Melancholy

Me and melancholy...we're old friends. In fact, we're so close that he decided to stop by for a visit this week. It had been a while, so I let him in.

Here's the strange thing. Usually this feeling hits me at the end of summer. I'm not sure what it is about that time of year, but it always happens. Maybe it's the end of long days and the end of the freedom to walk outside in bare feet. As soon as I see that first red leaf fall from our tree, I know it's over and the mourning sets in. I mentally start preparing myself for the short days, the bundling up we need to do to go outside, and the claustrophobia that sometimes sets in from being stuck inside. Yep, at that first sign of summer coming to an end I try to soak it all up. I want to spend every moment outside. Playing. Eating. Watching all the activity in my neighborhood. I start to miss it all before it's even gone.

So why am I feeling this way when summer hasn't even started? The tulips haven't even opened and most of the trees are still bare, yet I feel this way. Maybe it's because I know how quickly time passes. I hate to use a cliche (but I'm just so good at it!), but it does pass in the blink of an eye.

There's such an ease to our summer "schedule," and I use that word hesitantly as there really isn't a schedule as much as there's some routine. School lets out and Duncan is free to stay up late and watch movies with Patrick. Yes, I still have to get up early for work and get Griffin off to day care, but when I leave I can put everything behind me. I go home and play outside with Griffin. We mess around in the garden. We go for walks.

Every year I vow to not only make the most of the summer, but to be mindful of it, to hold onto it and soak it up. Unfortunately, I always seem to come to this conclusion at the end of summer, when there's not much left to hold onto.

Not this year. This year is going to be different.

This morning, when Griffin woke up, I went into his room. He smiled at me, and then he looked at his windows and said, "Mommy, the sun is up!" It was if he was seeing it for the first time. If only I could bottle that innocence and enthusiasm. I can't quite do that, but I can see life through his eyes a little more often, and that's what I hope to do this time around.

I know Mr. Melancholy will still make his annual visit at the end of summer. That's never going to change, but I don't think I'll regret letting time slip by too fast.

Bacterial what?

I haven't been avoiding writing about Griffin's appointment in Iowa City. It's just that on the morning of the appointment, he tried his hand at irony and woke up with a cold and a cough. What can I say, he's quite advanced for his age...

So yeah, he had a horrible cold...and then the coughing started...and then a horribly infected ear. Any free time I had (which is usually zero), was spent administering ear drops, antibiotics, and breathing treatments. This makes 16 ear infections and 17 bronchial infections. But who's counting?  I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

The appointment went well considering how long we waited - and I'm not complaining. I was thrilled we were able to get an appointment so quickly. It's just that an hour in the waiting area plus an hour in the exam room plus an almost 90 minute appointment meant that Griffin was at the end of his rope by the time we were leaving.

The doctor was wonderful (and incredibly patient). He asked us questions about the patterns of Griffin's infections. How do we know he's getting sick? What does it sound like when he coughs? When do we know he needs to see a doctor? I told the doctor that sometimes Griffin "whistled" when I picked him up or when he stood really close to me. Then there are the "rattles" in his chest and vibrations that I feel in his back when he sits on my lap. I told the doctor that Griffin has had one official cold in his life - when he was three months old. Every other sniffle/cough/sneeze has ended up in his lungs. Fast. He can go from an occasional cough to a deep, violent, turn-his-face-red cough in just a few hours.

We were told we've got two different issues to deal with: 1) asthma and 2) bacterial endobronchitis. The asthma diagnosis came as no surprise as he's been treated for asthma symptoms since he was four months old. It's just official now. As for the second diagnosis, I had never heard of this before and I'm sure the doctor could see my face twist in confusion and concern. Honestly? I still don't know a whole bunch about it, but I can explain it like this: Griffin always has bacteria in his system and it settles in his airways waiting for any little sign of infection. When he does get a cold, that bacteria kicks into overdrive and he goes from sorta-sick to we-need-to-take-him-to-the-ER sick.

The doctor started him on preventative antibiotics three times a week for the next three to four months, which is when we are scheduled to go back to the hospital.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask. Will he ever outgrow this? What are the long-term implications of this? Is there any chance he's damaged his lungs from all these infections? Is it too late to do anything about that? Of course I thought about all of this on our way home. I'm still absorbing everything and trying to learn more about this {FYI - don't Google "bacterial endobronchitis" - it'll only freak you out like it did me}. I plan to call the doctor later this week and ask all of my questions.

So despite an official diagnosis, the world is feeling a little more topsy-turvy than I expected. I don't like topsy-turvy. I like calmness. I also like a healthy, smiling Griffin. I hope this new treatment works and we get him back. We've sure missed him.

The big time

I started writing again. Before anyone gets excited about that, let me clarify. Last night, I sat down with my laptop and wrote about 100 words. But it felt good. I miss having that creative outlet in my life, because right now, I need an outlet.

Next Thursday we're taking Griffin to the University of Iowa Children's Hospital for an appointment with a pediatric pulmonologist. In all honesty, we should have done this months ago. Maybe even years ago? And yes, I know he is only two-and-a-half, but this kid's lungs have been giving him trouble since he was only four months old. We waited because everyone told us that it's because he's in day care, and under three years old, and that the winter months are tough on little ones. It made sense. But then he got pneumonia just before his first birthday. And then just six short months later, he developed double pneumonia. In between those months were bouts of bronchitis. In fact, by the time he was 18 months old, he'd battled bronchitis about 12 times.

At that time, Griffin was prescribed daily breathing treatments and "rescue" treatments as needed. When he got really bad, he was on oral steroids, too. I don't think Griffin knows life without the whirring sound of his nebulizer.

It has been a rough winter for him with illnesses - ears (four infections in four months even after tubes surgery), bronchitis, colds, fevers, etc. Then came early February and we found ourselves rushing to the ER again with a listless little boy with a cough and a fever of almost 106. Diagnosis: Pneumonia. Again. That made three times in 18 months. And if that wasn't enough, he developed an ear infection just one week later, and then another bout of bronchitis just one week after that. That was it. We'd had enough and Griffin definitely had enough. We brought up the idea of seeing a specialist, but we were told that they most likely wouldn't do anything different from his current treatment plan. We mentioned it to Griffin's allergist, but she sort of said the same thing. Were we overreacting?

Last week Griffin developed strep throat. A week later he developed a cold/cough/bronchial infection. And now? Another ear infection. I did some research and found out that our current health insurance does not require us to have a referral to see a specialist. I picked up the phone and called the Children's Hospital. Our appointment is set for April 7th and I have never been so excited to see a doctor. Maybe, after additional testing, we will find out that this is how Griffin is and we should stay on the same treatment plan. But maybe we can get some answers, or even tweak his meds just a bit so they're more effective.

Griffin hasn't been healthy for more than two weeks in a row since early October. I miss happy Griffin. I miss his smiles and silly questions. He doesn't smile so much anymore and that makes me so unbelievably sad. I'm not expecting a miracle from this appointment. It could turn out that there is nothing more we can do. A little peace of mind would be nice, though. Peace of mind and a big 'ol smile from my Griffin.

The smile that I miss

(September 2010)

Treading water

It has been one month since I last posted on my blog. To be honest, it's not that I haven't had time. I haven't had much to say. What's the point of reading this if all you're going to see is a series of complaints? Yes, lately my life has been stressful and frustrating. Whose life isn't? We all experience ups and downs in life. I'm no different. I took a long break during my most recent down. Not a real break, but just a break from my blog. It was one more stress I didn't need. Instead, I took that time to focus on just surviving. Getting by. Taking care of the basics in my life.

There is a lot of pressure to do it all - work a full-time job, take care of your family, stay on top of bills, etc. Then there's that little matter of actually taking care of yourself. What? You mean it's okay to take time to take a walk (alone)? To read a book (not one with pictures)? To browse the aisles at Target (and not have to explain to a two-year-old why you won't be visiting the toy department)? So that's what I've been doing lately. Reading. Enjoying the weather - taking walks, getting ready for our garden, sitting on our porch doing nothing else. You know what? It feels good.

My boss and I had a serious conversation this time last year. It was the first time I told her, or anyone outside of my family, that Patrick was unemployed and we were struggling. After telling her how the whole situation had been weighing on me, and how the stress of keeping everything (and everyone) together was overwhelming, she said to me, "Sometimes all we can do is tread water." In other words, all you need to do to survive is stay afloat. No fancy moves, just keep your head above water. That's exactly what I've been doing this past month. The pressure is still there. I feel it all the time, but the difference is that I can weigh what is truly important. Sometimes the laundry sits longer than I would like. Other times, I don't cook and we have sandwiches for dinner. Writing has fallen down my list of priorities. Instead, I choose to sit in my living room with Griffin, watching him squeal as I blow bubbles.

There is comfort in letting go of the pressure - letting go of the excess. I'm not trying to keep up with anyone else. I'm just trying to do what I need to do to get by. I'm treading water, and that's okay.

Sometimes good enough is all we can do. And when you think about it, what's wrong with that?

Derailed



The past few months have been trying. Exhausting. Frustrating. And I swear, I don't want to complain, but seriously people, I'm ready to throw in the towel.

I knew going into parenthood that times would be challenging. I don't think anyone who intends to become a parent goes into it thinking life with a new baby is going to be like the inside of the Pottery Barn Kids catalogue. Because if it was, I would have signed up years ago. No, I went into this knowing there would be sleep deprivation and illnesses and even the trying toddler phase. Anyone who knows me knows how ill Griffin has been since October (not even counting everything he's had since birth). I'm not even going to list the illnesses because 1) there are too many and 2) I don't want to relive any of those moments.

OK, so kids get sick. I know that. They are constantly sticking their hands in their mouths and they have yet to master the whole cough-into-your-elbow thing. It's going to happen. But so often? And so severely at times? Griffin got tubes put into his ears in July. He did well for a few months, but then BAM. He's had four infections since mid-November. Four. One of which lasted three weeks.

Exactly how bad is it? Our pharmacist knows me by sight. And when Patrick picks up Griffin's medication, she tells him, "Tell Tracy I said hi." No joke. This has happened more than once.

A number of months ago, I spoke with my doctor about the stress in my life - some of it out of my control and other stress that I allow to take over. It turns out that I wasn't taking care of myself very well. Not so much physically, but emotionally. I was doing for everyone else, but not for myself. I wasn't reading or writing. I was eating junky foods and not exercising. I wasn't laughing. When I left her office I came up with a game plan. I joined Weight Watchers and began eating better and losing weight. I started going back to the library once a week by myself and slowly browsed the shelves. I started writing again and completed another NaNoWriMo. I even managed to get back into crocheting - this time I started making something for myself.

And then Griffin got sick. And got sick again. And again. I was forced to miss work. My anxiety level skyrocketed. I missed two Weight Watcher meetings in a row (one because I was in the hospital with Griffin and the next because he passed his illness onto me). I've been reading the same chapter of a book for the last month. That sweater I was making for myself? Still not done. I don't even want to bring up the novel I'm trying to finish.

Is some of this out of my hands? Yes. I wasn't going to leave my son in the hospital with a fever of 106 so I could go to Weight Watchers. I slept when I could (and believe me, I tried to sleep), but Griffin's coughing fits kept me awake. So yes, there were things I could not control. However, I am very aware that I could have done something to counteract the stress and anxiety. Sleep deprivation and a bad case of bronchitis didn't have to keep me from making poor dietary choices (OK, maybe that one Friday when I couldn't get out of bed, but all the other days I could have done better).

The bottom line is that I've been derailed...and maybe I derailed myself a bit. I'm going to go back to Weight Watchers tonight knowing full well that I've probably gained something fierce. It's a starting over point. A getting back on track point. Not just with Weight Watchers, but with being good to myself again. Reading. Writing. Planning our garden for the coming Spring. And laughing. I've really missed laughing. I can't wait to do that again.