Dear Pooka,: March 2012

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Here are some portraits of Danny in the ED at midnight (on Tuesday)...

We're home now. He had a MD appointment this morning which went well.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Hospitalized... Most words sound cool with "ized" at the end, but not so much this one.

Here we continue to sit in the hospital. We have watched "that white dog" movie (Bolt) twice. I think Danny has watched more TV in the last two days than he has in his whole life. I'm hoping I've lost a few pounds for lack of delicious food. Danny's not hungry anyway so it doesn't matter to him.
It is day three of Danny's hospital stay for asthma, I expected he'd be home by now but the doctors just came in and felt that he needs to stay at least until this evening, probably one more night because he continues to wheeze after breathing treatments. He is going to start a twice daily controller inhaler as well as albuterol every four hours and oral steroids. I am going to start researching what I can do with his diet as well, I've heard talk about how going wheat and dairy free can be helpful for asthma.
James is here hanging out with me, so I have entertainment. I also learned how to make I cords, so that's cool. Danny is in good spirits and you wouldn't be able to tell he's sick just by looking at him, except that he won't eat anything. I'm going to make a trip to Plum Market to get some goodies once Chris gets here.
Some more things I've learned:
1.) It's been so long since I've had anything to drink out of styrofoam that I can actually notice the taste of it in my tea.
2.) Bring your own tea to the hospital. And mug.
3.) I'm reminded of how portable infants are. James doesn't care that he's sleeping in the stroller bassinet.
4.) However, he seems to like a change of scenery every so often.
5.) Hospital beds are good for climbing.
6.) Helicopter pads are good for watching.
7.) Hospital food is not good for eating, but I guess I already knew that.
8.) It's a stupid question to ask the resident, "Are you going to be here later?" Duh. Of course they are. Poor saps.
9.) Nurses are good. And I'm glad I'm not a nurse anymore.

Comforts:
1.) See number 2 above.
2.) This new lip balm from Annri called "Unicorn Farts", it's delish.
3.) Trader Joe's tea tree shampoo
4.) Bag of Legos
5.) Slipper socks
6.) Wool shirts
7.) Internet
8.) Voicemails
9.) My mom

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

We park at the school and when the car doors open, the three big boys scatter. It is the end of the day and it's a struggle to hold the boys in my heart when we need to be somewhere on time, my body is tired, Chris is on nights, I'm carrying James and he's heavy. Sometimes in situations like this, I can be revived by eye contact, a smile, a question that reminds me of their innocence. But at this point, they've all scattered. Matthew is already rolling down the hill.

"Boys, we need to stick together." That doesn't work. I should have "Called a meeting." That sometimes works because it sounds interesting and a little dramatic.
"Come back. BOYS. Borger boys. Stop running." They return, although distracted by that hill and that set of stairs with the fast railing and that bike rack perfect for balancing on.
"Guys, please don't run away as soon as you get out of the car. We need to stick together. What if one of us could use some help. Stick close by and make sure that everyone is okay. Take care of each other..."
When my words of wisdom stop... No one says anything, or even acknowledges that I've been speaking... they just scatter again. Back to the hill, Danny follows and everything he rolls over is now stuck to his wool sweater and he looks like a ridiculous hobo. And I am his hobo Mom who hasn't showered in three days, yelling while tying to free James from his car seat straps.

"Okay guys, come on let's go together. Okay, stop running." I get an idea: "Come sit on this bench with me a moment so we can talk. Get over here NOW and sit on this bench." SMACK. Matthew trips as he's running toward the bench and hits his chin on the edge.
I say "God damn it." He tries to be brave. The wound swells, but doesn't need stitches. I wish I hadn't gotten angry and said, "This is exactly what I was talking about! Stop being so wild!" because he really wasn't. In fact, rolling down a hill is probably safer than running towards a bench. And it's a normal thing for a four year old boy to do when he sees a hill.

Blechk.

I desperately establish the rule that they need to ask if it's a good time for running before they start. I'm uncomfortable with this new rule even as I establish it. It seems pretty lame and oppressive. I need to come up with something else. More lectures? Establish expectations before the van comes to a complete stop maybe?

When we leave the school I say, NOW you can run. It sucks to tell three young boys on the first warm day in months, so warm that they don't even have to wear coats, that they can or can't run and be wild. Of course that's exactly what they should be doing.

Tomorrow is coming. And that means I have a chance to make it better than today.