My plan for this weekend has me all torn up inside. Recently, as you may know from my previous blog, I have been pretty stressed out with the kids, specifically L. I do ok during the week and then the weekend comes along and I find myself yelling, seething, and constantly losing my patience.
And it's scaring me.
I don't want to be that mom. I don't want to be.....my mom.
I hesitate to write that, because I love her so much. She was a great mother. But most of my memories of my older childhood are of her yelling. A lot.
I can't blame her. She was a stay-at-home (mostly) mom of four kids. My dad worked, often long hours. We had a limited budget. Many, many things that will stress a mom out. And although she had many friends, I don't think she had a large support network. She didn't have ECE training, or parenting magazines, or the internet to help her learn new ways to deal with different situation. (Ok, that sounds conceited. I'm not trying to say that I'm a better mom than she was just because I have ECE training, I just maybe have more insight into some situations.) She did the best she could. But my memories are of a grumpy mom. I specifically remember loving the holidays (vacations or Christmas) because that's when my mom would be happier.
And that proves the old adage: Happy mom, happy kids.
So back to my dilemma, what's tearing me up. Last weekend, I found myself crying, and telling myself that I really needed a break. And that I would take one.
DH is planning to go to the cottage this weekend. As you know, not my favourite place, but it is his. For you Americans, it is a long weekend here; Canada Day is July 1st, and happens to fall on a Friday this year. So that means DH would probably leave and go up to the cottage on Thurs night.
I told him yesterday that I wasn't going.
DH- "WHY?" (now looking very disgruntled)
Me- "I really need a break. I really need this if I am going to spend the next nine weeks surrounded by kids and fighting."
DH - silence.
Me- "What are you thinking?"
DH- "I'm just disappointed I guess."
Here's where I'm thinking, Does he want me to come because he will miss me? or Does he want me to come because he knows this means he's left with the kids on his own?
I thought I'd give him the benefit of the doubt. I assumed he meant he wanted to be with me. So I offered a compromise. "Why don't we give the kids to your mom, and we could have the weekend to ourselves?" (We haven't had that in, well, forever.)
DH - (in an almost whiny tone) "But I really want to go to the cottage."
Ok, fine. Guess that answers my question. So apparently, my needs are not important. It doesn't matter that I'm stressed. It doesn't matter that we haven't had couple time in forever. It only matters that he gets what he wants. So now I'm made to feel guilty for wanting some sanity. For wanting to regain my composure, to feel like an adult instead of a mom.
Part of me is saying that it's not as bad as all that. Maybe I'm making a mountain out of a molehill. We aren't very good communicators. Probably because I bottle everything up out of past experiences of learning that being emotional gets me nowhere with him. He is very stubborn. And if he does give in to what I want, he will sulk and be sullen about it, for AGES!! Boy that guy can hold a grudge! So I probably should talk to him, and let him know that us spending alone time together is very important to us as a couple.
But then there's the selfish part of me that wants to be ALONE alone. No one else. Free to have the whole bed, to eat when I want, to eat what I want (not what I think is a decent compromise of all the family's likes and dislikes), to run on my own schedule. To have NO schedule! So I don't know if I want to change his mind...Plus that selfish part wants him to suffer. I want him to see what I go through. Of course knowing my luck, the boys will be angels all weekend. They'll save it all up for when they get home.
So there is another reason I want to stay home. It's my mom's birthday on Sunday, my nephew T's 2nd birthday tomorrow, and my Nan is arriving from England for her annual summer visit. Three good reasons to go visit with my family this weekend. And due to the holiday, we almost ALWAYS miss my mom's birthday. And I feel awful about that. I want to celebrate with her. She deserves it.
So what, you say, is my problem?
I feel bad. I feel like a horrible mother for not wanting to be with my kids. I feel like I'm letting them down, that I'm giving them some idea that I can't stand them. And I know I'll miss them. Especially when I'm hearing or watching the fireworks here in town on Friday night. But, it's not enough to make me go with them.
I think.
Maybe.
We'll see.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Feeling Like A Bad Mom
Lately I've been having a hard time with L. My patience for his antics has long since worn thin. Let me try to explain a few of the things that he does.
He constantly complains about anything and everything. Even when something hasn't happened yet, but there is a small chance it could, he moans and whines about it.
He doesn't listen. I tell him to do something, and he ignores me. Until I threaten him with taking away something such as his iPod.
He has a hard time getting along with the other kids here at home. He can't seem to make compromises, and when things don't go his way, he throws a fit, or he lashes out physically, or he does things to deliberately annoy them.
He argues with me, his brother, anyone, and he slams doors.
When he has things that don't go his way, or he gets hurt, or he is asked to do some kind of chore, it's a huge drama. It's the "worst day ever" or he wants to "die" or "kill himself" or he "hates this world". I don't know how to take that. DoI take him seriously and get him professional help? Is he depressed? Or is it a ploy for attention? So far I've tried to ignore it, but I don't want to ignore something potentially serious.
Everything is boooooorrrrrrriiinnnggg.
When he gets into trouble, he hits himself in the head and calls himself stupid. I can't seem to make him see that he's not, no matter what, and I want to know where I went wrong with fostering his self-esteem. Who has told him that he is stupid? He feels inadequate next to all the other kids at school.
Things are bad. I want him to be a happy child. But he makes it seem like his life is a total hardship. I don't know how to show him that he has a great life. That he's so lucky to be him.
The worst part of all this is that I don't want to be around him anymore. When he screams out, "I HATE THIS WORLD!!" it takes everything in me not to tell him to leave then. The comments that go through my head when he is being irritating are shocking even to me. And while I realize that I shouldn't be saying (I don't) or even thinking those things as his mother, I can't help it. It isn't until later when I calm down significantly that I feel a little bad.
The other weekend, after saying at least five separate times that the floor was wet (freshly washed) and to stay off, I lost it. He walked onto the floor while having a fit because his brother got a lemonade and he never asked for one, to dump out the drink he did have. Aside from the fact that he was wasting something out of spite, I was very angry that he was on my clean wet floor! I screamed at him so loudly that A) I'm sure the neighbours heard, B) I made my throat hurt and C) I startled him so bad he started to cry. You'd think I would feel bad for that, but I didn't. I was seething, my blood was pounding through my veins, and it was only by a slim margin that I managed to say "Go to your room!" instead of "Get out of my sight, I can't stand looking at you!"
Because that's what I was thinking.
After a 20 minute walk around the neighbourhood and a small stay in my garden, I finally felt calm enough to go back in the house. I was still angry though, but forced myself to go to his room and try to make amends.
I know this may seem an extreme over-reaction to you, but this is an ongoing thing. It's a culmination of one misbehavior after another. I can handle not listening. I can handle whining. I can handle mess-making. I can handle complaining. I can handle (some) fighting. But I can't handle ALL of it, ALL at once, ALL the time.
I feel like a bad mother. I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to make him happier. I don't know how to make myself want to be around him. And I'm scared that one day I'm going to say or do something I'll really regret.
I think the main problem now is that there's no reward. You know how you say, "It's all worth it" when they give you a hug, or kiss, or sweet smile, or say they love you out of the blue?
Yeah, there's none of that. He won't hug me unless I steal one or ask, he NEVER gives me a kiss, the only I love you's are when I day them first and that's few and far between. There's not a lot to keep me coming back for more. Right now, to me, he feels like another kid in my daycare who annoys the hell out of me and hasn't got picked up for days! Even my babies give me more love than he does.
So here's my next question. Do I continue to "force" physical affection on him/from him, or do I leave him alone? Am I disrespecting his personal space or wishes by hugging him and kissing him when he clearly doesn't want me to? Or is it my right (because really, I think it is)?
What do I do? School is done in three days, and honestly, I'm worried. I'm worried we'll have a crappy summer and I'll end up mentally ill or something.
Right now he is in bed. I am thinking back on my day, and analyzing it. Today, I really tried to keep my cool. No yelling. I did pretty well. However, I ended up crying instead. I was chopping rhubarb and couldn't stop the tears from falling as I was feeling like a horrible mom for wishing my kids away. Luckily no one noticed, as I couldn't really explain it.
Sigh.
I just can't win.
He constantly complains about anything and everything. Even when something hasn't happened yet, but there is a small chance it could, he moans and whines about it.
He doesn't listen. I tell him to do something, and he ignores me. Until I threaten him with taking away something such as his iPod.
He has a hard time getting along with the other kids here at home. He can't seem to make compromises, and when things don't go his way, he throws a fit, or he lashes out physically, or he does things to deliberately annoy them.
He argues with me, his brother, anyone, and he slams doors.
When he has things that don't go his way, or he gets hurt, or he is asked to do some kind of chore, it's a huge drama. It's the "worst day ever" or he wants to "die" or "kill himself" or he "hates this world". I don't know how to take that. DoI take him seriously and get him professional help? Is he depressed? Or is it a ploy for attention? So far I've tried to ignore it, but I don't want to ignore something potentially serious.
Everything is boooooorrrrrrriiinnnggg.
When he gets into trouble, he hits himself in the head and calls himself stupid. I can't seem to make him see that he's not, no matter what, and I want to know where I went wrong with fostering his self-esteem. Who has told him that he is stupid? He feels inadequate next to all the other kids at school.
Things are bad. I want him to be a happy child. But he makes it seem like his life is a total hardship. I don't know how to show him that he has a great life. That he's so lucky to be him.
The worst part of all this is that I don't want to be around him anymore. When he screams out, "I HATE THIS WORLD!!" it takes everything in me not to tell him to leave then. The comments that go through my head when he is being irritating are shocking even to me. And while I realize that I shouldn't be saying (I don't) or even thinking those things as his mother, I can't help it. It isn't until later when I calm down significantly that I feel a little bad.
The other weekend, after saying at least five separate times that the floor was wet (freshly washed) and to stay off, I lost it. He walked onto the floor while having a fit because his brother got a lemonade and he never asked for one, to dump out the drink he did have. Aside from the fact that he was wasting something out of spite, I was very angry that he was on my clean wet floor! I screamed at him so loudly that A) I'm sure the neighbours heard, B) I made my throat hurt and C) I startled him so bad he started to cry. You'd think I would feel bad for that, but I didn't. I was seething, my blood was pounding through my veins, and it was only by a slim margin that I managed to say "Go to your room!" instead of "Get out of my sight, I can't stand looking at you!"
Because that's what I was thinking.
After a 20 minute walk around the neighbourhood and a small stay in my garden, I finally felt calm enough to go back in the house. I was still angry though, but forced myself to go to his room and try to make amends.
I know this may seem an extreme over-reaction to you, but this is an ongoing thing. It's a culmination of one misbehavior after another. I can handle not listening. I can handle whining. I can handle mess-making. I can handle complaining. I can handle (some) fighting. But I can't handle ALL of it, ALL at once, ALL the time.
I feel like a bad mother. I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to make him happier. I don't know how to make myself want to be around him. And I'm scared that one day I'm going to say or do something I'll really regret.
I think the main problem now is that there's no reward. You know how you say, "It's all worth it" when they give you a hug, or kiss, or sweet smile, or say they love you out of the blue?
Yeah, there's none of that. He won't hug me unless I steal one or ask, he NEVER gives me a kiss, the only I love you's are when I day them first and that's few and far between. There's not a lot to keep me coming back for more. Right now, to me, he feels like another kid in my daycare who annoys the hell out of me and hasn't got picked up for days! Even my babies give me more love than he does.
So here's my next question. Do I continue to "force" physical affection on him/from him, or do I leave him alone? Am I disrespecting his personal space or wishes by hugging him and kissing him when he clearly doesn't want me to? Or is it my right (because really, I think it is)?
What do I do? School is done in three days, and honestly, I'm worried. I'm worried we'll have a crappy summer and I'll end up mentally ill or something.
Right now he is in bed. I am thinking back on my day, and analyzing it. Today, I really tried to keep my cool. No yelling. I did pretty well. However, I ended up crying instead. I was chopping rhubarb and couldn't stop the tears from falling as I was feeling like a horrible mom for wishing my kids away. Luckily no one noticed, as I couldn't really explain it.
Sigh.
I just can't win.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Irritated
Sorry, this is a griping and complaining sort of blog entry. Pretty whiny, all things considered.
But I'm annoyed.
At, you might guess DH, but no, The Nan.
She called tonight, around 5:30. I hesitated to answer the phone, as I always do when I see her name pop up. I know it's mean, but it almost always means she wants something from DH. Something time-consuming, mostly. But I talked myself into answering it for a couple of reasons. One, she lives with DH's mom and dad, so when the name pops up, it's not always her (although usually it is) and I really don't mind having a chat with his mom. Two, I have to keep reminding myself that she is old, and she can't help that her mind is "going", and karma can be a bitch if I don't remember this.
Why, oh why did I not listen to my instincts this time? I knew that she had only just called last week to ask how we were all doing. So she had to have been calling because she wanted something. It was too soon for another, "How are you?" call.
She simply asked me if DH was home (not yet) and to call her when he was. I really should have "forgotten" to pass the message on.
Turns out, she wanted him to drive to Richmond Hill where they live to go car shopping! WTF? She wants to go NOW, because some Ford promotion ends tonight.
Really? She couldn't have called several weeks ago to ask him when a good time would be? She had to wait until the last minute, of the last day of the promotion? And, incidentally, what promotion ends on a Tuesday?? Or, the 14th of the month?
And why does HE have to go? We all know how pig-headed and stubborn she is, it's not like she's going to listen to anything he says! She could easily have dragged out DH's dad and not listened to his advice instead. He does live with her, and wouldn't have to drive for an hour to get there.
He had just got home from work, plus he had cut the grass, and wolfed down his dinner. The boys got to see their dad for about 10 minutes as he inhaled his meal.
I SO hate this! This....this....power, I guess, that she has over him. Well, that his whole family seems to have over him. He is at her beck and call. What is with that? Why couldn't he have just told her no, I'm sorry, I'm busy? To call and expect him to jump and run immediately there is unbelievable! And unfair! She is so irritating!!
But I'm annoyed.
At, you might guess DH, but no, The Nan.
She called tonight, around 5:30. I hesitated to answer the phone, as I always do when I see her name pop up. I know it's mean, but it almost always means she wants something from DH. Something time-consuming, mostly. But I talked myself into answering it for a couple of reasons. One, she lives with DH's mom and dad, so when the name pops up, it's not always her (although usually it is) and I really don't mind having a chat with his mom. Two, I have to keep reminding myself that she is old, and she can't help that her mind is "going", and karma can be a bitch if I don't remember this.
Why, oh why did I not listen to my instincts this time? I knew that she had only just called last week to ask how we were all doing. So she had to have been calling because she wanted something. It was too soon for another, "How are you?" call.
She simply asked me if DH was home (not yet) and to call her when he was. I really should have "forgotten" to pass the message on.
Turns out, she wanted him to drive to Richmond Hill where they live to go car shopping! WTF? She wants to go NOW, because some Ford promotion ends tonight.
Really? She couldn't have called several weeks ago to ask him when a good time would be? She had to wait until the last minute, of the last day of the promotion? And, incidentally, what promotion ends on a Tuesday?? Or, the 14th of the month?
And why does HE have to go? We all know how pig-headed and stubborn she is, it's not like she's going to listen to anything he says! She could easily have dragged out DH's dad and not listened to his advice instead. He does live with her, and wouldn't have to drive for an hour to get there.
He had just got home from work, plus he had cut the grass, and wolfed down his dinner. The boys got to see their dad for about 10 minutes as he inhaled his meal.
I SO hate this! This....this....power, I guess, that she has over him. Well, that his whole family seems to have over him. He is at her beck and call. What is with that? Why couldn't he have just told her no, I'm sorry, I'm busy? To call and expect him to jump and run immediately there is unbelievable! And unfair! She is so irritating!!
Monday, June 13, 2011
Glee Concert
On Saturday I traveled to downtown Toronto to see Glee Live in Concert with my sister N and niece M. The boys and DH came with me for the ride, and they went to take in Casa Loma while we girls did our thing.
It was all very exciting, and our seats were amazing! We had floor seats, twenty rows back from the main stage. There was another smaller stage set up in the middle of the floor area that we were even closer to. I took this picture of Kurt (Chris Colfer) and Rachel (Lea Michele)with N's camera, since I stupidly thought we couldn't bring cameras and so didn't bring mine. They were on the smaller stage at this point.
I felt a little like a teenager again, screaming and applauding, jumping up and down and dancing. It's easy to get caught up in the enthusiasm and excitement. I bought the three of us matching red Glee shirts from Walmart, but miss M wouldn't wear hers, as it wasn't pink or sparkly at all. Hey, that's what's important when you're a four year old girl! I probably won't be wearing the shirt again, other than for cleaning or something, because even though in the moment it felt "cool", I probably look like a real dork as a 37 year old mom sporting a teenager's apparel.
So I've been following the cast of Glee on Twitter, which I don't normally bother with (I'm listed as mom2others, if you care, which I don't really). I wanted to see what they would say about Toronto and such. I came across a link to a blog that Dianna Agron writes (she plays Quinn). It is about tolerance, and it is so well written. I don't know much about the personal lives of any of these stars, but she must be well educated, and very smart. If you have a chance, you should read it, here.
Friday, June 10, 2011
GLEE!!
I am very excited to be going to see Glee in Concert at the ACC tomorrow! I am going with my sister N, and little Miss M as well. I bought us all matching red Glee t-shirts from Walmart. Since M is only 4, her's will be more of a dress, but that's ok, the t-shirts are tight fitting and I bought her x-small.I know, I'm a GLEEK, but I can't wait!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
I'm A Terrible Blogger
I've been really bad at blogging lately. Part of this is due to the fact that I am just so busy during the days now. I don't seem to get too many breaks like I used to during the day, mostly because the older non-napping children will no longer be good and go watch a movie at naptime and LEAVE ME ALONE for an hour's peace. Oh no. They are "bored" with that. They don't waaaaannnnt to (said with an extended whine). So I feel that I must perform my professional duties and find things for them to do. Either that or appear too busy (which actually means being busy) to entertain them. Sigh. And because of the better weather, we've been outside a lot too, so I'm not near a computer. And then evening hits, and all I feel like doing is collapsing, and my brain is too tired to function.
So the other reason is that I am long-winded, as you know form my posts. None of them are particularly short. So I'll start writing a post, then get interrupted halfway through, and by the time I have a chance to get back to it, my muse is gone and I don't feel like writing that subject anymore. I just don't have enough time!
But sorry.
I'm sure all you nice people that read me (all what, 5 of you? LOL!) have been wondering what is going on with M, my niece. So here is an update.
My sis and BIL got the results of M's biopsy, and the news wasn't good. So here's what I've pieced together from various sources (N, my dad, and google). The main tumor is on her brain stem, which we already knew. It is inoperable, which we knew. It is definitely cancer. Ther are a couple of other smaller tumors in her brain. The outlook isn't good. My dad told me that they were told "a year to live". I didn't ask my sis N if that was true, because really, I couldn't ask her to rehash that, and also we are choosing to believe that miracles do happen and what is the point of listening to doctors' timelines? It's not as if you're going to cross off the days on a calendar.
I know from googling, that the prognosis for brain tumors of this type isn't good. The percentages of survival are extremely low. But here's my thought: Some people had to make up those statistics. That means some people had to have survived it. Otherwise, the percentage would be zero, wouldn't it? So why can't M be one of those in the percentage of survival? Hope is the only thing that keeps us going.
So on the medical side, she is having six weeks of radiation treatment, everyday, except weekends. That is to hopefully shrink the tumors and extend her life (I believe anyway). Chemo is not an option, as it doesn't work on the brain. This is both good and bad news. Good because it would be terrible to have to watch your child go through that, the medication is so toxic. Bad because it eliminates a treatment option and another pathway to a hopeful recovery.
On the non-medical side, my sis and BIL have contacted the homeopath I probably mentioned earlier. He is world-renowned in the homeopathic community, and has had great success with treating cancers and other terminal illnesses. He wrote a book that N read and told me that in it he claims to have a 70% success rate with curing the type of cancer that M has! And that was ten years ago. So hopefully the rate is better now, that he will have learned more since then. And he works in conjunction with modern medicine, so they don't have to choose one or the other. We are very hopeful that this will have a positive effect. I can't fathom the other option. It's just...too....wrong.
M is doing well. She hasn't had too many ill effects from the radiation yet, and you wouldn't know that she was a gravely ill little girl. This weekend M, N and I are going to see Glee in Concert! I am so excited to see it, and also to watch M enjoy it. She loves the music!
So the other reason is that I am long-winded, as you know form my posts. None of them are particularly short. So I'll start writing a post, then get interrupted halfway through, and by the time I have a chance to get back to it, my muse is gone and I don't feel like writing that subject anymore. I just don't have enough time!
But sorry.
I'm sure all you nice people that read me (all what, 5 of you? LOL!) have been wondering what is going on with M, my niece. So here is an update.
My sis and BIL got the results of M's biopsy, and the news wasn't good. So here's what I've pieced together from various sources (N, my dad, and google). The main tumor is on her brain stem, which we already knew. It is inoperable, which we knew. It is definitely cancer. Ther are a couple of other smaller tumors in her brain. The outlook isn't good. My dad told me that they were told "a year to live". I didn't ask my sis N if that was true, because really, I couldn't ask her to rehash that, and also we are choosing to believe that miracles do happen and what is the point of listening to doctors' timelines? It's not as if you're going to cross off the days on a calendar.
I know from googling, that the prognosis for brain tumors of this type isn't good. The percentages of survival are extremely low. But here's my thought: Some people had to make up those statistics. That means some people had to have survived it. Otherwise, the percentage would be zero, wouldn't it? So why can't M be one of those in the percentage of survival? Hope is the only thing that keeps us going.
So on the medical side, she is having six weeks of radiation treatment, everyday, except weekends. That is to hopefully shrink the tumors and extend her life (I believe anyway). Chemo is not an option, as it doesn't work on the brain. This is both good and bad news. Good because it would be terrible to have to watch your child go through that, the medication is so toxic. Bad because it eliminates a treatment option and another pathway to a hopeful recovery.
On the non-medical side, my sis and BIL have contacted the homeopath I probably mentioned earlier. He is world-renowned in the homeopathic community, and has had great success with treating cancers and other terminal illnesses. He wrote a book that N read and told me that in it he claims to have a 70% success rate with curing the type of cancer that M has! And that was ten years ago. So hopefully the rate is better now, that he will have learned more since then. And he works in conjunction with modern medicine, so they don't have to choose one or the other. We are very hopeful that this will have a positive effect. I can't fathom the other option. It's just...too....wrong.
M is doing well. She hasn't had too many ill effects from the radiation yet, and you wouldn't know that she was a gravely ill little girl. This weekend M, N and I are going to see Glee in Concert! I am so excited to see it, and also to watch M enjoy it. She loves the music!
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Ouchy!
On Wednesday morning when I got into the shower to start my day, I could feel a pain in my back on my right side and what felt like a menstrual cramp in my groin area on the same side. I couldn't understand why I was feeling this, because really, it was completely the wrong time of the month for that. Plus, I never get cramps on one side only.
So I carried on with my day, although the pain continued to get worse. By mid-morning I had to lie down and just let the kids play around me. By noon, I was dying for naptime, and had to call DH to come home as soon as he could. Movement aggravated the pain, and I wanted to walk around holding myself hunched over like an old lady.
Finally, 5:00 came and all the kids left and DH sent me to the clinic. Two hours later I was home with no diagnosis. Stupid, useless Dr. They did test my urine and said no infection was present there, and that I wasn't pregnant. Well duh! I could have told them that! I actually did tell them I only just finished my period the week before, do wouldn't that be a little too soon for pregnancy? Whatever. So the Dr apparently didn't know what was wrong with me. Even when I asked him if the pain could be coming from my ovaries, he said no, the pain was in the wrong place!
Turns out, that Dr needs to brush up on his female anatomy.
Over the next night and in the morning I was in excruciating pain. I was in tears at one point. I don't even remember labour being as bad as that, although I'm sure it was, just not as constant. At least labour pain came and went in waves, giving me relief in the intermittent off periods. Anyhow, DH took the kids to a friend's place to be taken to school from there, and he took me to the hospital.
At first, when I hobbled into the triage area if the ER, it looked quite empty and I thanked the heavens. However, not two minutes later, the ambulances started rolling in. And we all know that of course they take priority. An hour or more later I was dying. I was whimpering and writhing in that stupid plastic chair, trying to find the most comfortable position. I really was about thirty seconds from saying "to hell with it," and laying down on the disgusting floor.
Finally, the angels of mercy looked upon me and they granted me entrance to the place with beds. The wonderful, heavenly beds. No other bed has ever been more comfortable, more wonderful.
And yes, I know it was a gurney.
From that point on I was given something called Toridol (sp?) via IV, and then taken for a CT scan. Then I was given a most wonderful blend of morphine and gravol. Ah, sweet heaven.
After a nap that I was rudely awakened from by the Dr, (how dare he!) I was told my kidneys were fine and that I did indeed have cysts on my ovaries, the right sided one being larger and therefore causing pain.
Ok, they really shouldn't talk to you when you've only just woke up in a gravol/morphine induced stupor. It's really hard to focus! Thank god DH was there to take all the info in.
So I was sent home with a paper explaining the results (in medical jargon, and I actually ended up googling much of it to try and decode and decipher it) and told to make an appointment with my family doctor within the next few days so he/she could send me for an ultrasound within the next two weeks. Hah!! Obviously the man didn't have any idea of how hard it is to get appts in this town!
So we shall see what happens next… For now I have a lovely bottle of Tylenol + codeine.
So I carried on with my day, although the pain continued to get worse. By mid-morning I had to lie down and just let the kids play around me. By noon, I was dying for naptime, and had to call DH to come home as soon as he could. Movement aggravated the pain, and I wanted to walk around holding myself hunched over like an old lady.
Finally, 5:00 came and all the kids left and DH sent me to the clinic. Two hours later I was home with no diagnosis. Stupid, useless Dr. They did test my urine and said no infection was present there, and that I wasn't pregnant. Well duh! I could have told them that! I actually did tell them I only just finished my period the week before, do wouldn't that be a little too soon for pregnancy? Whatever. So the Dr apparently didn't know what was wrong with me. Even when I asked him if the pain could be coming from my ovaries, he said no, the pain was in the wrong place!
Turns out, that Dr needs to brush up on his female anatomy.
Over the next night and in the morning I was in excruciating pain. I was in tears at one point. I don't even remember labour being as bad as that, although I'm sure it was, just not as constant. At least labour pain came and went in waves, giving me relief in the intermittent off periods. Anyhow, DH took the kids to a friend's place to be taken to school from there, and he took me to the hospital.
At first, when I hobbled into the triage area if the ER, it looked quite empty and I thanked the heavens. However, not two minutes later, the ambulances started rolling in. And we all know that of course they take priority. An hour or more later I was dying. I was whimpering and writhing in that stupid plastic chair, trying to find the most comfortable position. I really was about thirty seconds from saying "to hell with it," and laying down on the disgusting floor.
Finally, the angels of mercy looked upon me and they granted me entrance to the place with beds. The wonderful, heavenly beds. No other bed has ever been more comfortable, more wonderful.
And yes, I know it was a gurney.
From that point on I was given something called Toridol (sp?) via IV, and then taken for a CT scan. Then I was given a most wonderful blend of morphine and gravol. Ah, sweet heaven.
After a nap that I was rudely awakened from by the Dr, (how dare he!) I was told my kidneys were fine and that I did indeed have cysts on my ovaries, the right sided one being larger and therefore causing pain.
Ok, they really shouldn't talk to you when you've only just woke up in a gravol/morphine induced stupor. It's really hard to focus! Thank god DH was there to take all the info in.
So I was sent home with a paper explaining the results (in medical jargon, and I actually ended up googling much of it to try and decode and decipher it) and told to make an appointment with my family doctor within the next few days so he/she could send me for an ultrasound within the next two weeks. Hah!! Obviously the man didn't have any idea of how hard it is to get appts in this town!
So we shall see what happens next… For now I have a lovely bottle of Tylenol + codeine.
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