Vancouver Island Mommy!

For the 5 or so of you who have read my blog, you may have noticed that I haven't posted in a couple of weeks. That's because I have big news, and I didn't want my friends and family to read about it on a blog before I got to tell them in person. Of course that news is that I'm pregnant!

Of course, I'm not that far along yet; I'm seven weeks and three days, so I'm not even showing. But, I'm really excited. That is, when I'm not nauseated and half-asleep. So, since the cat is out of the bag, I though I'd share my most embarassing (and funny) story so far. It takes place on my birthday, which also happened to be the day for my first prenatal doctor's appointment. I brought my sister-in-law with me, and I thought I would have a physical, but it was just a consultation. No biggie, since having a pap smear is not my idea of a fun birthday activity. Of course, the first thing I was required to do when I arrived was pee in a cup. This was absolutely no problem, since I seem to have to urinate pretty frequently these days. I had my meeting with the doctor and then we met my brother and nephew for lunch.

After lunch, I had to go to the lab for my first set of prenatal blood work. The lab tech seemed to be having a bad day. She was positively grumpy when I arrived. Oh, did I forget to mention the fiasco with my last name? I changed my name after I was married, but in my laziness, did not immediatly change all my ID. In fact, I put off changing my last name on my medical because my medical was being paid by my employer, and I figured they would change it. So, when I got to the doctor's, they still had me under my old last name and I didn't know which name BC Medical had. Anyway, I think they found that it was under my new last name, because the requisitions for the lab work were also under my new last name. The problem is that my care card still has my old last name because it costs $10 to get a new card, and I'm cheap as well as lazy. So, to finally tie this in with the lab tech, she initially printed the labels for my blood work using my old last name. Then she realized that everything else was printed with my new name. I don't think I've heard such an exasperated sigh in a very long time. I just knew she wondered if I was doing this on purpose to ruin her already bad day.

Anyway, after she took like six vials of my blood, she handed me yet another container for a urine sample. I didn't feel like I had to pee, but I've never had a problem before. So imagine my utter dismay and embarassment to find I COULDN'T PEE. I must have sat in that bathroom for 20 minutes with the water running, trying desperately for something, anything to come. But it seemed the more I wanted it to, the less I had to. Finally, to my mortification, the tech knocked on the door to ask if I was okay. I had to tell her I couldn't pee. She suggested I drink a couple of glasses of water to see if that helped. So here I was in the waiting room of the lab, drinking huge glasses of too-cold water and willing my bladder to fill. I had had a large lunch as well, so the more I drank the more bloated and nauseated I started to feel. I began to wonder if I was even pregnant, because I had read that pregnant women pee a lot. Surely, if I was REALLY pregnant, I would have no difficulty. Add to that the fact that my doctor did not do another pregnancy test earlier, and I wondered if I had just imagined it all.

Finally, I could not drink any more water, and the lab was due to close in ten minutes. I crept into the bathroom to try again. You'd think after 3 huge glasses of water, I'd have no problem, right? Wrong. I barely got enough for a decent sample (insert image of urine sample here; I couldn't upload one to my blog). Of course, once I left the lab, I had to pee every hour or so because of all the water I drank. The Goddess has one SICK sense of humour.

Anyway, it's been a week now, and I haven't had anything else that embarrassing happen so far. Of course, as my pregnancy progresses, I'm sure there will be new depths of indignity and humilation to explore. And I'll be sure to share them with you all.

More Wii!

I'm officially a video game junkie. Despite the fact that i have THE FLU, I got up this morning at 7 am, drove to the local mall, and waited outside the EB Games to pre-order my Nintendo Wii. I got there just before 8 am, and there was already a good line-up. In fact, there were two lines, one for the Wii, and one for the Playstation 3. The scary thing I noticed about the Wii line was that, except for a mother waiting with her son, I was the only female. I was also probably the oldest person in line, again except for the mother. However, we all had one thing in common: we were gamers, and that transcends age and gender. Not once did I feel like, "What am I doing here?" After all, we nerds need to stick together.

Armed with my new Nintendo DS, I sat down on the cold mall floor to wait. One of the guys in line said he heard that the EB Games would open at 8:30 to do the pre-orders. I felt like I got here just in time, especially since I figured they would only have 10-12 pre-orders available. I was lucky number 8, so I was confident that I was in. At around 9 am, the EB Games guy arrived. He came out a few minutes later and said, "Do you want the good news first?" One guy actually said, "No, give us the bad news first so we have something to look forward to!" Anyway, the good news was that there were, in fact, 12 pre-orders for the Wii. The bad news was that there were only 5 pre-orders for the PS3. Sadly, the PS3 line-up was longer than that for the Wii, and the first couple of people were carrying SLEEPING BAGS. Needless to say, there were some unhappy campers in PS3 land.

By far the funniest part of the whole pre-order experience was the organization. Firstly, the customers were only allowed in the store two-at-a-time, one from each line. The employees lifted the gate (using their magical key), ushered the lucky two inside, and then lowered the gate again. Secondly, there was a mall security guard present the whole time. I guess there was some concern that we would get unruly and start duking it out in the middle of the line-up, or we would rush into the store and shove our way to the front. Or maybe those unlucky bastards in the PS3 line would cause a riot and loot the store. In any case, anyone who lives on the Island knows that we are WAAAAAY to laid back for that.

So, after waiting for an hour and a half, I was the proud owner of a Wii pre-order. Those who read my previous post about the Wii will not be surprised to learn I also ordered the "Twilight Princess" game. To the average person (and those giving us strange looks in the mall), I waited for an hour and a half and paid $200 for a piece of paper. But to me, I bought my ticket to join the few who would have a Wii on launch day (provided that there are no shipping problems). Cheers!

The Party Curse

I'm beginning to wonder if our house is cursed for parties. Last year, we held Thanksgiving at our place. That same day, my brother and his girlfriend broke up, so needless to say, they did not attend. My sister had to go back to school, so she only stayed for about an hour, and my mom had to leave to drop her off. My stepdad was working so he came late, and, to top it all off, my husband had a hissy fit. One of my friends, whom I invited since she had no plans, brought her ex-boyfriend who DID NOT get along with my husband. He was pissed that this guy was here and when someone knocked over one if his things, he totally blew up. Luckily, he waited until after dinner, but the party was pretty much over after that.
Then, this summer, I threw a party for my husband's birthday, and nobody showed up except for my parents. My friend from work completely forgot until the next morning, and my other friend and her husband had to work. The couple of friends that my husband managed to remember to invite had something they couldn't get out of, but he forgot to tell me until that night. And, another couple of friends got the day wrong and showed up the next day, only to find nobody home! I visited with my parents and felt like crying. My husband, who apparently didn't really want a party anyway but didn't say anything, played video games on his computer.
The third curse was my step-daughter's baby shower. The first problem was the time. I left the date and time up to her, and she picked Friday the 13th (I know, I know, tempting fate) at 2pm. Imagine my surprise when 2:30 came and went and no guest of honour. I called her at work (it was her last day), when she informed me that she thought the shower started at 5pm, and that's what she told her friends. I had told everyone the shower started at 2... Of course, that proved to be a minor detail, since the second problem was a distinct lack of attendees. I invited a few friends of the family (who didn't show up), and I left it to my step-daughter to invite whichever friends she wanted. She ended up inviting four people, and only one of them was here. One wanted to go drinking with her boyfriend instead, one had to work, and one had a horrible day and didn't want to bring everyone else down. Once, again it was mostly my family who was present.
So now I'm wary about throwing any more parties. We're thinking about having Yule dinner at our place, but who knows if anyone will come? Then again, maybe bad things come in threes, so maybe the curse is lifted. What I do know is that I'll leave the invitations to me.

Wii, Wii, Wii

I have a confession to make: I'm dying for the Nintendo Wii to come out. It'll be released on November 19, and I'm trying my darndest to pre-order it. I check the Future Shop website every morning to see if they're taking pre-orders. In fact, I've checked my work schedule to make sure I have a couple of days off, just to play with my Wii (sorry, couldn't resist).

Happily, the Wii comes with a game, Wii Sports, which should be a good way to get used to the motion sensor system. With this system, I'll be able to hit a baseball by swinging my arm like I'm holding a bat. Of course, what I'm REALLY waiting for is the chance to play "Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess," which was supposed to come out for the Gamecube last Christmas.

Just thinking about playing this game makes me do a little happy dance as I sit on my fitness ball. So, just as a warning to all my family and friends, don't expect to see much of me after November 19. I'll be surgically attached to my game-playing chair, with my arm swinging madly about and cursing up a storm (but only if the game is really challenging!). Ooh, I can't wait!

More Kayaking and Foie Gras

So kayaking was a total blast. My shoulders, especially the trapezius muscles are really sore, and I'm sure they'll be worse tomorrow. Ladies, you will know what I mean when I say it feels like my bra straps are too tight. It feels as if the muscles are being pulled down by something. But, it was a beautiful day, sunny but not too warm. I got the biggest kayak; it was bright red, and it was the only one we took out with a rudder. I actually only used the rudder for a little while, since I found it easier to turn without it. Basically, to turn, you paddle on the opposite side and lean in to the same side you want to turn, making sure you don't lose your balance.
By the time we got back to the dock, my jeans were absolutely soaked. It was like I was wearing wet chaps, since the very top of my jeans and the butt were still dry. My companions were also damp, although they all had the good sense to wear less absorbent pants. We went to the nearest bar/restaurant and had a beer, wet clothes and all. All in all, a pleasant afternoon, and one new experience for me.
On another subject, I just looked up what "foie gras" was, since I didn't know. I was watching "Take Home Chef" on TLC, and Curtis made a gourmet burger with foie gras, and I was intrigued. My high-school French indicated that "gras" meant "fat" and I was sure it was something to do with ducks or geese. I found out that "foie gras" is fattened duck or goose liver, so I wasn't too far off.

Turns out when I read more about it, I was really grossed out by it, and have absolutely no desire to try it anymore. In order to fatten the livers, the animals are force-fed a high-starch diet for the last couple of weeks of their lives. There is even a term for it: gavage. The feed is actually administered through a tube directly into the esophagus. Now, I'm no stranger to tube feeding, but last time I checked we didn't put 4 times the normal caloric intake into people through feeding tubes.

I know that some readers (if I have any) will point out that lots of animal cruelty occurs in the name of food, and that I am far from a vegetarian. But, I do try to take a selective approach in picking what meat I eat and what I avoid. For instance, I do not eat lamb, or deer or rabbit (or any other "cute" animals). I also will not eat any baby animals, especially veal, since I know that they do some pretty mean things to make it tender, like prevent the animals from even walking during their short lives. I will now step off my soapbox.

Kayaking

Okay, so I finally figured out how to put pictures on my posts, so they're not just a monotony of words. But, I couldn't get a picture to go with my first post (sigh!).
Today I'm going kayaking for the very first time. I'm a bit nervous that I will make a complete idiot of myself. I really hope I dont' capsize the boat.

I'll do a post later today when I get back and I'll report on my experience.

P.S. I already got my driver's license. The picture isn't too bad...

Poor Kitty!

About a couple of weeks ago, I took my cat, Asia, to the vet's because I thought she was diabetic. My mom and best friend both have diabetic cats, and Asia was showing similar signs that their cats did when they were diagnosed: drinking lots of water, using the litter box a lot and losing weight. Imagine my surprise to find out, after a urinalysis and blood work, that my cat actually has kidney disease. From what I read on the internet, kidney disease is very common in older cats - Asia is 13- and it's treatable. Vets don't have dialysis machines for kitties, so they use diuresis, giving lots of fluids to encourage lots of peeing, to help flush toxins from the body.
The next week, Asia spent two days at the vet's getting IV fluids to kick start her kidneys. Then, because her teeth needed a cleaning, she was to have that done after the IV fluids. Driving Asia to vet, I had a horrible feeling like I wouldn't be bringing her home again. It was all I could do to not burst into tears. During those two days, I jumped every time the phone rang, dreading the vet calling with more bad news. The ball finally dropped on the day she was to have her teeth done. The vet called because, while prepping Asia for surgery, she noticed that my girl's heart rate was higher than normal, and she detected a murmur that wasn't there before. She put the surgery on hold and did pulse oximetry (to check the amount of oxygen reaching the tissues) and chest x-ray. Now on top of everything else, Asia had pulmonary edema (fluid in the lungs), probably because her circulatory system could not handle the IV fluids. The surgery was cancelled and I brought Asia home, to go for a follow-up exam the next week.
Well, I'm cautiously happy to report that Asia is better. Her follow-up chest x-ray, which the vet showed me, showed clearer lungs. Her blood work was better. And I had a new job to do at home: subcutaneous fluid administration. Seems I can't escape from my vocation, even when it comes to my pets. Every day, presumably for the rest of Asia's life, I insert an 18 gauge (big!) needle into the scruff of the neck, and let 100ml of Ringer's Lactate run in. It looks kinda strange because a lump forms where the fluid goes in, and then as Asia walks around, gravity sets in and the fluid settles in the upper arms, usually more on one side than the other. So, until the fluid is absorbed, my poor kitty's upper arm, which is twice the size of the other, flops back and forth as she moves!
So, my home now screams, "A nurse lives here!" I have an IV pole in my living room, with a bag of ringer's, all set up, hanging from it. I also have a moral dilemma: how much of the equipment should I pay for and how much should I steal from work? The needles I have to use aren't available at work, so I'll have to buy those. But if I buy the bags of fluid from the vet's they're nearly $7 each, while the hospital pays only $1.21 each (of course, if I steal them I will be paying $0). The tubing is also more expensive at the vet's. Then there's the issue about what to do with the used needles. It would be so much easier to snag a sharps container and then return it when it's full...
Tell me what you think: should I steal this stuff, or suck it up and pay for it?

Beginnings and Renewals

So I'm beginning a brand spanking new blog, inspired by my sister, who has an unnatural gift for reporting on the everyday with wit and insight. Hope to follow in her footsteps...
Anyway, as the name implies, I am a nurse at a largish hospital on Vancouver Island. Due to confidentiality, I cannot reveal my name or the name of the hospital, especially since I anticipate bitching repeatedly about some of the patients I may have. If you are a close relative, or worse, a co-worker, I hope you will respect my request to help maintain this confidentiality. This does not mean you should not post a comment; by all means, please let me know what you think, even if it's "you suck!" Just keep it general.
I thought I would start my blog with the funniest story I have this week. I went to ICBC to renew my driver's license, as I haven't obtained a new license since I was married almost a year and a half ago. For all those gasping in horror, I have to confess that my only excuses were sheer laziness, coupled with a lack of enthusiasm for obtaining a bad picture that nobody would see, since I have long passed the age where I get ID'd at the liquor store. But I digress...
I showed up at the Driver Services Centre, after careful makeup and wardrobe planning. I was worried about a particularly large blemish on the left side of my face, but I reasoned that the license picture is usually sketchy enough that it might not even show. I walked up to the counter, produced my old license, my marriage certificate, and even my passport, and crossed my fingers that the woman behind the counter wouldn't ask, "Why did you wait so long to get your license renewed?" Instead, she informed me that my license had been cancelled A YEAR AGO. Apparently, because I had a class 4 license, and not the standard class 5 license, I was required to have a medical exam every few years. ICBC had sent a reminder to the address on my license (about 4 years old itself), and, after hearing nothing from yours truly, cancelled the license.
I was too stunned at the time to ponder how the hell I was able to PURCHASE A BRAND NEW CAR without a valid license; instead I wondered whether I was going to jail for driving for a year license-free and how many hundred of dollars it would cost to get a new license. Turns out that it was actually cheaper to get my new license, since I only get it for two years instead of the usual five. The woman was surprisingly nice about the whole incident, and we even had a laugh about the fact that I must be a good driver, since most people find out their license expired when they get pulled over.
So, I am now the proud owner of a yellow sheet of paper saying I have a class 5 license (no medical exams, please), and I get to wait for that happy day when I get my new plastic license in the mail. The day when I get to say, incredulously, "Oh crap, is that what I look like?" I can't wait.