Renewed bad luck. . . and happy endings
Some of you may remember a couple of months ago when I wrote about the streak of bad luck we were having. I whined and wailed about how much it sucks to have everything go wrong when you are pregnant and expecting twins and thus need to save that money for said twins and not, say, car repairs or stupid dog injuries. Ha! If only I could have seen that not only would I get fatter (fifty pounds and counting!) but that it was possible for things to get worse. Ha ha to you Mariko of two months ago! You were so naive. . .
Actually, things didn't start out so bad this week. We've all been tired and grumpy and we whined our way through some Christmas shopping. Then I went to my weekly NST (a non-stress test in which they monitor the babies movements, heart rates and my contractions as a precautionary measure). At this NST, just as Bob and I were getting ready to leave and perhaps actually have time to eat lunch by ourselves, silly Baby B decided to go ahead and have her heart rate drop for a few seconds. We were thus thrust reluctantly back into our places for more monitoring. I, at least, was relatively calm, because everything thus far had been fine and I was sure it was just one of those things. But these hospitals don't like to leave these things unchecked. So after a doctor's appointment, off we went to get an ultrasound. We had to wait for over an hour, and then. . . . we had the ultrasound tech intern from hell. She was not only socially inept and failed to tell us that she was training, but she started the exam by looking for the placentas, failing to find them and then questioning me about their whereabouts.
Are you sure there are two of them in there? she asked.
What?? I responded. Do you mean babies or placentas?
Placentas, she replied. I can only see one!
Well, I'm sure there's two, I said. I've had several ultrasounds before this.
Well, did they happen to tell you where they might be?
HUH???? Bob and I were totally befuddled by her incompetence. All became clear when another woman walked in, asked how the tech was doing, and then proceeded to go through every step of the entire exam with her. Very tedious. Bob seethed. Then we had to wait hours for the results. We were at the hospital for over five hours, with minimal food. Twins must eat!
Event #2: I decided to wash the slipcover on our couch with a load of our best sheets. I failed to check the slipcover cracks for items. Red crayon made its way into the dryer. Chaos ensued. Has anyone else ever done this? It looked like we had tried to kill somebody on our couch and then stabbed them some more on our bed. Awful. And the inside of the dryer too. We read on the internet to use WD-40, dish soap, hot water and much scrubbing, but even after many washings with bleach, no luck. I really wanted to cry. All this was put into perspective however by Event #3. Read on . . .
Saturday we were going to start the day with some exciting dryer cleaning and spot treating. Bob, however, felt like he had pulled a muscle and had some chest pain, so he took a nap while Lilli and I went in search of dry cleaning solvent. (The slipcover must be salvaged!) When I came back, Bob still was not feeling so hot. We wondered what it could be. We speculated about muscle pulls and strains. Bob went in search of muscle relaxant. When he got back, things were worse so we tried to figure out what to do. ER? We had had bad experiences waiting and we thought it might be pricey. The walk in clinic close to our house was closed by then. He decided to drive to another clinic about twenty minutes away.
Two hours later I got a call from the nurse at the clinic saying that Bob was being taken by ambulance to the hospital. Huh?! She informed me that he had had a spontaneous pneumothorax, although I had no idea what that meant. I rushed to get us ready to go to the hospital. I got us all outside when Lilli looked up at me and said, "mama, I need shoes."
I rushed to the hospital only to wait for another half an hour before Bob arrived. I will make a long story short by simply saying that he had quite the ordeal in the ER for six hours, where they inserted a chest tube to drain the fluid and air from around his left lung. A spontaneous pneumothorax you see (thank you internet) is when an air sac in your lung bursts, letting air out which in turn compresses the lung, leading to a collapsed lung. It seems to happen more in tall, thin men and there isn't necessarily any reason for its occurence. Hence "spontaneous." Anyway, after this he had to stay in the hospital for a couple of nights while the chest tube worked and his lung reinflated. He came home today and has to rest for about a week.
So! You can see we've had a bit of excitement. Now at least if we fail to send out Christmas cards or get you a Christmas present, we've got a good excuse for you! Ha!
But really, everyone in both our families has been so supportive and thoughtful and kind. Thank you so much to everybody. This little adventure has really brought into perspective for us how lucky we are to have each other and our families and friends, and how when you are stressed about something, things could always be worse. Even in this case, things could definitely have been worse. We are so thankful that Bob is going to be fine and that his stay in the hospital was actually pretty minimal. We are so grateful that our twins-to-be and Lilli are healthy. Hey, and even some of the spots on the slipcover came out. What are a few bloody looking sheets when compared to such a bounty of blessings, really?
We ARE worn out, however, and so: Happy Holidays to everyone! Here's hoping you have a wonderful, stressless, accident-free, lovely time with family and friends. Just watch out for incomptent medical professionals, crayons, and spontaneous pneumothoraces!
Actually, things didn't start out so bad this week. We've all been tired and grumpy and we whined our way through some Christmas shopping. Then I went to my weekly NST (a non-stress test in which they monitor the babies movements, heart rates and my contractions as a precautionary measure). At this NST, just as Bob and I were getting ready to leave and perhaps actually have time to eat lunch by ourselves, silly Baby B decided to go ahead and have her heart rate drop for a few seconds. We were thus thrust reluctantly back into our places for more monitoring. I, at least, was relatively calm, because everything thus far had been fine and I was sure it was just one of those things. But these hospitals don't like to leave these things unchecked. So after a doctor's appointment, off we went to get an ultrasound. We had to wait for over an hour, and then. . . . we had the ultrasound tech intern from hell. She was not only socially inept and failed to tell us that she was training, but she started the exam by looking for the placentas, failing to find them and then questioning me about their whereabouts.
Are you sure there are two of them in there? she asked.
What?? I responded. Do you mean babies or placentas?
Placentas, she replied. I can only see one!
Well, I'm sure there's two, I said. I've had several ultrasounds before this.
Well, did they happen to tell you where they might be?
HUH???? Bob and I were totally befuddled by her incompetence. All became clear when another woman walked in, asked how the tech was doing, and then proceeded to go through every step of the entire exam with her. Very tedious. Bob seethed. Then we had to wait hours for the results. We were at the hospital for over five hours, with minimal food. Twins must eat!
Event #2: I decided to wash the slipcover on our couch with a load of our best sheets. I failed to check the slipcover cracks for items. Red crayon made its way into the dryer. Chaos ensued. Has anyone else ever done this? It looked like we had tried to kill somebody on our couch and then stabbed them some more on our bed. Awful. And the inside of the dryer too. We read on the internet to use WD-40, dish soap, hot water and much scrubbing, but even after many washings with bleach, no luck. I really wanted to cry. All this was put into perspective however by Event #3. Read on . . .
Saturday we were going to start the day with some exciting dryer cleaning and spot treating. Bob, however, felt like he had pulled a muscle and had some chest pain, so he took a nap while Lilli and I went in search of dry cleaning solvent. (The slipcover must be salvaged!) When I came back, Bob still was not feeling so hot. We wondered what it could be. We speculated about muscle pulls and strains. Bob went in search of muscle relaxant. When he got back, things were worse so we tried to figure out what to do. ER? We had had bad experiences waiting and we thought it might be pricey. The walk in clinic close to our house was closed by then. He decided to drive to another clinic about twenty minutes away.
Two hours later I got a call from the nurse at the clinic saying that Bob was being taken by ambulance to the hospital. Huh?! She informed me that he had had a spontaneous pneumothorax, although I had no idea what that meant. I rushed to get us ready to go to the hospital. I got us all outside when Lilli looked up at me and said, "mama, I need shoes."
I rushed to the hospital only to wait for another half an hour before Bob arrived. I will make a long story short by simply saying that he had quite the ordeal in the ER for six hours, where they inserted a chest tube to drain the fluid and air from around his left lung. A spontaneous pneumothorax you see (thank you internet) is when an air sac in your lung bursts, letting air out which in turn compresses the lung, leading to a collapsed lung. It seems to happen more in tall, thin men and there isn't necessarily any reason for its occurence. Hence "spontaneous." Anyway, after this he had to stay in the hospital for a couple of nights while the chest tube worked and his lung reinflated. He came home today and has to rest for about a week.
So! You can see we've had a bit of excitement. Now at least if we fail to send out Christmas cards or get you a Christmas present, we've got a good excuse for you! Ha!
But really, everyone in both our families has been so supportive and thoughtful and kind. Thank you so much to everybody. This little adventure has really brought into perspective for us how lucky we are to have each other and our families and friends, and how when you are stressed about something, things could always be worse. Even in this case, things could definitely have been worse. We are so thankful that Bob is going to be fine and that his stay in the hospital was actually pretty minimal. We are so grateful that our twins-to-be and Lilli are healthy. Hey, and even some of the spots on the slipcover came out. What are a few bloody looking sheets when compared to such a bounty of blessings, really?
We ARE worn out, however, and so: Happy Holidays to everyone! Here's hoping you have a wonderful, stressless, accident-free, lovely time with family and friends. Just watch out for incomptent medical professionals, crayons, and spontaneous pneumothoraces!
posted by mariko at 9:40 PM
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