Archives for October 2004

Sunday, October 31, 2004 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

Happy birthday Addison!

Today is Addison’s birthday and he turns a whopping SEVENTEEN! No, I have no idea how it happened, but I am glad he made it. 😉 Last night we had a bit of a celebration, and so far he got:

– a heavy-duty backpack
– a travel guide to London because my aunt is taking him there sometime next year
– presumeably some money in the card that accidentally got left at my mom’s house.

Hmm, maybe part of my gift to him could be not washing him roughly when he has a smart mouth.

Sunday, October 31, 2004 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

Really, I did not make the following statement up

Meaghan may finally be over the trauma. Yesterday, my grandmother said to her, “Meaghan, you have a really cute butt. And you have a nice shape to you. Doesn’t she have a cute butt everyone?”

Now how can you answer that loaded question? It’s like asking me if you look fat in this dress. Can’t win either way.

Friday, October 29, 2004 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

Emergency Room Celebrity “A” List

Today’s adventure involved special treatment at the Emergency room. Okay, breathe, it wasn’t an emergency technically, just an infected pin site on Addison’s head. See, one of them got kinda bad and I cleaned it out yesterday and it was.. bad.

(You’re welcome for not grossing you out.)

Oh, but there was a funny bit there, in the cleaning out of the hole part, where he was laying on the kitchen floor because he can’t tip his head sideways and as I was pouring peroxide on his head, I asked him if he was uncomfortable. “Any more than usual?” which has become the standard answer.

So this morning I called the medical day clinic here, because we do not have a family doctor (whom we would rarely see anyway), and they suggested we head on over to Emergency. Which to me, was far preferrable than travelling for 1.5 hours (one way) to see a neurosurgeon for an infection.

We get to the Emergency room, and of course at 10am on a lovely crisp fall Friday morning, it is half-full. Usually, they do a quick assesment first, then triage you and send you off to make new friends in the waiting room.

But not us. Apparently a halo has privileges. Besides, said the nurse, she didn’t want to see Addison get the flu on top of all the other stuff he had to deal with. In taking down all his information, which includes retelling the whole story once more from the top, she tells Addison he must have an angel on his shoulder.

“Or a halo on my head!” Ba-dum-dum. She tells him that’s a good comeback. We wait in a dinky room, trying to figure out what each piece of equipment is for. Addison tried to stick his face on the eye-checker-microscope thingy (I’m sure there’s some snazzy techno-medico term) and discovers his frame holds his face about two inches away from *everything*.

We laugh once more over how funny it would have been had we actually made that appointment to get his eyes tested for glasses, and he moans how hard it would be to try and kiss his girlfried. If he had one.

A nurse sticks her head in to check on him and tell us she was on duty That Night. He shows off how much he can wiggle the fingers on his right hand. She is suitably impressed. I kick myself once again for not getting it down on video while he was in hospital, just so we could compare.

A few minutes later, a pair of nurses stick their heads in. Really, they can only stick their heads in the doorway because the room is meant for two people, and it already has two in it. “We were going to stop,” they tell us. They drove by the accident scene, wondering if they should stop because they are nurses and somewhat obligated, but realized he had enough help what with the ambulance practically behind them, people milling all over and traffic backed up in both lanes. “And I could see someone holding your head straight, ” says one, nodding and smiling. I relate to them the Backpack Story, and they ooh. Addison wiggles his fingers and they ahhh.

Another nurse stops by, and I hear someone else behind her saying that if she was in there looking, she might as well take a swab. So she did.

Finally, the doctor comes in and tell us he figures we’ve been told how luck Addison is about a hundred times already, and could I, once more, relate exactly what happend? We point out the infected pin site, which he can see from a distance, despite the fact it is almost behind Addison’s ear and almost covered by a strap of metal. He tells me he really doesn’t want to touch anything and goes to call the neurosurgeon.

I joke with Addison, saying I have just saved five bucks on a phone call and a secretarial run-around.

The neurosurgeon, whom I keep calling Dr. Courderoy, asks the doctor all the things I expect, which is why I related to the doctor things he didn’t quite understand but I knew he needed to know anyway. We could hear the phone conversation from where we were. When the doctor comes back, he tells us what I figured he would but was somewhat relieved to hear anyway. And in a go-figure tone says, “Hey! The first thing he asked me was if his pin was loose!” If it was, I would have gone to see the other guy already, cuz that’s a Big Deal.

Take some antibiotic pills, here’s some cream, and go see the neurosurgeon next week for a quick look before your other appointment in three weeks.

As we are leaving, we walk past all the people still waiting. They try not to stare too pointedly. The nurses wave and smile.

Later, after I drive back and forth across town two more times, I bring Addison back for physio. Laureen is in love with Addison. “You’re such a handsome guy!” she tells him, “So sit up straight!” She really does speak with exclamation points. “I’m really nervous when I see someone new coming in with traction, because you just never now, but Addison, you’re doing so well and have such a good attitude, I can see you being one hundred percent back to normal! We’re gonna get along great!” And she hugs him.

When we leave, Addison and I both decide we need to go home and take a nap.

Thursday, October 28, 2004 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

Stuff to blog about

Just keeping a list for me, and a preview for you.

– shopping last Saturday at Zellers, the toilet paper that was on sale and how people were lined up and fighting for it like it was Dec. 23rd. “You stood in line for this?” said the cashier. The crazy lady at the grocery store.

– the lady who followed me home from the post office, dressed all in black with a long flowing trenchcoat

– get together all the cards & stuff Addison got, add them & take a picture. We’re still getting some. Include public thank-yous.

– the clock that Carl gave Sarah

– Emma & the peanut butter and how work at home, homeschooling and being a SAHM all collide on some days to make really pretty fireworks

– 2 birthdays coming up

– My mom’s parents are coming up this weekend. Should be lots of stories to tell there, and I did mention to my mom that maybe they’d better not get the Internet at their place becuase they are the only family I have left to make fun of in my blog. And it’s so easy. (But I’ve never made fun of you, I love you!) Remember to tell the story of Nanny, matresses on the floor and dust mites. Plus alka-seltzer.

– Halloween. How the girls are playing trick-or-treat and getting Emma to knock on bedroom doors to get things like oranges and bananas and hairbrushes. “But it’s not halloween yet!” Emma wailed. How we are going to let them pick out their own candy, visit maybe half a dozen houses, then divvy up what we bought ourselves, cutting out a lot of that inefficient door-to-door stuff.

– Emma’s birthday conversations. A heads up to Carol, whom I keep forgetting to email. Emma is totally convinced Christina is coming to her party, date undetermined. It’ll be Dora themed, as Emma keeps reminding me. Daily.

– how much time our homeschooling takes, kinda like Kim. How the girls are studying Africa, and what I found when I checked on them gabbing in Sarah’s room the other day.

– Addison getting back to schoolwork, his old job and stack of job apps he has, how Radio Shack made him cry, and how we were all in his room the other day when he said, “Okay, please leave, I have to invade North Korea now.” Include pic.

If I forgot anything else, I’m sure my mom will phone me up and remind me. At length and loudly.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004 in I Forgot To Pick A Category


Just really, really busy. 🙁

Tuesday, October 26, 2004 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

Physio at 8am

Boy, it sure is dark in the wee hours. Who at the hospital thought it would be a good idea to schedule new patients for physio at 8am? Apparently it’s policy. We got the grand tour of the place, the equipment, and Addison got tortured worked on while I drove Ron to work.

Even he was bleary-eyed.

And it’s a good thing Mis. Chatterbox wrote stuff down, because my brain could harldy keep up with the conversation, let alone remember instructions.

“Now, let’s move your arm down like this, press against me now, don’t let me move it back. There, now do it again, five times now. You can do it! Look at the faces! See? Help him do this part, you may have to hurt him but it’s okay. Now where did I put that? I just have to go get it, isn’t it a gorgeous day outside? How many other children did you say you had”

And then she’d leave the room. “I think,” I said to Addison cautiously, “we have just seen what Sarah will be like when she’s older.” Just his eyes moved to the doorway. “Cool. Kinda scary, but cool.”

Addison was a popular guy in that department, people wandering by just to look in. One lady, no idea who she was, stopped and had a long conversation with us, gettting us to recount one more time every single detail of the accident. (Is it bad enough that every time we drive down the road, Addison goes, “Here it comes.. almost.. THERE! Right there’s the spot!” As if we could forget.)

And not just accident details, there are the requisite halo questions. Does it hurt? Do they stick right in your head? Does it come off at night? How did you get your shirt on? How long are you wearing that for anyway? Does your neck hurt?

(And the answers are: Not really it’s kinda numb, yes but just a pinpoint through the skin not the bone, uh – no or my head will fall over, very carefully one sleeve at a time my mom helps, probably till Christmas, no but my shoulders are killin’ me.)

The physiotherapist (I’m getting really good at spelling that quickly) said she was pleased with his mobility and the level of nerve sensation. She feels that almost all, if not all of it will come back. And his right arm is 1/4″ smaller, did I know that? No, I did not but he lost so much weight I’m not surprised. He’s gaining it back pretty fast, though, and that’s a good thing.

She went on a lot about how God has His own way of dealing with theese things and what a great design He made! Well, yeah I agree, I was a little surprised she said so. So many people have to watch what they say these days.

It has been terribly fascinating to figure out how the nerves and bones and things are all linked and what they run. The hand & arms nerves are controlled out of two sections of vertebra, one of which Addison damaged more than the other, so it is really interesting to see just sections of his arm and hand have problems, and how two fingers move more easily than the other two. Even varying sensation on parts of his skin, like how cold water pains like hot does.

But how wonderful to see his progress. I know he lays up his his room, too tired & sore to do much, and still he works his fingers and arm muscles, over and over again.

Now he has real concrete goals to work towards, exercises every day at home and physio twice a week. He even planned to start back at his schoolwork yesterday. He got as far as cleaning off and sorting out his desk, then he had to lie down.

He’s in bed again now, what with having to get up so early and then work his muscles and nerves till they screamed “HEY!”. But I think it’s a good tired, like when he went out playing cards with his buddies on Friday night.

They hadn’t expected to see him so soon, I guess, and he said things were a littlw awkward until people figured out what they could say and how they could treat him. Like our company said on Saturday, “You’re the same ol’ Addison under all that metal!” Yeah, he is. What a sense of humour. He told us the best part of getting out on Friday night was the cripple jokes.

When the card shop owner was helping him get his coat on, he thanked him for coming out and then said, “My radio came in real good with you here.” Addison was tired & sore then, too, having to figure out how to hold and even shuffle his cards, but like this morning, I think it’s a good tired.

And when we left physio this morning, he got his coat on all by himself.