Lately I've been having these random, out-of-nowhere spells of dizziness. It's quite annoying. It's only happened 3-4 times, so I'm not that worried about it. Today it happened while I was driving. That's a little scary. Luckily, I don't really get disoriented, just dizzy for a few seconds.
I'm restless. I don't know what it is...just restless. I've had this feeling for a while. It seems more intense lately, though. I'm not unhappy or depressed. Just a general feeling of discontent. I have no idea where it's coming from or where it's going. And that's annoying. Maybe I need a new hobby.
I feel this post going down hill fast, so I'll tell a funny story. I'll have to think of one first......
While I'm thinking; I've got to learn to say no. I get all hung up on people liking me and not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings. Which usually gets me into a situation I don't want to be in but can no longer get out of. I frustrate me. Ok, before things get even darker, a story....
I have trouble remembering which stories I've told and which I haven't. If you've heard it, just humor me.
When we lived in Birmingham, we had a girls' basketball league for the youth. It was an informal league set up by me and a couple of other youth directors. I think there were 4 churches involved. We played the games at Bluff Park (the church where I worked). When the games were going I had to be there to look after things. At this time we lived directly across the street from the church. I was, literally, steps away from work.
One night I was at the church watching one of the girls' games. I think I was keeping score as well. This was sometime around the winter of 2002, I think. Which made Abby about 14-15 months old. During the second game of the night, my beeper went off. (The church got me a beeper, not a phone.) I got someone to cover the scoreboard while I went out in the hall to call home. Here is a paraphrase of the conversation.
Misty: "You've got to come home now!"
Me: "The game is not over yet."
Misty: "Come home now, we've got to take Abby to the hospital."
Me: "What?!? Why?"
Misty: "She ate glass!"
Me: "Then shouldn't we take her to the circus or a sideshow?"
Ok, I may have embellished a little. Needless to say I made arrangements for someone to keep score and someone to lock-up and ran home (literally). When I got there, Misty was holding our one year-old daughter and a watch. Long story short, while Misty was on the phone Abby broke the face of Misty's watch on our brick hearth. Before Misty could get to her, she ate some of the glass pieces. Misty fished some out of her mouth, but could tell that what she found was not enough to fill the hole in the watch. Picture Misty running toward Abby while she furiously shoves pieces of glass in her mouth as fast as possible. That's pretty much what happened.
Side note: Have you ever been listening to music on your computer and heard a song you've never heard before? Ever wonder, "Where did I get that song?" Me too.
So off we go to Children's Hospital's ER. We didn't know if her esophagus was lacerated or her stomach. Was she bleeding internally? Needless to say we arrived at the ER slightly panicked. The ER staff were somewhat less impressed with our predicament than we were. Apparently every child within a 50-mile radius of Birmingham was sick or injured that night, and all of them came to Children's. The place was packed. We checked in and took the only available seat on the floor next to a wall. Every chair was full. Every other inch of wall space was being leaned on. So we began our wait. Our several hour wait. At some point we asked an employee if they were unusually busy. The reply? "Nope."
We were on the waiting room floor about 2 hours. We had a one year-old who, for all we knew, had a shard of glass wedged in her digestive tract. And a 5 year-old who was lying on a cold tile floor 3 hours past his bedtime. Which translates to: We were pissed. Finally we were called back (after I asked what was going on a couple of times). We were lead back to... a hallway. There were no available exam rooms, so we were told to wait there. They took Abby to X-ray and brought her back. Still no room. So we waited for the doctor.
And we waited. And waited.
Two hours later, I caught an intern by the arm to ask what they had found. She eventually found the X-rays and came back. She put them up on the viewer and examined them.
Dr. Idiot: "I don't see anything. So maybe she didn't swallow any."
Misty: "I know she swallowed some. Part of the watch face is still missing."
Dr. Idiot: "Well, there's nothing there"
Me (pointing at the X-ray): "There's something."
To clarify, I, at one glance, spotted a piece of glass in my daughter's esophagus that this doctor didn't see in the several minutes before she came to us and after that she studied the X-ray.
Dr. Idiot: "Oh yeah, There's some."
Misty: "What do we do?"
Dr. Idiot: "Watch her stool for the glass. If you don't see it, take her to your pediatrician for a follow-up x-ray in a week."
Misty: "Will it hurt her?"
Dr. Idiot: "I don't know. If you see any blood in her stool bring her back. We may have to do surgery."
So we spent a stress filled week examining diapers for glass and/or blood. There was none. The follow-up X-ray showed noting. We were in the clear.
The moral of this story, if anyone ever suggest you go to the ER at Children's Hospital, punch them in the neck. Then let me examine the X-ray.
One night I was at the church watching one of the girls' games. I think I was keeping score as well. This was sometime around the winter of 2002, I think. Which made Abby about 14-15 months old. During the second game of the night, my beeper went off. (The church got me a beeper, not a phone.) I got someone to cover the scoreboard while I went out in the hall to call home. Here is a paraphrase of the conversation.
Misty: "You've got to come home now!"
Me: "The game is not over yet."
Misty: "Come home now, we've got to take Abby to the hospital."
Me: "What?!? Why?"
Misty: "She ate glass!"
Me: "Then shouldn't we take her to the circus or a sideshow?"
Ok, I may have embellished a little. Needless to say I made arrangements for someone to keep score and someone to lock-up and ran home (literally). When I got there, Misty was holding our one year-old daughter and a watch. Long story short, while Misty was on the phone Abby broke the face of Misty's watch on our brick hearth. Before Misty could get to her, she ate some of the glass pieces. Misty fished some out of her mouth, but could tell that what she found was not enough to fill the hole in the watch. Picture Misty running toward Abby while she furiously shoves pieces of glass in her mouth as fast as possible. That's pretty much what happened.
Side note: Have you ever been listening to music on your computer and heard a song you've never heard before? Ever wonder, "Where did I get that song?" Me too.
So off we go to Children's Hospital's ER. We didn't know if her esophagus was lacerated or her stomach. Was she bleeding internally? Needless to say we arrived at the ER slightly panicked. The ER staff were somewhat less impressed with our predicament than we were. Apparently every child within a 50-mile radius of Birmingham was sick or injured that night, and all of them came to Children's. The place was packed. We checked in and took the only available seat on the floor next to a wall. Every chair was full. Every other inch of wall space was being leaned on. So we began our wait. Our several hour wait. At some point we asked an employee if they were unusually busy. The reply? "Nope."
We were on the waiting room floor about 2 hours. We had a one year-old who, for all we knew, had a shard of glass wedged in her digestive tract. And a 5 year-old who was lying on a cold tile floor 3 hours past his bedtime. Which translates to: We were pissed. Finally we were called back (after I asked what was going on a couple of times). We were lead back to... a hallway. There were no available exam rooms, so we were told to wait there. They took Abby to X-ray and brought her back. Still no room. So we waited for the doctor.
And we waited. And waited.
Two hours later, I caught an intern by the arm to ask what they had found. She eventually found the X-rays and came back. She put them up on the viewer and examined them.
Dr. Idiot: "I don't see anything. So maybe she didn't swallow any."
Misty: "I know she swallowed some. Part of the watch face is still missing."
Dr. Idiot: "Well, there's nothing there"
Me (pointing at the X-ray): "There's something."
To clarify, I, at one glance, spotted a piece of glass in my daughter's esophagus that this doctor didn't see in the several minutes before she came to us and after that she studied the X-ray.
Dr. Idiot: "Oh yeah, There's some."
Misty: "What do we do?"
Dr. Idiot: "Watch her stool for the glass. If you don't see it, take her to your pediatrician for a follow-up x-ray in a week."
Misty: "Will it hurt her?"
Dr. Idiot: "I don't know. If you see any blood in her stool bring her back. We may have to do surgery."
So we spent a stress filled week examining diapers for glass and/or blood. There was none. The follow-up X-ray showed noting. We were in the clear.
The moral of this story, if anyone ever suggest you go to the ER at Children's Hospital, punch them in the neck. Then let me examine the X-ray.
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