been in bed ALL day. In fact, she hasn't left her room other than to go to the bathroom (and she had an accident earlier, if that is any indication of how bad this is). Vincent isn't there yet but he has held a 101+ fever most of the day. Both are on tylenol every 4 hours and round the clock liquids.

I did manage to make it to see the Neuro today. It wasn't pleasant at all. They performed a Nerve Conduction Study on my left arm and leg. It lasted about 20 minutes and by the end I kept asking, "are you almost done??" I knew being shocked intentionally wouldn't be fun but I didn't realize just how painful it can become once done over and over and over...

Good news, the tests came back ok and I didn't have to have the Electromyography but I did have to have blood work done. She is afraid my hyperthyroidism has returned along with my B12 deficency. So after being shocked several times I then got stuck. Let's hope the blood results give some insight on why I've been ill.

I return in 8 weeks (if nothing shows on the blood work) and she also wants me to consider a biopsy on the tiny little lump in my neck (I've had it for years, it would just be to "be sure"). I'm trying to keep positive but it's becoming harder and harder.

I need a vacation...

Diagnosis

So I went to the doctor, I had some x-rays. He did some tests. And the verdict is in:

Carpal Tunnel - this is why my hand is achy, weak and numb/tingly. Treatment = wrist brace at night and possible physical therapy.

Sciatica - this is what is wrong with my leg and foot. I'm going to have to kind of "wait and see" on this but at least I'm not worried this is something serious now.

Talk about feeling so old before your time.

Breastfeeding v/s Doctors Advice

I'm in a pickle. I knew I would be after reading about treatments for H. Pylori. I did my normal breastfeeding research, finding each medication that I could safely take for treatment. But there is a problem.

For certain treatment of H. Pylori doctors prefer to give the "Triple" treatment. Two antibiotics and one PPI. In my case, I can have one antibiotic and one PPI, this doesn't fly with my family doctor.

Since I've given birth he has pressured me to stop nursing the baby. Each time he sees me he comments or asks (irregardless to the fact I've answered him each time before), "how long are you nursing this baby for? babies only need to nurse for 6 weeks to get the benefit from Mother's milk." And each time I face him and let him know I'll nurse for as long as Annabel wishes but otherwise at least a year (as I've done with all of my children). He shakes his head at me. It's gotten rather old.

He's had the office contact me. He has advised them that when I come in for treatment, if I don't follow his complete advice totally, I have to sign a waiver that I didn't. So I'll be heading in this week to start a one antibiotic regimen with Prilosec. I'm also thinking of getting my hands on some Mastic gum (if it's nursing safe, going to research this morning) for the symptoms.

I'm very seriously contemplating finding another Doctor at this point and it's really sad. He's a good doctor generally. Especially for common things like colds, the flu or other less severe illness. But his stance on breastfeeding really turns me off and makes me uncomfortable. I want a physician that will work with me, not against me. What I find most surprising is any doctor would suggest a Mother stop nursing because of his personal views on nursing (his wife only nursed their daughters for 6 weeks so that is the magic number I suppose).

I just hope this works. Otherwise, if this pain and nausea persists, I may have no other choice but to wean and place Annabel on the bottle. It will be a very stressful thing to do for both of us. She doesn't like the bottle (even with expressed milk inside) and we each enjoy the closeness during her feedings. She is my last baby, I just wish I could enjoy this time together before it's gone. Then to add more complexity, Annabel has ezcema. I worry about the severity if introduced to any milk other than my own.

Oh and by the way, the picture above is the one that caused THIS huge controversy.

To your Health part deux

I've noticed something sort of funny recently. After checking how people come across my site I found I have at least a couple of people daily that find me while searching for "To your Health". I wrote the blog To Your Health some time ago and described the problems I was having as well as steps I decided to take to get better.

Then it hit me, perhaps some of the people that visited me are wondering how I'm doing now. Or maybe not but still, I figured I'd take a moment to let you in on exactly how I'm doing nowadays.

First, the gallbladder. I'm doing very well post surgery. I'm moving around fine, no huge changes there. I do have to watch my food intake as it goes straight through my system. I have a problem with milky or fatty foods and I know better than to eat out unless I don't care about being stuck in a public restroom. I am experiencing pain in the area my gallbladder once was and have made a call to my surgeon, when he calls me back I'll better know if this is normal or not (sharp, painful, stabbing pains).

Second, my hyperthyroidism. The numbers are rising closer to normal. My family doctor has decided to withhold giving me thyroid medications just yet. He wants to see if things will return to normal. He's worried if he starts me on medications I'll be on them for the rest of my life. That is currently a "wait and see" project. Sadly, this illness causes several problems and I deal with many of them. The heart racing, nervousness and such are daily occurrences and I honestly hate those the worst of all.

Third, my IBS. This is unfortunately no better. I still spend large amounts of time on my throne. Without going too much into it, I can't start medications for this until Annabel is older.

Fourth, god awful migraines. They are still here and sometimes worse than ever. I've been to the neurologist and can't take many of the medications that worked so well in the past. So currently I have narcotics I take on days when it's all too much and I sleep it off. I'm hopeful that as soon as I can return my my regimen of Toradol (imho the best medication in the world!) shots bi-weekly I'll be back to normal. I also suffer from TMJ which also is a component of my migraine severity and frequency. I have an appointment with my dentist to see what (if any) devices will help.

and lastly, my bersitis. This is an issue that comes and goes. There isn't a lot I can do about it but since it's winter, my hip continues to be a problem with all our stairs. I have days when I refuse to climb up the stairs or down. The only thing that will help with this is an anti-inflammatory medication and I can't take that and nurse Annabel. So please keep those fingers crossed for me so I can continue to nurse and not be in too much pain while doing so.

So there you have it. I'm doing much better, thank you. I'm happy to say I've lost all my baby weight and have been nursing the baby without any setbacks. Now I just need to get my lazy behind up and working out again. I know I need to but after running kids all day I'm just too exhausted. Isn't kid wrangling considered aerobic exercise??

Days of Hell - Day 5 Sunday

2am- Wake to his coughing, go in to check on him.

4am- Wake to him coughing and crying. Rush into his room. His wheeze is apparent and awful. I call Mom (mother in law). I tell her to hurry to the house. I hang up, get Jimbo and rush Logan downstairs.

4:15am- Breathing treatment is on board. I pulled out the machine and Mom arrived with his medication. I had to call her because I didn't realize we were out of packets, she has one at her home.

5:45am- We waited an hour and a half for a solid change, there is none. We decide to take Logan to the ER. We pack up and go.

6:30am- Logan is worse, he is making these terrible sounds and I'm trying not to panic. The adrenaline keeps any pain I would feel from surgery at bay. We rush him inside. The lobby is totally empty and no one is at the desk. I fill out the form.
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6:25am- A woman walks in, "how are you?" I refrain from answering with, "we are in the ER, what kind of question is that??" She leads us to a room, meanwhile Logan is looking much worse.

6:35am- Woman takes her time in triage. She stands Logan on the scale, and is trying to chatter with us. She asks us the spelling of our last time 3 different times before I finally get irrate. "Can you do his pulse ox yet please???" She looks annoyed but does as I ask. I don't get the opportunity to see the numbers, as soon as they pop onto the screen she stands. "Follow me please!" and hurries us into a room.

6:45am- Logan is given oxygen and a Doctor quickly comes in. As the Doctor listens to his chest I go over what has occurred the night before. The doctor calls for a one hour breathing treatment and steroids.

6:50am- Breathing treatment is started, steroids given. Panic is gone now so pain begins to return. I sit in a chair and hold Logans hand.

7:50am- Treatment is over. Wait for someone to come in. Logan vomits a small amount, I clean his mouth and walk to the front desk and inform them, they say someone will come shortly.

8:30am- nurse finally comes in, checks Logan and looks at the vomit. I ask about the high heart rate Logan has, she assures me this is totally normal before exiting the room.

8:55am- nurse comes back in. Doctor wants to start an IV and do blood work. I ask if we can hold off on this as Logan isn't dehydrated and didn't throw up very much at all. She says she will send in the doctor.

9:00am- Doctor comes in. He agrees to withhold on IV/blood work as Logan is autistic and is doing very well so far in the ER environment, he orders another hour long treatment with medication that won't make his heart race so high and Zofran.

9:05am- unknown woman walks in, introduces herself as the person who handles insurance. I give her my cards and license. She wants our co-pay. In our rush we forgot our checkbook. As I'm digging she stands over me. This pisses me off.

Deciding to get this bitch off my ass, I hand her the credit card. She leaves.

9:10am- begin next hour long treatment, Zofran given.

9:20am- insurance woman returns and wordlessly places our receipt and cards on the counter before walking out the door. "You're welcome!" I say to the back of her head.

10:15am- treatment is over. Heart rate is good and no nausea. He's very excitable and acting like his old self. I go to the desk and ask where I can get Logan a drink, I'm given a sprite and a straw. I thank the woman and take it to my son.

11:05am- Doctor comes in, gives instructions and tells us what medications he would like Logan to take. Follow up with our Doctor and tells us good luck.

11:40am- Drop of prescriptions, there is an hour long wait so tell them we will return for it tonight.

12:10pm- Arrive home, exhausted. I'm walking funny as my stomach hurts terribly. Jimbo tells me to go lay down, I don't argue. I climb in and stay put.

5:00pm- I look at the clock and climb out of bed. It's hard to move. My muscles don't want to listen. I go downstairs. Logan is doing well, I prepare a treatment as per Dr's orders.

8:00pm- help Jimbo put Logan into bed. After kids fall asleep we do as well, snores echo through out the house.

Days of Hell - Day 4 Saturday

I wake and try to move around. The pain is less. I stretch out the best I can and look at baby girl. She is still sleeping, the clock says 11:22.

I get up and slowly go downstairs and check on my family. Logan is coughing but otherwise all is well. I make a snack and go back upstairs and read. I have several books I've purchased. I manage to finish 2 of them in between sleep and waking.

I wake again, it's 8pm. I hear Jimbo bringing the kids up for bed and Logan is coughing worse. I climb out of bed and hurry into the boys room. Logan is warm and has the onset of wheezing. I try to refrain from getting ugly with Jimbo over not waking me.

I give Logan his nebulizer treatment,cough syrup and motrin. I kiss them goodnight and go back into my room. Then it starts...

8:45 - Logan is coughing a bit worse, it sounds bad. I get him out of bed and sit him on the toilet. I put the shower on full blast, super hot water. After 15-20 minutes the steam does its job. Logan is breathing a bit smoother and coughing less. I lay him back down.

10pm- Logan is coughing. I go in and check on him. He's still wheezing and I can't give him his treatment yet but his breathing isn't labored.

11:30- I give him his nebulizer again. He doesn't respond so back into the shower. I keep him in there until our 40 gallon water heater runs cold. He seems a bit better.

Days of Hell - Day 3 Friday

I struggle to wake and look at the clock. It's 11am. My Mom walks into the room (mother in law). She asks if I need anything. I motion toward my pain meds. The pain is awful, worse than the day before. She hands me my medication and water.

When I'm done she tells me that she got a call from Arwen's school since Arwen didn't go. She tells me that she and Jimbo noticed the Hand, Foot and Mouth on Arwen and kept her home. The teacher was angry:

"This is Mrs. B calling, wondering where Arwen is today and why she is missing class?"

"Oh hello, I'm Mrs. S, Jaime's Mother in law. She just had surgery and it was my son and I that noticed Arwen had the hand foot and mouth..."

"So she does have it??" Mrs. B rudely interrupts. "I read up on this and if she has it I'll have to degerm and sanitize the entire classroom!"

"As I'm aware of it, Jaime contacted both you and the office via phone and emails concerning this. She asked if you'd prefer she keep Arwen home and never received a response."

"Well, it's all done now. Please tell Mrs. S that I hope she recovers quickly. I look forward to Arwen being in class Monday."

"Tuesday, Arwen will be in class Tuesday."

"We are not out for Veterans Day. Arwen has class Monday."

"I'm aware of this Mrs. B, however, Arwen's doctor has advised us to keep her out for a full week, until Tuesday. So going by his orders, you will see her then."

Mom tells me this conversation, I want to go find Mrs. B and shake the shit out of her.

I crawl out of bed and walk down two flights of stairs to email Mrs. B. I call her out on the emails and phone calls which went totally unanswered. I then tell her Arwen will see her Tuesday.

I curse her name with each step I have to take back up to my bedroom.

Days of Hell - Day 2 Thursday

Get little sleep, wake at 6am, prepare daughter for school, see her off. Spend the morning with my children.

Feed the baby girl one last time before departing to the hospital. Arrive on time and sign in. Get called back. The lady assigned to perform my lab work is very unfriendly, I'm relieved when she gives me over to my nurse.

My nurses are awesome (love love love them). They calm me and I strip down to prepare. I tell the RN doing my IV my veins are good but easily blown, she listens and numbs me up, gets the IV in and has to dig a bit but there is little pain.

Surgeon comes in, I answer his questions. My heart is pounding as I kiss my Mom and Jimbo. I tell them I will see them soon and I love them. Jimbo holds on to me for a few seconds longer than usual, I lean into him.

I'm carted into surgery. Everyone is very nice, "how are you? This will be over in a snap, you'll do great!" is repeated. I'm laid upon the slim table. A mask is placed over my face and I'm told, "you've just had something inserted into your IV to calm you."

As I watch everyone standing over me, I start to feel funny. I'm asked "can you tell you've had anything?" and I say "yes".

Everything is black.

I open my eyes. There is pain, I see a nurse and she smiles. "Pushing 2 more morphine." I hear her say, followed by, "we'll get that pain under control honey." I ask for my husband and am told, "soon honey, soon."

When I'm awake I'm carted to a room to recover. I smile when I see Jim and my Mom. Shortly after Mom goes to get daughter from school and brings her in to see me. I'm released and go home.

I'm sore and it hurts badly to move. I crawl into bed and fall to sleep. The only time I wake is to nurse the baby.

Days of Hell - Day 1 Wednesday

Cell phone rings while on the way to purchase winter jackets with youngest 2 children. My oldest son is sick, rush to the school to pick him up.

Take son to the doctor, drag his sister and younger brother inside. Wait in the room while trying to keep children under control. Doctor finally comes in, diagnoses Hand,Foot and Mouth.

Leave the office and stop by McD's for some Cheeseburger Happy Meals, kids are calm while they eat, we rush home.

Arrive home, pull children from the car and see the huge mess left. Get them inside and cleaned up, put them down for nap. After they are asleep hurry outside to clean car.

Spend the rest of the night contacting teachers and bracing myself for surgery in the morning, get little sleep...

Recovering with Pumpkin Ice Cream

I'm recovering. I'm sore all over and not making it out of the bed often. Which brings me to my most recent trip to the fridge. The awesome ice cream pictured above.

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Without a doubt, my favorite ice cream in the world. Tastes just like homemade pumpkin pie. I'm so hooked and that is a bad thing since this is Limited Edition.

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So back to bed for me, with my delicious ice cream in tow. I'm going to have to find a recipe for this stuff or I'm going to go mad when it runs out.

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**I lifted this picture from another blog that agrees the ice cream isn't half bad. My digital camera is broken so I couldn't snap a shot myself of the carton.

Pondering the Future

Tomorrow is the "big day". And while I'm not having a major surgery (in fact, my surgery is considered minimally invasive) some thoughts still cross my mind.

I've always feared surgery. It stems from my cousins grandfather who passed while having a bypass on his heart. He is the person mentioned in THIS entry. He went in fine and never came out. His family was shocked and heartbroken and it made such a huge impact on me (I was only 7 or 8 years old at the time) that I've never forgotten it.

So last night I spoke to Jimbo, kind of joking but in a serious tone of what I'd like to happen in the event something went wrong on the table. He didn't want to discuss it and kept trying to change the subject but I wouldn't allow it. There were three things I wanted to make sure of.

1. He would never put another person in front of our children.

2.He would make sure my jewelry and other things were given to my children when they became mature enough to care for it.

3.He made sure to tell them how very much I love them and how much they mean to me.

This got me to thinking. It's so terrible and sad to think of parents who died and left children behind. Not so much because of what I will miss (although I admit, it hurts thinking of that) but because the child may or may not recall this love first hand. For some reason that really struck at my heart. Arwen is old enough to remember me but I'm not sure about Logan or Vincent. Annabel would have no memory of me at all.

Then I thought about Logan. There is a very real possibility that Logan will live his life indefinitely with Jimbo and I. But what would happen if it was only Jimbo? Jimbo handles the "fun" stuff but I'm the parent the children come to when they need comfort or reassurance. How would things change for them in my absence?

All of this is difficult to consider but it is something I owe to my children to think over. I've spoken to Jimbo about my wishes but have decided it is past time we execute a living will for what we want to happen in the event we pass from this world. We have to be responsible and we have to face this very adult issue.

Hopefully we each have plenty of time before that happens.

Anatomy of a Gallbladder Attack

Heated pressure in my abdomen. My eyes flutter and my pupils dilate as the wall of my room comes into focus. I look to my left and watch Annabel as she sleeps, the bathroom light casts a soft glow in the dark. Her little face is peaceful and I find myself wishing I had the same restful sleep she is experiencing. The pressure in my abdomen grows, reminding me what is coming.

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Gently, I pull the comforter away from my body. I lift myself from the bed, using my arms and legs to keep the bed from shifting and waking the baby. I cover Annabel and caress her tummy before walking to Jimbo's side of the bed. I shake his arm softly.

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"I'm having an attack, please take care of the baby." The words come out hushed but I'm close to his ear, to make sure he hears me.

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He opens his eyes, looking as if he's still in a dream and nods. I know that nod, it means to come and get him if I need him and he has the baby. As I walk out of the room I hear the bed shift, he is turning to face the baby and keep an eye on her.

.

I walk downstairs and make my way to the medicine cabinet. I down my pain medication first, I say a small prayer that the strong narcotic will have time to absorb into my system before the vomiting starts. I reach for the tums next and make sure to chew several. The pain changes from dull to sharp and I begin pacing back and forth in the basement. I keep the TV off, the only light to illuminate my basement path comes from the hallway.

.

Within minutes, the attack truly begins. I feel pain radiating through my stomach, out of my back. My shoulder gets sharp stabbing pains and I walk faster in my little basement circle. I try to keep my breathing slow and not to tense up as it only makes it worse. This goes on for 10 minutes but it feels like an hour.

.

Soon I have to make my way into the bathroom, this is where things go from bad to worse. Each time I manage to empty my stomach, the pain increases. It feels as if I've been impaled upon a huge stake and with each heave that stake is being twisted. I feel trickles of perspiration on my brow and I start to shake violently. I try to keep quiet but can't help myself, I always break and begin saying over and over "oh please god, please".

.

I rise and try to return to pacing. The pain makes me want to lay on the floor and cry but I know from past experience that the pain is actually made worse by laying down, so I make myself walk. My thoughts become incoherent as my body is immersed in pain, my mind refuses to focus on anything else.

.

Thus begins a rotation. Pacing the floor, returning to the bathroom, writhing on the floor, couch or chair. I rock quickly back and forth, arms firmly wrapped around my self as if it will minimize the agony. I've heard other people have suffered an attack for up to 8 hours before. My personal experience has seen 5 hours but it seemed a lifetime.

.

Three hours later, the attack finally ends. I am physically and emotionally spent. My entire body aches, my hair is wet and tangled, my throat burns and my right side is sore. I'm also very sleepy from the large dosage of narcotics used to help ease but not diminish the attack.

.

I pray none of you ever have gallstones. I can honestly say that apart from the 3rd degree tear I received from having Vincent, this is the worst pain I've ever experienced. I could slap myself for eating that casserole for dinner but I think I've been punished enough for one night.

.

I've decided to set up the meeting with a surgeon. I've been preparing for it for the last couple of weeks by pumping for Annabel. After tonight I know I can't keep doing this.