Sunday, January 15, 2012

Home Sweet Home...

It was not on our anniversary but about ten days later when we did it...

Now get your minds out of the gutter. I'm talking about when we moved into our new, twelve year old house on East Boston Road.

Thanks in very large part to my dad, my mom, Kris, Bobby, and Margaret Qualey (the whirling dervish who showed up on moving day with an offer of help and a can-do attitude and who can paint a wall and take apart a bed, couch or table then lug said item DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS and throw into the back of a pick up truck faster than I could type this) we got moved in and even semi-settled all in a day. And a few days later Tracy came to help with things I hadn't gotten to yet.

And I also have to give a huge, gigantic, forever-indebted, THANK YOU to Johnny Davis who, about seven months ago or so, showed up one day to offer to help Charlie and proceeded to show up every day after that to work on plumbing, heating, and anything else that needed doing simply as a friend to the hubby. Were it not for him, we would still be talking about someday living here instead of actually being here. There were times when we had to be on the mainland for one thing or another and he would still show up and work on our house. We would come back to the island to find that he had painted The Toot's bedroom, or gotten the toilet hooked up, or any one of a million things that needed doing that he took upon himself to get done.

Of course, the kids and I now joke about his and Charlie's "bro-mance". Last week, when I was away with The Toots, Blake snapped this little shot of them having dinner together (she added the romantic touch of candle light for them). When I confronted asked Johnny and the hubby about it they both laughed and Johnny even went so far as to tell me he had told the hubby, "I thought she would never leave!". They both thought they were so hysterical (the hubby thought I would appreciate the irony/insult of them eating the beef stew I had made the night before) but I must admit, it was quite funny.
(don't they make a cute couple??)

Anyway, here I am. In my new digs. It doesn't quite feel like home yet. I've never moved before so I have no idea how long the period of adjustment tends to last. Ellie felt like she was home right away. Blake and the hubby tend to feel like I do. The Toots had a whopping seizure at 3:00 a.m. on the first night we were here so I am guessing she felt out of place as well. Although she just adores her pink room. (and yes, she picked out the color, not me).

Here are a few photos of the entry, living room, kitchen and fireplace, Tessie's room as well as the upstairs hallway and the view from the deck up there. I left out the older girl's rooms, our bedroom and the bathrooms because they are private. I also left out the office because it is a total mess! There is still quite a bit left to do (mop boards, stair railing, scraping down all those big doors you see that, by the way, came out of the Union Church which I think is very cool, etc.) but I love it.

(the entry)

(Kitchen..the island is one of my favorite parts of the house)

(dining/fireplace/kitchen)

(fireplace area...another favorite part of the house)

(tessie's room)

(Toot's room again)

(love love love the driftwood sign Kris made for Tessie)

(living room)




(living room)

(upstairs hallway)

(sunset..pretty sweet view)

(CHRISTMAS!!!) only photo I took though :(

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Tess has been sick with something since the week before Christmas.

Note the word "something".

We have taken her to the medical center, the island dentist, her pediatrician, Childrens Hospital (again, dentistry), and back to her pediatrician several more times (along with untold number of phone calls to him or his nurse which resulted in him just giving me his pager number). Oh, and let's not forget the countless dental xrays, then there was a fluoroscopy, blood draw and urine test.

And today we go again to see her pediatrician and, chances are very high, more blood tests and xrays.

What is wrong? We have no idea. And yes, I am getting scared. I wasn't at first, figuring it was just another virus or bacterial infection that The Toots seems to get just by hearing someone mention the words, "I think I am coming down with something." But this is different. It FEELS different to me. And naturally, I can't describe in what way except to say the Tessie knot in my stomach is talking to me...loudly.

I have been going over it and over it and over it. Searching the web (always good for a terrifying time) and talking nonstop to her home health nurse trying to figure this out.

It started with what we thought was an abscess on one of her top molars. The left side of her face was very swollen and she had a low grade temperature. Due to her having a compromised immune system it was considered somewhat of an emergency for fear the infection would spread. We immediately took her to her "boyfriend" AKA, Doc Stephenson, and he put her on very strong antibiotics after consulting with Boston and then sent us home under strict instructions that he would be sending her to Boston if her fever went up at all or she seemed any worse. And bonus, they didn't see an abscess but she could still have one or it could be something totally unrelated. No idea what though.

Christmas was stressful to say the least. I was on constant alert. Poor Tess just couldn't get away from my constant feeling of her forehead or, gasp, shoving a thermometer up her bum to get an accurate temperature reading. Not to mention asking every person I saw, "Do you think her cheek looks more swollen?".

But, we got through it and even made it to Boston to see the dentist there. She took another xray, peeked in her mouth and promptly told me she was going to extract one of her molars because it was impacted...to the point that it had literally eaten away at the tooth in front of it almost to the roots.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!

Remember my last lovely post? You see where I am going with this right? What is it with teeth problems in my house????

Then she called Doc Stephenson and they discussed how the tooth, although a problem in it's own right, is not "THE PROBLEM". No signs of an abscess after all. Which was good and bad. Good because that is one problem ruled out, bad because of the multitude of other problems it could be.

So now, we are on week 4 of antibiotics that don't seem to be treating anything and non stop worry.

She still has a low grade fever. She is still exhausted ninety-five percent of the time. Oh, and just a little side note here, just for fun she is now dropping her heart rate at random and then having it jump back up from too low (for her) to too high (for anyone). And because God loves to laugh at my expense, she is also dropping her oxygen stats to a worrisome number when she is asleep resulting in many alarms and my impending heart attack or trip to the nut house, whichever happens first. Then there is the swelling in her right foot. How very random.

Did I mention there are moments during the day when she seems fine? And this usually happens when we are at a doctors appointment so that Tess can prove to them that I really am crazy and am just making up all the stuff about her not feeling well (I told Sheila today that I feel like one of those Munchausen Syndrome mothers). At least that is what it is starting to feel like.

OH. MY. GOD.

So, to sum up class, Tess could be sort of sick but in essence, okay, or she could be in some real trouble. It's anyone's guess. At this point, my gut is saying the latter but is that because I have such good instincts or have I simply lost all perspective and at this point would be prone to overreacting if she had a hang nail? Again, it's anyone's guess but on this particular question, the hubby would tell you the latter.

When I asked her doctor how worried I should be about what is going on, he said that while he wouldn't use the word worried, he did admit to being "unnerved" and said his "...noggin was full of Tessie girl."

I wanted to say, "Welcome to my world.", but all I was really thinking was "Oh shit" and that didn't seem like an appropriate response to say to your child's doctor. But you know what?

Oh shit.