Monday, September 29, 2008

16 hours

This morning I found him in his room a bundle of messy blankets. He didn't look good, he was shaking, telling me he had a headache, that he really didn't feel good. I talked to him very briefly and then went to get him some meds, when I came back his doctor was in the room. She told him that he was just going to drink again, that she didn't need to make a referral for him or get him any contact numbers, that she figured he knew what to do if he really wanted help. Then she left the room, her attitude towards him and others like him obvious.

As the day went on I medicated him frequently as the protocol allowed to ease his withdrawal symptoms, he got a little demanding. He was calling often for little things. the doctor was back on the floor and asked how he was, I explained that he was driving me crazy calling so often. She said we just needed to get some labs at 2pm and after that he could go. I was stunned. We don't discharge people in the middle of detoxing them. Withdrawal can be dangerous, people have seizures. She said the he expressed no desire to go through recovery to her, but said it the doctor higher than her. She looked puzzled and said, you were there-he wasn't interested. All I could think was you never asked him! You told him he would fail and then walked out. I didn't say it out loud because I could see she really didn't get it, and me telling her she didn't get it wasn't going to help. She had dismissed this patient before she even met him.

By the afternoon he felt much better, the meds were in him the shakes were gone, he was thinking more clearly.

I was surprised to hear at about 9pm that he wanted to leave against medical advise, a little later I went in to talk to him to see if I could get him to stay. He wasn't a bad guy, he was a guy with a drinking problem.

While we talked I found out that he had been an alcholic his whole life, but that he had long periods of sobriety, 5 years here, 7 years there..all together more than 20. That his girlfriend had some problems and was getting discharged from a psych hospital. That she meant everything to him. When she was admitted he was stressed and thought well I'll just drink this week, it turned into a month and here he was. He wanted to not drink, because he wanted to be there for her, he didn't want to mess up her recovery. So he stopped drinking and dumped all the alcohol in the house, and he started withdrawing.

In the end he decided to leave, I explained he shouldn't be alone. He explained to me that he knew day 2 of withdrawal was the worst, and this had been day 2, he thought he would be ok.
he would have his mom call and check on him.

he left the hospital at about 10:30pm.
At about 1am he calls the floor, says he is shaking like a leaf, he needs help, can we help him. He sounds desperate and scared and a little child like. I know he doesn't have a ride and can't drive so I tell him to call an ambulance. He wants me to call for him, I can't do that. He wants to come back to our floor. We have no beds available, so I explain that any medical floor can take care of him, what is important is that he get here and get the meds in his system. He said ok.

I have no idea if he called and came back in.

I hope he did.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

this is 'scustin'

ok, this is a good one...

both boys are playing on the deck. On the deck there is also a cooler from the last party we had, the cooler has three cupholders molded into the plastic. I step outside to find my baby splashing his hand into a yellow liquid in one of the cupholders, Will is watching him. Just as I start to wonder, what is that yellow liquid, Will pipes up,

"Ben is playing in my pee"

ewwww,ew, ew, ew, "Will that is disgusting! We don't pee outside!"
As I pick up the baby and rush him to the nearest sink for a good scrubbing....

Sunday, September 14, 2008

a week so good i'm mentally fried.

It has been a very stressful, tiring and in retrospect good week.
This week, my 3 year old started preschool, my baby turned one and we had the usual huge party to throw, and my mom had surgery to rule out cancer.

In the end, my 3 year old loves preschool and the teachers think he is some kind of angel child, like I can see the love on their faces when they look at him. heh, yeah right! They don't know him like I do, and I'm just waiting for him to get comfortable enough to be fresh. Also thinking maybe he won't be fresh cause kids are always better for other people, and I must add a little relived that he may have actually heard half of what I say to him, and maybe absorbed some of it! He's not a demon with big brown eyes, blond curls, and dimples! Who knew?!

Ben's party was great, he got a few nice presents and people took the hint that he really didn't need anything at all. (my house looks like a toy store and I have more clothes from Will than Ben can even wear this winter) His actually birthday was the friday the 12th, and he appropriately enjoyed his ice cream cake.

And my mom doesn't have cancer! yeah, can't put in words how great that is....but if i ever meet the recovery nurse in a dark room I probably will have a few words for her...

so in the end it has been a very good week, but i'm working sat, sun and monday, and let me just say as i stand in a hallway and type this, that my heart is not in it, i'm just toast and want to be curled up on my couch reading or something. Luckily I have an easy quiet group.

I stumbled upon this in the blogs and it's just so funny i had to share even though it's a few weeks old.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

I found my camera!

I found my camera! Just in time to, cause tomorrow is Ben's 1st birthday party, and monday is Will's first day at school! I'm thinking I'm going to want pictures.

Generally when we have a party my husband and I stay up insanely late the night before getting things in order, fight a lot, and run around like idiots. Tonight though? yeah we are both lounging on the couch, I mean sunk back into the pillows feet on the coffee table lounging. We still have things to do, but the house really isn't that bad, and neither of us has had much sleep, so we begged my in-laws, and they will take the kids tomorrow early and keep 'em so we can just get stuff done without stopping 30 million times. As I type this my husband is falling asleep next to me. Like fell asleep with his arm up and is lowering it really slowly while he falls asleep.

Since I found my camera, I'd thought I'd share some ben stuff with you!

He crawls:

And today, he stands:

sorry it's sideways, I keep forgetting that when I'm taking a video, I need to pan out, not flip the camera like a picture.

ok that's it, time for mindless entertainment!

I'll post birthday pics soon, and school pics soon!

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

bitchfest guest post

So I get to b*tch on a different blog? How awesome is that- a whole new audience to
complain to!!

My husband.

Don't get me wrong, my husband is a great guy. He was my childhood crush as far back as I can remember. I was in love with him, he knew, and was NOT

Then when I turned 20, he took notice. We've been together since.

My husband expects me to be Supermom /Superwife.

He wants me to be what his mom was.

His mom went to college when he and his brother were in grade school, worked a full time job, managed to cook/bake, and keep the house spotless every

The problem with this: his mother died when he was 10. The pedestal that a person stands on when they die young is too high for any human to climb.

He expects me to be that way- and anything less is not great.

If you don't read my blog, I am a new mom to twin girls who are 9 months old.

My girls were born prematurely at 30 weeks weighing in at 3.4 and 3.10

I was hospital bedridden for 6 weeks before their delivery. On top of that, I battled
infertility. When the natural route wasn't working for us, we decided to go through IVF. We obviously means Me since I was the one who had to have daily injections, daily blood work, an egg retrieval, a transfer etc. All he had to do was go into a little room with a cup.

Now take into consideration that I work FULL TIME.

This means, I awake at 6am, play with the girls, leave for work at 7am and only return
at 6:40pm every night! I then bathe the girls, feed them and put them to bed (of course with my husband's help)

I am a machine.

I don't really have time to process all that I have been through this year. I try to be the best mom that I can be. So yes, I don't cook during the week, and my house isn't spotless. I do sometimes wait for the girls to go to bed because I don't have patience since I feel spent from the day.

But: I do bring home the bacon, I do provide the family with medical insurance and a
401k for us. I provide our life insurance. I do a lot. I take care of my husband, daughters and my boss.

I do it all for everyone, and yet he still finds reasons to complain. He says he envisioned a different type of mother for his children. I know he says this at times and doesn't realize what it does to me. He does acknowledge all of the good I do, but it's what I don't do that also
gets pointed out?

I sat him down last week and asked him: "With all that your mother did, do you think
she was happy?" He didn't know what to say. He said that she probably wasn't. And there came his revelation.

I hope he can accept that I am not perfect. Most of all, I hope I can accept