I am worn out and wan, and WordPress just told me I failed to “prove my humanity” by correctly answering a math problem, which was 3 + 1 and I am just CERTAIN I got it right, but I have to live with the idea that I will never be able to achieve vindication on that.
This past Tuesday, Edward had a follow-up with the surgeon for his sinus surgery. The surgeon took one look at him from across the room (Edward’s eye area was still slightly puffy, and a little lump had appeared along the bridge of the nose the day before) and switched us to a different exam room, one with a giant up-the-nose camera system. He looked up Edward’s nose and ordered another CAT scan, which he said he’d be able to review the next day. The next day the office called to say we had another surgery and overnight hospital stay scheduled for Friday.
It was another abscess, in the sinus near the side of the bridge of his nose. The surgery was done partly by going up through the nose, and partly using a 1/4-inch incision on the side of the bridge of the nose (no stitch because they wanted it to drain). I don’t remember all the right terms, but the infection there had broken through the barrier between that sinus and the area where the eye is, so we had to have the whole ophthalmology-doctor experience over again, with her suitcase and the eye drops; she said the eye still looks unaffected but we have to go back and see her in a month.
We also had a visit from a doctor from Infectious Diseases, because ENT wants him on an entire additional month of antibiotics, and especially with his Crohn’s disease (but even without it), that’s something they like to take extra care with. She seemed very, very bored with us, which is an encouraging if annoying thing for a specialist to be. We will see her again in a week, at the follow-up with the ENT surgeon.
(Also, last time we were at the hospital it was freezing, and all the staff were wearing fleece with their scrubs, and I wore my cardigan the whole time and was cold at night even under the covers. So this time I was smart and wore jeans and brought a warmer cardigan. And our room was nearly 80 degrees and I slept with no covers on and was constantly slightly sweaty. One of the nurse assistants told me they are working on the broken air-conditioning room by room.)
I put a little rant-question on Twitter last night about how to administer an every-8-hours antibiotic (when the specialists emphasized it should REALLY BE every 8 hours), without having to wake the child or disrupt the school day, and I took the tweets back down because I realized I already know the answer to that, and it’s that you can’t, and you just have to figure out what you’re going to do: fudge the 8 hours or else DO IN FACT wake the child and/or disrupt the school day. There’s no weird schedule thing I’m missing where it does work.
The lovely thing about the timing of the surgery is that he has this long weekend to recover. The downside is that I am increasingly concerned as his Remicade infusion (for the Crohn’s disease) gets more and more overdue (he missed it when he first came down with the sinus infection near the first week of August), and I need to call his GI specialist to ask about that, and I also want to be reassured that ENT and Infectious Diseases really did consult with them about the antibiotics plan, but I can’t do that until Tuesday. Well, no, I could do that right this minute and talk to whoever is on call. But it is not that much of a thing to me. Like, I have already worked through the “You REALLY CAN call the person on call; that is WHY they are on call” thought process, and I DO KNOW I could call, but it REALLY ISN’T that urgent to me: he can’t have his Remicade infusion over the long weekend ANYWAY. I can wait until Tuesday to hear about when he CAN have it.
Also William is now at college, and also I have been working at a new part-time job for two very poorly-timed weeks, and those things are adding significantly to my worn-out wanness so I mention them here but will have to talk more about them later.
I realize that you can’t receive care packages from internet commenters (nor would you want to!) so I will send a pretend one. Here is what I would include:
– assorted bag of Lindt truffles (on sale near me this week so people at work are getting them for real)
– adult coloring book titled “Maybe Swearing Will Help”
– pretty pens for coloring
– tea assortment from my favorite fancy teamaker (https://www.smithtea.com/collections/all-gifts/products/string-tie-variety-pack)
– plush antibody for symbolic infection protection (https://smile.amazon.com/GIANT-MICROBES-846869004823-Antibody-Plush/dp/B00GUS4YNA?ref_=ast_bbp_dp)
Hope things get better!
Virtual care packages! What a fun idea! <3
Oh my gosh. This is so dreadful. Poor Edward and poor you. Timing is not great, but I am glad he has the whole weekend to recover. I bet you are super excited to meet with a specialist who is bored with you. What the what?! How irritating.
Hope this clears up for him with no outbursts from the Chrones!
Oh no, Swistle! I’m so sorry – poor Edward. Since we are sending virtual care packages – here’s a bottle of your favorite beverage, freshly baked chocolate chocolate chip cookies and a hug.
Thinking of you and Edward and feeling SO STRESSED FOR YOU.
I wish I could send you a casserole and a bagged salad and a dessert.
I wish I could make it all better.
Yes, I am also sending positive, healing thoughts. And a delightful fall apple cake. Not to worry, it freezes beautifully in case you get too much virtual food. 😉
Brownies! and wine! Alllllll the wine. Or a stiff gin & tonic; you decide. Fingers crossed for a full and easy recovery for your boy. And I can’t wait to hear about the new job and a newly-shrunken family of five. Sending virtual hugs (or not), a massage and a mani/pedi just because.
Um, but CAN we send a care package? Do you have an Amazon wishlist? This sounds so hard and you are being remarkably tough about it.
This.
That is such a nice thought, and this is one of those situations where the thought itself is better than any actual items. There isn’t anything I want right now (and if I think of anything, I buy it right away because shopping is my coping mechanism), so the virtual/pretend care packages are ideal. Oh, or this: it would be pleasing if people bought THEMSELVES a little treat. Like, “I bought you a fancy coffee, and I drank it for you” would be both touching and therapeutically funny.
I understand. I will buy a new book and enjoy it for you. And if I had sent a care package, it would be a puzzle or new card game for the hospital, a package of Emily McDowell’s cheeky cards, and some really good chocolate!
I bought cinnamon swirl bread, toasted it, applied liberal amounts of butter and devoured it with some hot tea rich in French vanilla creamer—FOR YOU. It was therapeutic, coping toast. Practically medicinal.
Also, I really hope all the best for Edward (and the rest of you family). This all sounds pretty tough, and draining, and just ugh.
I am sipping a mug of hazelnut coffee with vanilla creamer in your honour right now, even though this post was written several days ago…
Excellent choice!
Oh yikes (again, me with the yikes) — I am so sorry you are dealing with this and hope he will recover fully and quickly and that you can get some quiet time and recuperate.
Awww poor Edward. And poor you. I am hoping he is on the mend soon. So sorry he is having to endure this. It sounds like you are being the mother he needs, throughout. Feel better Swistle family.
I am so sorry. I offer up a Costco chocolate sheet cake that freezes well. Hope Edward’s recovery is uneventful and that you get a break. xoxo
This is so awful. I hope the surgery does the trick and he’s all better soon.
For my care package, I’d look back in your posts and send you your favorite See’s candy, and then I’d look online and choose some of the cutest Wade miniature figurines and hope you like the wee little foxes and hedgehogs and squirrels and owls — https://www.etsy.com/market/wade_miniatures
I’d like to send via a 12-hour time-warp and whatnot:
8 hours of solid, restful sleep with the absolute perfect mattress, sheets, and pillows
An excellent book, like your very favorites but one you haven’t read yet, with
A hypoallergenic ultra-snuggly (but not shedding) soothing pet for a 4-hour rental, while
A delightful and well-paid housekeeper deep-cleans your toilets and fridge (or any area that you would like “done” but don’t want to)
Hope all gets a lot better!
Sounds like a tough time.
Somehow I missed this and ACK, I am so sorry you and Edward (and I suppose I should include Paul) are dealing with all this. Since it is now Tuesday, I hope you are already getting some answers about his Remicade infusion and that the antibiotics schedule is going smoothly. Thinking about you all. Ack ack ack.
Yes – what she said. My goodness, I hope things will be looking up soon on ALL counts!
I am going to finally crack open the bottle of Amarone my husband (Santa) gave me at Christmas and I will think of you. Maybe I’ll have mint chocolate something too, because as I recall that’s one of your favourites? I think?
Could I ask, will you be writing about your new job?
YES I love mint-chocolate! Good idea!
Yes, I will write soon about the new job!
-A Maeve Binchy book about Christmas
-Fun flatware at an amazing price
-Everything on clearance at Target
-A new secret level of Candy Crush
Hope you’re doing okay. Xo
For your virtual care package, I’d send you a secret advance set of all-new episodes of The Great British Bake-Off to binge and provide Soothing TV for the upcoming surgery.
Poor you. :(
You probably know this by now, but generally they’re not going to give him his infusion anywhere near an infection that needs antibiotics, much less surgeries. They won’t give me mine if I have an open wound or (list of things you’ve heard, including being sick enough to need antibiotics).