Versailles!

From Christmas lights 2009

So... we have this theory: Evelyn Anders is a miserable lady because she was never named Miss Chick at Poultry Days. What do you think?

In a high school class of 119, there is no great honor in winning Homecoming Queen. Who was she competing with? Evelyn Anders needed a win from a larger pool. Miss Chick? Everyone would say she had the hometown advantage. She cast her view more widely.

She flat-out refused to consider even entering the queen pageant for the Eaton Pork Festival. Miss Piggy? Queen Sow? Similarly, she ruled out Bradford’s Pumpkin Show- too easy for the comments to turn ghastly.

Annie Oakley Days. Only at the last minute did Evelyn understand that SHOOTING was part of a winning package… and that didn’t include shooting the team that was setting up the next target. Eliminated.

Minster’s Oktoberfest. Her place in the finalist group was snatched away thanks to some unspeakable accident involving massive quantities of beer.

Nearing the end of senior year came the big county-wide senior dance at Rossburg Chevrolet: The Rossburg-a-go-go. Certain she would win, Evelyn was crushed when a ballot box stuffing scandal (her words, not mine) awarded the price to the bitch (her words, not mine)from Russia. No prize. No tiara. No Chevette.

So, Evelyn deigned to enter the Miss Chick Contest. Designed her poultry themed dress. Practiced her wave. Arranged with her uncle, the squirrelly one, to borrow his convertible. And………

Maybe she won. (Still it was a year with a lot of hate and the win a cheap, no pun intended, hometown honor. Everyone said that!)

Then, again, maybe her crown was pulled at the last minute when it was revealed that she was far too closely related to the very vociferous group of radical vegans who were at the time of the crowing, defacing the world’s largest omelet.

**

50 Reasons I Love You #1

You were born! (And thus Love entered the world (again) and, eventually, my life.) Happy 50th Birthday!

The Size of Babies.

From Zuperfliegen

While describing a photo of Zuperfliegen, my friend Christine recently made a comment that I've heard before...something to the effect that she'd forgotten how small newborns are. I suppose in 6 months or 2 years or a decade, I might feel the same way. Right now I'm struck by how BIG he is. All of THAT was inside ME?

I found this statistic on the adhesive protector from a sanitary napkin: "When a woman is pregnant, her uterus expands to 500 times its normal size." (See photo from March 30 - you'll be convinced.)

And, while Zupe at birth weighed only about 6% of my weight, he was over 34% as tall as I am! Of course, that 54 centimeters wasn't stretched out in my abdomen, but curled up in what is so appropriately called The Fetal Position. In the photo above Zupe is a bit more than 1 week old. He's actually lighter than he was at birth - so this is mini-Zupe.

I knew that and I knew he was head down for the last 4 to 6 weeks. But, it wasn't until he was born and I was looking at his body that I understood that the "foot" I was always shifting off my midline was more likely a knee. I never even considered that I was being "elbowed" by elbows and knees. I was only thinking about hands and feet (while still puzzling over why his feet would be so low - just under my umbilicus. Perhaps I spend too much time looking at and thinking about dog feet?)

OMG - this is so funny - I just looked at that photo and thought, wow! he was so little. That didn't take long!

Zuperfliegen: Held Hostage

From Zuperfliegen

Let's see. This post should be dated April 15 - Happy 1 week old, Zupe!

We were supposed to be discharged from the hospital on Day 5 - April 13. My obstetrician came by and signed me out and then Zupe's pediatrician came in and did the same. The midwife staff, like Kevin and me, was concerned that there was something not right about Zupe. We discussed the possibility of getting a second opinion.

About that time the ped came back in to recheck Zupe. He wasn't so happy "about his color". He did a second physical exam and ordered some tests: a CBC, pulse oxymetry (measuring oxygen saturation of his blood), and blood gas analysis (oxygen, carbon dioxide, pH...). I watched the saturation values on the screen. His average was in the mid to low 90's. I wouldn't have been happy with those values if he'd been my patient - but I only measure saturation routinely during surgery when my patient is inhaling 100% O2 (well, except for the bit that is isoflurane). The nurse wasn't overly concerned. The ped. wasn't either. Nor was he bothered about the lower than normal O2 and higher than normal CO2 on the blood gas - but he did call in for a Respiratory Consult. (That is Resp- ear- a - tory with the accent on EAR.)

Those doctors were concerned and requested that Zupe spend the night in the Special Care Nursery getting an overnight saturation study that would be analyzed in the morning. And, so, we spend an extra night.

Then, Zupe spends an extra 15 nights.

He had a chest xray, a cardiac ultrasound, a brain ultrasound and numerous blood gas studies. Everything was normal with the exception of the blood gas studies that were done when he was NOT receiving supplemental oxygen.

My observation which I shared with the respEARatory doctors on their first visit to the Special Care Nursery was that his oxygen was good (98% or more) when he was awake and feeding, less when quiet and awake and damn scary (mid 80's) when deeply asleep. Still, it took almost 2 weeks and both the ped and them saying that everything looked OK, until he had a "Sleep Study".

SLEEP STUDY: Photo see below "Onion Head" April 27 post.
Lots of wires and probes and sticky pads. It is a wonder anyone can sleep. During the study a continuous stream of data are collected for later analysis: EEG, ECG, oxygen saturation, chest excursions... Initially this is done while the patient receives oxygen (at the level they've "been on" - for Zupe that was 100 ml.) Then, the oxygen is turned off and this data collection continues. Then, well, then, if you're Zupe, you scare the nursing team so badly they crank up the oxygen a mere 7 minutes later to 250 ml!

So, by the next morning (Thurs 21 of April) the gods have spoken and the word is "Zupe needs to go home on continuous oxygen therapy at 250 mls." Also, that "It will take 24 hours to complete the necessary paperwork and then up to 3 days to get the oxygen in place in your home so he can be released." And, "Hey, tomorrow is Good Friday and this year Anzac Day falls on the Easter weekend so no one will be able to even START the paperwork until NEXT WEEK Wednesday."

An earlier enquiry of the sleep study nurses suggested that once oxygen is requested it takes 3 days to get delivery.

Thinking here: request filed on Wednesday. Plus 3 days: Thursday, Friday, Saturday.

"Will oxygen be delivered on a weekend?"

"No."

And, that following weekend is ANOTHER holiday weekend - Labour Day - so that would set us up for delivery on the NEXT TUESDAY!!!!!

Because you are living in a non sequential universe, you know that we got delivery in 1 day and brought Zupe home on Friday.

"FREE AT LAST! FREE AT LAST! THANK GOD, ALMIGHTY, WE'RE FREE AT LAST" (With acknowledgment to MLK.)

Once home, we removed our "bands of solidarity".

(Photo above...taken when we first learned we'd be in for a long haul in the SCN.)

Water expires precisely in Qld

From Singles 2011

Maybe because it came from the hospital, but can you imagine that this water is "good" until a specific MINUTE in 2012. Sort of makes me wish I had kept it unopened so I could watch what would happen on July 1st at 5:16 PM. Does it turn color? Is there a puff of smoke? Does it bubble? or, do you just curl up your toes and die if you drink it?

Recorded from a bus in Brisbane

Really. I can't make stuff up this good.

SPITTING IS UNACCEPTABLE.
Bus operators are now equipped with DNA kits to assist with the apprehension of offenders.

How is it possible that I resisted the urge to spit? Do you think the driver slams on the breaks? Then, marches down the aisle swabbing the buccal mucosa of each potential spitting passenger?

Spitting is gross - but could this be over-reacting? How often is spitting an issue? Will the fines pay for the cost of buying the equipment for each bus?

Oh, and on an unrelated topic - yet still a sign. This time in the hospital.

Abusive behavio(u)r will not be tolerated - including "excessive intoxication".

Good to know that "just right intoxication" will not be a problem.

Reading to Zuperfliegen

From Singles 2011

Let me begin by saying that I love Kevin. Sometimes, well, rather commonly, we have different ideas about things. For example, I think we should read children's books to Zupe and Kevin - well, Kevin thinks he doesn't understand anything yet, so we should just read OUR books to him.

A rather unromantic idea - but I can understand his logic. So, since I've been struggling to finish Joyce Carol Oates' "Little Bird of Heaven", I picked it up and read to Zupe after his lunch. I had only a page and a half to finish a chapter. I won't put it all here, just a sample.

"In these last staggering minutes of his life my father did not speak, he did not speak to me as if in the urgency of the moment he'd forgotten me, a kind of oblivion had washed over his soul, his hard-as-steel soul and he'd forgotten me, he'd forgotten his wife whom he had so desperately summoned to his side. He'd forgotten his family, his life that had gone bad. For it was his secret knowledge that death is easy, death is so much easier than life. ..I saw Daddy crouching, his shoulders hunched and his head lowered, now his face was turned from me and I could not see if he was smiling, I would never see Daddy's face again and must surrender him now, in his shaky right hand the revolver to be identified in the media as a .38-caliber Smith & Wesson in the illegal possession of Edward Diehl, I saw Daddy step confidently into that blinding light and lift this gun as if about to fire it in a seemingly spontaneous mocking gesture that would be the final gesture of his life."

I don't think it was a good idea.

Attention: We are leaving the linear time line.

I've been gone for a while: weeks if not months. For my own reasons, I want to catch up here. I want to maintain a record of some of my thoughts and experiences. I imagine they won't be particularly meaningful for anyone but myself - and maybe Kevin. And, maybe Zupe, should he ever learn to read and is bored enough to wonder what his parents were up to at the dawn of time. There is some very, very, very small chance that after I catch up - assuming I catch up - I will go back and order these posts.

Yeah. Like that's going to happen.

The Zupe-bird has landed!!

From Zuperfliegen

Defying predictions of another weekend in the hospital, oxygen was arranged and Zuperfliegen came home on Friday!


Finally we are ALL at home! We were concerned that it wouldn't happen until next week . "Tues the 3rd at the earliest"- we were warned on Wednesday of last week. But, we got the paperwork done by Thursday morning and the magic woman at the hospital along with her secret contact at the social agency in charge of the "health card" program pushed everything through so we could get our oxygen and bring him home on Friday.

From Zuperfliegen

Zelda was VERY excited about Zupe. I was a little nervous about how desperately she wanted to get up on the bed so she could inspect him. (Throwing herself up onto the bed which for at least the last 6 months has been too high a jump for her. She made it - without first landing on her back.) I knew she wouldn't bite him - but I thought she might paw at him, scratch him. Because I was getting so anxious, Kevin said he'd take Zelda out for a walk while I fed the baby. She walked for about 2 blocks then turned around. Kevin thought she needed to sniff something she had passed, but she didn't stop. In fact, once she was within sight of the house - she ran! She ran for the a block - pulling Kevin along!

Zupe is on oxygen all the time. He'll have additional sleep studies every 12 weeks. In the history of the sleep clinic, they've only had 1 infant go off oxygen at 3 months. The best case scenario is he'll change to only night-time oxygen at 3 months and then come off at 6 months. Most babies are on oxygen for 9 to 12 months. (I hope he's off as soon as possible, obviously - especially before he decides he wants to be mobile - or start smoking. Damn these baadasssss babies.)

For a full account of Zupe's arrival and subsequent incarceration, I mean, hospitalization, please see my husband's blog, here.

Still singing to Zupe

Welcome here from outer space
The Milky Way is still in your eyes
You found yourself a hopeless case
One that's seeking perfection on earth
That's some kind of rebirth, so

Geeking out with the Zupe

Zupe as Talosian (ala the original, is there any other?, "Star Trek").

From Zuperfliegen

From Zuperfliegen

Zupe waiting for carousel. We're hoping for renewal! ("Logan's Run")

From Zuperfliegen

ESP study subject.

From Zuperfliegen

Onion head. (I thought this was pretty cute and so you may see something similar come Halloween. We hope the oxygen will be gone about then, too!)

From Zuperfliegen

A Plague of Frogs

From Singles 2011

I've been so busy and blog entries so few (well, none lately) that you'll easily remember this guy.

He is not alone.

We never managed to capture this frog. He disappeared up under the rim of the toilet and we couldn't dislodge him or even find him. That was several weeks ago.

Then came Zuperfliegen.

Kevin stayed with us in the hospital for the first nights. (I was there for 6 nights and Zupe is STILL there -going on week 3 now.) Kevin went home for a couple of nights during my stay to visit with Zelda. On the first of these nights he saw something dark on the floor of the kitchen. "A leaf", he thought. Then, it moved. Light revealed it to be a(nother?) tree frog. He trapped it and carried it to the opposite end of our block and released it.

On Thursday 14th I came home and found another frog in the toilet. It ducked up under the rim before I had the chance to don my frog-catching, pink rubber gloves - let alone call Kevin to see or find my camera.

The next night, I saw a dark shape hopping through the kitchen. I topped him with a plastic take-out container weighted with a not-heavy-enough frog-weight with the intention of taking a photograph once morning came. As you've guessed from my subtle foreshadowing, in the morning the container was empty. I'm not sure if was dislodged by super-frog strength or if he had some assistance, maybe from a certain black dog or more likely the fish stealing monster that lives in my kitchen. (Two more fish went missing during the time I was in the hospital.) Anyway, no frog... no frog photo.

Before we had a chance to leave for the hospital that morning, we did find a dead dried frog in Kevin's office.

So, that's somewhere between 2 and a gazillion frogs in our house. And, it can only mean one thing.

It's Zupe.

I'm not sure if he is the second coming. He's not saying. No wise men...yet. But, he WAS an immaculate conception.

What am I going to do with all this myrrh?

I hope you never change.....

For Zupe - with love from mom and dad.

This one's for you, Zupe

He's Here! He's Here!

From Zuperfliegen

Announcing the arrival of Zuperfliegen "Baadasssss" O'Brien !

Weighing in at 3340 grams (about 7 pounds 6 oz)
and measuring 54 cm (21.3)
with official birthdate of April 1, March 39, and April 8.

We are all well and struggling with lame laptop. Kevin gets kudos for typing a complete report!

Bad Blood.

From Singles 2011

"I'll tell you what, Emmet, reading the Bible for the fuckin' parts is not really reading the Bible."

I've been reading a lot of thrillers, mystery, detective stories lately - but nothing in the prose has given me much reason to pause. This is not to say there haven't been some great page turners.

This line, however, made me smile.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

Here it is March 37th. How many days can there be in March??

So, while we wait, we run around the city doing things we enjoy and things we figure it might be a while before we can do again - at least with the relative ease we've been used to. Saturday playing cards at the home of friends, Sunday: GOMA, Monday: movie ("Rango" - that's a whole 'nother story - let me just say quickly, do not be fooled by 3 dollar tickets... they are no bargain), Tuesday: see doctor - wait, that wasn't particularly fun, Wed: today - Gallery of Art. Maybe. It is the plan, at least.

In the meantime, I expand. Leaving me with only one piercing question:

Does this black light make me look fat?

From Singles 2011

Uninvited guest

From Singles 2011

In my opinion, I have way too many blog posts about our toilet...primarily because it is always being overrun with creepy crawlies.

All I can say now, is thank god it wasn't a snake or rat.

Yet.

And, you should know, despite our best frog catching pink rubber gloves, we didn't nab him. We don't really know how he got in there - and so we aren't surprised to say we don't know where he's gone to now.

Maybe he's been eating my fish....

From Singles 2011

Look who's blooming: Mt. Cootha

Spending my non-nap time doing things I love - including strolling through the gardens on Mt. Coot-tha with my camera.

Today I learned that camellias and azaleas bloom in Brisbane in April (fall). I will never figure out this world! Are they early? or late? or just different varieties??

My favorite, though, because even I can grow them here, are the sages. I've grown sage since I lived in NC. They're happy ANYWHERE.

Except, it would appear in the above slideshow.

Dreaming

My recent change in shape has inspired many associated alterations. I can no longer reach the back row of glasses on the upper shelves in the kitchen, it takes a concerted effort involving arms, hands, and legs to get up from a squat on the floor - say to auscultate a German Shepard, my legs are shaved in irregular patches and I can only sleep in fits a starts. Getting to sleep, at least initially at night, is easy. But, then I'm up every 30 min or 60 or 120, if I've very lucky, in order to address the pressure of next to nothing in my bladder or just because I want to roll from left to right and, like a turtle, the weight in the middle of this transition requires considerable flailing.

The consequence of all this fractured sleep, beyond my mid morning and sometimes mid afternoon nap, is I'm very aware of my dreams. For the most part they are dreams of struggling, rejections, and anxiety - as restful as my general sleep pattern. This morning, however, I was inspired. I dreamed "Glee" was doing a salute to Laurie Anderson.



Ah, what other wonders will this day reveal?! We have reached our day of expectation!

Happy April Fools!