Asthma is Serious!

I process better by writing, and I definitely have a lot to process from the last 24 hours. 

Caed was diagnosed with asthma shortly before turning 1.  In fact, we were in the hospital on Easter weekend 2009 because of asthma related symptoms. Caed must like holidays in the peds ward...but who could blame him?  They bombard him with gifts while he's there!  This time, he walked away with a Santa teddy bear, a bag full of firemen and military men toys, a book, a quilt, a bunch of Thomas stickers and a new neb mask! 

Yesterday was supposed to be our annual fun, family trip to the mall to ride the train.  Caed had been coughing since Wednesday and even had a small episode on the way home from the grocery store.  After a treatment of his rescue meds, he was back to his normal self except for the coughing.  But he seemed to be his normal, active self. I mean I found him on top of the washing machine preparing to jump off...surely he's fine, right?  PJ and I even went over his Asthma Treatment Plan over dinner. One of the indicators for seeking medical help is if he's unable to do normal activities...but clearly he was able...so we dismissed it.

I decided to give him a regular neb treatment before leaving for the mall because of his coughing.  He is so very good about sitting with his mask on his face for treatments.  But about one minute after starting this treatment, he started wheezing, coughing, crying and doubling over in pain.  Saying his belly hurt he could not get comfortable.  He turned very pale, then blue around the lips.

We live pretty far out, and our only rescue unit comes from a town about 20 mins down the road.  The last time we called 911, the EMT advised us to never wait at home, jump in the car, head towards the hospital and call 911 on the way so that an ambulance can meet us in route.  So that's what we did. 

There are some images in a parents mind, that I think will haunt forever.  This is one of those images.  The sight of my child crying out my name, then stopping short and pulling in his lips, with fear in his eyes as he tries with all his might to suck in air only to scream my name again...So glad PJ was driving.  The rain was causing traffic to move so slowly and this wretched car in front of us would not pull over despite our flashers and attempts to signal by flashing our high beams at them.  It took much longer than it should have to reach the ambulance waiting for us in Rustburg. Finally the car in front of us pulled over right in front of the lot where the technicians were waiting.  Thanks!

So much rain.  So much fear. Ugh!  Caed's oxygen level upon arriving into the ambulance was 79. It should be 95-99.  He was lethargic, disoriented and pale. Another memory, I'll not soon forget, especially when he reached for my hand and held on tight.  I'm so thankful for "Mr. Justin" the EMT that moved quickly to treat and also keep Caed and his insane mommy calm for the duration of the trip to the hospital. 

By the time we arrived at the hospital, Caed was talking and asking Mr. Justin to drive him on the fire truck some day. Upon entering the ER, immediately the nurses fell in love with my little blue-eyed boy. He looked so small on that huge stretcher and was telling everyone that would listen about Christmas and Lightening McQueen and his future fire truck ride with Mr. Justin.  Otherwise, the ER was the ER: a painfully long wait, especially with an exhausted 2 and 4 year old. 

Around 11pm the doctor decided to discharge us. But as we were preparing to sign the paperwork, I noticed that Caed was still breathing with his belly and had significant retraction (that's where you can see the skin pulling around the ribs).  The doctor was puzzled because all other vitals were fine.  So then we were given the option of admitting him with an advisory from the doctor to do so because of our home's distance from the hospital should something happen in the middle of the night.  I hate that moment when you just. don't. know. what the right thing to do really is. What was best? Was it really necessary?

So we decided to admit and thus create another 1.5 hour wait for ourselves in the ER.  At this point, I really really really wish I had a video camera available so as to show you what we experienced with our children. Caedmon, by this time, had had several breathing treatments and two doses of a steroid. To say he was hyper is a major understatement.  He was literally bouncing all over the bed and talking nonstop: some of it was detectable, some was another form of language yet to be discovered.  And Abby. Dear, sweet, patient Abby (who by the way, figured out how to get food, drinks, a teddy bear and a coloring book from the nurse just by smiling at her as she walked by.)  I'm almost sure that Abby experienced temporary insanity induced by  exhaustion because she carried on a detailed, two-sided conversation with herself for almost 20 mins. She very clearly was taking on the role of two people and even told us that she was talking with the voices in her head.  I'll just leave it at that for now!

Finally we arrived in our room in the new, AMAZING!, peds ward at Lynchburg General.  The nursing staff there is absolutely fantastic!  They were generous to my boy that was now leaping from one piece of furniture to the next, assuring me that he wasn't possessed but was reacting to the large amount of steroids in his system. The way they cared for Caed, and secured his attention amazed and inspired me!  I do have to say that they were very impressed with his willingness to cooperate.  I was extremely thankful that I spent extra time this week praying about and working on being consistent with his obedience.  Character development: check! 

So the night consisted of meds and every hour waking (for momma!) from nurses to see how he is doing.  The intake nurse called it 23 hour Observation Care in our paper work (supposedly that makes it cheaper for us in the billing cycle! I REALLY hope that's the case).

So what I've learned about asthma:
It's real. And it's serious!  Honestly, Caed has been doing so well throughout the fall that I let my guard down and didn't take his symptoms seriously enough.  Partly because I didn't have a full understanding of how asthma works.  A person can be fine in the morning and experience a trigger and struggle the rest of the day.  Also, a person may seem fine in activity level, but really tightening of the airways is going on inside.  In Caed's case, excessive coughing is an indicator of need for rescue meds even if he's as active as normal.  Now I know!

I also didn't have a clear understanding of how to use his meds appropriately. I didn't understand how his long term and his rescue meds should be working together for effective treatment. And being afraid of over medicating, I actually was under medicating. Yes, there's mommy guilt there for me.

Now we have a much more clear Asthma Action Plan.  I know what to look for, and how to respond. I plan to keep a trigger journal to keep track of information (because, really, they asked me SO many questions about when things happened and what triggered it and how many doses I've given. I was lost...it would have been much easier and helpful to have it all documented to begin with.)  And hopefully, hopefully we can stay out of the ER from now on.

One cute side note.  As Caed and I ate our lunch together this afternoon this was his heartwarming prayer after singing the "Open-Shut Them" song he learned at church: "Dear God, Tank you for Mommy, for Abby, for me and for Daddy.  Tank you for Baby Jesus and Jesus and God. Amen!"

The only thing my little guy could talk about in the hospital today was going to ride the trains at the mall.  So, yes, we left the hospital and went straight to the mall for our annual ride!  His smile was incredible! 

Redeemed!

God has been teaching me SO very much about His love for me.  I've been searching for a symbolic piece of jewelery to wear to remind myself of His love and His power in my life.  It had to be something special, but most of all I wanted it to reflect the beauty of HIM in my life, His active presence with me.

I have so many things in my past that I thought were insurmountable.  I have experienced things that have created a bondage which I assumed could never be broken and would be life-long. Perhaps some day, I will have the courage to share those things here.  But for now, it's enough to say that I was walking through life with a very noticeable limp.

But God recently freed me from one aspect of this bondage.  And I want to remember it forever.  He's been showing me so much about His redemptive love which not only restores but also uses my brokenness.

My husband recently attended an apologetics conference in North Carolina and he brought back a bracelet which has captured my heart. It has become to me, a perfect representation of what Jesus has done in my life.

This beautiful bracelet was sold by a ministry called Rahab's Rope.  Rahab's Rope seeks to help women and girls who have been forced into the sex trade in India.  These ladies can come to RR and experience safety and the love of Jesus.  Here, a woman is given an opportunity for education and is taught a trade in order to provide a living for herself. 

This bracelet was created by a woman at Rahab's Rope. It is made from pieces of broken glass bangle bracelets, popular among Indian women and girls.  What a beautiful picture!  Glass bangles that were worn and broken, tossed to the side, forgotten, seen as useless and worthless have now been transformed into art.  Each bracelet is different, with its own set of stories and its own tragedies.  But the pieces come together to form a thing of beauty.  Think for a minute about the women who have worn these bracelets.  If those bangles could talk, would they share horrific stories?  Would they tell of hours in worship of false gods? How many tears and laughs have they experienced? How did it get broken?  The history behind each bangle is just as unique as the stories of each woman at Rahab's Rope...just as unique as my story and your story.

The thing I love about it is that you can still see the broken pieces!  The Bible says, "Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away, the new has come." 2 Corinthians 5:17.  I have spent so many years trying to hide my past thinking that would be the way in which I would be a new creation.  But one thing I've learned from the Daniel Bible study by Beth Moore, is that He doesn't want to wipe away my past. He wants to use it for greater things in my future. He has redeemed my past. He has a unique purpose in that redemption.  As with this bracelet, the broken pieces, when sealed together, make for a breathtaking piece of beauty. 

The description of this bracelet on the website is "a recycling project with stunning results", but I rather prefer the phrase, "a redeemed project with stunning results."  That's how I want Jesus to describe me!

Our First Coconut Experience

There's a first time for everything. Personally I hate coconut. I hate the smell, the taste, the texture.  But when Abby spotted a "real coconut" in the grocery store...how could her Daddy resist?

Have you ever opened a coconut?  I had NO CLUE how to get into that bad boy.  So this was our fun project in school today.  The kids were totally enamored with the brown ball!

First, we "researched" the process on Youtube:

Realizing it was a bigger job than I wanted to get into, I employed the help of Dear Hubby. I'm so glad he works from home! Um. Yeah. So we do not own a corkscrew...so we had to use a bbq skewer to poke the first hole.  PJ then used a butter knife to make the hole larger.

During this entire process we tried many things and Abby kept saying, "I don't think this is a good idea..."  She tends to be the cautious one in our family. :)

Next, we let the coconut milk or watery-substance drain into the glass.  It was actually very dirty, so we later used a coffee filter to clean out some of the "juice" for tasting.

PJ then beat the outer shell with a can opener.  The guy in the video used the handle of a butter knife. We did this too...and broke our knife. :(   So the can opener was the next logical option.  It was loud.
VERY loud.

But it worked! I love Abby's initial response!

 

Abby loved it! And she and PJ carved out much of the coconut and ate it.

Caedmon and I are like-minded when it comes to coconut preferences.  I tried it and think I'll pass. 

On Becoming Holy

A friend, Brittany, posted an article on her Facebook wall recently that has captured me, and is changing, the way I view relationships in my life.

You can read the full article here: Her.meneutics. Honestly, I only skimmed it briefly, but this one little truth etched itself into my brain and as I lay in bed this morning in between hitting the snooze button, God began transforming my view on the relationships and roles in my life.  I feel like I'm developing a new lens from which to see my world.

My paradigm shift came from this little sentence taken from the subtitle of a book by Gary Thomas:

“What if God designed marriage to make us holy more than to make us happy?”

What a thought!  What if God has, in His mercy, allowed certain events and relationships into my life as a tool to make me holy as He is holy?  Certainly many of these things also make me happy but happiness is not the supreme goal.  Becoming more like Christ is the goal, and in that I find joy.

Ha!  I love this because I can see it so plainly now!

In my marriage, through my growing relationship with my husband, God has taught me about forgiveness: the importance of asking for it and of giving it.  God has allowed me to experience wholeness in sexuality where brokenness and distortion nearly destroyed me.  God has given me a great friend through my husband that knows me better than I know myself at times and a teacher that helps me understand God's Word.

As a mother, God has taught me to trust Him more fully.  There is nothing in this world that creates more fear in my heart than something harmful happening to one of my children.  It's a daily surrendering of my fears and choosing to trust Him because He is good.  God has taught me the importance of consistency.  I want to impact my kids in healthy ways...who else, other than your kids, gives you a day-to-day, hour-to-hour audience?  They see me when I wake with bed-head, then through several emotions all day long until I fall into bed at night.  In learning to be consistent with them, my walk with the Lord has become more  consistent.

In friendships, He has taught me the importance of integrity, saying (and hearing) the hard things, and service.  How many times I've been blessed by a friend because they have laid down their own desires or plans for the day to help me with food, or cleaning or even a listening ear. Through friendships,  I have learned how to love others as I love myself.

Even through homeschooling my children, I'm learning the importance of honoring God with my mind and my intellect.  I'm learning about administering grace to the least of these in my home and in turn receiving it because I am so totally unworthy of it.   And to do so with joy.

This is such an amazing shift for me. My life is not so much about being a romantic comedy with a happy ending so much as it is about a divine passion of redemption of my soul!

"For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in [me] will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus."  Philippians 1:6

A Dream Come True!

It's been a long, rough couple of weeks for me, ya'll.

My dear hubby suggested that I take some time to myself while he watches the kidlets.  It took me about...oh...2.5 seconds to decide what I wanted to do:

The only thing this pregnant lady wants is to sleep-in.  I wanted to sleep under fluffy, soft blankets with the room chilly and to be uninterrupted until my own body told me to get up. 

It. Was. Heavenly.

I did not emerge from my cocoon of heaven until:

Amazing, isn't it? Sure beats the 2AM puke duty or the 6:30AM up-for-the-day daily duty.

And this is how I was greeted:

Breakfast in bed!  I feel totally loved and cherished today!  Thank you, family, for a day of rest!!

A final pic of my hubby's yummy, perfect omelets!

Yes, kids do LIVE here.

I've been living in a fantasy world for a few weeks.  It goes a little something like this: my world is perfect. My kids are always clean, and always put away their toys.  Dishes never clutter the sink.  The beds are always made. Even the dog doesn't shed...but if she does, I vacuum the hair immediately.  That sounds lovely doesn't it?  And I've even managed to maintain that facade...for a bit.

The problem is, that creating a perfect front comes at a cost. Here is what I've really experienced:

I'm exhausted. I stay up late to clean up so that I don't have to do it in the morning.

I'm irritable. It may feel good to wake up to a clean house, but when someone spills something I am less than kind.

I'm obsessive. I can't let things go. I keep thinking, "Just one more thing and then I will sit down." Funny thing about that philosophy...I always find exactly one more thing to do.

 The kids are frustrated and bored. They've been forced to watch entirely too much TV while I obsess.


And even after all the "maintaining" that a "good stay at home mom" has done, there are STILL areas that are not up to the standards of others.

I'm sick of myself. I'm sick of putting pressure on myself to live this way. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate a clutter free space. I like not having toys all over the floor and I think it's important for the kids to learn responsibility and pick up after themselves.   But I miss the days of playing in the grass, discovering new bugs in the yard. I miss "finger" painting giant pieces of paper (and the bathroom floor) with our feet.

Someone recently came to my house and made the comment "You can tell kids live here."  To be honest, it ruffled my feathers. I felt a need to explain.  But it dawned on me today as I was vacuuming the hardwood floors (really???) that I'm a people-pleaser.  I'm directing my attention to the standards of other people. My expectations for myself are based on the opinions of others.

But this is all wrong! I need only to live up to the standard of One. Jesus Christ.  And I can assure you that He cares more about the state of my children's hearts than the state of their bedroom. I'm reflecting on the things that I'm teaching their young hearts.  Do I want them to see exhaustion and people-pleasing modeled as a way of life?  Or do I want them to see a life surrendered to Jesus and worshiping him in all that I do? I want to be a reflection of Christ, One who looks not on the outward but the inward.  I want to be and I want my kids to be eternally-minded.  Going only where our Shepherd leads. Doing what HE puts on our to-do lists.

So yes, kids live here. There are stains on the carpeting and upholstery of our car. Construction paper and finger-painted masterpieces decorate my walls.  Toy cars are parked under the couch. Stuffed animals sit on the kitchen floor awaiting adoption from the "pet shop".  And super-heroes bask in the sunlight on the sun-porch floor. Yes, kids live here. They reside here. They learn and discover here. They rest here. They take comfort here. They have adventures here.  They LIVE here.   And, it's my desire that here, in this home, they will experience the wonderful, abundant life that Jesus gives us.

And I wouldn't have it any other way!

Motherhood: Drop Cloth and Bucket Required

Thank you Desiree for the title of this unbelievable day...

(Please note that this post is probably TMI...but well...it's life in the land of Motherhood.There are intentionally no pictures attached to this entry.)

Before I begin the unfolding of today's events. Let me start with the lessons I've learned (been learning) and had the opportunity to practice.
.
Lesson 1: Sometimes God does give us more than we can handle.  I texted a friend today and told her that I knew God
doesn't give us more than we can handle but I'm at my limit.  She texted back a surprising, but wonderful response: "Actually, I think God does give us more than we can handle so that we see our need to depend on Him."  Thank you! That set the stage for me today.  I listened, I leaned in, I survived!

Lesson 2: Godly friendships are imperative.  I can't do this journey alone.  I know that I can text several of my closest friends and ask for prayer and I know I will be prayed for in that moment.  That's so reassuring...and life giving.  I'm thankful for interceding friends. 

Lesson 3: You can either laugh or you can cry about a situation.  It's much more pleasant (and makes for better blog material) if you laugh!

Lesson 4: Blue and red icees are not as fun coming up as they are going down...but I am getting ahead of myself here!  On to the fun (??) run down of my day.

After a terribly hectic and long day, we arrived home late, put the kids to bed late...and went to bed late ourselves.  Around 1 am I hear the familiar "thump thump" of Caveman's foot steps (he's never been one to pitter-patter around the house).  I groan "Why can't these kids stay in their own beds?"  Then I hear "Momm....blahhhhh"....next is Hubby, "Ugh! He just threw up on me!"  (and we later found that he also got the entire basket of freshly washed clothes).

Yes, my 2 year old son was standing near the doorway of our bedroom and projectile vomited onto my husband. (I'm so glad that I sleep closest to the window!)  We break into clean up mode.  Wonderful Hubby cleans without ever a complaint.

Caveman now on the bed rolls all over my pillow and sheets while I'm getting a rag. <sigh> I just washed those too!

I go to his room to get fresh clothes and it's a regular slip-n-slide in there.  Yes, I had to change my clothes. I return and  flip on the light to find that he had apparently been facing the wall when his belly began to feel upset...yes...all. over. the. wall....but surprising not on his sheets.  Thanks buddy!

Finally all are settled back in bed and an hour later I'm awakened by Caveman who is complaining that he peed in his pull-up. Now is the time he wants to potty train???  I feel him. He's soaked.  We go to the bathroom only to find that it's not pee. Apparently his mouth is not the only thing that can explode during the night. <sigh>  Really regretting those oreos I gave him earlier in the day.

Back to bed and 2 hours later...same routine.

Hubby gets up at 5:30 and goes to his office (also the home of the zapped cat ). The next thing I hear is frustration as several trips ensue to the bathroom and the sun porch (in which the cat was deposited).  Yes. The cat had, in fact, pooped on Hubby's chair. Not knowing this, he sat in it.  The cat is not  currently  a favored household member.

Everyone is up and groggy by 7.  I finally get breakfast scrounged together by 8:30.

Hubby is planning to go out of town with his boss today and we have to leave the house by 9.  I'm feeling frantic because I've had no sleep. One child is sick. The other is in high gear. And my husband is leaving for 3 days.

My doctor's office calls just as I'm about to start crying.  "We got your tests back. You have an infection. We called in a prescription, but you need to know that these meds will give you side effects that we cannot treat until your 2nd trimester. Have a good day."  Of course that call would happen today. In that moment.  I'm 8 weeks along...it's going to be a long 4 weeks.

We get out the door, make the 30 minute drive to the house of Hubby's boss. Say a goodbye to him and off I go to pick up my prescription (fighting back silly tears in effort to be strong for the kids).

Once arriving at Target, one kid is winding down. The other is screaming his head off and wanting only to be held. Poor kid. He's sick. I get it.  In effort to keep them quiet and hydrated, I buy them icees. A red one for Blue Bird. A blue one for Caveman.  All are happy. I decide to glance over the clearance section of clothes in effort to find brown pants and a shirt for Blue Bird's lion Halloween costume.

At which point, Blue Bird says, "Mommy, I feel sick. My tummy hurts."  I'm sad to say that I didn't at first believe her, thinking it was only attempt to be like Caveman.  She proved her point when she deposited all her red icee into my lovely purple jacket...in the clothing section of Target.

She  tends to get insanely embarrassed. So I managed to hide her and clean her up without anyone noticing.


We rush over to the pharmacy to get my meds before any more red icee revisits us.  Just as I'm paying and saying "Thank you" to the pharmacist, I notice a look of utter disgust on her face. I turn around to see a steady stream of blue icee coming out of Caveman.  Blue icee everywhere! Blue icee....all over the pharmacy area. All over the clearance clothes that I  had in the cart. (I guess I'm committed to them all now.) All over the cart and Blue Bird's feet and shoes.

The pharmacy worker gave me a bag and some paper towels, all the while Blue Bird is crying out "He got some on my foot!  Please clean off my foot!"  And the other pharmacy workers could all be heard "It was a blue icee?"  "Do you think the icee made him sick?"  "I stay away from the blue..."  Yes...all duly noted.  No, it's not the icee. He has a vicious stomach bug and my husband is out of town and I have to have this medicine so that it can give me side effects that will linger untreatable for 4 more weeks.  Thank you!

So I strip Caveman down to his diaper and proceed to the check out.  Yes, it's fall. Yes, my kid is naked. Yes, he has a stomach bug. Yes, I brought him into a public place. My husband is out of town and I needed this medicine...oh forget it...just stop staring at me. I'm not a circus routine!  <please someone tell me they have been in this situation before!>

I survey the checkout people.  I avoid the mean ones and head straight for the one that is always smiling and happy.  So thankful that at this point a friend from church joined me in line and distracted the half naked, icee covered kids while I explained to Friendly Cashier that I would hold the tags of the soaked clothes while she scans them with her scanner-wand-thingy.  She was so. very. kind.  And I bagged my own items.

I was so glad to get home.  I'm so thankful for friends and their encouraging words and service to me.

Currently, I'm typing in the dark in the living room.  The kids are asleep in their sleeping bags, on their mattresses,  on the living room floor, with a trash can between them.  Tonight was supposed to be our "fun camp out" night. (a tradition of ours when Daddy goes out of town).  Maybe tomorrow will be more "camp out-ish".

But for tonight, I will sleep, with my drop cloth and bucket handy...


side note: 3 loads of laundry, 3 pillows, and a set of sheets was the total count for the day.