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Showing posts from April, 2009

A dull moment. My kingdom for a dull moment.

There is never a dull moment around here.

You'll recall me blogging about Jed coughing up blood a couple of weeks ago. They changed his asthma inhaler and sent us on our way, and things seem to be fine so far.

Then one day last week Dr Roe phoned me to say, "Could you bring Jed back in. We are reviewing his chest xrays and there is an unclear area. It's probably nothing, but we want to be sure. Either go to his regular doctor or bring him back to ER. We would like it about 10 days from the initial visit, so either Sunday or Monday. I'll be in ER both evenings if he comes here."

I had no idea they revisit your xrays after you leave the hospital. I just assumed that since they are always so busy, you are in and you are out and they never think of you again. So there you are, Kore. (He was disappointed that we hadn't asked to keep Albert's xray showing the nail through his thumb.)

I thought it best to stick with the same doctor rather than trying to explain to J…

Are you still a "little kid" if you're over 50?

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When I blogged about age last night, I fully intended it to be about Matt's 50th birthday that we attended on the weekend. But once I start typing the story just sorta flows out and I don't really consciously control where it goes.

Anyway Matt is 50. I over heard one of the elder siblings say, "Man, it really makes you realize how old we're all getting when one of the 'little kids' turns 50."

There are really 3 or 4 'generations' within the Ziemer family. There are the 'older girls' (Judy, Lucy, Muriel, Darlene) then John and Jim who are sometimes included with the older ones. Then Val and Peter had their own grouping. And Matt headed up the 'younger kids,' who also included Albert, Tim, Bernie and baby Coralie.

To me age is just a number. It didn't bother me to turn 30 or 40, and I trust 50 will come without an emotional breakdown as well.

But sitting there listening to the siblings stand around the hymn book singing, I thought, &…

Pills, plastic and elastic.

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Old age just creeps up on you. You can't fight it. And really, often you don't even try to fight it because bizarre things just become acceptable to your aging mind.

Take for example elastic waist pants. Who, at 16, could have wildly imagined wearing them? At 44 I can hardly wait to get home from work and put them on. Truth be told, I even wear them to work some days. But only with a long top. But I fully anticipate the day will come when I will probably be tucking a button-up blouse into those same elastic waist pants.

And food. Remember snickering under your breath when someone made their food and drink choices on more than "it tastes good and I want it." Can't drink coffee in the evening. Spicy foods aggravate my stomach. You don't eat chips or chocolate cake for breakfast. Take the higher fiber option. Peanut butter causes heartburn. And every meal is followed by Tums.

And pills. When you are under thirty five the pill means only one thing. And before long y…

Small things amuse small minds.

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For some reason this struck me as hilarious. Here's a screen shot from facebook. There was an advertising banner for an IQ testing site. And because facebook knows everything about everyone, it included all my children in the promo. Apparently Jed is significantly more intelligent than the rest.


"Sleep" over.

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You really take your chances when you offer to have a sleep over with a child who is not quite seven weeks old.

We kept Xander overnight on Saturday and then I took him to church on Sunday. And while this is not something I will sign up for on a weekly basis, truthfully, the experience could not have gone any smoother.

We had a fun evening swinging, reading stories and having a bath. Xander was down for the count by 10:30 and I was awake for no more than 30 minutes at 2am to feed and change him.

Granny and PaPa's sleep was a little bit restless because Xander likes to snort and thrash around in his sleep. I'd lay there thinking, "Ok, now he's gonna squawk and I'm gonna have to get up." But he never did wake up until morning.

He woke up about 7:15 happier and more talkative than I have ever seen him. It was fun (as fun as 7 am can be)

He played and stayed awake until the 9 o'clock car ride to church where he fell asleep. And while I envisioned him singing loude…

Ouch!

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*******WARNING *************
Graphic images of flesh wounds.


"Do you wanna go to the ER?" my husband greeted me when I answered the phone this afternoon.

"What happened now!?!"

"I sorta drove a nail through my thumb with the air nailer."

And so began my second trip to ER this week.

A few days ago Jed was coughing up blood. Lots of blood. It had happened a couple of months ago and his doctor told him to come in if it happened again. Turns out the back of his nose is all raw and bleeding and as it drained down his throat, he was coughing it back up.

The doctor showed me his throat and although I'm not really into blood, it was quite interesting to watch the blood flow like a waterfall down the back of his throat and Jed couldn't even tell it was happening.

Dr Roe suspects it could be from his asthma inhaler and went on to explain the different types of puffers and what each does and changed him from an orange one to a blue non steroid one.

It only took 3 and…

They just don't get it. Yet.

We just got back from a last minute trip to Kamloops. It was short but it was nice to get away none-the-less.

Turns out that Dan and Tamara and Connie and Jordanna were there as well. I know we all live in the same town, but it seems we have to go away or have a family reunion to see anyone. So with all the siblings but Jen being there, it was a great opportunity for them to tease me mercilessly about my role as Granny.

I let them harass me about having 200 pictures of the five week old infant. (I don't know where the number 200 came from but I just left it at that, not daring to admit it's probably closer to 500) But hey, it's the digital age and it costs nothing to preserve your memories.

Apparently posting videos of your grandchild pooping his diaper is not particularly acceptable. But they just don't know cuz they don't have grandchildren yet. Besides, it gave them all something to talk about. And I will guarantee that every one of them has watched that video more…

Xander Coos and Xander Poos.

The cycle just keeps cycling.

Summer is by far my favourite season and winter my least. But I find that spring and fall evoke more emotions in me simply because of the anticipation they carry.

In this area of the world fall is definitely the shortest season, sometimes only lasting a couple of weeks. By the end of August the leaves start turning and rather than enjoy the boundless beauty God displays, I am instead filled with dread at the coming winter. If we get a couple of good wind storms the trees can be stripped naked by the middle of September. And then everything is just dull brown and grey laying in wait for it's white winter blanket. It depresses me.

And then winter comes. And I swear that every winter I have experienced as an adult is a record setting winter in one regard or another. Each year customers come into the store saying how this is "the coldest ever," "the most snow I remember," "the greenest," "the warmest," "the windiest" etc. This year ever…

Normally, I'm not all that normal.

The envelope please...

The results are in and after careful consideration by the MRI lab technicians my diagnosis is that I have two cysts on my ovary and a larger fibroid tumour in my uterus. They suspect none of them are cancerous. Yay me!

However they want me to get transvaginal ultra sounds every 6 weeks. I dunno if you've ever experienced one of those. It's kinda like inserting a 14 inch dildo equipped with a micro camera. It even wears a condom and KY jelly. While it's not the worst experience in the world, it's not exactly something I want to sign up for routinely.

I said to my doctor, "Can't you just take the whole mess out?"

"Well, that's not normal procedure." (Apparently they haven't figured out that I'm not normal.)

But he has agreed that it might be a good option for me and has forwarded my file on to a gynecologist for further consultation. Now I await a call from Dr. Galliford's office.

This is cutting into my "Xander Time".

Six months seems to have flown by and it's already time for another appointment with my oncologist. It dawned on me yesterday that I am supposed to be getting a diagnostic mammogram done before I see him. So I phoned to make an appointment. But of course it can't be so easy.

Because I need a diagnostic mammogram, not just a regular screening mammogram I need a doctor's requisition. Of course this cannot be faxed over with phone instructions. I must go into the office and have him hand me a physical piece of paper so that he can get his hundred bucks from the government.

I have an appointment next week with my doctor to get the results from my MRI but I know the last time I booked a mammogram it took quite a while to get in. And since I've known for six months that Dr Bishop's office will be calling in April for my return visit, I figured I'd better be ready, so I'd best not delay the appointment another week.

I squeezed in an appointment before work yesterday.…