Remember the mother of nine that inspired me to run during pregnancy? Guess what she does when she's done running in her third trimester? She does spinning classes. I have not followed in her stead. I know about the awesome cardio workout you can get from riding your bike, but that's not what this post is about. Life can be hard, and it is easy to focus on the negative in a situation. There are moments, days or, yes, in this case, even weeks that are full of despairing thoughts to fight. With God's help, you can spin your thoughts in a positive dirrection. That's the kind of spinning I'm talking about.
I thought about naming this post "When It Rains, It Pours" because the last week and a half have felt a lot like one big storm in motherhood. Mr. Blue Eyes has brought in a new tooth during all this hoopla, evening out his adorable six-tooth grin. He had his first ear infection three weeks ago and started coughing just a few days after getting off antibiotics. His follow-up appointment for his ears (at the two week post-antibiotic mark) brought a few suprises. After five kids, I've never had a practioner tell me my baby's lungs sound congested. They've always assured me that it sounds bad, but it's really just an upper respiratory issue. That wasn't the case this time. What started as a routine appointment quickly escalated to deep suctioning (not the endo-trachial kind--they stopped at his mouth) and a nebulizer treatment. Just for the record, I will not be consenting to another session of deep suctioning unless my child was really, really ill (like on the brink of hospitalization). At the beginning of the nebulizer treatment, the nurse told me to "get ready for the screaming". Confused as to why, I asked if it hurt to which she replied, "No, they just don't like it." Very reassuring. Very. During the screaming session, another nurse came in to inform me that he needed a chest x-ray. She wanted know where I wanted the order sent to. The heat in body raised at least two degrees at this point, and I felt my body transform into a big hairy mama bear. I worked as an x-ray tech for over seven years, and I know a thing or two about x-rays (and children...and the increased risks of cancer later in life when they have an x-ray under the age of seven). I refused the exam, which they wanted to perform to see whether or not he had pneumonia. He had no fever. He was eating and acting normally. He only had a cough. I didn't think his situation required that much intervention. I was so shaken by the time we left that I called my old pediatrician's office for a second opinion (of course, my shakiness may have been induced from all the Albuterol I inhaled while holding the mask onto my son's screaming face). The office validated my concerns; and the next day, I discussed them with the nurse manager (after making sure it wouldn't be an issue to return the nebulizer they sold me...the second-hand one I had from my sister-in-law ended up working just fine). I've worked with enough doctors to know that there is a wide variety of acceptable treatments for the same issue. Some physicians are aggressive, while others are more conservative. Which one do I favor? I favor the one with enough experience to know what is called for. My old pediatrician had lots of experience to back his approach. This new practitioner was less experienced and too aggressive for me.
This was just the tip of the iceberg with our fun...the thunderstorm was a brewin'. Mr. Blue Eyes threw up on me the next morning, which meant an impromptu shower. Half-pint, our nine year old, had such severe back pain that she couldn't get her jacket on to do chores without crying. Our schedule for the day quickly filled up. We saw a chiropractor in the morning (for Half-pint) that was 40 minutes north of us. Then, we traveled 40 minutes south for the baby's appointment with a different pediatrician at the same practice. Mr. Blue Eyes wasn't any worse at his appointment; so I was told we only needed to come back IF he ran a fever or was having problems breathing. That night he threw up again and started running a fever. Ugh! We went back again for antibiotics because they diagnosed him with pneumonia, due to the fever (and how it started...all without needing a chest x-ray, the bear gave her seal of approval on that one). We only needed to return if the fever didn't go away in two more days. He continued to toss his cookies once each night AND run a fever for three more days (yes, that meant another doctor's visit). His sister Carrie went sledding on day two of antibiotics and ran into a fence. She saw stars, got dizzy and had blurry vision. After getting the baby down for his nap, I held Carrie; and she complained that her head hurt. The next thing I knew, I was wearing her granola bar. She threw up all over me, herself, the couch, and a misplaced comforter. (That prompted my second shower of the day...I felt really tired last week, but squeaky clean.) After a phone conversation with the doctor's office, we found out we didn't have to race to the emergency room unless she threw up again; but I would need to sleep in the same room as her for two days to observe her. Nothing says "Happy Holidays" like sleeping in a double bed between a thrashing three-year-old and five-year-old. Fortunately, I was too tired from all the late night fiasco's (i.e. "puke clean-up") to care.
Then, Mr. Blue Eyes began to get diarrhea from the antibiotics, which caused a huge diaper rash. I switched to cotton balls with water for cleaning him (along with some air-drying and lots of diaper rash cream) The following day, I found myself in the doctor's office getting peed on by our son while trying to "fan the fannie". (This was office visit #4, due to his extended fever.) The doctor walked in on me cleaning the floor and let out an empathic groan when she saw my wet jeans. It was a little cold on the drive home. After that I made sure to use a diaper as a pee deflector, when I let him stand and air dry. On the way to the doctor's office, I also added a crease to the side of the van. Chalk it all up to some fishtailin' on a snow-covered road and less than expert driving. It wasn't my best day, and it ended with a bang...literally. I bought some peppermint stick ice cream, which goes perfectly with coffee. However, when I went to make the second round of hot water for my French press, I turned the wrong burner on our stove...one occupied by. 9 x 13 pyrex container. Miraculously, my hubby saw the Pyrex pan heating up and turned off the burner, just before it exploded. I believe it was God appointed that he saw it at the moment he did. Three of our children were on the floor in front of the stove. His body must've blocked the shards of glass because no one had so much as a scratch on them although there were pieces of glass everywhere.
Did we survive this all? Yes. Do we have some funny (and not so funny) memories from it? Of course. Through it all, I kept thinking, "This could be worse. You could be at the hospital. You could have five children sick, instead of one or two. You could've totalled the van. Someone could've gotten cut (or worse, blinded) from that glass." The day our appointment at the doctor's office got out of hand, a friend I deeply admire (Jill Savage) was undergoing a lumpectomy after a diagnosis of breast cancer just a few weeks beforehand. As the reminders chimed on my phone, reminding me to offer up a prayer for her, I thought ,"Thank God, I'm not dealing with this." I wasn't alone in any of this either storm either. My hubby raced home to help transport little Miss Concussion if needed and rearranged his schedule to help me. My mom was helping me this past week too. My sister-in-law helped with my kids during doctor appointments and errand running. My small group instantly offered prayers when I messaged them about the drama concerning the concussion and my crazy office visits. Most of all, God was there with me each step of the way with wisdom, comfort and strength to get through this. All you have to do is cry out to Him, and then intentionally dwell on His blessings.
Despite all the showers of negative things that happened in the last week and a half (that prompted one very used bathroom), there were even more things to be thankful for. It's easy to take our health and safety for granted until we see how easily it could all change. This holiday season has helped me spend time thanking God for all we do have, even as Gracie has now succumbed to a sickness and is running a fever. She is the only sick one right now, and I'm so thankful that no vomit is involved. My mom remained healthy through her visit and kept our house from being overrun by the dust bunnies.
Psalm 34:1-9 holds my thoughts to dwell on right now. It is how I will spin my wheels. It says," I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul shall make its boast in the Lord; the humble shall hear of it and be glad. Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together. I sought the Lord, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. They looked to Him and were radiant, and their faces were not ashamed. This poor man cried out, and the Lord heard him, And saved him out of all his troubles. The angel[a] of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him, and delivers them. Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who trusts in Him! Oh, fear the Lord, you His saints! There is no want to those who fear Him."
On Christmas day, our cat, Sierra, came home after not seeing her for eleven days. I never thought I'd see her again. My hubby deep fried a turkey for Christmas, and apparently her hatred for the kittens wasn't deep enough to dissuade her from checking for some scraps. She was found sniffing the cooling peanut oil. We took turns loving on her, and she relished the new cat digs my hubby had set up (complete with a heating lamp, fuzzy cat bed, and heated water bowl). She is even allowing one of the kittens on the bed with her after a few days of hissing at them. Maybe she's been listening to me when I've said, "It could be worse. You could be sharing your bed with a dog." It's all in how you spin it.
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