One might be tempted to ask how we ever came to this idea that a dog would be a great addition to the family anyway (see Doggie Days IV). One would definitely be tempted if they were a bit OCD or just plain nuts. One would if they were me.
So, how did we ever come to this [now] apparently insane idea?
It was Lauren. One of her first words was "doggie" and everything was "doggie doggie doggie!"
I remember clearly thinking, "Hmm. Maybe having a dog would be really good for Lauren. She loves them. I bet a dog would be great for the kids..." and went from there. It grew to include images of the future and Lauren coming home having had a particularly trying day socially and having a non-judgmental, ever loyal companion waiting for her.
It's amazing how thoroughly we can deceive ourselves. It went from being an idea to being a really good idea to being what we absolutely HAD to do. Lauren was doggie obsessed ergo, we need to have a dog. And the research began, the web searches were done, book after book was read, applications filled, meetings had, and so on. The more invested we became, the more convinced we were it was the right thing for us.
I can't honestly remember saying, "I want a dog." It was, "I can handle a dog" or "I'm looking forward to having a dog so we can..." but never the simple, "I want a dog." or better yet, "I really want a dog."
Based on the above rationale, if we bought/found/adopted everything Lauren obsesses about, we would already have a horse and be well on our way to rescuing a monkey. I'm pretty sure I saw a horse in the "Give or donate" category on Kijiji...
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Vascular Hide and Seek... it's all the rage!
Today was the day... or so it was supposed to be... but then a lot of things aren't turning out like they're supposed to lately.
Lauren and I crept out of the house around 6:30am to arrive at McMaster well before 8am. This, of course, was to include a trip through the Starbuck's drive-thru which is thankfully open well before then.
I hated waking her. She hardly sleeps well as it is but we needed to go. She hadn't consumed anything since before midnight and wouldn't be able to eat until the growth hormone stimulus testing was done - theoretically four hours after it starts. I wanted to get to the clinic as early as possible in the hopes we'd be done, fed and home as early as possible.
Despite all good intentions, of which there have been a lot lately, it was not to go well. It could have been much worse but I certainly would've liked the testing to at least happen.
The first step in the GHST was to insert an IV. They would be taking blood every half hour for four hours plus the initial sample for baseline and giving her both fluids and a secondary stimulant at Hour 2.
I felt for the doctor and nurses. Lauren has only given blood samples a few times, and every time it's been a trial. Poking, prodding, howling, flailing... and that's just the staff! It did not bode well for us this morning. They gave Lauren's arms a thorough once over in search of the elusive vein capable of supporting an IV. They gave her right arm a good go but each time Lauren moved, the vein they thought they'd found slipped away under all that chub, never to be seen again.
The IV nurse had already been summoned for another little girl having the same testing so the crew with us decided one try for them was sufficient.
Surprisingly, the only time Lauren howled was when she had gas pains. Wouldn't you know it coincided with them poking her arm. Once the pain was settled, she settled and they were still poking.
When the IV nurse finally arrived, they gave the other girl a go first. I'd like to note that she howled like the world was ending the WHOLE TIME. I fully expected Lauren to be the same but she surprised me. So long as she could see what was going on, she was fully content to watch as they rubbed, slapped and tapped first the back of her right hand, then her left inner elbow and finally, as a last ditch attempt, the vein on the outside of her right foot. Not a peep and certainly not a single howl... except again when she had more gas pains. Twice they found veins only to have them disappear again.
Oh. I forgot to mention, by this time it's close to 10 am. We were supposed to start testing by 8 and we haven't established an IV yet...
After these three attempts and Lauren's veins not playing fair, we collectively called it quits. Calls were made and pages sent to summon the endocrinologist.
And we wait.
And wait.
Finally, given the outcome being the same no matter what, I pack up our stuff, give Lauren a sippy of rice milk and head out for home only to be stopped at the main floor elevators with a message that the endocrinologist was on her way to the clinic.
Meeting with her didn't change anything other than a reminder of who we actually were.
First step is to try again another day. At my suggestion, we'll try again in four months and see the endocrinologist in six. We need to see her in six regardless for our regular followup and if we can have a successful test in the meantime, all the better.
Scheduling has been left up to the clinic administrator and myself which is the best news I've had all day. If we run into the same problem in July, we can try again with Lauren sedated. Theoretically, the relaxed state should help the veins stay more open. Lauren didn't seem particularly uptight to me so perhaps it will make no difference at all...
Fingers crossed she'll either be a bit less chubby, more hydrated or her veins will be tired of hiding and want to be It.
In a nutshell, 5 hours round trip + $15 parking = completely wasted morning.
Lauren and I crept out of the house around 6:30am to arrive at McMaster well before 8am. This, of course, was to include a trip through the Starbuck's drive-thru which is thankfully open well before then.
I hated waking her. She hardly sleeps well as it is but we needed to go. She hadn't consumed anything since before midnight and wouldn't be able to eat until the growth hormone stimulus testing was done - theoretically four hours after it starts. I wanted to get to the clinic as early as possible in the hopes we'd be done, fed and home as early as possible.
Despite all good intentions, of which there have been a lot lately, it was not to go well. It could have been much worse but I certainly would've liked the testing to at least happen.
The first step in the GHST was to insert an IV. They would be taking blood every half hour for four hours plus the initial sample for baseline and giving her both fluids and a secondary stimulant at Hour 2.
I felt for the doctor and nurses. Lauren has only given blood samples a few times, and every time it's been a trial. Poking, prodding, howling, flailing... and that's just the staff! It did not bode well for us this morning. They gave Lauren's arms a thorough once over in search of the elusive vein capable of supporting an IV. They gave her right arm a good go but each time Lauren moved, the vein they thought they'd found slipped away under all that chub, never to be seen again.
The IV nurse had already been summoned for another little girl having the same testing so the crew with us decided one try for them was sufficient.
Surprisingly, the only time Lauren howled was when she had gas pains. Wouldn't you know it coincided with them poking her arm. Once the pain was settled, she settled and they were still poking.
When the IV nurse finally arrived, they gave the other girl a go first. I'd like to note that she howled like the world was ending the WHOLE TIME. I fully expected Lauren to be the same but she surprised me. So long as she could see what was going on, she was fully content to watch as they rubbed, slapped and tapped first the back of her right hand, then her left inner elbow and finally, as a last ditch attempt, the vein on the outside of her right foot. Not a peep and certainly not a single howl... except again when she had more gas pains. Twice they found veins only to have them disappear again.
Oh. I forgot to mention, by this time it's close to 10 am. We were supposed to start testing by 8 and we haven't established an IV yet...
After these three attempts and Lauren's veins not playing fair, we collectively called it quits. Calls were made and pages sent to summon the endocrinologist.
And we wait.
And wait.
Finally, given the outcome being the same no matter what, I pack up our stuff, give Lauren a sippy of rice milk and head out for home only to be stopped at the main floor elevators with a message that the endocrinologist was on her way to the clinic.
Meeting with her didn't change anything other than a reminder of who we actually were.
First step is to try again another day. At my suggestion, we'll try again in four months and see the endocrinologist in six. We need to see her in six regardless for our regular followup and if we can have a successful test in the meantime, all the better.
Scheduling has been left up to the clinic administrator and myself which is the best news I've had all day. If we run into the same problem in July, we can try again with Lauren sedated. Theoretically, the relaxed state should help the veins stay more open. Lauren didn't seem particularly uptight to me so perhaps it will make no difference at all...
Fingers crossed she'll either be a bit less chubby, more hydrated or her veins will be tired of hiding and want to be It.
In a nutshell, 5 hours round trip + $15 parking = completely wasted morning.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Family Updates
The activities of Miss Lauren over the last few weeks are included
in The Roman Garden:
First Official March Break Vacation
and Doggie Days IV - The Final Frontier
Things not included there: Lauren has returned to having extreme gas pains at night despite a dairy free diet.
We spend the day at Mac tomorrow for growth hormone stimulus testing to determine her current output.
I've been 'harassing' the GI team to get more attention to the problem. They at least slotted us in to next month instead of waiting til May...
in The Roman Garden:
First Official March Break Vacation
and Doggie Days IV - The Final Frontier
Things not included there: Lauren has returned to having extreme gas pains at night despite a dairy free diet.
We spend the day at Mac tomorrow for growth hormone stimulus testing to determine her current output.
I've been 'harassing' the GI team to get more attention to the problem. They at least slotted us in to next month instead of waiting til May...
Doggie Days IV - The Final Frontier
Though I guess in Star Trek land, that would be number five. I guess I could split this into "The Voyage Home" and then "The Final Frontier" but that just shows too much of my trekkie side.
The Reader's Digest Version
We decided we wanted a dog. We found a dog. She was exactly what we wanted and exactly what we expected. She was all Aussie and a sweet little thing - just the right size for Lauren and our house.
But I hated having a dog here. Loved it outside, liked playing, okay with the expected extra work.
Hated having this 'thing' in my space.
Cue melt down.
Three days later, dog, thankfully but regretfully, returned to the rescue organization.
Mind and emotions slooooowly returning to something resembling normal or at least their fragile pre-dog state.
Footnotes: It wouldn't have mattered what dog from what source at whatever age, nothing could have predicted how dark everything became for me. I feel horrible for all the effort everyone put into finding the match, making the journey work out, getting her to us... But it's best that she go back - that whatever dog we had go back - because she deserves the perfect home.
The Unabridged Version
We've been looking for the right Australian Shepherd since last August. We missed out on a few leading up to Christmas but finally found Cassie in February. Her foster mom and I spoke a number of times and Kevin and I decided Cassie was the Aussie we had been waiting for. She had been rescued out of Ohio and placed in care through ARPH which run by volunteers. They're all amazing and I had hopes of our home becoming a foster home once we were well grounded in Aussie mentality.
Cassie, complete with speckles and bright amber eyes.
I had visions of the kids and dog playing, of us running and riding together, of trips to parks and a dog sleeping in our room or on the kids' bed at night. Eventually there would be agility or flyball, stuff we could do, just the two of us. I envisioned having more time out and about on my own, without the kids but with Cassie. I knew there would be work - lots of work - and training - lots of training and even some costs - food, vet, travel, etc. But I never, ever, anticipated the introduction of a canine would be the darkest time I've ever been through.
This past Sunday my friend Sharilyn joined me on a road trip to Kingston. Miss Cassie was being fostered in Ottawa and the rep there made arrangements for us to meet three and a half hours away instead of six. We left at 6am with a stop at the 24 hour grocery store and Starbucks for fortifications. It's amazing how empty the 401 is that time of day, on a Sunday, at the end of March Break. Disconcerting even when you're going across the top of Toronto and suddenly find yourself the only car in the middle of 5 lanes. That was truly weird and a bit unsettling.
We arrived in Kingston just before 10 as arranged and had some time to meet another long time Aussie owner. Barb and her hubby were very generous and accommodating welcoming people they've never met into their home to pick up a dog they've never met. Meeting one of their dogs stopped me in my tracks. Wiley was HUGE! I though, "Oh crap! did I underestimate how big Cassie is? Uh oh. This is not going to be good." Thankfully when Cassie arrived, her 38 pounds was as I had envisioned. She was the smallest dog there and just perfect for Lauren to interact with.
After a brief stay, some walking and fussling, Sharilyn, Cassie and I headed home. It was a pretty uneventful voyage home with a few pee stops (for all three of us) and no whining, fussing or hurling (from any of us).
We arrived home around 3:30 to kids and hubby, waiting excitedly to meet Cassie. Everything went well. We went for a walk, did a tour of the property, had a romp and found a stick to chase. Everything was going just fine.
Until we brought her in the house.
It was like my soul had been invaded. I suddenly hated the entire idea in the "OMG, what have I done?" kind of way.
My anxiety level rose instantly and uncomfortably. It wasn't for any tangible reason like furniture chewing or hurting the kids but that somehow my space, my mental space, was no longer my own.
I thought that having a dog would brighten our lives, bring energy and excitement and instead I found myself in a place darker than an arctic circle mid-winter eclipse.
Two hours sleep for me that night would be a generous over estimation. It wasn`t Cassie`s fault. She whimpered in her crate but slept better than I did. Every whimper, every scratch of her claws on the crate or tinkle of her tags, made me cringe. I tossed and turned, fretted and worried, cried and felt helpless at trying to determine why or how I could possibly feel this way about a dog in our home.
Finally, around 4 am I declared to myself that she would have to go back. Every fibre of my being screamed that her staying was a mistake, that if she did, the only way I would survive would be on medication.
6:30 crawled around and I got out of bed to let Cassie out of her crate and outside to pee. We got Roman off to school and I took Cassie out for a run and a romp. She loved going out to the back lot and chasing her stick. Man was she FAST! This girl will do very well in FlyBall...
As soon as I could, I called our ARPH rep. She convinced me to give it time. That the things I was struggling with would pass with training and time. By the end of the call I was feeling better but as soon as we disconnected and I saw Little Miss, all I could think was "I want my house back."
We made it through the day but just barely. I spent the majority of it in tears. I did all that I could to make sure Cassie still had the attention, exercise and training she needed but it was tough. Kevin was amazing. We kept progressing with the hope that things would improve. They did with Cassie. She started to settle more, was very quick to learn not to go on the furniture, not to paw at us for attention and that Billie the Cat was not to be trifled with. Lauren was the best. "No Doggie. Stop!" she'd say with her little hand up in Cassie's face. "No Doggie! Down!" and Cassie would lie down...
Lauren - 31 " tall. Cassie - just right
All this was great but it didn't change my stress level. It didn't change this intrinsic need in me to escape. Monday was my turn to tuck Lauren in to bed. When she fell asleep, I didn't leave her room because I didn't want to be faced with this being in my home. I didn't want to have to give up what little I had left to yet another demand or give up what little peaceful time I have with Kevin worrying about whether she's having another accident in the basement because she wouldn't pee when we were out.
I was a prisoner in my own house. It was of my own making but still a prison. Or perhaps a padded room.
Kevin and I had a very frank conversation that night about what was going on. I wasn't sleeping, I couldn't eat, I certainly wasn't enjoying any aspect of having a dog and it was pushing me closer to the edge I was already visiting prior to her arrival. It was very revealing and generally unrelated to dogs at all.
It was decided that despite our intention to stick it out for a week, the things that were making it traumatic for me weren't going to go away. Struggling through the week would give the kids more time to get attached and make a return to ARPH harder for everyone. Our rep was amazing to make arrangements so quickly and Kevin returned Cassie to them on Wednesday morning.
I have huge regrets. I regret that we put everyone through SO much work to get her to us. I regret that we spent so much time and money to make it happen. I regret that it took actually having a dog here to find out I couldn't handle having a dog here. I regret not enjoying a moment of it. I regret missing three days of my children's lives because I was in the Pit of Despair.
But I do not regret having the experience as now it won't be repeated. I do not regret having my psyche turned inside out as I've learned what I've been suppressing and I do not regret the road trip with a most beautiful friend or the amazing people I've met along the way.
My younger sister, Hollie, was the first to put it in words that make sense to me. She said, "You don't have the psychological space for a dog. You have enough on your plate already but you needed to have a dog there to see it."
Cassie was beautiful. She was everything an Aussie should be right down to her obsession with wheels, her lightening speed and her ability to lie down in just the right spot to be half way between every member of the household. We were just not the right family for her. To fool myself into believing otherwise would have been harmful to her and to us.
The Reader's Digest Version
We decided we wanted a dog. We found a dog. She was exactly what we wanted and exactly what we expected. She was all Aussie and a sweet little thing - just the right size for Lauren and our house.
But I hated having a dog here. Loved it outside, liked playing, okay with the expected extra work.
Hated having this 'thing' in my space.
Cue melt down.
Three days later, dog, thankfully but regretfully, returned to the rescue organization.
Mind and emotions slooooowly returning to something resembling normal or at least their fragile pre-dog state.
Footnotes: It wouldn't have mattered what dog from what source at whatever age, nothing could have predicted how dark everything became for me. I feel horrible for all the effort everyone put into finding the match, making the journey work out, getting her to us... But it's best that she go back - that whatever dog we had go back - because she deserves the perfect home.
The Unabridged Version
We've been looking for the right Australian Shepherd since last August. We missed out on a few leading up to Christmas but finally found Cassie in February. Her foster mom and I spoke a number of times and Kevin and I decided Cassie was the Aussie we had been waiting for. She had been rescued out of Ohio and placed in care through ARPH which run by volunteers. They're all amazing and I had hopes of our home becoming a foster home once we were well grounded in Aussie mentality.
Cassie, complete with speckles and bright amber eyes.
I had visions of the kids and dog playing, of us running and riding together, of trips to parks and a dog sleeping in our room or on the kids' bed at night. Eventually there would be agility or flyball, stuff we could do, just the two of us. I envisioned having more time out and about on my own, without the kids but with Cassie. I knew there would be work - lots of work - and training - lots of training and even some costs - food, vet, travel, etc. But I never, ever, anticipated the introduction of a canine would be the darkest time I've ever been through.
This past Sunday my friend Sharilyn joined me on a road trip to Kingston. Miss Cassie was being fostered in Ottawa and the rep there made arrangements for us to meet three and a half hours away instead of six. We left at 6am with a stop at the 24 hour grocery store and Starbucks for fortifications. It's amazing how empty the 401 is that time of day, on a Sunday, at the end of March Break. Disconcerting even when you're going across the top of Toronto and suddenly find yourself the only car in the middle of 5 lanes. That was truly weird and a bit unsettling.
We arrived in Kingston just before 10 as arranged and had some time to meet another long time Aussie owner. Barb and her hubby were very generous and accommodating welcoming people they've never met into their home to pick up a dog they've never met. Meeting one of their dogs stopped me in my tracks. Wiley was HUGE! I though, "Oh crap! did I underestimate how big Cassie is? Uh oh. This is not going to be good." Thankfully when Cassie arrived, her 38 pounds was as I had envisioned. She was the smallest dog there and just perfect for Lauren to interact with.
After a brief stay, some walking and fussling, Sharilyn, Cassie and I headed home. It was a pretty uneventful voyage home with a few pee stops (for all three of us) and no whining, fussing or hurling (from any of us).
We arrived home around 3:30 to kids and hubby, waiting excitedly to meet Cassie. Everything went well. We went for a walk, did a tour of the property, had a romp and found a stick to chase. Everything was going just fine.
Until we brought her in the house.
It was like my soul had been invaded. I suddenly hated the entire idea in the "OMG, what have I done?" kind of way.
My anxiety level rose instantly and uncomfortably. It wasn't for any tangible reason like furniture chewing or hurting the kids but that somehow my space, my mental space, was no longer my own.
I thought that having a dog would brighten our lives, bring energy and excitement and instead I found myself in a place darker than an arctic circle mid-winter eclipse.
Two hours sleep for me that night would be a generous over estimation. It wasn`t Cassie`s fault. She whimpered in her crate but slept better than I did. Every whimper, every scratch of her claws on the crate or tinkle of her tags, made me cringe. I tossed and turned, fretted and worried, cried and felt helpless at trying to determine why or how I could possibly feel this way about a dog in our home.
Finally, around 4 am I declared to myself that she would have to go back. Every fibre of my being screamed that her staying was a mistake, that if she did, the only way I would survive would be on medication.
6:30 crawled around and I got out of bed to let Cassie out of her crate and outside to pee. We got Roman off to school and I took Cassie out for a run and a romp. She loved going out to the back lot and chasing her stick. Man was she FAST! This girl will do very well in FlyBall...
As soon as I could, I called our ARPH rep. She convinced me to give it time. That the things I was struggling with would pass with training and time. By the end of the call I was feeling better but as soon as we disconnected and I saw Little Miss, all I could think was "I want my house back."
We made it through the day but just barely. I spent the majority of it in tears. I did all that I could to make sure Cassie still had the attention, exercise and training she needed but it was tough. Kevin was amazing. We kept progressing with the hope that things would improve. They did with Cassie. She started to settle more, was very quick to learn not to go on the furniture, not to paw at us for attention and that Billie the Cat was not to be trifled with. Lauren was the best. "No Doggie. Stop!" she'd say with her little hand up in Cassie's face. "No Doggie! Down!" and Cassie would lie down...
Lauren - 31 " tall. Cassie - just right
All this was great but it didn't change my stress level. It didn't change this intrinsic need in me to escape. Monday was my turn to tuck Lauren in to bed. When she fell asleep, I didn't leave her room because I didn't want to be faced with this being in my home. I didn't want to have to give up what little I had left to yet another demand or give up what little peaceful time I have with Kevin worrying about whether she's having another accident in the basement because she wouldn't pee when we were out.
I was a prisoner in my own house. It was of my own making but still a prison. Or perhaps a padded room.
Kevin and I had a very frank conversation that night about what was going on. I wasn't sleeping, I couldn't eat, I certainly wasn't enjoying any aspect of having a dog and it was pushing me closer to the edge I was already visiting prior to her arrival. It was very revealing and generally unrelated to dogs at all.
It was decided that despite our intention to stick it out for a week, the things that were making it traumatic for me weren't going to go away. Struggling through the week would give the kids more time to get attached and make a return to ARPH harder for everyone. Our rep was amazing to make arrangements so quickly and Kevin returned Cassie to them on Wednesday morning.
I have huge regrets. I regret that we put everyone through SO much work to get her to us. I regret that we spent so much time and money to make it happen. I regret that it took actually having a dog here to find out I couldn't handle having a dog here. I regret not enjoying a moment of it. I regret missing three days of my children's lives because I was in the Pit of Despair.
But I do not regret having the experience as now it won't be repeated. I do not regret having my psyche turned inside out as I've learned what I've been suppressing and I do not regret the road trip with a most beautiful friend or the amazing people I've met along the way.
My younger sister, Hollie, was the first to put it in words that make sense to me. She said, "You don't have the psychological space for a dog. You have enough on your plate already but you needed to have a dog there to see it."
Cassie was beautiful. She was everything an Aussie should be right down to her obsession with wheels, her lightening speed and her ability to lie down in just the right spot to be half way between every member of the household. We were just not the right family for her. To fool myself into believing otherwise would have been harmful to her and to us.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
First Official March Break Vacation
Over March Break we took the kids to Deerhurst Resort for 4 nights. We had a time share suite which was nice since we could take our own food and not eat out for every meal.
No snow but the resort had a kid zone set up in one of the conference rooms complete with bouncy castle, floor hockey, mini putt, three wheeled scooters and little tykes climbers with slides.
Roman showed his blossoming independence riding a scooter all over, following carpet line "roads" paying no mind to other people or games in play. Lauren went up and down the slides over and over and even tried the mini trampolines "jump! jump! jump!"
Our two were two young for the pony rides but, in the tradition of child labour world wide, we could go and brush the horses. It was actually a great experience. Our kids love animals, and Lauren is currently quite horse-centric so even just watching them a while was enjoyable. We brushed some of the horses, pet the ponies and, while visiting some of the horses outside, everyone, including the horse, had a great laugh when an unexpected neigh from a particularly large stallion, right next to my head made me shriek and jump. The kids thought it was hilarious and the horse had quite a grin on his face.
That night we also tried dinner out at the resort restaurant. The service was great - they brought colouring for the kids and put their orders through while Kevin and I decided what we wanted. The daily pasta special was especially fine - linguini with duck breast and a demi-cream sauce with mushrooms and dried cranberries. O.M.G! Kevin felt the same way about the maple mousse he had for dessert. The kids of course finished quickly and Lauren ended up on my lap. She also decided my pasta was especially fine and helped herself to noodles, one at a time with sauce smeared all over her hands and face. She'd been up and gassy anyways so why deny her glorious food to avoid the hint of dairy she'd get?
We ran into friends we haven't seen since leaving Toronto. My friend Anna, who I grew up with, her husband and three kids were at the resort though for only one more night by the time we crossed paths. We had a "Door Knock Dinner" kind of lunch together at our suite and the kids all had a great time together what with our car load of toys and all.
If you ask Roman what his favourite thing about vacation was, he'll answer, "swimming!". He was amazing. The first time we went, surprisingly there wasn't any struggling or obstinance over wearing his life jacket. After at little time swimming while hanging on to one of us, he moved to a pool noodle and we were off. Lauren wasn't as content but by the end, she was kicking, splashing and smiling.
The second time trip to the pool, Roman decided half way through that he didn't want a pool noodle any more. Having left the pool with Lauren (it was chilly this time) she and I watched Roman chasing Kevin and having huge success building his confidence.
Another day we went on a maple sugar tour to learn how maple syrup is made. This was really the only disappointing portion of the trip for us. While it seemed to be marketed to families, and was quite expensive for the hour it was, the kids were bored silly. The information was way over their heads and there were no kid centric maple based activities. That reminds me, I need to email them with suggestions.. maybe next year it will be better.
While Lauren has returned to gassy sleepless nights regardless of being dairy free, the overall trip was a huge success. Limited squabbling, lots of quality family time, new experiences and a change of scenery. Four nights was enough (two of them were full of a howling little girl) but if we can get Lauren's insides figured out by next year (because surely we can figure something out in that much time??) we may stay longer. Even the full time share week. Maybe there will be snow next time too. Roman has already expressed an interest in skiing... "I'll have to take lessons" he says.
No snow but the resort had a kid zone set up in one of the conference rooms complete with bouncy castle, floor hockey, mini putt, three wheeled scooters and little tykes climbers with slides.
Roman showed his blossoming independence riding a scooter all over, following carpet line "roads" paying no mind to other people or games in play. Lauren went up and down the slides over and over and even tried the mini trampolines "jump! jump! jump!"
Our two were two young for the pony rides but, in the tradition of child labour world wide, we could go and brush the horses. It was actually a great experience. Our kids love animals, and Lauren is currently quite horse-centric so even just watching them a while was enjoyable. We brushed some of the horses, pet the ponies and, while visiting some of the horses outside, everyone, including the horse, had a great laugh when an unexpected neigh from a particularly large stallion, right next to my head made me shriek and jump. The kids thought it was hilarious and the horse had quite a grin on his face.
That night we also tried dinner out at the resort restaurant. The service was great - they brought colouring for the kids and put their orders through while Kevin and I decided what we wanted. The daily pasta special was especially fine - linguini with duck breast and a demi-cream sauce with mushrooms and dried cranberries. O.M.G! Kevin felt the same way about the maple mousse he had for dessert. The kids of course finished quickly and Lauren ended up on my lap. She also decided my pasta was especially fine and helped herself to noodles, one at a time with sauce smeared all over her hands and face. She'd been up and gassy anyways so why deny her glorious food to avoid the hint of dairy she'd get?
We ran into friends we haven't seen since leaving Toronto. My friend Anna, who I grew up with, her husband and three kids were at the resort though for only one more night by the time we crossed paths. We had a "Door Knock Dinner" kind of lunch together at our suite and the kids all had a great time together what with our car load of toys and all.
If you ask Roman what his favourite thing about vacation was, he'll answer, "swimming!". He was amazing. The first time we went, surprisingly there wasn't any struggling or obstinance over wearing his life jacket. After at little time swimming while hanging on to one of us, he moved to a pool noodle and we were off. Lauren wasn't as content but by the end, she was kicking, splashing and smiling.
The second time trip to the pool, Roman decided half way through that he didn't want a pool noodle any more. Having left the pool with Lauren (it was chilly this time) she and I watched Roman chasing Kevin and having huge success building his confidence.
Another day we went on a maple sugar tour to learn how maple syrup is made. This was really the only disappointing portion of the trip for us. While it seemed to be marketed to families, and was quite expensive for the hour it was, the kids were bored silly. The information was way over their heads and there were no kid centric maple based activities. That reminds me, I need to email them with suggestions.. maybe next year it will be better.
While Lauren has returned to gassy sleepless nights regardless of being dairy free, the overall trip was a huge success. Limited squabbling, lots of quality family time, new experiences and a change of scenery. Four nights was enough (two of them were full of a howling little girl) but if we can get Lauren's insides figured out by next year (because surely we can figure something out in that much time??) we may stay longer. Even the full time share week. Maybe there will be snow next time too. Roman has already expressed an interest in skiing... "I'll have to take lessons" he says.
Friday, March 12, 2010
So very still
Miss Lauren is amazing.
Yesterday we saw the endocrinologist. Lauren is officially 79.1 cm (31") and 11.7 kg (around 25lbs). She's still on the same growth curve so no concerns right now. We're rescheduling the growth hormone stimulus tests we postponed in January. At this point I'm leery of GHT with Lauren's particular version on Noonan Syndrome (RAF1) but doing the test will at least determine what her body is producing. The debate on our implementation of GHT can wait until we have the results and determine whether the costs will be covered or be out of pocket.
Today was Lauren's annual visit to the cardiologist. I have never EVER seen a child be so still. For the ECG, Lauren was on my lap as we leaned against the wall. She held one of my fingers in each hand and watched the ECG images. Not a twitch, not a whimper, not a peep of any kind. Next the doctor asked me to have Lauren lie down on the examination table with her legs on my lap so she could get a better image from under Lauren's rib cage.
Not a fuss from Lauren as I put her down. She calmly crossed her ankles on my lap and continued to watch. Not a wiggle while the doctor pushed gently her abdomen and chest with the ultrasound probe.
Seriously. No wiggling. Nothing. Just watching. Ankles cutely crossed.
Even for the EKG with all those electrode sticky patches on her chest AND when the doctor had to pull some off to reposition them. Not a complaint and barely a flinch.
Lauren is only 2 years old. I don't know adults that will be so still and quiet through 30+ minutes of poking, prodding and chilly gel on their chests.
It's a tiny thing but it makes me SO proud. My little girl is the best cardio-patient EVER!
Oh... and all is well. Her heart is still a bit thicker than it should be for a 2 year old but is consistent from her last exam a year ago so nothing to be concerned about for now and we stay on an annual check up schedule...
Yesterday we saw the endocrinologist. Lauren is officially 79.1 cm (31") and 11.7 kg (around 25lbs). She's still on the same growth curve so no concerns right now. We're rescheduling the growth hormone stimulus tests we postponed in January. At this point I'm leery of GHT with Lauren's particular version on Noonan Syndrome (RAF1) but doing the test will at least determine what her body is producing. The debate on our implementation of GHT can wait until we have the results and determine whether the costs will be covered or be out of pocket.
Today was Lauren's annual visit to the cardiologist. I have never EVER seen a child be so still. For the ECG, Lauren was on my lap as we leaned against the wall. She held one of my fingers in each hand and watched the ECG images. Not a twitch, not a whimper, not a peep of any kind. Next the doctor asked me to have Lauren lie down on the examination table with her legs on my lap so she could get a better image from under Lauren's rib cage.
Not a fuss from Lauren as I put her down. She calmly crossed her ankles on my lap and continued to watch. Not a wiggle while the doctor pushed gently her abdomen and chest with the ultrasound probe.
Seriously. No wiggling. Nothing. Just watching. Ankles cutely crossed.
Even for the EKG with all those electrode sticky patches on her chest AND when the doctor had to pull some off to reposition them. Not a complaint and barely a flinch.
Lauren is only 2 years old. I don't know adults that will be so still and quiet through 30+ minutes of poking, prodding and chilly gel on their chests.
It's a tiny thing but it makes me SO proud. My little girl is the best cardio-patient EVER!
Oh... and all is well. Her heart is still a bit thicker than it should be for a 2 year old but is consistent from her last exam a year ago so nothing to be concerned about for now and we stay on an annual check up schedule...
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Corn!
Garden planning time is creeping in. Hooray! The seeds are in stores and I know I need to pick up seed potatoes before I miss out again.
I asked Roman if he wanted to help me plan and what we should grow. He very quickly replied, "Corn! We should grow corn!"
We did agree last year that we would try some of our own this coming season. He's decided we should grow LOTS. In fact, he's fine if we grown nothing but corn.
The local market has AMAZING corn. They have a different variety ready every couple weeks during the season and for the past four years (and I know I'm jinxing myself here) it's been unbeatable.
That said, if Roman wants to grow corn, we will grow corn. He helps seed and sort of helps weed so it's all a good lesson for him.
Now I have to figure out the best place to plant it and still fit in everything else I want to grow!
I asked Roman if he wanted to help me plan and what we should grow. He very quickly replied, "Corn! We should grow corn!"
We did agree last year that we would try some of our own this coming season. He's decided we should grow LOTS. In fact, he's fine if we grown nothing but corn.
The local market has AMAZING corn. They have a different variety ready every couple weeks during the season and for the past four years (and I know I'm jinxing myself here) it's been unbeatable.
That said, if Roman wants to grow corn, we will grow corn. He helps seed and sort of helps weed so it's all a good lesson for him.
Now I have to figure out the best place to plant it and still fit in everything else I want to grow!
The wheels on the bike go round and round...
I'm having a bit of a sad day today.
Now it is a gorgeous day - sunny, warm, the snow is melting, the mud is pooling. We've already been to Walmart and back, had lunch and now Roman is happily playing in the tub while Lauren is picking a DVD to watch.
My sadness is born out of frustration.
Tricycles and bicycles aren't built for tiny little girls like mine. We picked up a bike/trike at a yard sale last summer hoping she'd grow into it. I expect most one year olds could master it. Yesterday we put her on the seat and she could just about touch the ground but couldn't push forward because the support wheels are in the way. She couldn't reach the pedals either and needs at least an inch in leg length to even start let alone be able to pedal AND turn. What I like about it though is that it looks like a bicycle though it acts like a tricycle.
In the end Lauren could only sit on the seat and watch as Roman rode his bike around and around...
What hit home is that the bicycle Roman currently has is the smallest we could find last spring. Lauren needs at least five more inches in leg length (not overall height.. she'll need more total height to get the five in leg length...) simply to be able to straddle the seat and still touch the ground. FIVE inches. At her current progress she'll be, oh... I don't know, NINE? before she can ride it? Hell, she'll be driving before she can ride a REAL bike.
Thankfully Lauren's Opa (my dad) is a genius at welding/rebuilding/fixing things so fingers crossed he can rework the bike to make it viable for Lauren... at least for a while. In the big picture, it's not really a big deal, just another reminder that the world is not designed for beautiful petite girls who idolize their big brothers.
Now it is a gorgeous day - sunny, warm, the snow is melting, the mud is pooling. We've already been to Walmart and back, had lunch and now Roman is happily playing in the tub while Lauren is picking a DVD to watch.
My sadness is born out of frustration.
Tricycles and bicycles aren't built for tiny little girls like mine. We picked up a bike/trike at a yard sale last summer hoping she'd grow into it. I expect most one year olds could master it. Yesterday we put her on the seat and she could just about touch the ground but couldn't push forward because the support wheels are in the way. She couldn't reach the pedals either and needs at least an inch in leg length to even start let alone be able to pedal AND turn. What I like about it though is that it looks like a bicycle though it acts like a tricycle.
In the end Lauren could only sit on the seat and watch as Roman rode his bike around and around...
What hit home is that the bicycle Roman currently has is the smallest we could find last spring. Lauren needs at least five more inches in leg length (not overall height.. she'll need more total height to get the five in leg length...) simply to be able to straddle the seat and still touch the ground. FIVE inches. At her current progress she'll be, oh... I don't know, NINE? before she can ride it? Hell, she'll be driving before she can ride a REAL bike.
Thankfully Lauren's Opa (my dad) is a genius at welding/rebuilding/fixing things so fingers crossed he can rework the bike to make it viable for Lauren... at least for a while. In the big picture, it's not really a big deal, just another reminder that the world is not designed for beautiful petite girls who idolize their big brothers.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Confessions of a road weary mom
It started with a trip to the ENT. Nothing dramatic to report except that I really like Denny Lin. I think we're about the same age and he treats me as a peer instead of a patient or patient's overprotective mother. We have conversations instead of consultations. It was nice. No real changes for Lauren. He supports Lynne the Audiologist's assessment that Lauren's hearing loss, if persistent, is not inner ear or sensory-neuro in nature. He also confirmed that if it is middle ear or a bone malformation of some sort, it's not something that can be dealt with surgically at her age, that hearing aids would be the best/only option.
He didn't say whether we should or not. I didn't think to ask. Add that to the list of calls for tomorrow.
We had enough time to get home, make calls to the GI office, the endocrinologist's office, and a neighbour then have a bit of lunch before running back out the door for appointment number two.
The ophthalmologist-surgeon we would see to have Lauren's droopy eye lid lifted. The office is in Toronto. The drive was... obnoxious. It was a moment where I was truly glad we'd spent 10 years living there. For those that know southwestern Ontario, here`s how it played out. It was supposed to be 401 to DVP south to Wynford. The 401 had 3 of 4 lanes blocked with an accident. The traffic was backed up to the 427. Thankfully I was already in a lane that would get me there. Okay. Great. I have 40 minutes to get where I need to be. Should be about 20, maybe 25 to get down to the Gardiner, across downtown, back up the DVP to Wynford. In all its infinite wisdom, MTO had 2 of 3 lanes of the Gardiner blocked for maintenance. Seriously?? was my cry. The resulting traffic backlog followed me all the way up to Eglinton... oh.. and as I got to Eglinton and looked ahead to the next exit sign, determine at the last possible moment that there isn't actually a Wynford exit when you're going north, only when you're going south. Off the highway I get thankfully not generating any honks of fury from other drivers. Deek through back streets and poof I'm there with thankfully 5 minutes to spare.
The appointment was 5 minutes long. 7 if you count walking into then out of the room.
And in that 5 minutes I was told many things I already knew, had my question go unheard, made to feel that my views of the world (and kids in it) is flawed and that I'm intolerant of my daughter's facial differences.
In his words, he's a conservative surgeon. Lauren's ptosis is very mild and looks worse at certain times of the day, certain activities but doesn't interfere with her vision. The only reasons to do the surgery, in his books, is because of vision impairment or because (again, his words) I don't like how she looks and as her ptosis is mild, it must be appearance. I clarified that while I am fine with how she looks, the world (my words now) is unfair and she will have enough challenges as it is without looking more different. Kids are mean. His response is that kids are very accepting of things they are used to and if Lauren give good answers for why her eye lid is droopy it won't even be noticed.
Okay. So I don't know where you get your classmates but in my world, they're cruel turds. They'll pick on any body for anything.
He did however go through what the process would be (it's a day surgery, general anesthetic, tightening up the weak muscle underneath, antibiotics, drops and a check up in 7 days) and advised that as it's an elective surgery, there's a 15 - 18 month waiting list. There are some minor challenges of making sure the lift is just right - not too much, not too little - but otherwise it's all very straight forward and even the post operative pain is minimal. As well, he reassured me that if we chose to do the surgery that they'd be there to do it and that we could always go on the wait list and not do it if we change our mind later.
Quick note: if we wait til she's older, it's a local anesthetic and more precise...
My feelings about all if it have changed in the hours since. When Lauren and I were playing fetch in the medical building foyer (I wasn't going to load her straight back into the car right away. I'm not that cruel!) I felt frustrated we'd wasted so much time driving and been made to feel like I'm a horrible mother for even considering 'changing' my daughter. I felt discouraged that when I'm truly honest with myself, I don't like the answers.
But they are the answers: I really do wish her right eye didn't have that droopy lid. I wish I didn't "see it" nearly every time I look at her beautiful face - especially in the pictures that will form our memories for the future. I wish it wasn't a constant visible reminder of her condition ever present, some days worse, some days better. It's horrible but it's how I feel and I'm not going to fight it. I think if her eyes were symmetrical it would help but they're not. That's not our reality.
I know there are worse things. I know there are people reading this who might cringe and wag their fingers but this is the world we live in.
When Kevin and I discussed it tonight he said that she will have enough things for kids to pick on with out something to add to the pile. Her height, her ears, probably her temper and maybe her areas of learning difficulty. Kids will find something to tease about just about everyone. For me it was because I was Lisa's little sister. Then it was because I was tall and skinny with no shape at all. Lauren is destined to be "Little Lauren" or a million other names kids can come up with. We're not willing to add fuel to the fire.
I know it's the right decision. I don't want to regret not doing anything. I do regret that the wait is so long. In 18 months she'll be much more aware of the difference. She'll be more questioning of our reasoning. I hope we handle it well.
In the meantime, I'm going to change my perspective. We give our kids braces so their teeth are straight. Why not adjust something else so it's straight too? Oh.. right.. there's something else Lauren will probably need...
He didn't say whether we should or not. I didn't think to ask. Add that to the list of calls for tomorrow.
We had enough time to get home, make calls to the GI office, the endocrinologist's office, and a neighbour then have a bit of lunch before running back out the door for appointment number two.
The ophthalmologist-surgeon we would see to have Lauren's droopy eye lid lifted. The office is in Toronto. The drive was... obnoxious. It was a moment where I was truly glad we'd spent 10 years living there. For those that know southwestern Ontario, here`s how it played out. It was supposed to be 401 to DVP south to Wynford. The 401 had 3 of 4 lanes blocked with an accident. The traffic was backed up to the 427. Thankfully I was already in a lane that would get me there. Okay. Great. I have 40 minutes to get where I need to be. Should be about 20, maybe 25 to get down to the Gardiner, across downtown, back up the DVP to Wynford. In all its infinite wisdom, MTO had 2 of 3 lanes of the Gardiner blocked for maintenance. Seriously?? was my cry. The resulting traffic backlog followed me all the way up to Eglinton... oh.. and as I got to Eglinton and looked ahead to the next exit sign, determine at the last possible moment that there isn't actually a Wynford exit when you're going north, only when you're going south. Off the highway I get thankfully not generating any honks of fury from other drivers. Deek through back streets and poof I'm there with thankfully 5 minutes to spare.
The appointment was 5 minutes long. 7 if you count walking into then out of the room.
And in that 5 minutes I was told many things I already knew, had my question go unheard, made to feel that my views of the world (and kids in it) is flawed and that I'm intolerant of my daughter's facial differences.
In his words, he's a conservative surgeon. Lauren's ptosis is very mild and looks worse at certain times of the day, certain activities but doesn't interfere with her vision. The only reasons to do the surgery, in his books, is because of vision impairment or because (again, his words) I don't like how she looks and as her ptosis is mild, it must be appearance. I clarified that while I am fine with how she looks, the world (my words now) is unfair and she will have enough challenges as it is without looking more different. Kids are mean. His response is that kids are very accepting of things they are used to and if Lauren give good answers for why her eye lid is droopy it won't even be noticed.
Okay. So I don't know where you get your classmates but in my world, they're cruel turds. They'll pick on any body for anything.
He did however go through what the process would be (it's a day surgery, general anesthetic, tightening up the weak muscle underneath, antibiotics, drops and a check up in 7 days) and advised that as it's an elective surgery, there's a 15 - 18 month waiting list. There are some minor challenges of making sure the lift is just right - not too much, not too little - but otherwise it's all very straight forward and even the post operative pain is minimal. As well, he reassured me that if we chose to do the surgery that they'd be there to do it and that we could always go on the wait list and not do it if we change our mind later.
Quick note: if we wait til she's older, it's a local anesthetic and more precise...
My feelings about all if it have changed in the hours since. When Lauren and I were playing fetch in the medical building foyer (I wasn't going to load her straight back into the car right away. I'm not that cruel!) I felt frustrated we'd wasted so much time driving and been made to feel like I'm a horrible mother for even considering 'changing' my daughter. I felt discouraged that when I'm truly honest with myself, I don't like the answers.
But they are the answers: I really do wish her right eye didn't have that droopy lid. I wish I didn't "see it" nearly every time I look at her beautiful face - especially in the pictures that will form our memories for the future. I wish it wasn't a constant visible reminder of her condition ever present, some days worse, some days better. It's horrible but it's how I feel and I'm not going to fight it. I think if her eyes were symmetrical it would help but they're not. That's not our reality.
I know there are worse things. I know there are people reading this who might cringe and wag their fingers but this is the world we live in.
When Kevin and I discussed it tonight he said that she will have enough things for kids to pick on with out something to add to the pile. Her height, her ears, probably her temper and maybe her areas of learning difficulty. Kids will find something to tease about just about everyone. For me it was because I was Lisa's little sister. Then it was because I was tall and skinny with no shape at all. Lauren is destined to be "Little Lauren" or a million other names kids can come up with. We're not willing to add fuel to the fire.
I know it's the right decision. I don't want to regret not doing anything. I do regret that the wait is so long. In 18 months she'll be much more aware of the difference. She'll be more questioning of our reasoning. I hope we handle it well.
In the meantime, I'm going to change my perspective. We give our kids braces so their teeth are straight. Why not adjust something else so it's straight too? Oh.. right.. there's something else Lauren will probably need...
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