Tag: hospitals

the final countdown.

the final countdown.

by Joanne ♥ 34 Comments

Today’s musical interlude brought to you courtesy of Europe.

Bags are packed. All things baby have been set up, washed, placed and purchased.

Family and friends are all on standby. Camera batteries are fresh. Phones have been charged.

The boy is watching a movie to distract himself. I’m not quite sleepy, so I’m doing some editing work for a client, trying to take my mind off off what is in store for me tomorrow.

I’ve had my final meal of the day; I can’t eat anything after midnight.

I’ve cried. I’ve prayed. I requested that others do the same (pray, not cry).

I’ve done all that there is to do.

By this time tomorrow, I’ll be a mommy.

Un-freaking-believable.

Wish me luck, y’all.

if it ain’t one thing…

if it ain’t one thing…

by Joanne ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

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I have one of these about once or twice a month. Well-done. With bacon. Now verboten. This makes me so sad. Thanks A LOT, Aisha. 😦

I was back at L&D bright and early Sunday morning. I got my dad to drop me off, and texted the boy to meet me later. Upon my arrival, I didn’t even have to re-process; I showed up and explained why I was there, and the reception nurses were all, “oh, yes… you were here last night, abdominal pains, come right in.”

I was set up on a bed in triage, hooked up to the NST monitors again (netting, dopplers, and movement clicker thingy) and told to hang tight while they located an ultrasound tech.

Even though it was empty, triage is a white-noise cacophony of the whirs and buzzing of various machines. Over the rapid “squooshing” of Aisha’s heartbeat on the fetal monitor, I could hear the primal, pained vocalizations of a lady in the throes of labour down the hall. After about ten minutes of grunts and sceams, there was momentary silence… and then the faint wail of a baby. I smiled, recalling how much I enjoyed hearing that sound during my stay last September. Read more ›

repeat offender.

repeat offender.

by Joanne ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

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This time, it ain’t my baby that ails me.

I just got back home from being in hospital – again! This makes visit number five since September.

I went in yesterday evening for sharp, stabbing pains at the top right of my abdomen. It’s been ongoing since Peanut dropped sometime on Thursday night, and I worried (briefly) that it might be placental abruption. There has been no bleeding and no nausea, chills or fever, so I was pretty sure I wasn’t in the throes of anything serious. However, the area was tender to the touch, and since my name is not Doc McStuffins, I thought it would be better if I made a visit to Labour & Delivery to get checked out.

The nurses at L&D at my home hospital are more than familiar with me, so admission was a breeze. Besides, it’s rare that anyone wanders into L&D after 10pm, so it was a light night. I was set up in a bed in triage, asked to give a urine sample and squeeze into the netting that holds the various monitors required to assess me, and was told that a nurse would be in momentarily.

I was hooked up to sensors to follow Peanut’s heartbeat and movement, and after about 30 minutes the printouts from the machine led the nurse to determine that the baby was fine. Since I’d come in complaining of abdominal pain, she wondered if it might not be some kind of heartburn? And perhaps if I took sodium citrate I might feel better? Read more ›

OT: one unhappy camper.

OT: one unhappy camper.

by Joanne ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I went to visit the boy after surgery #2 this afternoon, and boy, what a difference from yesterday.

I picked the evening shift, as his mother had made him some soup and other comfort-food yummies. Upon delivering them, I was greeted by a grumpy, slightly bleary-eyed version of my beloved. I soon learned that while the second surgery was also a success, the pain of the first was starting to set in, coupled with the fresh discomfort of the second.

He was completely on edge today. And I tried not to let his surliness get to me, but when he’s miserable, he can be a downright mean and ornery SOB. I had to take a moment at one point to have a little cry in the bathroom (again, hormones. The un-pregnant me would have sucked my teeth and cussed him out, surgery or no).

The patient rooms bunk in twos, and he’d gotten a new roommate – a brown, Muslim guy from Trinidad whose name escapes me at the moment (meh. For story’s sake, I’ll call him Jamal). He was talkative and lively, in the way I find most Trinis to be, and I was thankful for his presence. Jamal had apparently come in the night before, and the boy had told him all about me and my Bajan background. Having him there today forced the boy to be social, and we spent the rest of the evening exchanging funny stories and bonding over our West Indian commonalities.

Still, I was relieved when 9 o’clock rolled around and visiting hours were over. It’s been an emotional week, and even though he’s in pain, I know the boy will be okay. He walked me to my car, and sent me off with a kiss and an apology for being so surly. He’s got one more full day in the hospital, and then he can come home to convalesce.

Thank God. He’ll be a LOT happier there. And then his mother can dote on him for a bit. I’m not cut out for this.

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Srsly? The boy makes Grumpy Cat look positively sunny.

OT: one of two.

OT: one of two.

by Joanne ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

The boy survived the first surgery.

I went to see him today, and yesterday (immediately post-op). I was so happy to see him looking healthy and smiling, that I cried with relief (which surprised the hell outta me. I’m not typically that weepy. Must be the hormones).

Aside from a little bit of discomfort, he said he felt all right, and when I went to visit him today, he seemed to be doing even better. I had picked up his mother so she could visit, and then his sister drove in from Milton to meet us there. The four of us sat out under one of the gazebos on the grounds and chatted. It was such a beautiful day, and I can’t say enough how gorgeous the facility is. I joked and told him it was more like we were visiting a celebrity rehab joint. There were other families visiting patients, sitting on benches in the sun, or walking along the cobblestone pathways. A few of them were playing on the mini golf course, while others took to the shade. Everyone seemed so relaxed. It was rather strange.

He’d shown me his scar yesterday, and said that due to painkillers he didn’t actually hurt, but the way the doctors had closed up the incision, things felt really tight in the groin area. But he was talking, laughing and walking (albeit slowly), so I wasn’t terribly worried.

Just before the two-hour visiting window was up, the boy’s sister asked to snap a shot of us. Turned out pretty nicely, I gotta say.

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Look at him. The picture of health. I’m almost inclined to think he’s faking it! 😀

Surgery #2 is tomorrow, and then he’ll be discharged on Saturday. I’m just so happy this hernia business is about to be all over, because it’s really taken a toll on him, and put a damper on his/our summer. He’s been on modified duties at work, and because of major discomfort, he can hardly walk or sit for any great length of time. We’ve spent most of the season with him flat on his back or reclined in a chair in his backyard. It doesn’t sound like such a bad deal, but Toronto truly comes alive in summer. We’ve missed out on so many things, and while he hasn’t said, I know it’s been bumming him out.

Oh, well. At least he’s getting the treatment he needs. It’s costing a bit because we’ve gone private, but if he waited for the public health system, he wouldn’t have been able to get an operation until November.

And that just wouldn’t do.

Here’s hoping that tomorrow is just as successful.

Muitos beijos, amor!

OT: under the knife.

OT: under the knife.

by Joanne ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

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These oughta do the trick.

The boy was admitted into hospital today.

His first hernia surgery isn’t until tomorrow morning, but all of the pre-requisite sign-in stuff was today. It was a long process and he’s not the most patient man in the world, so he was a little edgy. I also know it’s because he was nervous. He’s never had surgery before, and he’ll be at the facility for a week (we opted to go private to get a faster appointment, as opposed to waiting until November thru public health). After he was shown his room and unpacked his stuff, we took a walk around.

It’s completely beautiful, like a spa for men. Beautiful grounds with fruit trees, benches, a mini-putting green…you would never believe that just a kilometre out there’s a busy road and non-stop traffic. There are two shifts of visiting hours: 4-6 and 7-9PM, and since I was with him during the second shift, we did a little jailbreak and headed out to McDonald’s to grab a bite and enjoy our time together until lockdown.

He goes for surgery #1 tomorrow morning at eight. He gave me a Big Mac-flavoured kiss goodbye as I promised to come see him in the afternoon.

He’ll be all right.

He has to be.