What if . . .

I cannot express the awe I feel as I look at my daughter. I think that is normal for any mom, but for some reason, I feel it heightened this time around. I am amazed by her beauty, by the happiness she shares with us, by each normal milestone she achieves.

I had an appointment with my OB today. I thanked him again for his participation in Emmy's birth and he looked at me. A shadow crossed his face. "Thank you," he said. "I wish it could always be that happy." Then breaking the moment of understanding between us, he pasted on a smile and said, "But luckily, it's happy more often than not."

Is it wrong to be happy when surrounded by such saddness? Is it wrong to be sad when surrounded by such joy? Perhaps I will contemplate these questions another night. For now, I will enjoy smelling my baby as I rock her to sleep.

Fresh Air

I gently rotated her chubby fingers as I examined her hand.
"Were you brave when they put in the IV?" I asked
"No, I wath not bwave. I cwied. But then it wath done, and then I wath bwave . . . can I see my pictuwe of the coin I ate?"

Thank goodness for healthy children.

In Memory

It is a funny thing working in a children's hospital. There are a lot of ups as you see children get better, develop tender relationships and feel that you are becoming 'their doctor.' There are also a lot of downs as you see children get worse, get cussed out by families and realize how much you still don't know.

And then there are the days that you cry. You cry for the kids and you cry for the families that are left behind. But in the end you get through it because, hey, these are "sick" kids, and "sick" kids are inherently different from healthy kids. They have to be. If you saw your own daughter or nephew in every kid that came in, you wouldn't be able to get through the day.

But then comes a moment when tragedy strikes, and it isn't a "sick" kid. It is one of your own clan. The daughter of a doctor or son of a nurse. Someone that you know. Someone like you.

And suddenly the hospital falls silent. And I cry again, but this time it is not for the family or the child, although I hurt for them deeply. This time it is for myself.

You see, I make my children wear their seatbelts and eat their vegetables. I am neurotic about helmets, make sure they get all their vaccines and only leave them with people that I trust explicitly. But in the end, it may not matter. Because God or life or whatever you want to call that Great Other "happens." And all it leaves you with is a great void. And there is nothing that I can do about it.

So in memory of someone who was loved very much, please give a child, healthy or sick, a special hug tonight. Not out of fear, but out of gratitude simply that you can.

Happy 1/2 Birthday Isaac

Tomorrow is Isaac's 1/2 birthday. Since he has a summer birthday, we are sending in treats for him at school. Before going to the store, Aukai sent him upstairs to pow-wow with me about what he should bring. I suggested "scooby snacks" and he replied, "Well, my friend's mom stayed up all night making cupcakes."

You have got to be kidding me!

To his credit, he was very understanding when I explained that I am sick and wouldn't want to get his friends sick, so there would be no cupcake making for our family. Way to have a good attitude Isaac! We settled on scooby snacks and gogurts strapped together with silly bands.

Happy half-birthday kid. We love you.

Intern Blues

What do you get when you combine nursing with intern year?

Apparently, it's shingles and strep throat . . . at the same time! The irony is that of the many common communicable diseases and rashes, Strep is the only one that I don't remember being exposed to recently. And you don't "catch" shingles.

12 hours on antibiotics and my T is still 100.5 on tylenol. (101 is a "true" fever.) Oh well. At least my tonsils are somewhat recognizable. :)

Grampa Moose

Isaac: Mom, did you know Grampa Moose?
Me: No, who's Grampa Moose?
Isaac: Well, maybe you aren't the right age?
Me: Right Age? Is Grampa Moose something from school?
Isaac: No, Grampa MOOSE. Cassandra told us about him.
Me: Who's Grampa Moose?
Isaac: He died because people smoked around him.*
Me: Oh. You mean Great Grampa GOATES.
Isaac: Yeah. Well, Moose/Goat, they both have horns.

*GG Goates died with cancer in his lungs. We don't know whether it was lung cancer or cancer that spread to the lung, but popular theory is that he got lung cancer because he was constantly surrounded by cigar smoke at work.

Panic

Two nights ago, I heard the emergency alarm go off. Accompanied by 5 nurses, I ran to the room of one of my favorite patients, a teenage boy who has been here for weeks for neurorehab. There he sat on his bed, not looking a bit distressed.
We ask what he needed, and he used broken words to tell us he couldn't get the video player to work. I laughed and suggested that next time he press the nurse call button. He said he did, but nobody came. So he pressed the emergency alarm.

Now THAT is a true emergency. :)