We have been extremely busy this week, but there hasn't been anything exciting going on. School and work for everyone.
Saturday morning I worked in the emergency room at the hospital - it was pretty boring - which was great for the nurses and doctor, but bad for us who wanted to see some action. Then after a few hours of sleep the kids and I went to tag butterflies. It wasn't as much fun as normal - it was just too crowded and there were a ton of rowdy kids there. Then I went to an agro-guard meeting. It wa pretty interesting....things I had never thought about in regard to terrorism and agro-theft.
Today I worked at the nursing home. It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be, but I am glad that it is over. I do not like nursing homes.
Hopefully tomorrow I can get the house cleaned and then Alexa and I are going to hang out.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
September 18
I wrote this for a CF fundraiser that a friend of mine in Australia was doing. Of course, we cut most of this out, as it is very long. Please do not feel that you have to read it. I figured now would be a good time to post it. Of course this is just a brief glimpse into Amber's life as a CF patient - it is hard to put all of the day to day into words. Even harder to put that last month into words. There isn't a day I don't think of Amber. She was the best daughter a mom could ever ask for.
Amber was just like any other high school girl. She loved shopping, boys, clothes, makeup, hanging out with her friends. Her concerns were mainly grades, getting a special boyfriend, preparing for college, and her job. She also was concerned about making sure no one looked at her differently, that no one pitied her, or worse, avoided her. You see, Amber had Cystic Fibrosis. That made her different from all of the other girls in her high school.
Amber had to have breathing treatments several times a day. She used a PEP valve once she got old enough. It vibrated the inside of her lungs to help her get the mucus out, because her body didn=t thin it enough to get it out on its own. The mucus threatened to scar and clog all of her bronchiole tubes, so it was a constant effort to keep it cleared out. When she wasn't strong enough to use a PEP, she had to have someone, usually mom, pound on her lungs to get the mucus out. She coughed a lot at school, but just told everyone she had allergies, which was true. The medicine for allergies is counterproductive to the medicine for CF, so it was a balancing act.
At home, taking medication was no big deal, but at school it was a completely different story. First, students aren't allowed to carry medication with them so she had to go to the office prior to lunch to take her meds. (That lasted about nine weeks before she just started carrying them and mom dealt with the principle) Second, it is hard to explain to everyone why you are carrying medication and taking it every day when you eat. But, she was able to explain it away. It was extremely important to her that no one knew.
Because Amber was a strong girl, and loved school, she went to school even when she was on I.V. antibiotics. Her veins had been used up by the time she entered high school and so she had a port-a-catheter in her chest. When she was sick enough for I.V. meds, her port was accessed and she got them that way. The bad thing about the port was it's placement. The doctor had placed it slightly above her right breast. This was at a time when she was at her heaviest weight, 105 lbs (47.7 kg). So the placement appeared to be good and well concealed. But then she lost weight and the port stuck out pretty far. She had to work hard sometimes at keeping it hidden, especially when it was accessed since then it had a needle, tubing, and bandages. But she did it...and she went to school as long as she was well enough.
During 10th grade, she had a sinus surgery, her gallbladder removed, a fundalplication (a portion of the stomach is wrapped around the esophagus to help control acid reflux). Her port-a-cath became infected with yeast and had to be removed. She was put on a medication that the doctors and nurses refer to as the Shake and Bake drug because it causes fevers and shaking. She was in the hospital for several weeks over her 16th birthday and once she was released, had to finish the school year at home because of the yeast infection.
Even with everything she went through, she was a fierce little fighter. She never gave up hope that she would be cured. She was planning on a career in nursing and wanted to adopt a baby with Downs Syndrome (having her own baby would have been incredibly risky to her health). Amber had five college credit hours when she completed the 11th grade. She had taken a Certified Nursing Assistant class so she could begin working in her chosen field. She could have graduated as a junior, but for the two required senior year classes. She was planning on taking all college classes her senior year, except for those two classes, and graduating midterm, with more credits than required.
Two days before Amber started her senior year of high school, she got very ill. Prior to that she was working at a video store, practicing cheerleading, and hanging out with her friends. That illness was her last. She had contracted C-Diff. C-Diff is basically harmless to those who don't have compromised immune systems, but for someone weakened by illness, or on long-term antibiotics it is quite serious. Very rarely fatal, unless you are like Amber and it causes your stomach to swell so much that your lungs are squashed. Amber went from having a lungs that worked in the 90% range, to lungs that functioned at 28%. Her infectious disease doctor was able to, finally, get the C-Diff under control, but her lung function never increased.
Unfortunately the damage had been done at that point. She was very weak and her lung capacity was down to 28% still. Her nurse practioner (Ericca - a most wonderful person), started pushing the CF doctor to get Amber started on the lung transplant process, but the CF doc stalled and wouldn't make the decision. Her regular pediatrician released her on September 6 against my better judgment. On September 8th, on our way to the pediatrician (Dee Spade, another wonderful person), because she wasn't doing well, her oxygen saturation rate dropped to 20%. She was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance and we were told she wouldn't make it through the night. She did, and started improving over the next two weeks. Her CF doctor finally started planning for the living donor lung transplant and I thought everything was going to be okay.
On September 17, she got ICU psychosis, and a couple of psychiatrists came in to talk with us, but we didn't realize that it meant anything. They never really expressed to us that ICU psychosis was a sign of impending death. They made it sound like it was just something people got sometimes in the ICU. She seemed fine, just occasionally didn't make sense. For a couple of days prior to that, her infection kept mutating. The infectious disease doctor kept changing her antibiotics and her care, but eventually he said there was nothing left to give her because it was mutating into strands that he didn't have antibiotics for. In the evening of the 17th she really started going downhill. She had a C-Pap (Continuous Positive Air Pressure - it forces oxygen into the lungs) on throughout her ICU stay, but she could take it off prior to that night. She had even gotten to where she only had to have it on when she was sleeping. But that night she got to where it was doing all of her breathing. Her kidneys started to shut down. At one point in the middle of the night she pulled her mask off and said, "mom". I leaned over and told her that it was okay she had fought hard and she didn't have to fight any more. I think that was what she needed to hear because after that she went into a sort of coma. The doctors said that her blood gases wouldn't allow her to wake up and that at that point she didn't know what was going on. (She had way more carbon dioxide in her blood than oxygen). Her pediatrician came in and told me that she wouldn't make it much longer. We could have intubated her, but apparently CF kids who are intubated never come off of it. I made the decision to pull the plug. I had the nurse drug her up with morphine. Even though the doctors said that she didn't know what was going on, I wanted her pain free. After that I took all of the monitors off of her because I didn't want to see or hear that flat line signal. Then I turned off the oxygen. She took a couple of breaths and then she was gone. It was the hardest thing to do, but there was no way I was going to have her stay alive for my own selfish reasons, it wasn't fair to her.
Amber had wondered what her funeral would be like. Her uncle had died a few years before and had a huge attendance. I would say that hers surpassed his. Her high school closed for the afternoon so that the teachers and students could attend. Her brother's teachers attended (he was in first grade). Kids from her previous school attended. All of her doctors attended, which is unheard of, as well as all of the nurses who took care of her in the hospital. I don't know how many people were at the church, but the people who ran the funeral home said it was one of the largest funerals they had ever witnessed. There were more than 200 at the grave site. Amber left an impression on everyone she touched. She was a sweet child, an angel on earth, and everyone loved her.
Cystic Fibrosis is a terrible disease and no child should have to suffer what Amber suffered. Although CF affects thousands of children yearly, very little is known about it. One doesn't hear the term unless they know someone affected, and then they have to search to find out about it. For a disease that affects so many, it is not popular. There are no televised fund raisers; no celebrities are out fighting for the cause; a portion of the proceeds of products doesn't go for research. It is an ignored disease and awareness needs to be raised. These kids need our help.
Amber was just like any other high school girl. She loved shopping, boys, clothes, makeup, hanging out with her friends. Her concerns were mainly grades, getting a special boyfriend, preparing for college, and her job. She also was concerned about making sure no one looked at her differently, that no one pitied her, or worse, avoided her. You see, Amber had Cystic Fibrosis. That made her different from all of the other girls in her high school.
Amber had to have breathing treatments several times a day. She used a PEP valve once she got old enough. It vibrated the inside of her lungs to help her get the mucus out, because her body didn=t thin it enough to get it out on its own. The mucus threatened to scar and clog all of her bronchiole tubes, so it was a constant effort to keep it cleared out. When she wasn't strong enough to use a PEP, she had to have someone, usually mom, pound on her lungs to get the mucus out. She coughed a lot at school, but just told everyone she had allergies, which was true. The medicine for allergies is counterproductive to the medicine for CF, so it was a balancing act.
At home, taking medication was no big deal, but at school it was a completely different story. First, students aren't allowed to carry medication with them so she had to go to the office prior to lunch to take her meds. (That lasted about nine weeks before she just started carrying them and mom dealt with the principle) Second, it is hard to explain to everyone why you are carrying medication and taking it every day when you eat. But, she was able to explain it away. It was extremely important to her that no one knew.
Because Amber was a strong girl, and loved school, she went to school even when she was on I.V. antibiotics. Her veins had been used up by the time she entered high school and so she had a port-a-catheter in her chest. When she was sick enough for I.V. meds, her port was accessed and she got them that way. The bad thing about the port was it's placement. The doctor had placed it slightly above her right breast. This was at a time when she was at her heaviest weight, 105 lbs (47.7 kg). So the placement appeared to be good and well concealed. But then she lost weight and the port stuck out pretty far. She had to work hard sometimes at keeping it hidden, especially when it was accessed since then it had a needle, tubing, and bandages. But she did it...and she went to school as long as she was well enough.
During 10th grade, she had a sinus surgery, her gallbladder removed, a fundalplication (a portion of the stomach is wrapped around the esophagus to help control acid reflux). Her port-a-cath became infected with yeast and had to be removed. She was put on a medication that the doctors and nurses refer to as the Shake and Bake drug because it causes fevers and shaking. She was in the hospital for several weeks over her 16th birthday and once she was released, had to finish the school year at home because of the yeast infection.
Even with everything she went through, she was a fierce little fighter. She never gave up hope that she would be cured. She was planning on a career in nursing and wanted to adopt a baby with Downs Syndrome (having her own baby would have been incredibly risky to her health). Amber had five college credit hours when she completed the 11th grade. She had taken a Certified Nursing Assistant class so she could begin working in her chosen field. She could have graduated as a junior, but for the two required senior year classes. She was planning on taking all college classes her senior year, except for those two classes, and graduating midterm, with more credits than required.
Two days before Amber started her senior year of high school, she got very ill. Prior to that she was working at a video store, practicing cheerleading, and hanging out with her friends. That illness was her last. She had contracted C-Diff. C-Diff is basically harmless to those who don't have compromised immune systems, but for someone weakened by illness, or on long-term antibiotics it is quite serious. Very rarely fatal, unless you are like Amber and it causes your stomach to swell so much that your lungs are squashed. Amber went from having a lungs that worked in the 90% range, to lungs that functioned at 28%. Her infectious disease doctor was able to, finally, get the C-Diff under control, but her lung function never increased.
Unfortunately the damage had been done at that point. She was very weak and her lung capacity was down to 28% still. Her nurse practioner (Ericca - a most wonderful person), started pushing the CF doctor to get Amber started on the lung transplant process, but the CF doc stalled and wouldn't make the decision. Her regular pediatrician released her on September 6 against my better judgment. On September 8th, on our way to the pediatrician (Dee Spade, another wonderful person), because she wasn't doing well, her oxygen saturation rate dropped to 20%. She was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance and we were told she wouldn't make it through the night. She did, and started improving over the next two weeks. Her CF doctor finally started planning for the living donor lung transplant and I thought everything was going to be okay.
On September 17, she got ICU psychosis, and a couple of psychiatrists came in to talk with us, but we didn't realize that it meant anything. They never really expressed to us that ICU psychosis was a sign of impending death. They made it sound like it was just something people got sometimes in the ICU. She seemed fine, just occasionally didn't make sense. For a couple of days prior to that, her infection kept mutating. The infectious disease doctor kept changing her antibiotics and her care, but eventually he said there was nothing left to give her because it was mutating into strands that he didn't have antibiotics for. In the evening of the 17th she really started going downhill. She had a C-Pap (Continuous Positive Air Pressure - it forces oxygen into the lungs) on throughout her ICU stay, but she could take it off prior to that night. She had even gotten to where she only had to have it on when she was sleeping. But that night she got to where it was doing all of her breathing. Her kidneys started to shut down. At one point in the middle of the night she pulled her mask off and said, "mom". I leaned over and told her that it was okay she had fought hard and she didn't have to fight any more. I think that was what she needed to hear because after that she went into a sort of coma. The doctors said that her blood gases wouldn't allow her to wake up and that at that point she didn't know what was going on. (She had way more carbon dioxide in her blood than oxygen). Her pediatrician came in and told me that she wouldn't make it much longer. We could have intubated her, but apparently CF kids who are intubated never come off of it. I made the decision to pull the plug. I had the nurse drug her up with morphine. Even though the doctors said that she didn't know what was going on, I wanted her pain free. After that I took all of the monitors off of her because I didn't want to see or hear that flat line signal. Then I turned off the oxygen. She took a couple of breaths and then she was gone. It was the hardest thing to do, but there was no way I was going to have her stay alive for my own selfish reasons, it wasn't fair to her.
Amber had wondered what her funeral would be like. Her uncle had died a few years before and had a huge attendance. I would say that hers surpassed his. Her high school closed for the afternoon so that the teachers and students could attend. Her brother's teachers attended (he was in first grade). Kids from her previous school attended. All of her doctors attended, which is unheard of, as well as all of the nurses who took care of her in the hospital. I don't know how many people were at the church, but the people who ran the funeral home said it was one of the largest funerals they had ever witnessed. There were more than 200 at the grave site. Amber left an impression on everyone she touched. She was a sweet child, an angel on earth, and everyone loved her.
Cystic Fibrosis is a terrible disease and no child should have to suffer what Amber suffered. Although CF affects thousands of children yearly, very little is known about it. One doesn't hear the term unless they know someone affected, and then they have to search to find out about it. For a disease that affects so many, it is not popular. There are no televised fund raisers; no celebrities are out fighting for the cause; a portion of the proceeds of products doesn't go for research. It is an ignored disease and awareness needs to be raised. These kids need our help.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Shark teeth no more
It seemed I had an "S" theme going with the titles so I had to continue. It was purely unintentional until today.
Poor Alexa has had shark teeth - that is what her loving father has called them. Her father who apparently wants her to have low self-esteem. Anyway, she has only lost one tooth the "normal" way...you know, where it gets loose and falls out. The others have been pulled. And all of them have been within the last 6 months. She's 9. The dentist even took a panoramic photo last October to make sure she had adult teeth.
No, I can never just give the facts without some background information first. So, anyway, two of her bottom adult teeth grew in quite some distance behind her baby teeth and she has had two rows of teeth. Thus the shark teeth comments from her father. She has been working very hard to get that last tooth out....it really wasn't even loose. Last night she busted the root and Mike was able to pull the rest of it out with some little pliers. It pulled the root out, too, and I bet that thing was almost a half an inch long. I took a picture of it, but it didn't show up very well. I will have to upload them.
So now, Alexa has a gaping hole in her gum where her tooth used to be and a tooth behind it. We are so sending an orthodontist on a lovely European Vacation.
Poor Alexa has had shark teeth - that is what her loving father has called them. Her father who apparently wants her to have low self-esteem. Anyway, she has only lost one tooth the "normal" way...you know, where it gets loose and falls out. The others have been pulled. And all of them have been within the last 6 months. She's 9. The dentist even took a panoramic photo last October to make sure she had adult teeth.
No, I can never just give the facts without some background information first. So, anyway, two of her bottom adult teeth grew in quite some distance behind her baby teeth and she has had two rows of teeth. Thus the shark teeth comments from her father. She has been working very hard to get that last tooth out....it really wasn't even loose. Last night she busted the root and Mike was able to pull the rest of it out with some little pliers. It pulled the root out, too, and I bet that thing was almost a half an inch long. I took a picture of it, but it didn't show up very well. I will have to upload them.
So now, Alexa has a gaping hole in her gum where her tooth used to be and a tooth behind it. We are so sending an orthodontist on a lovely European Vacation.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
September 6
So today is our 12 year anniversary and we went out to dinner which was nice. We don't get to do that very often - and less often without the kids. Mike kept joking about taking me to Taco Tico or Subway or something and of course I kept yelling no at him, but I guess actually it would have been okay (not really) because it is about the time together. And kind of like a last supper for him if he would have taken me to one of those places.
What's bad about today is 5 years ago we brought Amber home from the hospital for the last time. I knew it was a bad decision when the decision was made for her to leave the hospital. I was always the one asking the doctors if she could go home, but that day, I didn't think she was ready. On the other hand, I also feel if she hadn't gotten to come home, she might not have gotten to see her room that Mike painted for her. Mike never paints. Not before. Not since. He painted her room pink with black accents because that was what she was wanting and we wanted to surprise her. She was surprised. It was really sweet because it was the first time she called him "dad" to his face. She would do it jokingly or in a card or to her friends...but not to him. So, even though she probably should have stayed in the hospital, I'm glad she came home.
I remember we were excited because that was a bad hospital stay all around. With the C-Diff, and talks of a "poop transplant" (I am being serious); the blood transfusion; the extremely decreased lung function........it was just bad. So when she came home on our anniversary, even though I thought it was a bad idea, I was still excited. It was the best anniversary present.
Now every anniversary has that lingering in the background - or foreground as it is tonight. I think today it is made worse by the fact that this year all the dates are the same as they were 5 years ago. Five years ago the 6th was on a Saturday....the 18th was on a Thursday. Just like this year. I hate that. For some reason it seems to make it worse. So does the five years. It can't possibly be 5 years. How have I even lived this long without Amber here? It just doesn't seem possible. I never thought I would last 5 minutes. How in the world have I made it 5 years?
Sometimes I think Mike and I should get married again - but on a different date so we could have a different anniversary date. But, I know that it wouldn't change anything....and people would just think I am stranger than they already do.
What's bad about today is 5 years ago we brought Amber home from the hospital for the last time. I knew it was a bad decision when the decision was made for her to leave the hospital. I was always the one asking the doctors if she could go home, but that day, I didn't think she was ready. On the other hand, I also feel if she hadn't gotten to come home, she might not have gotten to see her room that Mike painted for her. Mike never paints. Not before. Not since. He painted her room pink with black accents because that was what she was wanting and we wanted to surprise her. She was surprised. It was really sweet because it was the first time she called him "dad" to his face. She would do it jokingly or in a card or to her friends...but not to him. So, even though she probably should have stayed in the hospital, I'm glad she came home.
I remember we were excited because that was a bad hospital stay all around. With the C-Diff, and talks of a "poop transplant" (I am being serious); the blood transfusion; the extremely decreased lung function........it was just bad. So when she came home on our anniversary, even though I thought it was a bad idea, I was still excited. It was the best anniversary present.
Now every anniversary has that lingering in the background - or foreground as it is tonight. I think today it is made worse by the fact that this year all the dates are the same as they were 5 years ago. Five years ago the 6th was on a Saturday....the 18th was on a Thursday. Just like this year. I hate that. For some reason it seems to make it worse. So does the five years. It can't possibly be 5 years. How have I even lived this long without Amber here? It just doesn't seem possible. I never thought I would last 5 minutes. How in the world have I made it 5 years?
Sometimes I think Mike and I should get married again - but on a different date so we could have a different anniversary date. But, I know that it wouldn't change anything....and people would just think I am stranger than they already do.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Short, Sweet and....Soapy
Okay, so this morning Andrew comes out of the bathroom with soap bubbles running down his chin.
Andrew: Alexa, did you put soap on my toothbrush, again?
Me: (thinking, again?)
Alexa: No. I only did it once.
Me: You put soap on your brother's toothbrush
Alexa: Only once
Andrew: gurgle
Me: Don't you know that the soap has antibacterial agents in it and can kill him? There have literally been children who have died because their parents have made them eat soap because they were naughty. And you put it on your brother's toothbrush? Are you trying to kill him?
Alexa: (all teary-eyed - like anyone is buying that) No. I just did it once as a joke.
Me: A joke? You think it's funny to kill your brother?
Andrew: (laughing and bubbling)
Alexa: I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I only did it once.
Holy cow! What is wrong with Mike's children? If it isn't one thing it is 50.
Andrew: Alexa, did you put soap on my toothbrush, again?
Me: (thinking, again?)
Alexa: No. I only did it once.
Me: You put soap on your brother's toothbrush
Alexa: Only once
Andrew: gurgle
Me: Don't you know that the soap has antibacterial agents in it and can kill him? There have literally been children who have died because their parents have made them eat soap because they were naughty. And you put it on your brother's toothbrush? Are you trying to kill him?
Alexa: (all teary-eyed - like anyone is buying that) No. I just did it once as a joke.
Me: A joke? You think it's funny to kill your brother?
Andrew: (laughing and bubbling)
Alexa: I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I only did it once.
Holy cow! What is wrong with Mike's children? If it isn't one thing it is 50.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Safety Scissors Only, Please
Okay - so last week I went to the doctor a week early for my Hep B shot, right? And the very understanding nurse, Alli, told me to leave and not come back until the 4th. She said it had to be a month and it had only been 3 weeks. Okay, so I had just miscounted, it happens, right? So, I went back today. I rush the kids around we run in to town. I walk in. The receptionist looks at me weird. I thought, well this is odd - one would think she would know me by now. So I proceed to tell her my name. She is like, yeah, I know your name, you're not on here. I said, right, I'm not on your list because I'm just getting shot. She said, no, you're not on my list because you're not supposed to be here until tomorrow. No, I'm supposed to be here today. No, you are supposed to be here on the 4th. Yes, that is tomorrow. No. Is it?
I swear, they must think I am an absoloute moron. I asked nicely if I could go ahead and get my shot. I think they did just so I wouldn't come back. Alli gave me very strict orders to make my appointment for my last shot for 5 months and to wait for the phone call telling me to come in the next day. Should I take it personally? She did say that she would come and visit me in the hospital. I'm sure that my involuntary hospitalization is imminent.
I don't know whether to blame the alien tick bite or kryptonite. It was after all, an alien tick and I am now a host and will soon have some alien tick baby bursting out of my abdomen at an inconvenient time.Or maybe it has morphed into my brain and is affecting my thinking skills. Which is probably what is going on because I am quite fortunate each day if I make it out of the house with all of my clothes on - in the correct order.
On the other hand - I think I have been kryptonited. Which I know isn't a word, but how do you turn kryptonite into a verb? This is what has happened to me. I have always - repeat always - been a Superwoman. At somepoint in the last week or two, I have been hit with kryptonite (pehaps the tick was infested with kryptonite?). And you know how kryptonite affected Superman, so just imagine how it affects Superwoman - because women are stronger than men. And we know the bigger/stronger they are the harder they fall. So, know I have been kryptonited. And I can no longer do it all. It is a sad day in my life. Perhaps once the alien tick baby explodes out of my brain or wherever, it will take the kryptonite with it and I will be back to normal.
Yesterday I had a bit of a break and threatened to make Mike support me forever if I didn't get some help around here. Apparently he had a long talk with the kids last night while I was at school. I guess "help around here" means the kids doing more work. I was kinda meaning him not sitting in front of his computer so much, but I guess my point was missed.
As far as school, this guy that took the EMT program last year assures me that once we get past patient assessment it is all easy. I threatened him with bodily damage and he still assured me it got easier, so we'll see.......
I swear, they must think I am an absoloute moron. I asked nicely if I could go ahead and get my shot. I think they did just so I wouldn't come back. Alli gave me very strict orders to make my appointment for my last shot for 5 months and to wait for the phone call telling me to come in the next day. Should I take it personally? She did say that she would come and visit me in the hospital. I'm sure that my involuntary hospitalization is imminent.
I don't know whether to blame the alien tick bite or kryptonite. It was after all, an alien tick and I am now a host and will soon have some alien tick baby bursting out of my abdomen at an inconvenient time.Or maybe it has morphed into my brain and is affecting my thinking skills. Which is probably what is going on because I am quite fortunate each day if I make it out of the house with all of my clothes on - in the correct order.
On the other hand - I think I have been kryptonited. Which I know isn't a word, but how do you turn kryptonite into a verb? This is what has happened to me. I have always - repeat always - been a Superwoman. At somepoint in the last week or two, I have been hit with kryptonite (pehaps the tick was infested with kryptonite?). And you know how kryptonite affected Superman, so just imagine how it affects Superwoman - because women are stronger than men. And we know the bigger/stronger they are the harder they fall. So, know I have been kryptonited. And I can no longer do it all. It is a sad day in my life. Perhaps once the alien tick baby explodes out of my brain or wherever, it will take the kryptonite with it and I will be back to normal.
Yesterday I had a bit of a break and threatened to make Mike support me forever if I didn't get some help around here. Apparently he had a long talk with the kids last night while I was at school. I guess "help around here" means the kids doing more work. I was kinda meaning him not sitting in front of his computer so much, but I guess my point was missed.
As far as school, this guy that took the EMT program last year assures me that once we get past patient assessment it is all easy. I threatened him with bodily damage and he still assured me it got easier, so we'll see.......
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