My Friday

Friday I was scheduled for a CT scan of the abdomen and pelvis. My urologist was looking for stones. This scan has been rescheduled three times due to problems with the machine, so finally after 3 weeks, I am getting this thing done.

I was asked to arrive an hour before my 8:00 am appointment time. Fasting. Nothing to eat or drink after midnight. So, when I got there, I was given berry flavored barium to drink. What a yummy breakfast... After half an hour, they confirmed I had consumed all of the liquid yumminess. The next battle was confirming that I was not pregnant. I had to sign 14 pages swearing to not being pregnant and then I was told that they couldn't do a pregnancy test on me because I was still breastfeeding. It might come out positive!?! What? I have never heard that before, but whatever, me and my not pregnant self needed to get a CT, so get ON with it...

Strip down to underwear. Put on really special gown that opens in the back. And then, walk down the hall. I need to mention that this office is where everyone goes for radiation treatment for prostate cancer. Yet again, I was the only female patient anywhere to be seen under the age of 40. Make that 35. (I am still under 35) So I get to prance down the hall with my panties hanging out the back right in front of the dirty old men that can't... well never mind.

The procedure is supposed to be painless. Enter the IV. Why don't the techs ever listen to the patient? They can never get an IV in my right arm. But everyone I tell this to must think it is a challenge, to be the first to conquer the right arm. Let's just leave it with I left Friday with holes in both arms and they were both bruised. Score: right arm 1, ct tech 0. Witch. I told you so.

After the scan is finished, they have you get dressed, but leave in the IV and wait in the waiting room. So, off I go - prance in front of old men, cover butt with clothes, go out to waiting room, all while keeping both arms extended. I wait 5 minutes, then they call me back to take out IV. (I am sure this super efficient process is so that some radiologist somewhere looks at the scan to make sure that it is good enough.) Only, when they called me, I was sitting in a chair that I had sunk into and couldn't get up. My arms hurt and couldn't quite grab on to the armrests. A nice lady, probably wife to one of the old men, offered to help me out of the chair. I must have really looked bad to have a 70 year old offer to help ME...

The IV came out and they handed me a CD. "Give this to your Doctor." It was labeled with my name and the date. I couldn't wait to get back to my computer and see what was on the disc.

I get back to the office, fire up my friend, Mr. Google, and start searching. I put the disk in the drive and it opens a mini-application and gives me a message..."Loading images X of 478". Sweet. I have 478 images of my guts to look at. Wow, they must really want to see my insides.

I start looking at the images. The first one looks like a regular X-ray. I see ribs, pelvis, and some shadows. I look at the outline. Great. Even in an X-ray, you can see fat rolls. How nice. The next one is a side view of me, which I can't see much of except a squished outline of my butt. I am certain it is a squished view because I know when I look in the mirror it is much more toned than that image portrays. And they say the camera adds 25 pounds...

The next images are slices of my insides, of which little is recognizable to my untrained and uneducated eye. I don't worry. Mr. Google knows everything and I am certain that I can find enough information on the web to formulate my own diagnosis.

Before I know it, an hour has passed. I can find my kidneys, spleen, liver, intestines and bladder. Maybe the stomach... not too sure of that one. But I do know for certain that I have 2 kidneys. Now, whether or not there are stones, that is for the professional to decide.

My diagnosis: The test confirmed it. I have kidneys. Having kidneys is a prerequisite to having a kidney infection, so that must be what it is. And I can't imagine what they billed my insurance company...

Wud Dyu!

When your baby is born, you are so excited. And then what... You wait for them to do something. First it is, "Look, he can hold his head up." Then, "He rolled over!" Every day, week, month, and year brings a new milestone that, as a parent, you celebrate and use that milestone to compare your beautiful, wonderful, highly intelligent, and advanced child to those other not so cute or smart children of your friends and families.

Yes, you do it, too. We all do it. It is only natural.

Watching the communication skills of Cutter and Kenzie evolve is really fun for me. With Hailey and Hunter, I was learning and didn't really have fun doing it. (Maybe it was because I was too busy getting divorced, paying bills, going to school, and making a career, but that's beside the point.) Okay, Kenzie is only four months old. But I find myself signing to her and actually waiting for a response. They say that you should start introducing signs to them at four months, right? So, I am right on schedule. Chad laughs at me. He pops his head in over her and talks to her and she giggles and coos. "See, she's laughing at me." Well, of course she is. You are funny looking... She is smart. And she knows it. Kenzie thinks "Watch how fast I can make you run!" Puke flies out of her mouth. Chad jumps and runs for a burp cloth. Kenzie laughs again. She was right and she got a bonus jump out of the deal. So I am going to keep signing to her. She knows what to do when the time is right.

Watching Cutter talk and communicate with us is proving to be a daily laugh. At dinner Hailey was teaching him to say "ummm, ummmm, delicious." He now says, "Ummm, Ummm, DISHES!" when he eats. So if you hear him talk about dishes, he is referring to the good taste of the food, not wanting to clean up. He is a male, after all.

Every night before bed, Cutter kisses us good night. Then we say "Love you, Cutter." For several weeks he has just waved back. Now he says "Wud Dyu."

Wud Dyu. Love You. Close enough for me! My babies are the cutest and smartest kids in the world!

PS: Thanks to Cousin Marin, Cutter has developed a sticker fetish. Last night at national nite out, he got a police badge sticker from the police officers. He put it on his shirt. Then insisted it go on his pajamas. This morning he had to have it put on his clean shirt and wear it to school. I hope he forgets about it tonight. He can CLEARLY say "Sticker, I want my sticker..." and cry. Off to CVS to buy stickers...

Tuesday Night Lights

Tuesday is football night. Yes, its true. If you have a seventh grade football player, it is indeed football night. Hunter is on the Longhorn Seventh Grade "A" team. Chad and I agree that it is important that one of us be in attendance at all football games. I want to make sure that someone is there in the event that he does get hurt. (This is a remote chance, and I am not a super paranoid parent, but someone should be there.) So, that means that Chad goes to all of the away games. Breastfeeding and seventh grade football games don't mix. When there is an away game, I stay home with the little kids. When there is a home game, we all go, and Chad stays with the babies until there is a meltdown. Then he goes home and I stay.

Last night, I stayed. But, this was our first Tuesday night game with the babies. We decided to load up the wagon. Its a two-seater. If you don't have one of these, be sure to ask Santa for one. It is great. My niece calls it the "dragon" as we dragged the kids around in it all weekend! Way better than a double stroller. We even took it to Target, but that's another story.

The game was okay and the kids were fine. At half-time, it was bed time. Chad headed toward home and I was left to interpret the game by myself. It was a different world. I looked around the stands, and I realized, I knew 1 parent in the entire crowd. This was a DIFFERENT crowd. The parents that remained were die hard. There was a ton of yelling: at the coaches, at the officials, at the timekeeper, and at the kids. Luckily, I have been studying the game and was able to understand most of what was going on.

I don't know what I think about being in this particular parent crowd. The dads that were there were VERY critical of every kid on the field. And they would scream things to the kids on the field. There seemed to be pecking order in the crowd. The dad of the son that was getting the most yards had the "right" to be the most critical. And of course, anything great that happened was a result of "their teaching" or "their coaching." This seemed to go on between 5 or so parents. I am glad that Hunter had a good game and none of these crowd experts were compelled to yell at him. I think if they had, I might not have been able to keep my mouth shut... and then Chad would have had to figure out how to get 2 sleeping babies out of bed to come get me out of jail.

A Glimpse of Me in the Future?

Thursday was an exciting day. I got to go to the urologist. Yeah for me.

When I made this appointment a couple of weeks ago, the receptionist had mailed me the new patient information packet that I was supposed to complete prior to arrival. As is typical for a doctor's office, there were 47 forms all of which required you to write your name, address, social security number, insurance information, etc. repeatedly. (I am going to make labels of this information for myself the next time I go to the doctor and stick one on every page!) Why do you have to hand write the same information on page after page? Can't they just type it once? What a waste of time. I digress...

Earlier in the day, I had completed all of the paperwork and had made copies of my insurance card and drivers license, and put everything in a manilla folder including copies of all of my labs from my other doctor. I am so organized. :-) So, when I got there, I just handed the receptionist my folder. She, of course, tried to stop me, by finding fault with my ability to fill in all of the blanks, but I had already checked and had filled them all in. I quickly sat down. There were 4 other "patients" in the waiting room - 3 men and 1 woman. I was probably 40 years younger than each of them. At least 40 years. The woman was by far the funniest. After I dropped off my info, she stormed the receptionist.

Lady: "Do you have Dr. X's phone number?"
Receptionist: "Dr. who?"
Lady: "Dr. X's."
Receptionist: "No." (Clearly annoyed.)
Lady: "Don't you have some Dr. book back there that I can use?"
Receptionist: "A Dr. book? (rolls eyes) I have a phone book."
Lady: "Gimme that."
Receptionist: Slams yellow pages down on counter. "There you go."

The lady then goes into the corner, where there is a phone. She starts calling doctors offices. I don't know if they were random doctors or doctors who are lucky enough to call her a patient, but the typical phone call when like this:

Lady: "Do you have any flu shots?" This part was always screamed, as if the person on the other end couldn't hear, when I am fairly certain, the lady must be somewhat hearing impaired.
Lady: "When are you getting some?"
Lady: "Well, where am I supposed to go to get one. I have to have a flu shot."
Lady: "Well, I guess I'll have to go to Walgreens."
Lady: Slams down the phone and starts to flip the pages of the doctor book angrily.

Clearly, she was in want of a flu shot, in a bad way. I know I heard her call at LEAST 3 different offices.

The three other men in the office were all struggling to complete there paper work. The receptionist kept finding errors and omissions from their packets. Also, the lighting was poor and the print was small. I am not looking forward to getting any older.

Going to the urologist was about as you would expect. I did pause to take a photo of the "special" chair used in exams.

How fun is that?

Potty Success - Sort of...

At Cutter's daycare, the room he is in is Potty Centric. It is filled with kids that are in the potty training stage. Hmmm. Well the kids may not be in the potty training stage, but of potty training AGE... So, he sees it all day long. Everyone lines up to go potty.

Several weeks ago, we thought we should buy a potty for the house. If daycare is working on this, then we should too. I bought this one, because it looked comfortable. Like a 2 year old cares. Actually, the reason I bought this one is that it was in stock the day I went to BRU. It's a potty.

We showed the potty to Cutter. He knows what it is. He knows where it is. In fact, every night before he gets in the bath tub, he takes it apart, puts it back together, sits on it, and produces zero bodily fluids: fun is over - gets in the bath tub. This ritual has been going on for about a month.

Saturday, Cutter was in the tub and let out a little toot. Then he said "Potty?!?" I was out of the room at the time feeding Kenzie. Chad decided to let him out so he could sit on the potty. Sit it on he did. He squeezed his knees together and peed... all over the bath room.

Chad has been cursing the potty since I bought it claiming it is too small. Okay - potties don't come in sizes. Cutter will just have to learn to point it down or sit on the regular potty. This, however, was little consolation while you are cleaning urine up off of the floor.

Chad did the right thing... he praised Cutter for his accomplishment. When I heard the commotion, I went into the bathroom and did what any of you would do at the site... Laughed, and laughed, and laughed!

And that's not all. At the end of the bath Cutter started to stick his finger in his ear and whine. I know you are thinking ear infection, but that's not it. He gets globs of ear wax. So, he will sit there, still as can be, while Chad fishes the ear wax out of his ear canal. (Don't freak out - he doesn't go digging in there, just wipes it out of the opening with those baby Q-tips that cost 4 times as much as the regular ones because they are fat and weird shaped.) Cutter, curious boy that he is, wants to see the wax. Chad handed him the Q-tip. Cutter repeats, "Ewww, yuckey." He then proceeds to try to lick the Q-tip. Chad reacts quickly by knocking it out of his hand. Cutter screams.

It was a good night.

Fraud?

Let me start by saying I am pretty particular about the law. I try to be a good, law abiding citizen. Yes, I speed in my car and things like that, but in general, I keep things on the up and up.

Several months ago, I was at the pediatrician's office and I saw a little girl grab her mom's iPhone and squeal "Dora... Dora..." The mom, with exasperation, rolled her eyes and started an episode of Dora the Explorer on the iPhone. The child was mesmerized and watched, sitting down for several minutes.

That was genius. I thought I was a technology person, but I had not even considered letting my 18 month old play with my treasured iPhone. But after 30 minutes sitting in a waiting room, better judgement prevailed. I needed to get me some Dora.

I searched on iTunes. A season of Dora is $29.99. But he doesn't watch Dora. Why should I buy that? He watches Elmo, that's what I should get. So I purchase a season of Seasame Street for $19.99 and downloaded it and figured out how to put it on my phone for the next time I need it. So far, it has been a good investment.

But, and there is always a but, why should I pay iTunes when I have a BOATLOAD of DVDs that I OWN? My opinion is that I shouldn't...

So I consulted my friend who is to computers what my husband is to hunting/fishing. He told me about a software that "strips" the copyright off of DVDs so that you can rip them into iPhone format. He has used it for some time. So, I downloaded it. It has a 21 day trial period. In 21 days I should be able to rip a good many of them and save them for a rainy day... Besides, I did pay for the DVDs. I am not distributing them. Only "backing them up". Right?

With some maneuvering, I get it all to work and I rip a couple of Elmo DVDs to iPhone format. When Cutter starts to freak out, and beg for m'Elmo, I pull out the phone and let him watch. Target, Gringo's, the car... it never lasts long, but it does work.

This morning, I am working from home and thought, what a good time to do some more DVDs. My trial period expired so I need to purchase the software. I click the link, and go through a very typical internet shopping experience: create an account, uncheck the box for "send me stupid emails with more crap I don't want", check the box for "notify me when upgrades are available" give them shipping address, credit card number, credit card secret code, etc. I get to the final check out and the currency is in Euros, with a USD estimation. Hmm. That's weird. "COMPLETE THIS PURCHASE." Click.

Let's go. I have a day, people. Everything downloads and I start my thing. Turn to my laptop from work and the phone rings.

800 number. I'm not answering... But something tells me to answer.

Hello.
This is Chase Bank's Fraud Alert calling to verify your credit card account. Did you recently purchase software. Press 1 to confirm. Press 2 for more information.

Oh crap. I guess here is where I press 1... I did buy it. Buyer's remorse sets in. Press 2... More information, please...Yep. That's the place. Yep. That was the amount.

I had to confirm more than a month's activity - half an hour on the phone. It was all my stuff. What have I done? Am I on a special list now? Are they keeping track of people that by software from out of the country?

Can you say, paranoid? Maybe I should just pay iTunes... or buy stock in Apple...

Toilet Paper

Why is it that one of the most inexpensive items in your home is the cause of much angst... and jovial conversation?

Let me begin by talking about our cleaning lady. She is wonderful. I love her. She does a great job, always shows up when she is supposed to, picks up all of our "donations" (hand me downs, etc.) and takes a personal check if I forget to get her cash in advance. (She is legal, but probably evades the tax man. Hey - if i could, I would.) And I repeat. She is wonderful.

However, each week when she comes, there is always something that we can't find. I have always told the kids, don't leave it out and she won't have to put it up. Dishes are frequently in different places. Clothes may be put in the wrong closet. Stuff like that. Nothing big. You have to look at it like a game... security badge, security badge, if I were the cleaning lady, where would I put you?

This morning, I had gotten ready for work and packed all of Kenzie's bottles etc, for daycare. For the next 2 weeks, I am to take Kenzie to daycare in the morning, Chad will take Cutter, and then I will pick them both up in the evening. Chad is attending a training class held offsite, so we won't be carpooling. Chad had gotten up when I started packing the car. I wasn't paying much attention until I found him in the utility room poking around in the dark.

Me: "What are you doing?"

Chad: "Uh, looking for toilet paper."

Me: "Why?"

Chad: stupid look

Me: "There is plenty in the bathroom."

Chad: "No there's not."

Me: thinking in my head - well, if there weren't so many Cabela's catalogs...then I start laughing.

Me: "Did you look on the back of the toilet?"

Chad: "No, the spare rolls of TP should be in the basket. They were no where in the bathroom."

Me: "Did you look on the back of the toilet?" Laughing out loud this time

Chad: stupid look "Why would they be there?"

Me: Shrugged my shoulders. The Cleaning Lady moved them. Still laughing. I walked into the bathroom and showed him at least 2 mega rolls of toilet paper.

Chad: "Kiss my a**."

How is that men that STAND to pee facing the back of the toilet don't see what is there? Potpourri, room spray, and spare toilet paper. You would think, they, of anyone out there would notice. If it had been a snake it would have bitten him.