reece has no infection, according to the urine culture. i had to call the ER multiple times to get the result, but i suspected no abnormalities; they don't call you when tests are normal. this is NOT the result i wished for.
i've been avoiding dr. google (and the computer in general) since i saw blood, and i mean SOLID RED BLOOD, streaming from my son's...you know...weenie. i'd been suspecting it for a week or two before that; i think i thought i saw something maybe possibly in the toilet after i think reece went. then i forgot about it. then two fridays ago i saw it with my own eyes. i collected his next sample in a white mug and went to the ER. it was a good thing, as silly as i felt with a plastic-wrapped blood filled steaming mug of piss, because of COURSE, his clean-catch was yellow.
i made an appointment with the ped urologist, and we need an ultrasound. i taped up a sheet of paper and pen above the toilet so i can document every occurance of red pee, or, as reece puts it,
"MOM! my red smoke is coming out of my peen again!"
red smoke. i've asked him if it burns, hurts, tickles...i've pressed his back and belly and asked if it hurt. NOTHING. he's peeing a lot, i've noticed, but i suspect that is more out of curiosity than urgency. he wants to see the red smoke. it's fun for him; it's like a game.
IT'S NOT FUN FOR ME.
i don't want to know what else it could be, but i already kinda do. the infection would have been great. with this many obvious occurances of bloody urine, i think we are going to have to get a renal biopsy.
this could really, really turn out badly...and there's nothing i can do about it.
::::
the first appointment they gave me was july 20th. i called back yesterday and got an appointment for TOMORROW, friday. it's with a different doctor in the practice, but how much can i care about that? he's going for his ultrasound today and he'll see the urologist tomorrow. thanks for the kick in the ass.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
permission
reece peed blood yesterday. i collected some and took him straight to the emergency room, cause, you know, you never know. i've never been the rush-to-the-ER kinda girl, but since knowing babydeath, that's changed. shocker, right?
on the drive over, i started to feel funny. i'd made that drive (to the hospital and past it to many other places) but it felt different. suddenly i realized it would be my first time back in the ER since i went there to check on my non-moving baby the day before her due date.
when we walked in, i didn't remember the waiting room at all. did they take me from triage straight back into a curtained room right away? i can't remember.
they called us to the back, and lo! THE SAME ROOM. THE SAME FUCKING ROOM. room 7...not so lucky the first time. i was surprised to lose it. i've been really, really pretty good...i haven't cried in a long time. i looked at the tv and remembered watching survivorman, looked at the little bed and remembered laying there, uncomfortable. i remembered the l&d nurse coming in with the heavy-duty doppler and going over and over and over and over and over my huge belly looking for something...anything. i remember trying to hold on, i wouldn't let myself believe my baby was dead for a long, long while, probably the whole time in that curtained room. the more i remembered, the more the tears came- to the point i was scared that i wouldn't be able to stop when the doc came in.
i am really grateful for that cry.
the nurse came in, and when i looked at her face, i realized it was the same nurse. THE SAME FUCKING NURSE. she looked at me kindly and said, "i remember you."
she remembered me. she was part of it, one of the few. i go along daily, knowing that it happened to ME, that people don't dwell on someone who never really lived. we all know how it goes; we should be moving on, we should get over it, it's been a year and a half, we're talking about that again?? we also know that only people who never had a dead baby can actually believe that horseshit. that nurse, she wasn't scared to remember with me. i love her for that. she hugged me and let me cry and just, simply, let me remember too.
i'm really glad that i was able to go to that place. i've been thinking (worrying, a little) that i've buried paige and turned to denial. i've been thinking that maybe, underneath all of the getting-me-back action, i've been denying paige her place. how can you EVER be ok again after having a deadbaby if you don't just completely delete it from your life?
but...paige is there. she's always there. and that doesn't mean i can't live, too. i can let go of the alive her, and keep the dead her. and that's ok.
on the drive over, i started to feel funny. i'd made that drive (to the hospital and past it to many other places) but it felt different. suddenly i realized it would be my first time back in the ER since i went there to check on my non-moving baby the day before her due date.
when we walked in, i didn't remember the waiting room at all. did they take me from triage straight back into a curtained room right away? i can't remember.
they called us to the back, and lo! THE SAME ROOM. THE SAME FUCKING ROOM. room 7...not so lucky the first time. i was surprised to lose it. i've been really, really pretty good...i haven't cried in a long time. i looked at the tv and remembered watching survivorman, looked at the little bed and remembered laying there, uncomfortable. i remembered the l&d nurse coming in with the heavy-duty doppler and going over and over and over and over and over my huge belly looking for something...anything. i remember trying to hold on, i wouldn't let myself believe my baby was dead for a long, long while, probably the whole time in that curtained room. the more i remembered, the more the tears came- to the point i was scared that i wouldn't be able to stop when the doc came in.
i am really grateful for that cry.
the nurse came in, and when i looked at her face, i realized it was the same nurse. THE SAME FUCKING NURSE. she looked at me kindly and said, "i remember you."
she remembered me. she was part of it, one of the few. i go along daily, knowing that it happened to ME, that people don't dwell on someone who never really lived. we all know how it goes; we should be moving on, we should get over it, it's been a year and a half, we're talking about that again?? we also know that only people who never had a dead baby can actually believe that horseshit. that nurse, she wasn't scared to remember with me. i love her for that. she hugged me and let me cry and just, simply, let me remember too.
i'm really glad that i was able to go to that place. i've been thinking (worrying, a little) that i've buried paige and turned to denial. i've been thinking that maybe, underneath all of the getting-me-back action, i've been denying paige her place. how can you EVER be ok again after having a deadbaby if you don't just completely delete it from your life?
but...paige is there. she's always there. and that doesn't mean i can't live, too. i can let go of the alive her, and keep the dead her. and that's ok.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
through the paper towel tube
i went out on saturday night. it was a full-out get-ready-in-a-hotel, have a nice dinner, drink and shake-your-ass until 4am, gossip and listen-to-drama until 6am, sleep until check out and hope to god you can keep your sanity the rest of the day with the kids kinda night out.
it was a fun time.
(i felt stressed the second half of the night, wanting to go and sleep instead of stay out. i need to relax.)
i have lost a lot of weight. the IUD went in and the weight fell off; i've lost about 30lbs already. i'm happy about this, but there's this underlying feeling of desperation too. the time has finally come when i know...KNOW...that i will never be pregnant again, and there is no possible reason to be fat anymore. the last time i had a baby was a year and a half ago...and without even a baby to show for it, there's no fucking excuse to be fat.
the possibility of a pregnancy is gone, and with it, all my extra padding. this should make me feel good and proud or whatever, but it's really making my life feel very surreal.
as i waited in the bathroom of the bar, i looked at myself. "who the fuck are YOU?" i kept thinking. i am looking very much like i used to (FINALLY...it's only been 5 years...), but i'm not who i used to be. that juxtaposition of my image and my thoughts are just...weird.
i danced a lot. i turned down many guys wanting to "make out" (i didn't even know people said that anymore). i drank, but not too much, which is probably why i wanted to sleep. (note to self: get hammered next time, for christ sake!) i walked around, noticing getting noticed again. i wondered if it was how i looked or if it was something else: i am not as sad anymore.
i'm really not as sad anymore. the whole thing is starting to feel so far away. my surprise pregnancy, my dead baby, my infertility, my failed attempts for another baby. the QUESTIONS are gone. the possibilities, in that regard, are GONE. i know what is ahead of me, as much as one can, anyway. i know i will not have another baby. ever.
there are moments, though, when i see myself changing that i struggle with what exactly i'm feeling about it. am i really upset that i didn't get pregnant again? am i relieved that i didn't? am i happy? sad? do i finally feel in control, and if so, in a not-normal way? WHAT THE FUCK DO I FEEL?!? do i feel anything, really?
i'm not good at feelings; i'm good at taking action.
i am trying to find moments everyday that are really good. it's easy to feel frustrated and about to snap every fucking moment when you have three 4 year olds. i'm surprised at how many moments i was missing...calm, happy, content moments.
i can thank janis for this.
life is learning to let go. i'd been thinking about how 'old' i was feeling- emotionally tired. i was struggling with that concept when i read janis's post and it hit me: LIFE IS LEARNING TO LET GO. everything comes to pass. good things, people, places, things, expectations, feelings.
holding on to the past or future is not learning how to LIVE.
living is scary.
it was a fun time.
(i felt stressed the second half of the night, wanting to go and sleep instead of stay out. i need to relax.)
i have lost a lot of weight. the IUD went in and the weight fell off; i've lost about 30lbs already. i'm happy about this, but there's this underlying feeling of desperation too. the time has finally come when i know...KNOW...that i will never be pregnant again, and there is no possible reason to be fat anymore. the last time i had a baby was a year and a half ago...and without even a baby to show for it, there's no fucking excuse to be fat.
the possibility of a pregnancy is gone, and with it, all my extra padding. this should make me feel good and proud or whatever, but it's really making my life feel very surreal.
as i waited in the bathroom of the bar, i looked at myself. "who the fuck are YOU?" i kept thinking. i am looking very much like i used to (FINALLY...it's only been 5 years...), but i'm not who i used to be. that juxtaposition of my image and my thoughts are just...weird.
i danced a lot. i turned down many guys wanting to "make out" (i didn't even know people said that anymore). i drank, but not too much, which is probably why i wanted to sleep. (note to self: get hammered next time, for christ sake!) i walked around, noticing getting noticed again. i wondered if it was how i looked or if it was something else: i am not as sad anymore.
i'm really not as sad anymore. the whole thing is starting to feel so far away. my surprise pregnancy, my dead baby, my infertility, my failed attempts for another baby. the QUESTIONS are gone. the possibilities, in that regard, are GONE. i know what is ahead of me, as much as one can, anyway. i know i will not have another baby. ever.
there are moments, though, when i see myself changing that i struggle with what exactly i'm feeling about it. am i really upset that i didn't get pregnant again? am i relieved that i didn't? am i happy? sad? do i finally feel in control, and if so, in a not-normal way? WHAT THE FUCK DO I FEEL?!? do i feel anything, really?
i'm not good at feelings; i'm good at taking action.
i am trying to find moments everyday that are really good. it's easy to feel frustrated and about to snap every fucking moment when you have three 4 year olds. i'm surprised at how many moments i was missing...calm, happy, content moments.
i can thank janis for this.
life is learning to let go. i'd been thinking about how 'old' i was feeling- emotionally tired. i was struggling with that concept when i read janis's post and it hit me: LIFE IS LEARNING TO LET GO. everything comes to pass. good things, people, places, things, expectations, feelings.
holding on to the past or future is not learning how to LIVE.
living is scary.
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