Works for Me Wednesday -- Snack Carrier

After my son began drinking whole milk and I stopped carrying around formula every where I went I contemplated what to do with the formula holder. Then it hit me (well, I read it in Parents magazine) I could use the formula holder to carry his snack items. The formula container has 4 compartments and this allows for up to four snack items to be stored. I currently have 1 compartment with cheerios, another with Gerber fruit puffs, and 2 with goldfish (the favorite snack item). You can just turn to a specific snack item, open the lid and pour out the snacks. Even for those of you who breastfeed or didn't have a formula holder, it would be a great investment for ya to store those every so handy and necessary snacks.

For more Works for Me Wednesday tips visit Shannon at Rocks in My Dryer.

Do you want fries with that?

I have noticed lately that if we are running through the fast food drive thru I tend to make choices for Hoss that I don't make for myself. I am always certain to be sure I substitue a healthy item for the fries option for his Kiddie Meal, but darn it I make sure I get me some fries. I will get yogurt or apples and always milk for him, but look at me with my 32 oz. coke and super size fries. What a good example! Maybe I should start to use this strategy for myself. Actually I am certain I should or I should just avoid the drive thru's all together. Hmmm...that #4 meal sure sounds good though! I should not have written this post before lunch. Darn commericals!

October 5, 2005

Qtpies7 is having a contest for the best birth stories. I'm always up for a good contest! So here goes:

My pregnancy was rather uneventful...or so I thought. I knew that the dear little boy inside my womb was large ("hoss cat" as I called him) as several ultrasounds had declared. I also knew that this dear little boy was also breech and he was stuck. His head sat under my right rib cage for at least the last month of pregnancy. It was about 4 weeks out that I realized my obgyn had diagnosed my pregnancy as "high risk." And how did I discover this? I read it on my chart when I went to go check out after an appointment. I was high risk because of the large and breech child inside of me. I had a lot of swelling throughout the entire pregnancy so nothing was very alarming to me. During the last few weeks my blood pressure continued to rise. I was scheduled for a C-section at 39 weeks.

Hormones, anticipation, and nerves lead to tears daily for 2 weeks prior to this arrival. I am not a very good patient and I HATE needles, so the word C-section did not settle in my mind very easily.

The day arrived. My husband and I went to an early morning breakfast for my "final" meal and then got things ready. I made sure I had everything packed, the house was clean and I just sat and waited. I had to be at the hospital at 3 p.m. My parents arrived around 2 and off we went to the hospital. I had not had one labor pain to that day, but I was familiar with the hospital as I had been there 4 times during this pregnancy (once for dizziness/high bp, once for lack of fetal movement, and 2 falls -- one 2 days prior to the scheduled C-section).

We arrived and I settled into my room. The first order of business was vitals and an IV. I was a bit panicky and due to my incredible swelling the IV was difficult to start so after 3 tries (and on a bad patient, this was not good) the IV was flowing. As the nurse left the room she asked if I needed anything, my response, "Valium." She laughed, but I wasn't joking...I needed something.

5 p.m. arrived, the time for the actual procedure. I am walked back to what I remembered as being the coldest room I had ever been in (the operating room) to have the spinal and other prep completed as my husband was left to dress in the husbandly c-section attire. I was incredibly nervous about every second. The anesthesiologist met me in the room and began the spinal. This was nothing I tell ya...the IV was worse. Within 20 seconds of the spinal being in place my legs were numb. The anesthesiologist also told me he was going to give me a "calming" medication through my IV (I guess my request for Valium and the IV experienced warned them that I was not the best patient).

Next enter the doctor and the assistant. Catheter placed, stomach prepared. I layed on the table with both arms stretched out and the thought kept crossing my mind, "I am going to die right here like Jesus on the cross." I was petrified.

My husband came in and he said I was already "gutted like a fish" (there's a visual image for ya today). Soon the doctor asks the nurse what my BP was when I came in. She said she could not remember, but would check the chart. I pipe up "144/90." I knew it was high when they took my vitals so the number stuck in my head. The OB was impressed with my knowledge, but then I hear him tell the assistant, "this fluid and swelling is the beginning stages of pre-eclampsia." Oh, I forgot to tell you, I had to have a vertical incision for the excessive swelling on the bottom of my stomach.

I don't remember much more of the procedure except I kept trying to move my feet, like it was a game. I couldn't feel ANYTHING...nothing from my chest down. My arms were even tingling. I guess this game is why I was given a second dose of the "calming" medicine by the anesthesiologist.

There was some difficulty getting Hoss Cat's head loose from under my rib cage, but he successfully emerged and the following statements were made:
"Wow! Look at him!"
"This is a big boy!"
(You get the drift)

The next thing I hear is "18, 11." As I have previously posted, I immediately stated "He does NOT weigh 18lb, 11 oz does he?" And as soon as the statement left my lips I realized "18, 11" was the time he was born.

No, he did not weigh 18, 11, but he did weigh 10lb. 5oz. I saw Hoss for a few seconds and the dh took him off the nursery with the nurse. I lay on the table relieved and extremely happy from the "calming" medicine. About an hour later, 2 drainage tubes applied and lots of bleeding I was rolled back to my room.

The dh was waiting for me, but the baby was still in the nursery (due to his size he was being tested for diabetes...which he did not have). The next thing I know...the nurse is checking my incision and draining and is commenting on the amount of blood. Then the doctor returns, checks the bleeding and says that I may have to return to surgery if the bleeding does not subside. Well, it subsided, but those first few hours were scary.

The actual "birth" was not nearly as traumatic as the recovery. The removal of the last drainage tube 2 WEEKS later was extremely painful. The nurse telling me I had to give myself shots in my stomach daily led to a post-partum disaster right there at the hospital. I cried every day, once because the hospital did not bring me dinner (the poor girl who came to get my tray...that I did not have...sure witnessed a complete post-partum break down).

And now 16 months have passed and the pain, the post-partum, the nervousness have all subsided and I'm ready to do it all over again....eventually!

Please pray for Nick

I have resisted sharing with my dear Christian blog cohorts the story of Nick, an 11 year old with brain cancer, as I have waited on approval from his family for permission to share his story; however, I can't resist any longer. I am positive the family would love your prayers going up to the Healer for Nick.

Four summers ago, when Nick was 7, they found the first brain tumor, and surgery, chemo, radiation followed. All was well for Nick. Periodic MRI's confirmed the cancer was gone, but last August, at a routine eye appointment, it was determined the tumor was back and much larger. Surgery followed, and then a second surgery in the neck area to remove a spot from the spine. A third suspicious spot on the spine was just cleared on last Friday's MRI. His parents (Tim and Tammy) chose an aggressive treatment program because this cancer is so aggressive and they are about half way through the chemo course, traveling to Columbus, Ohio, for that monthly. Nick has been very sick, weak and immunity deficient but they have such a large support system thru the college Tim teaches at (Kentucky Christian University, my alma mater), First Church in Grayson, and co-workers. And, they have many, many prayer warriors as many of us have spread their request for prayer and shared Tammy's almost daily updates ....which blesses us with their faithful examples and encouragement.

I have a close connection to Nick and his family. Tammy, his mother, has been a part of my life from day 1. She attended church with my parents when they were dating and teenagers and her parents were "God parents" so to speak for my sister and I. While I was at college, their family was a home away from home. Tammy and Tim have 5 kids, 4 boys and 1 daughter, adopoted from India. Nick is the youngest boy. In the early 90s they had a daughter, Adrienne, die from SIDS at 7 weeks. I was 12 at that time and remember the funeral. One thing I remember the minister saying at the funeral was that this tragedy could not have happened to a stronger Christian couple. This has stuck with me for 14+ years and as I was able to spend time with the family on a day to day basis for 4 years I learned it was true. I spent a lot of time with the family, babysitting all 5 at times. Tammy and Olivia (their daughter) were in my wedding back in '04.

A website has been developed to help everyone to follow the process of Nick's treatment. He is currently receiving chemotherapy. Please become a prayer warrior and pray for Nick during this trying time. The updates and emails will bless your socks off!

Woo Hoo...I have made it!

I have regular readers!

I have received comments from Qtpies7 a couple times, and great comments they were...good advice. So I decided I should frequent Qtpies7's blog since she so kindly is frequenting mine. And you know what I discovered??? (Besides that the 7 in her name means that she has 7 kids...she deserves some recognition just for that! Oh, and our husbands have the same name)

I have made someone's blog list!

Hallelujah, Praise the Lord!

Someone thinks I'm good enough to add me to a list! So Qtpie7, welcome to my list of frequented blogs and hopefully I will soon send some comments your way.

Then I received a comment on my blog yesterday from Janelle. She promised to return to this very blog so I figured I should check out this Janelle person. I discovered that we have at least one thing in common, we are working mothers. And we have sons, well, I only have one, but she has 3, so boys are common ground. We working mothers of sons have to stick together so Janelle, welcome aboard to my frequented blogs!

I am looking forward getting to know you two and everyone else in bloggy land!

Contest time again!

Go check out the great contest at 5 Minutes for Mom! This week they are giving away a gift certificate to Stork Calling! (I am hoping to win to give it as a gift to an expecting friend or cousin). Check it out and Good Luck!

"We're on FIRE????"

I have not yet discussed with the blogging world my profession. I work for an agency that supports adults with mental and physical disabilities. I greatly enjoy my job. I have been with this agency for nearly 5 years and have been blessed beyond belief with great jobs and fabulous friendships. I felt a calling to work with this population when I was in college and immediately upon graduating I began working direct care for this agency. My job has challenges every day and every day I laugh, cry and rejoice with someone. I want to tell a story of an event which tested my passion at the beginning of career, it's notoriously known around here as "The Van Story."

I was asked to work some overtime and drive down to a camp where 8 of our participants had spent the last week and pick those ladies up and bring them home. An easy way to earn a few extra dollars so I was on board. I had not met many of these ladies as I had only worked for the agency for about 2 months. I arrived at work around 10 a.m. to get the van and get moving. Another staff who I had not met was going with me. She agreed to drive down to the camp and then I would drive back. Easy as pie, or so I thought.

We load up in the 15 passenger van to travel the hour down the interstate to the camp. Let me describe this beautiful piece of equipment they called a van...it was circa 1985 (this event was in 2002), had no power steering left and the steering wheel shook the entire time you were driving, regardless of how fast you were going. The van's air conditioning was no more and it was August. But it moved and the radio worked!

As we traveled down the interstate we recognized that the console between the driver and the passenger seat was getting hot and the other girl's pb and j sandwich melted...yes, melted. We just passed it off as the temperature and lack of A/C.

So we get to the camp...oh, did I mention that this is in the mountains of Kentucky...where gaurdrails are few and far between? We get the ladies and their luggage ready to go. One of the ladies had fallen the previous day and had stitches in one knee. I spent 20 minutes talking to camp staff about how to care for the injury and finally we were on our way. We discovered that the ladies had not eaten lunch yet and it was close to 1 p.m.

I asked everyone if they had money and even made them show me their money...most did so we decided to stop at a McDonalds by the interstate. Once arriving at the McDonalds it was evident that the money they had shown me was a dollar here or a penny there because very few had enough money to purchase lunch. I ended up purchasing several lunches, including my own.

Now as I had mentioned previously I did not know many of these ladies so I let the majority of them order whatever they wanted, you know, Big Macs, Quarter Pounders, etc.

So we eat, pee, and board the van again. I thought we were home free. Boy was I wrong.

About 5 miles from our exit the van jerks and a huge puff of smokes shoots out the back. I passed it off for bad exhaust and slowed down a bit, after all we were heading up a hill. As we were traveling up the hill a car pulls up next to us and rolls down their window. They were attempting to communicate to me. I turned down the radio to hear what they had to say. It went something like this,

"We have a flat tire?"
"No?"
"WE'RE ON FIRE?????!!!!!!"

Yes I yelled the last statement to a van full of disabled women. Hysteria set in immediately. Screaming, crying, etc.

I pulled the van over onto the side of the road and jumped out. As soon as I hit the ground, my legs gave and I nearly fell over. I began to tell myself I could do this I could do this. We hurried and got everyone out of the van and called for help (Praise God for handy cell phones!).

Rest at ease, when I turned the van off, the flames and smoke which were apparently shooting out of the bottom of the van, IMMEDIATELY BELOW ME!, diminished.

We assisted everyone over to the opposite side of the guardrail for safety. This entailed walking to the end of the guardrail with one lady (about 1/4 of a mile) and then back down to everyone else because she refused to climb over it.

So the story should end here, but oh no it does not! As we are standing waiting for the rescue team there are a lot of conversations which go like this:

"What about my suitcase?"
"Your suit case is fine, the van is not on fire now."
"It was on fire?"
"Yes, but we are fine now."
"My suitcase is going to burn up!!!"
"No, it is okay, I promise."

And

"I'm hot!"
"We all are hot!"
"When are they coming to get us?"
"Very soon I promise."

(Lots of promises made that day!)

And on and on. Well, then the unthinkable happens...the Big Mac, Quarter Pounder, Large cokes set in....bathrooms are needed. Of course I was not pulling over to try to find a secluded area so we are in a wide open area with nothing around for shelter. We are able to take one of the ladies down the hill to squat and pee...except she cried instead of peeing...lovely. Then the Big Mac really did set in. One of the ladies stated she needed to do more than pee. We asked her to wait until we could get back on the road and to a restroom, but mother nature did not allow such. And here goes the diarrhea, down her shorts, into her shoes...oh it was a sight.

Thus new conversations ensued:

"She stinks!"
"Gross!"
"Yuck!"
"I'm standing over here."
"When can we go home?"

We decided to try to clean her up the best we could with supplies from the van and then when the new van got there to pick us up we would help her change. So we go to the van and what do we find, but 1 glove and 1 paper towel. Count them...1! So the supplies were short and the diarrhea continued, it was a disaster.

Finally, nearly 2 hours later, the replacement van shows up...always fast service when there are 10 people standing on the side of the interstate in August (and wouldn't you know no one once stopped to see if we needed help).

Our first order of duty, getting poopy pants changed. So, out come the suitcases and where was the one suitcase we needed? STILL AT THE CAMP! How could this happen? We are able to borrow clothing from someone else and use the fully stocked replacement van to get the situation under control. And finally we are off and running again.

It was encouraging to find out that they decided to just tow away the van to the junk yard and the next week a brand new van was purchased. So the running joke is if we need something new, just let Jessica use the old one.

Yes, I still work here...5 years and counting and stories continuing!

This is just the first installment of many work adventures. Tune in for more stories, coming soon. Some even involve other vans!