November Recap

It seems the slower I move these days, the faster things overwhelm me. Now the question is how to recap the last two and a half months without overloading.

Rain helping Mesa finish her breakfast

Mesa had her 18-month checkup on November 5th. Her stats are as follows:

Weight: 32 lbs (98th percentile)

Height: 34" (99th percentile)

Overall, Mesa is just Big 'N' Tall (in a good way)

They measured/weighed Rain while we were there because she didn't want to be left out. I thought it was interesting to note that Rain weighed 38lbs--only 6 lbs more than Mesa. Mesa is already wearing Rain's socks and most of her smaller-end clothes. I guess that's what sisters are for, right? Wardrobe swapping at such a tender age. Rain does have some height on Mesa, though, so lengthwise, swapping clothes is a challenge in the height department.

Mesa had one shot and didn't even cry. Her daddy should be proud. After we left the exam room, both my girls went to the candy drawer. How do they always know where that is? Apparently their candy-homing devices are as well-tuned as mine. =)

The following Monday, November 8th, I went in for surgery on my wrist. Super exciting stuff for anybody's To-Do list, lemme tell ya. After getting to the surgery center, and straightening out some needed changes, they prepped me for surgery. After stripping down to my socks and underwear, I donned a lovely hospital gown and laid on the bed. Immediately the nurse put in not one, but two IV's, one for each hand. YAY!!! --since I love needles and all.

Since I'm pregnant, they wanted to check the baby's vitals before and after surgery, so they had to call in a "special" nurse. And then I got to wait . . . and wait, and watch as patients were wheeled in and out for colonoscopies and prothetics. I was STARVING. I had been fasting since midnight the night before, except for the small glass of apple juice I had to beg for them to allow me to drink that morning at 6AM. And what show do they have on the TV in the patient prep room but a cooking channel. Cruel irony, I'd say.

Disclaimer: Don't read further if surgery stuff makes you squeamish.

After waiting for over an hour, they came to wheel me away, leaving Shane behind. Due to the pregnancy, they didn't want to do a general anesthesia, and nor did I. They started a local anesthesia and antibiotic. So in order to the local, they put a tournequet on my arm midway above my elbow. Not only do I detest needles and shots (which are technically quick and relatively painless--in and out), I abhor IV's where they stay in your flesh and twist and tweak with movement. I hate that feeling. I usually hold my hands still or move like a robot to avoid feeling the metal object impaled in my hands moving around. But in order to get the blood out of my left arm, one attendant had me make a fist with my left hand, and then he put his hand over my fist (and IV) and squeezed. Then they took one of those wide surgical stretchy bands and starting with my clenched fist, wrapped it around and around all the way up my arm, choking all the blood out of my arm. I started to get that lovely feeling where you've slept on your arm wrong and it's asleep, but you start getting those painful tingly jabs as it wakes up. However, I could still feel them messing around with my hand as they painted it with a beautiful orange iodine once the rubber band was removed. I kept wiggling my fingers to let them know that I could still feel and control my hand. I didn't want them getting too anxious about cutting before it was all the way numb. Unfortunately I couldn't see the surgey since they had a drape over the rest of me, as if I was having a C-section or something.

Then they started cutting. There were a couple interns there and I could hear them talking and observing the procedure. "Oh, wow, so is that bone?" Super consoling, believe me. My doctor was explaining this and that, which was interesting to me. I wish I could have seen what he was pointing at as he spoke. "See, here is where a cortisone shot should be given in the tendon. Now you can see where they missed the tendon by 1 millimeter and it caused all this fat atrophy here. They were close, but they still missed it."





The only angle I could get that the picture turned out clearly.



More straight-on, but blurry. Two pathetic stitches and some bruising. Boo!

The procedure is called a DeQuervain's Release where they slice along the tendon sheath, opening it up, allowing the inflamed tendon inside more room to move. They also ground off some bone spurs built up around that area. Then two stiches and I was done. I think the whole thing took 10 minutes or less. Feeling was starting to come back in my arm, but my control was still considerably MIA. As an assistant was bandaging me, I was trying to help by lifting my arm this way and that way as he wrapped it. Once, I tried to straighten my arm and it shot out uncontrollably. It's a good thing I didn't knock the assistant out. I think it would have really hurt my wrist. He laughed and told me to be careful because my arm was my enemy right now, and to not knock myself in the face with it.  They bandanged me up in a full-arm wrap and wheeled me away. After meeting up with Shane at the patient-receiving room, they gave me some juice and had me sign lots of paperwork with things such as "Don't operate a vehicle or machinery" and "Don't sign any legal papers". Little did I know that following lunch (because I was still starving) I would spend three hours on a car lot, trade in the ranch truck for a different one, and then drive the truck home from my parents after picking up the girls. So much for following doctor's orders.

After making arrangements for Shane to be home for a least a week to help me out, of the following five days, he spent three days in St. George, and one day looking for some cows that got out.

I couldn't wash dishes, change a diaper, tie my shoes, fasten my bra, fix my hair, or fold clothes, although I did manage to peel three potatoes with one hand, and drive my car (a stickshift) with one hand.

The first day home, I burned my good arm trying to take a casserole out of the oven one-handed, and within minutes, while I was running my arm  under cold water, the girls had each bloodied some part of their anatomy. The whole scenario was rather comical.

And it would only be fitting that Shane be gone during this whole ordeal AND when Rain was struck with a two-week string of diarrhea, which put a serious kink in potty-training progress and created an interesting situation where I had to clean up an accident which was all over Rain, the potty chair, her clothes, and the cream-colored carpet. Several times. One-handed. Perfect.

But life rolls on and I am getting more and more movement back and less pain. I believe they left part of a stitch in and so I am waiting for that to fester and come out.

Halloween recap: Rain was a princess

Rain was a princess

Mesa was "a cowgirl in her long-johns and boots" or in other words, Mom-didn't-have-a-costume-for-me-but-this-outfit-kept-me-warm.

You can also see our improvisation for halloween candy bags. They actually worked quite well.