Oopsy-daisy

Sometimes you go to change a diaper and you end up changing four. Or five. I lost count. Don't ask about the state of the floor.

The Wonders of Poo

I am, and have been for many years, well acquainted with poo in it's many forms. Sick poo and healthy poo. Geriatric poo and neonate poo and all ages in between (all though less well known is the adolescent poo age spectrum, I haven't had much experience with that poo-group). I am, you might recall, a nurse. Squeamishness is not allowed.

But my experience up until now has had a certain emotional distance; I had Fecal Episodes and Educational Experiences in Incontinence. There were no emotional overtones to whether or not the patient in room seven was really constipated or whether she was merely bowel obsessed. My previous run-ins with baby waste; Mother-Infant Nursing and the earlier introduction by my sister's young children; were more academic in nature.

That has now changed. First of all, in the last 3 weeks ( as of today if you wish specifics) I have probably seen more poop than in the 3 years of nursing. The quantity astonishes and amazes. Even more so when contrasted to the tiny size of this poo-making machine.

Second, it matters now. Meconium was expected and so wasn't too traumatic for me. But transitional poop was an unexpected trauma. Was it too late in changing? Did it take too long? Was it the jaundice or was he just developmentally delayed, even in his stools? Finally things seemed on track, as it were, and flowing normally.

Then the blow fell. Diarrhea. Or not. How do you tell? None of my previous experience could have helped here. Baby poop would be diarrhea had it come from an adult. But it doesn't so none of the normal indicators work here! Oh, help! What's a bear of little brain to do?

Thank the Lord above for grandparents. And sisters who work for pediatricians. Many phone calls and much internal obsessing later I have it figured out, I think. Consistency-slightly too watery and frequency-slightly too often. But only very slightly. Thus the decision is made. Dairy must go! I was lactose intolerant as an infant and that little gem seems to have carried through. Problem solved, mostly, 'cause I can't give up cheese. Nope, not happening.

In addition to the angst-filled response to poor Sprout's poo there is a certain awe in it's periodic poetry.

A few days ago I was up with the Sprout for his morning feeding when I heard the distinctive sound of a dirty diaper being made. Now I have found that the Sprout poops in threes so I was in no hurry to hop up and change him. I finished feeding him and heard a few more spurts happen. "Ah!" I said to myself "It's safe!"

I then undressed him and removed the item in question. As I did so the fountain which little boys are so famous for began. All is well though, as his quick-thinking mama pulled the mostly saturated diaper up over the offending part. Safe! Feeling more than a little smug I finished taking off the diaper and threw it away.

Just as I turned back from the diaper pail I saw a perfect fountain fall delicately in his ear followed by a yellow stream of baby poo arching gracefully out from the other end of him, over the end of the changing pad, and landing on the nearby wall. The contrast of the bright, primary colors was quite striking as the poo quickly ran down the nursery's blue wall, rushing to meet the carpet. I was able to save the carpet, just, from the waterfall of baby poo. Unfortunately in my amazement at young Sprout's artistry and irony I had neglected to notice the poo dribbling down the front of the changing table and so the carpet did not go unscathed.

The culprit at the scene of the crime

On Names

There was great discussions as to what the sprout would be named on arrival. At least The Geek partially listened to my long monologues on the subject. The first name was relatively easy, mostly because I don't have nearly as strong an opinion on boy's names as I do with girl's names. But the second name gave us some difficulty. Every thing that I really liked The Geek vetoed and vice versa. We finally settled on a name we both liked both on it's own and in conjunction with his Christian name.

My parents now tell us we choose poorly. His name clearly, they say, should be Harold. Why you ask? Well, look here...

And now look here.

Do you see what they see? It's really more noticeable when he's very, very relaxed and all splayed out into the same body position, but I'm not posting (or taking) any photos like that because I'm not quite that comfortable with breastfeeding!

I have informed my esteemed parents that the likeness will fade over time but the sprouts name will not and there is no way on earth I'm saddling any child of my with a name like Harold! Which, I'm sure, is a very fine name if it happens to be yours. Sorry?

And one more photo for the road, because I think he's cute.

Yeah, that's more then one, I know. But he's Cute! And that's all the justification I need.

RE: Hello

So given that I haven't posted anything for, um, *cough * *cough* 4 years I thought it might be best to start over again. Mostly this is for family but in case anyone else wanders on and sticks around for more than 5 seconds a brief introduction may be in order.

Hi! I'm Debbie, a nurse working in the admissions center of a local hospital, currently on Maternity leave for the first time due to the arrival of a small and voracious sprout. Techno-geek and I didn't figure out until shockingly late that it was the sprouts impending arrival was the cause of my extreme laziness and slightly twitchy stomach. This was embarrassing in the extreme as, you know, I am a nurse. Please don't judge. There were reasons this didn't occur to me. Good ones! Really! *sigh*

So the wee stomach has arrived and is, in fact, two weeks old today. I have been hearing with increasing regularity the chorus of "Send us pictures!" from our far

-flung family so I have dug my little point & shoot camera out of the closet. (The giant and intimidating manual camera is really not my thing, I'll leave the good quality pictures for The Geek [that title is given in love, btw and I mean geek in the 3rd definition. Most assuredly not the 1st, 'cause that's weird.]) Anyway, I though to myself, I though "Hmm, if I'm going to take the time to post pictures for people, maybe I should also post stories too. I should see if my blog is still sitting in the moldering corners of the internet!" So I did. And it was. And here we are today.

I leave you for now with this evidence of my son's cuteness and his father's weirdness. I had nothing to do with it, I just took the picture. Sprout doesn't look to thrilled either. His father was laughing uproariously.

Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!

I feel rabbit-eque. Last day in my management rotation. Don't have the time or energy to explain what that means. I get back at 4 and think to myself "one hour to sleep and then dinner and work." I got to sleep. I got very, very asleep! I think I can remember dreaming. By some miracle of God I actually woke up before I had to be at work, barely. I grabbed the school work I had to do and bolted. On my way over I tried calling people to see if anyone could bring food to me over at the nursing department.

This is very important as I have had to eat today...

1. 1 cup of hot chocolate
2. 2 pretzel sticks, size small
3. 4 different kinds of vegetables
4. 1 roll with butter
5. 1 diabetic pudding
6. and I found 4 granola bars in my bag when I got to work which will be eaten soon

That is hardly enough to sustain a person through a 17 hour day. So the people that I called? Three people didn't answer their phone and the other two were on their way to appointments that were.... just kind of... important. One was able to stop by the cafe but there wasn't anything that could be picked up in a hurry.

So I will eat my granola bars and once I'm out of work at 9 I'll go "home" and make myself a big steaming bowl of Raman!... Yay.

Reborn Again

The truth I knew I long forgot.
The awe and joy in You became
Routine. Tradition took the place
That once discovery held.
How did I fall from peaks and vale's
Onto unchanging plains?

The world's weight presses on each side;
My burden and my path both grow.
So I breath
Never feeling the sparkle in the air,
The wind caress my face,
Or Your Spirit by my side.

You made the blind to see
But the seeing lost their sight.
Make me deaf that I may hear
And blind that I may see.
For only those who see the dark
Will understand the light.

Teach me how to live
Looking beyond the ordinary view.
Teach me how to see
Your hand in all that breaths and moves.
Teach me how to trust
That every day's a gift for me from You.

peace in the storm

So I did go to the GODencounter at Winnekeag yesterday. I was ask by Elizabeth almost a month ago to be in charge of the prayer room. Well, what she called it was prayer cover, which seems a bit different to me. But that nitpicking.

I really didn't want to go because I have so much that I have to do for school. There's the videos for management , the practice NCLEX for seminar, and the 3 quizzes for Med/Surg on top of studying neuro and attempting to finally memorize the cranial nerves which I should have done 2 years ago in A&P.

I thought that this early in the year the workload and the stress level wouldn't be too bad. However I forgot something-this is nursing where there is no such thing as starting slowly. The first week you have class for 8 hours a day. That's not slow.

But I am really glad that I went. Not a lot of people came to the prayer chapel they had set up in one of the cabins so I spent several hours just praying and journaling and reading. I haven't had time, or rather made the opportunity, for me to do that in a really long time. I did get to go to the meeting as I was to man the chapel during the workshops. The speaker was really good and very, very funny but the highlight of the day for me was really the chance to stop doing and just to be.

All over again

So. School started. This is the second day of classes and I'm still alive. I understand what's being taught. I haven't even gone through what was previously the prerequisite first-day-of-nursing-class panic. When I heard what we are required to do I just thought "Oh, ok. I can do that. I've done it before." So I should be doing very well.

But it's already started again. I always forget about it and when I remember it becomes minimized, marginalized. I always seem to think that it will be better this time. I'm alone, separate. Everyone else seems to know each other, seems to see each other. They have classes together, they room together, they eat together and than I wander in—the intruder. I know it's all in my head, but that doesn't stop it.

With a very few exceptions every human contact that I have is superficial froth. Don't think I don't know that in every interaction there's some degree of froth, I do. But it hurts when it comes from people I thought I was closer to then that. When that happens every interaction that is meaningless hurts.

Don't mind me. Just feeling a little blue. Apparently no one outside of the nursing department has school work to do. I’m just alone tonight. Don’t worry. It should be better later.