So I was in the hospital all day yesterday for my D&C and it went well – they got everything out.
We got there at 7am and I had to be à jeun (not have eaten or drunk anything since the night before) and pre-scrubbed with an antiseptic soap. The staff was nice and asked how anxious I was (to know whether or not I would need a Xanax). And the hospital gowns were a really flattering dark blue. I don’t know if you realize first-hand just how awful those white and blue flowered gowns are in flourescent light but it was so nice to see rosy cheeks when I looked in the mirror.
Actually I commented to my husband just how happy I felt as I was lying there on the bed and he was seated on a chair at my feet. I didn’t have to worry about anyone else, I could just get my own needs taken care of and have an entire day to myself. “That’s so sad,” he said, his forehead wrinkling in concern as he rubbed my feet. “You’re in a hospital!”
“I know!” I said, laughing with delight. (I think I need to get out more).
By about 1:00 my patience was being tested as my stomach gurgled and my throat was parched. But even the delay was not enough to shake my good mood. I told Sir how happy I was that I would finally have closure, and that we were going to have gluten-free pepperoni pizza that night and watch our latest DVD series. Plus I would have a complete day to recover since the kids would be in school the next day and I had nothing else planned.
About that time, my neighbor was brought in and although I couldn’t see her because the curtain was closed, it was like being an unwilling fly held captive on her wall. She was sobbing and saying that she was tired of being opened up, tired of people seeing her butt (she didn’t want to wear the gown). What did she ever do to deserve cancer and she was so afraid of dying. Why did she have to die?
Her husband murmured in relay with her sobs, “Honey, be reasonable; everything will be alright; no I’ve never thought much about death; don’t say stupid things, I won’t stand for it; everything will be alright.”
I had mixed feelings. I felt first and foremost a determination that I must bravely face whatever I needed to go through – not just today, but whatever I came up against in the future. Crying and balking didn’t help her husband, and it certainly didn’t help herself. It just did no good at all and it couldn’t change a thing about her situation.
And then I felt an overwhelming compassion for her and what she was going through – how frightened and trapped she felt. Since social protocol dictated that I couldn’t open the curtains up to speak comforting words to her, I just prayed for her – that she would be healed from her cancer and that she would be relieved of her intense anxiety. Even though I had been there for six hours already, they took her before me and I was totally fine with that. Poor woman needed to get through her anxiety-inducing procedure as soon as possible.
So I was finally wheeled to the operating “block” as they call it. (A little too close to “butchering block” for my comfort). I lay on the narrow table under the great white light with my arms stretched out on either side of me, while an IV the size of a drinking straw was inserted in my hand. I was told to think of something happy and so I remembered our trip to FL when Young Lady was 6 months old and Sir told me he was ready to move back to France. And then just as I was about to go under, I quickly thought of other memories with my sons because I didn’t want to leave them out.
When I woke up the doctor told me that the procedure was a success – they were able to remove everything – but that there was too much bleeding to see anything properly so I would have to come back for a hysteroscopy a month later and that would be done with no anaesthesia whatsoever.
That piece of news was just … such a bummer.
By the time I got back to the room, I had developed a a high temperature. I felt feverish so I wasn’t really surprised when the nurse declared me to be at 101.5. They won’t let you out of the hospital with a fever so I resigned myself to stay the night and just battled to keep everything in perspective. But then Sir prayed that I would be able to go home with him that night, and somehow when the nurse came back with the doctor, I felt normal again and my temperature was also completely normal.
I don’t really understand it, but it was my own little miracle.
As we were driving home, I knew there would be no pepperoni pizza for me that night. For one thing, we got home at nearly 8pm and I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since the night before with the exception of a yoghurt and applesauce after the procedure. For another, they had put a tube down my throat during the operation so that I could barely swallow and it also felt like there was a knot in my stomach whenever I swallowed, like acid reflux. So definitely no pepperoni for me. (It may sound trivial but pepperoni pizza is a rarity for a gluten-free lady like me).
And when my mother-in-law brought the kids home we found out that we had sent them to her house with “poux” (pronounced like pooh). It means lice.
Aaargh! The first time they had ever gotten lice was when I was in the hospital after having given birth to Petit Prince. And of course the kids just happened to be staying at Sir’s parents during that time. (I mean, my in-laws are very gracious, but we might just outwear our welcome). Since we had nothing to treat them with, we had to keep them home from school the next day. So.
No closure.
No rest and recuperation.
No pepperoni pizza. Nothing was turning out at all like I had planned.
But I decided today just had to be a good day, so I prepared myself for it. First I did this:
This is Young Lady’s hair, which I chopped off. It’s times like these when having a girl can put you at a disadvantage – lice love long hair. (Say that 3 times fast)
Then I put their treatment on. This is them showing how they feel about having lice.
Then I did laundry. This is only half of it – sheets, towels, stuffed animals, coats, sofa cushions, blankets – you name it! Everything that might have been contaminated.
Then I got them outdoors to burn off steam.
Then I looked online to find an art project
that they could really be proud of.
And then we made these.
I know, ridiculously garish right? Oatmeal cookies with peanut M-n-M’s. A surefire kid-pleaser.
Now they are watching a DVD and I feel like I really earned my down time, even though I was actually filled with contentment today in spite of it all – I enjoyed all our activites and even the chores. I don’t know if it was remembering that woman and how it could be so much worse. Or if it was the fact that I just really appreciate my life right now with all its ups and downs. Or if I was, in fact, able to find some closure after all.
In any case I’m currently under observation for multiple personalities. I may be committed.
Wow, wow, wow, all I can say is I don’t know HOW you do it!
Thank goodness they have school tomorrow because I don’t think I can do a repeat performance.
oh my! as if the d and c weren’t enough!!!!! yikes! i hope the poux goes away SOON and that you get some recovery time, momma!
I remembered what Jack said and tried not to pull away from the hugs.
(Once they had their treatment on).
Despite the poux, Young lady’s hair and those cookies look absolutely delicious.
(Silver lining?)
Argh. I am sorry that I always feel the need to find a positive or two in any situation. No matter how small. I suppose it’s a good trait but sometimes I must annoy others dreadfully.
In any case.
I surely hope they get back to school soon and that you get a bit of rest.
(And also that there may be a few cookies left for you.)
Don’t worry – I always feel listened to by you.
And anyway, I’m in a sliver lining kind of mood.
Goodness, all of this to go through and yet you manage to look so lovely in your wedding dress!
I know. It’s a challenge being so elegant all the time. 😉
No, if you want to see the more current me you can look at the recipe page under gluten free brownie moelleux. Except now my hair is shorter.
Jennie, I just want to go over there, take the kids off your hands for a few hours and let you do whatever you want to do – lie down, eat gluten-free pizza, watch a DVD. The Universe owes you a break!
Does virtual babysitting count?
Yes! Virtual babysitting does count – let’s try skype.
No seriously, thank you for your sweet words. 🙂
Oh my. Lice is my worst nightmare! I remember having it when I was a kid and talk about a disaster. I fear this. I really do.
Sorry all of this is going on but you know how to make lemons out of lemonade. I admire that.
Hospital, temperature, no pizza and lice. What a week! You ARE a Mom!
I am always speechless as I read your blog lately (haven’t responded but have been keeping up) as my responses always sound trite…but I KNOW that God is always in control. Isaiah 40 has been my favorite chapter this year. It may bring you some perspective, it really has helped me….but that’s another story! Keep up the great attitude.
I almost didn’t respond to your comment too, also for fearing to be too trite. So I know how you feel, but I really really appreciate your reading – thank you.
I wish I could help you.
I will pray that the bleeding never comes back.
I will pray that you will be well.
I am so touched by how you hurriedly brought in thoughts of your children, all your children, so none would be left out.
You are so special.
All I can say is Bless your Heart!!!
Hey, what happened to the glum? Maybe you were just bored! See what a little excitement will do?
Oh how I wish I lived over there so I could come on over (hair in a masive bun) bring you a big fat pizza and help with the mounds of laundry. What a day my friend! Hugs.
I am nearly speechless too. How much can one person go through?
But. . .can it be mere coincidence that your hospital neighbor was going through worse? I think not.
Take good care of yourself.
Oh my! It’s like terrible news after terrible news! Glad that you are still staying so positive after all of that.
On another note.. those cookies look absolutely divine! =)
Holy crikey!! I can’t believe the emotinal rollercoaster of our past few days! I’m sure the women crying next to you (such an odd and intimate situation we are put in) in the hospital had some kind of an impact on you and helped you enjoy your kids and have fun activities despite all the physical and emotional exhaustion. Now go and enjoy some gluten-free peporoni slices as soon as your throat can handle it!!! You deserve it!
It all seems reasonable to me. Very much so.
And powerful – both the not so small miracle of going home fever free and the choice to make the day good. How we look at things matters so much.
Heal. And boo to the pooh.
You my dear are an amazing woman! True, believe it and own it 🙂
Oh no – not lice. I am so sorry. How much can one take? I wish I could fly to France to help. xo
Surely that’s the excuse you’ve been waiting for Tracy – come to France and catch lice. heh heh 🙂
But yes, do come one of these days brood and all.
I just found your blog and I’m so impressed: at all you’re doing, at your attitude, at how well you tell a story — everything! I wish I could help though; lice is just too much. Well, lice and laundry…right after the hospital, and no pizza. You deserve a treat for sure. As for me, I’m going to poke through your archives for awhile and find out more of your story.
Emily thank you so much for visiting.
Wow Jennie! I would have called a friend to come over and take care of my kids – or made my husband stay home from work. You’re super mom.
I’m not, I’m not a super mom! I promise. This is just one of those rare moments of contentment in spite of the challenging circumstances.
As far as having someone come over, I’m all for it, but sometimes it’s just not practical. I can’t see asking my friends to come do laundry and risk catching lice. I won’t have any more friends! 🙂
Oh you, while so much strikes me here, it is mostly your contentment. Your ability, and want, to find and see goodness EVERYWHERE, no matter what.
(Inspiring)
xo
Hey Jennie,
I am so sorry to hear about all that you’ve just gone through!! I feel like an incredibly horrible friend. I was thinking about you this week and figured I should check your blog, but didn’t until right now. Something told me I should check in on what you’re up to… God I wish I was there with you to help relieve you, watch the kids so you can have time for yourself. I hope you are recovering well. I will pray that everything goes well and that you can completely move on from this chapter in your life! With love, Kathy
No, you’re not a bad friend Kathy. It’s hard to keep up from far away – and thank you for thinking of me. I’m still waiting for you to tell me about your blog launch.
Oh my… What a terrible day!
I feel that you need a MUCH deserved break and hopefully you get it soon.
Sending much love & hugs your way.
Thank you dear.
I will always remember living in a co-op house at Penn State when one of my housemates said we had a lice situation. So we cleaned EVERYTHING. Then, we told her to catch one so we could look at it under a scope. It was a CRAB. Yep. It was only she that needed to clean – – – everything.
ew gross! We don’t have that problem, thank goodness. Luckily she had gracious roommates. 🙂
I love the title of this post 😉
For some strange reason I find puns very cheering, don’t you?
I almost added (this is not about diapers!)
I’m sorry I’m so late getting here, Jennie, but I couldn’t leave without saying how in awe I am of your serenity, your honesty, and your perspective. I’ve been feeling awfully sorry for myself this past week with a house full of sick kids (and a sick mommy to boot), but you’ve reminded me to look for the small moments of fortune in every difficult moment. Thank you for that and your beautiful writing. xo
Well, for crying out loud. When is the universe going to give you a break? I hope you are feeling better and that you eventually got that pepperoni pizza…
Oh bother! Wishing the lice away for you. We just dealt with that and there is nothing, well, little that I can think of right now, more maddening than the thought of virtually invisible bugs taking over your kids’ heads.