Author: laranettle

Update

Custard had a very long surgery, and it took him a long while to recover his appetite afterwards. He’s now doing really well – eating like a voracious wildebeest, and acting like he isn’t missing half his face. He had his first antibiotic shot yesterday, and I honestly think it was harder for me than it was for him. I have never been good with needles, the fact that I am able to do it at all is testament to my love for this little guy.

Tuesday night wasn’t a good one for me. More explosive spewing, but thankfully it was all over within half an hour, and I didn’t need to go to hospital. I wasn’t able to take the anti nausea medication though, and yesterday was horrible. I was wondering whether the Restavit was actually working, as I still feel nauseous after taking it, but yesterday proved that it does work – I could barely get out of bed yesterday after skipping a dose. Horrible.

I have received a few packages in the post in the last week – and I haven’t even opened two of them! One because the smell of the plastic absolutely kills me (I also have a magazine I can’t read because of the smell!), and the other mainly because I am a crappy secret pal.

I joined the knitters treat exchange as a test to see if I could handle a “light” version of the secret pal idea. I quickly gathered a variety of treats for my pal, and was pretty happy that I had a parcel of stuff she would love. Then I started to see other packages on blogs, and started to worry that my package was a bit lame. So I didn’t send it, thinking that I should add a few more things.

And then I got sick.

And then, I got my package from my spoiler, and felt too guilty to open it until I had at least posted the package to my spoilee.

So, to both my pals, a HUGE sorry. My mission for today is to have a shower, and drag myself off to the post office. I’ll wrap everything properly and write some little notes, AND GET THE DAMN THING POSTED. It may not be the best package ever, but each item was chosen with care and the very best of intentions. And I think I know my new pal well enough to know that she will appreciate the sentiment behind it. And I’m going to have to learn that perfection isn’t possible – being a parent will surely teach me that!

Custard

My lovely dad stayed with me all day yesterday – we dropped Custard off at the vet, and then saw Pirates of the Caribbean III while we waited for the all clear.

The text message came two hours into the THREE hour film. I left the cinema to call Matthew, and chat with him about the surgery. It wasn’t good news.

The abscess had two branches, the one I could feel on his jaw, and another behind his upper back teeth. The abscess had wrapped itself around his jugular vein, and also his left facial nerve, which meant Matthew was only able to remove about 95% of it.

Normally, an encapsulated abscess has a good survival rate if the surgeon is able to remove the whole thing, and no infection remains. But even a small pocket of infection will usually come back, even with aggressive antibiotic treatment. There is a chance he will respond well to the antibiotics, and we can stop this thing in it’s tracks, but he will be on the treatment for the rest of his life. Realistically, the chances are that it won’t be a long time.

Custard had a very large abscess in his nasolachrimal duct when he came to live with me, and he was given only six months to live back then – over six years ago. Every day since then has been a blessing, and I am determined to give him the best care I can until the time comes to let him go.

Thanks everyone for your messages of support. He has been getting lots of cuddles.

Some vibes for Custard please…

The restavit seems to have toned the nausea down to a dull roar, which means that if I take things slowly and carefully, I can actually get out of bed occasionally without spewing.

Saturday night we babysat Alex for a few hours, and despite having a worrying cough, he was an absolute angel, and we’ll be happy to babysit anytime in the future. No pictures, because I didn’t want to stress him, but you can be assured that he is still cute.

On our way out the door on saturday night, I discovered a lump on Custard’s jaw. It’s an abscess, and Matthew the wondervet confirmed it yesterday. He’ll have surgery today, and we are hoping that Matthew won’t find any bone involvement – he has a much better chance of surviving this if his bone is healthy.

Abscesses in rabbits are very often life threatening, because of the way their little systems make pus – an abscess diagnosis is often as bad as a cancer diagnosis. So please keep everything crossed today for my little guy, that he has a safe surgery, and a good prognosis afterwards.

And a big thank you to Dad, who will be driving with me out to Penrith, and waiting around for most of the day so that we can get him home safe and sound. You rock Dad!

WTF?!

What does this mean?

My take is that the (UK) government is putting the frighteners on pregnant women.

“The Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists says there is no evidence that a couple of units once or twice a week will do any harm to the baby.”

Now, I am hardly advocating that pregnant women should get on the sauce, but it would seem to me that this is an unwarranted level of control over women’s bodies. I dare say that most of our mothers had a shandy or two while pregnant, and worse still, cigarettes!

I haven’t touched a drop since before I learned I was pregnant, but I drank far to much on my wedding anniversary (when I was pregnant but didn’t know it). I am also open to the idea of a white wine spritzer later in my pregnancy (when and if the idea stops making me gag), and I resent that this is being done in such a heavy handed manner. What might be more intelligent, is tackling a problem that is a massive health threat – like smoking.

In Ampersand news, I saw my GP yesterday, and got the results of the blood test from the hospital last week. Elevated liver enzymes (from puking so much), and an elevated white blood cell count. GP suspected an infection, and sent me off to the SAN clinic to speak to an obstetrician.

I’ve been given a new drug called Restavit – it’s an over the counter insomnia medication, which is apparently very effective for nausea of pregnancy (I refuse to call it morning sickness if it won’t confine itself to mornings). I fell asleep before I could take it last night, and have had another rotten day today, but I am hopeful for tomorrow.

He reckons that 14 weeks is the magic number for feeling better – not 12 as popular opinion would have it. I also spoke to the midwife at the clinic, who agreed with the doctor about the 14 week thing. She has also given me a phone number for the social worker at Hornsby Hospital, so that I can call and make an appointment before I book in to the hospital (which is not until the 14th of June).

Thursday night we did a tour of the birthing unit, and were pretty happy with the facility, but for one small detail. They like you to check out 24 hours after giving birth. They will extend it to 48 hours, but no more unless there are exceptional circumstances. I’m no fan of hospitals, and thought I would be keen to get out, but that sounds just a we bit harsh….

Back to 2005

Thanks everyone for your lovely comments and support. The last week has been pretty challenging, but at least I have learned that I am stronger than I thought I was. The pills that the Dr at the hospital prescribed were $91.35 for ten tablets, and I was to take 2-4 per day. I took the last pill on monday night, and spent most of yesterday in bed. Today I dragged myself off to Cherryhills for the knitting group, and managed to put on a brave face after 10 minutes of deep breathing in the car after the drive. I had a lovely time, and I do hope that my colourful language wasn’t upsetting the regulars.

Candy invited me over for lunch, but I as ready to get back to bed after all that excitement. Was home in time for Oprah, but fell asleep during the first segment, and woke up to Judge Judy – the horror!

Got up to do some useful stuff, felt vile, went back to bed. At 4.30pm, I put the dishwasher on, and cut up some veggies to bake for dinner. This furious burst of activity was enough to have me racing for the toilet again, and after that I slunk back to bed with my tail between my legs.

Tomorrow, I was planning on spending most of the day working on my secret project, but since I’ve discovered that activity sets off my nausea, I think I’ll be doing more knitting, and less getting out of bed. Or maybe I’ll visit the GP and try to get a referral to an obstetrician – though I don’t think I’ll need one long term, it might be good to talk to an expert about what is happening to me right now, and maybe get some answers. And I’ve decided it wouldn’t kill me to see what sort of early intervention programs for pre natal depression are available. I may not need it, but if anyone has a red flag over their head for PND, it would be me – and my experience of pregnancy has been pretty awful so far.

In case you’re interested, I am now into my 15th week, well into the second trimester. 182 days to go.

Breaking blog silence

There is something in the air at Club Denistone, and I haven’t wanted to blog about it in fear of jinxing it. Suffice it to say that if you’re in the mood for crossing your fingers and sending some luck our way, it would be greatly appreciated.

Something I can tell you about, is our adventures last night. Sensitive readers may want to look away, because there is yucky stuff involved.

I have reached the second trimester, and am (apparently) supposed to start to feel better.Until last night, I was waiting in naive hope that my energy levels would increase, and my all day constant companion of nausea would fly away. Yesterday I spent a lovely day with Mandy, pottering about the house, having tea and cake, shopping, and cooking. We even dyed some yarn. After she left, I was pretty tired, and aware that I had probably pushed myself a bit too much. Until about 11pm, I barely left the couch, and was feeling worse and worse. Just after 11, I dragged myself into bed, and then had to race to the bathroom to throw up. Usually, after I throw up, I start to feel better immediately, so I washed my face and crawled back to bed.

Within 10 minutes, I was hurling again, and every 10 minutes after that for the next two and a half hours. At 1.30pm, I had had enough, and was ready to kill myself to stop the vomiting. Mark drove me to hospital.

I was so dehydrated that they had trouble finding a vein, David the 12 year old doctor had to dig about in the back of my hand for a few minutes before giving up and trying my right hand. Eventually he found a vein and took some blood (I am so very brave – I didn’t pass out), and then a nurse cam in with a miracle cure that had me feeling better within seconds of the shot.

An hour or so on a drip, and they offered me a choice of admission, or going back home. I chose home, and we were tucked up in bed just after 3am.

Apparently what I have is called hyperemesis. And it might go away today, or last for several months. The horror…

Thanks Candy!

Candy rang today, and encouraged me out of the house. We had a lovely chat, and I am again reminded about how lucky I am to be part of such a wonderful group of women.

Tomorrow is my birthday, and I’m hoping to make it to Cherryhills in the morning, have lunch with mum, and then go out for a family dinner in the evening. A little bird told me that I’m getting a pretty cool present tomorrow, so I promise pictures.

We visited Aunty Emily tonight. She is out of hospital, but still pretty frail.

Thanks for the black bean sauce tips – the recipe I remember had spring onions, and garlic I think. It involved chopping roughly, cooking, and then processing in a blender.

And the Apple Store is down. Looks like we might be having a product announcement overnight. I don’t work in the industry any more, but I still feel the buzz.