Drip by Drip

So I mentioned that this past Monday we travelled to see Reagan's pediatric endocrinologist.  In honor of a special man returning to my life this week, I'm going to take you through Monday's journey to Jackson hour-by-coffee-drenched-hour.

For you, Jack.

Our journey begins at the inauspicious time of four in the morning.  Feel the pain.  Sometimes I am up at four in the morning to fix Henry a bottle, or to check Reagan's number, but I typically go back to sleep once these activities are completed.  To begin the day at four o'clock is just absolutely awful.  AW.FUL.

4am: I hit the snooze button on the alarm for the final time & slumped out of bed.  I checked Reagan's number, which I'd told Trey I'd do in lieu of his usual middle of the night check since I'd be up at four anyway.  All was well with Reagan, so I took a shower & dressed sloooowly, because I just could not function.

5am: The first taste of coffee Monday came much, much earlier than usual.  I brewed a cup to drink while I finished my make-up (as if the make-up would help) & basically did every last thing I could think of before having to wake Reagan.

6am: We departed the house shortly before six in the morning.  In addition to my coffee, I'd made some toast because I was under the impression Chick-fil-A opens at six-thirty, & thus wouldn't be an option to us.  I mean who really knows when they open because why, WHY, are people up & milling about so early?!?  I was wrong, as Trey pointed out, & they open at six.  I opted out of a cup of coffee from Chick-fil-A only because I'd had two already (one at the house, & a second I'd fixed at the house to bring with me) & I knew Trey would not be persuaded by my pleas for a restroom break on the two hour drive to Jackson.

I snapped this picture below of Reagan while we were sitting in the drive-thru line, which was extremely short given that most of the good people of West Monroe have the sense to be asleep at six in the morning, or at least stumbling around in their bathrobe.

I managed to swap Reagan's pajama bottoms for her pants before we put her in the car, but she wore her Dora pajama top until we changed her out of it about one minute before we walked into the doctor's office.  She looked so cute, so I wanted to snap a picture.  I didn't realize my flash was on, & of course it flashed because it was still dark outside.

7am: I missed all but a few minutes of the seven o'clock hour.  I actually slept a little in the car on the drive over, so that's an indication of the fine job the two cups of coffee I'd ingested were doing of pepping me up for the long day.

8am: We pulled up outside the office right at eight.  I quickly changed Reagan's shirt, brushed her hair, & ran inside to the restroom, because, well, COFFEE.  

We were called to the back fairly quickly (it's not like there's a line of folks clamoring for the eight o'clock appointments).  They weighed Reagan, checked her blood pressure, height, etc. (she's tall, we learned).  They checked her number, which was fine, & then took an additional few drops of blood from the finger they'd pricked to check her A1C.  One of the main reasons for our trips to the doctor in Jackson, of which there will be roughly four a year for the time being, is for them to check Reagan's A1C.  This links to a good but simple explanation of what that number represents.  It's basically an indicator of a person's average blood sugar over the past two to three months.  The higher your A1C, the poorer your blood sugar control.

I was nervous about the A1C reading for a few reasons.  First, I had no idea all they needed was a drop of blood to conduct the test, so I was imagining a full out blood draw (although Reagan's had so many she handles them fairly well now).  I was so relieved when the nurse simply squeezed a small drop from the prick she used to check Reagan's sugar.  Whew.  I didn't want it to be an awful thing because it'd be an awful thing we'd be facing every trip over.

I was also nervous because her A1C is essentially the best indicator of how well I am doing managing her diabetes.  It's a predictor of the likelihood of future complications; what I do now can't be undone (cue the Garth Brooks Burning Bridges lyrics . . . it's all right, they popped in my head when I typed that). Until she's old enough to manage her diet & insulin regimen herself, it basically falls to me, & it is a considerable weight on my shoulders.  I was anticipating a number that would disappoint both the doctor & me, & then the rest of the day in Jackson, which we wanted to be fun for Reagan, would be ruined for me because I'd be obsessing over the A1C number.  Before I blabber on further, I'll tell you that her number was good.  We were told in January on our first visit that the goal for a diabetic her size & age is an A1C of 7.5; the target number will be tightened to 7 as she grows & we're able to, hopefully, more tightly control her blood sugar.  She's so small now that both food & insulin affect her drastically, but as she grows this likely won't be the case.  I was prepared for an 8.5 or 9; Reagan's A1C was a 6.8.  FIST PUMP!  That number did more for my day than any of the coffee I drank.

9am: By this time we were past the preliminaries & were chatting with Reagan's doctor, whom I love.  LOVE.  Do you know how wonderful it is to be a short drive away from a doctor who specializes in caring for diabetic children?  I am tempted to take a short break from relaying Monday's happenings & rail on Obama & his dismantling of American healthcare.  But I won't (this is me, not digressing).

Here's a pic I took of Reagan while we waited to speak with her doctor:

10am:  After I used the restroom (again), we left the doctor's office.  We were ready for lunch, because when you eat breakfast at six in the morning, you're starving before McDonald's has even put the smackdown on people wanting breakfast.  We knew no one would serve us lunch at ten in the morning, so we took Reagan to a Learning Express toy store.  That woke her up.

Considering it was ten o'clock on a Monday morning, we had the place to ourselves.  We were probably completely irritating to the salesgirl who likely takes a nice nap on most Monday mornings.  Reagan couldn't stop playing long enough to decide what she wanted, so as we approached the eleven o'clock hour, Trey & I started putting on the pressure for her to make a selection.  She showed a great deal of interest in the kitchenette on display, particularly the toaster.  However, the toaster came as part of a large set, & Reagan already has a kitchenette, so I directed her toward a selection of fake food (ketchup, mustard, a can of tuna, a box of spaghetti . . . you get the idea) that would be nice additions to her kitchen at home.  She was sold, & we were off to eat lunch. 

11am:  Fake food in tow, we debated our options, & settled on eating at a Broken Egg Cafe.  It was a good choice.  Gooooood choice.  Euphoric from the A1C, I went out on a limb & ordered a cream cheese filled omelet topped with lobster meat.  You're skeptical, I know.  It was amazing.  I ate it kind of fast, which is why there's no photo of it.  I also ordered some coffee, which was everything coffee should be: hot, fresh, & served in this fantastic mug.

And yes, I do realize that I could have eaten my lunch omelet at ten in the morning, & I would have, had we known we were so close to a Broken Egg Cafe.  Live & learn.

12pm: After lunch, we walked around the outdoor mall awhile before introducing Reagan to Barnes & Noble.  I walked in with her, her tiny hand in mine, & she said, "This is impressive."  I stopped, leaned closer to her, & asked her what she said, & she repeated, "This is impressive."  Impressive indeed, my dear.

While Reagan & I were strolling the outdoor mall & inhaling the paginated coffee goodness that is Barnes & Noble, Trey was at a Toys-R-Us nearby.  Reagan was not the only one determined to leave Jackson with a faux toaster.  Using his trusty iPhone, Trey discovered that Toys-R-Us sells a tiny plastic toaster, complete with two pieces of toast & a bagel for the bargain price of $9.99; he was sold.  He abandoned Reagan & I at the outdoor mall (one of my favorite places to be abandoned) & made a quick toaster run, returning to us in time to join me at Starbucks & place his order for a white chocolate mocha.

1pm: When we returned to the car for the trip home, Reagan's new toaster was waiting for her in her car seat.  She thought the car parked next to us had left it for her.  We had a few moments of toasty excitement standing there in the parking lot, & then we climbed in & buckled.  The moment my rear hit the leather, I realized how tired I was.  All the caffeine I'd ingested, the omelet joy, the toaster glee . . . vanished.

2pm: I think I slept a little on the way home.  I couldn't have slept much, because I was afraid Trey would fall asleep driving, & because Reagan was making toast for much of the drive home.  I'll give you one guess who was retrieving fake toast from the floorboard repeatedly as we headed for the Louisiana state line.  I happily scrounged for the plastic bread though, because when you count carbs all day long, you can't complain when hard, fake plastic toast makes your daughter happy.

3pm: As we neared West Monroe, I mentioned to Trey that we needed groceries.  Silence ensued for a few minutes as Trey determined how he'd return the ball I'd just lobbed him.  We both knew his options were, (1) we go home, see Henry (who was spending the day with my mom), & I return to the store later (ALONE!) while he watches the kids, or, (2) we make a detour on our drive home & Trey, Reagan, & I go to the store together.  Trey opted for door No. 2.  It worked out well.  He walked around the store with Reagan while I darted up & down the aisles attempting to summon coherent thought & purchase needed groceries.  It was nearing four in the afternoon & I'd been awake for twelve hours already, so the odds weren't good that I'd make it home with all the needed grocery items.  However, one benefit of rising at four in the morning is that if twelve hours later you find yourself in the middle of the afternoon grocery rush, you can be sure you won't forget to load your cart down with box after box of K-cups for the Keurig.

4pm: We made it home.  We unloaded all the groceries (the fake & the real food).  I made some coffee.  My sentences are growing short & declarative; you know the end is near.

At seven o'clock Monday evening, my DVR recorded the return of Jack Bauer.  I have yet to sit & revel in Jack's return.  Trey & I both knew there was no chance we'd sit & watch the two hour premiere in real time.  It was a reflective moment for me, as much one can have a reflective moment on about three hours of sleep.  When I first heard the name Jack Bauer, Trey was in law school; he was always talking about his new friend Jack.  I dismissed Jack as easily as I dismissed all the various forms of entertainment about which Trey gushed.  I grew to love Jack only after Trey graduated law school & was living in West Monroe again.  I'd heard Rush Limbaugh praising Jack, so I thought, okay, maybe I'll check this guy out.  When Trey & I were engaged, we had a regular date with Jack on Monday nights.  When Jack left us, I'd take a weekend here & there & sit & catch up on what Jack was doing during the time I so foolishly refused to meet him.

Today, I cannot even imagine sitting & watching an entire season of 24 in a weekend.  My goal is to watch last Monday's premiere before a new hour of problems befalls Jack this coming Monday.  To quote Ariel, I don't know when, I don't know how, but I will not rebuff Jack now that he's returned to me.  I imagine a late night cup of very caffeinated coffee will likely play a role in my reunion with Jack.

I hope everyone enjoys a wonderful Mother's Day.  Between Jack's return & the 6.8 news on Monday, my week has been made.  Six point eight, baby!  Happy Mother's Day to me.

AZ

Life After Coffee

Did you miss me yesterday?  Without consciously planning to do so I realize I've developed a habit of posting on Monday lately.  This past semester I taught on Tuesdays & Thursdays, & I guess after having Friday, Saturday, & Sunday to regroup & wear pajamas all the time, I felt like writing.

I am not quite finished grading & averaging & deciding if 89.4 is an A or a B (who am I kidding, it's a B!), but the teaching portion of this semester is now behind me, so get ready to watch me throw caution to the wind & post at random whenever the mood strikes.  Yesterday I was away from my MacBook, & so despite having all manner of excitement to relay, I had no proper outlet (Is it just me?  Does anyone else crave a word processor at times?).  Momentarily I'll tell you where I was yesterday, but first I'd like to back up to Saturday.

When I woke Saturday morning, I had no plans for the day (which is a summation of almost every Saturday for me).  Coffee.  That was the plan; everything beyond that was hazy.  I have developed a habit of lounging in the bed on Saturday mornings (since Trey is hanging around the house, rather than leaving for work) while Trey does the morning insulin routine.  I am available for consultation, of course, & it works out well because the door to our bedroom isn't far from the kitchen so he can tell me Reagan's waking number & I can give him her needed basal insulin dosage for that day without either of us having to yell.  It's like I'm one of those radiologists living in India, sitting around the house all day reading X-rays on the computer & phoning in a diagnosis.  She's over 100?  Okay, give her six units of Lantus, & go ahead & hit the power button on that Keurig.  But I digress (if I ever write an autobiography, that'll be the title: But I Digress).

So anyway, it's around 9-ish Saturday morning & I'm still in the bed, doling out medical advice, & thinking about the coffee.  I did get up, & the coffee was good.  Once I had the coffee in me, I decided my goal for the day was to make it to Books-A-Million & (hopefully) purchase two of the books on the book club's summer reading list.

An hour or so after the coffee, I called my mom because on Friday she'd mentioned something about taking the kids to the RiverMarket in downtown Monroe.  This is how the ball got rolling, & things snowballed from there & if you keep reading I'll tell you how I ended up standing in the Build-A-Bear store in the mall nearly in tears.

 I showered & dressed, the whole bit - - make-up, dried & flat ironed my hair, put on pants that don't involve elastic.  By noon I'd accomplished far more than I'd imagined possible while lying in bed contemplating coffee earlier that morning.  I accompanied my parents & the kids to the RiverMarket, & we strolled around (literally, we took the double stroller), & it was kind of hot, so we left, curtailing Reagan's whining with the promise of the merry-go-round at the mall.  Reagan & I rode the merry-go-round twice (VOMIT, VOMIT), while my dad manned Henry & my mom waited for Auntie Anne's to brew fresh coffee.  I know, I know, it's the middle of the afternoon on a busy Saturday, & they had no fresh coffee brewed, but, whatever.  We can't all be multitasking Indian radiologists.

This is a candid shot I took on our first spin on the carousel-o-nausea:

And this is what I got when I asked her to smile:

So, after two whirls on the merry-go-round & with two hot cups of coffee secured, we were all about to trek to Dillard's (where Reagan expressed interest in riding the escalator when we arrived), when my mom suggested we first head to the Build-A-Bear store to see if Nikki was working.

Now you're likely wondering who Nikki is (if you're not, skip this paragraph).  If you read my initial post re:Reagan's diabetes diagnosis, you might recall that when Reagan was hospitalized in January, my Aunt Kathy, a Texan, called the local Build-A-Bear store &, working in tandem with an employee named Nikki, crafted a Hello Kitty for Reagan.  Nikki then broke the news to Kathy that Build-A-Bear doesn't deliver, which was problematic since Kathy lives in Dallas.  After further negotiations (Kathy is a skilled negotiator . . . seriously, she's a car salesman's worst nightmare; we should send her to the Middle East), it was decided that Nikki would take the Hello Kitty to St. Francis herself when she left work that day.  Reagan certainly didn't need another Hello Kitty (although this one is definitely the awesomest one in her collection), but I welcomed anything that put a smile on her face during that initial PICU visit.  A few flashbacks for you:

My Aunt Kathy relayed Nikki's name to my mom, who then relayed the Hello Kitty tale to me, & we decided one day we'd visit the store & thank Nikki & introduce her to Reagan; that day was this past Saturday.  I walked up to the counter, Henry on my hip & Reagan roaming the Build-A-Bear store wide-eyed, & asked the dark-haired young lady manning the register if Nikki was working.  She informed me that I was speaking to Nikki, & so I attempted to tell her why I was inquiring, & I may've teared up a little & started blubbering.  Between my mom & me, we let her know who we were before things got weird, thanked her for her kindness, & introduced her to Reagan.  Today's lesson:  Be a Nikki.  Be a person who's willing to take personal time & go out of your way to brighten someone's day, particularly if that someone is a toddler in PICU.  

Aside from the coffee, the only purchase at the mall was a new pair of shoes for Henry.  Trey has been expressing strong opinions about Henry's wardrobe lately, particularly his shoes, so these are an attempt to shut him up compromise. This is the best pic I've managed:

We left the mall & headed to Books-A-Million, the erroneously named bookstore I rarely visit because they almost never have the book I want, & when coupled with the overflow of sketchy characters from the Wal-Mart next door, Amazon is usually just too tempting.  As much as I love some of the clothing stores & eateries larger cities have to offer, if I could bring one business to this area, it would be a Barnes & Noble.  I love bookstores, particularly those that house a Starbucks; it's like biting into a pastry & discovering it's filled with cream cheese.  Despite the convenience of Amazon shipping a book to my doorstep, or the ability to click a few buttons & download a book to my iPad, there is a deep, abiding nerd need in me to go to a bookstore, walk up & down the aisles (preferably while sipping a latte), & locate & purchase a book.  The smell inside a Barnes & Noble is perhaps the best smell in the world; a mixture of coffee & paperbacks, it is the smell of possibility.

So, back to my original point, the two books I was searching for in Books-A-Million.  The book club has gotten all fancy lately & we actually have a schedule of books for the summer.  This month we're reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn & in July we're reading The Giver in preparation for the August release of the film adaptation.  I took a gamble that Books-A-Million would have both A Tree Grows in Brooklyn & The Giver since these are fairly mainstream titles, & my gamble paid off.  So I am set for summer book club reading.

But, what about June, you ask?  Ah, yes.  After two years of me dropping subtle hints, we are reading A Farewell to Arms in June, a book I already own.  It is quite amusing to reread the paperback copy I first read when I was in high school & laugh at the amateurish notes I made in the margins.  "Rain = foreshadowing" . . . oh to be sixteen again.  Whether it's a genuine interest in the Hemingway classic or an attempt to get me to shut-up, for better or worse, the book club ladies & I are revisiting the Great War in June.  There's no better summer reading than a book about war that features disillusioned soldiers drinking in excess & wandering forlornly in the rain; it just screams, Summer read!

By the way, click here to check out what's for sale on ebay . . . or here if you're looking to spend a little less.

Annnywaaaaay, back to Saturday . . . after a quick dinner, we attempted to get some pictures of the kids in this patch of wildflowers near my parents' house.

So that's how that went.

I took this of Henry swinging a little bit later, & while it's not from his *official* eleven month photo shoot (which is scheduled for later this week), I'll post it now since today he hit the eleven month mark.

My little man is almost a year old.  Cue sighs & misty eyes.

So, yesterday.  I was out of pocket yesterday because we were traveling to & from Jackson for Reagan's second appointment with her pediatric endocrinologist.  Here's what you need to know:

(1) Reagan's appointment was at eight in the morning;

(2) we opted to drive over yesterday morning.

So while I'd love to tell you all about the appointment & the fun in Jackson that followed, it's just not happening at this moment.  Like my many accomplishments Saturday, Monday's successes, of which there many, were made possible by what can only be described as a boatload of coffee.  I shall return soon with the details of our daytrip to Jackson, & relay the coffee drip by drip, because life is what happens after you've had your coffee.

On second thought, I think that's what I'll title my autobiography: Life After Coffee.  But I digress.

AZ

Overlap & an Invite

I am out of school this week for Spring Break.  Naturally, it is thirty degrees outside.  I thought about cleaning up the house a little & digging out my Easter decor, but then I realized that Easter isn't until April 20th this year, & again, it is thirty degrees outside.  I know everyone is complaining & longing for summer, but, I am not.  I reserve my weather complaints for July & August, when it isn't possible to buy & unload groceries without needing a shower, & it gets so hot you think twice about drinking your afternoon cup of coffee.  So go on & whine now, but I will always welcome thirty degrees & the warm sweaters & fires & hot cups of coffee that accompany it.

Yesterday was a kind of a big deal . . . for me at least, that is, but I hope yesterday was great for you too.  Reagan's highest sugar yesterday was 144; I vacillated between weeping & attempting a cartwheel.  I'm just going to type that all out one more time.  Reagan's highest sugar yesterday was 144.  She went to bed at 122 Saturday evening & woke at 116 yesterday morning, with readings of 122 & 136 in between.  She woke at 93 this morning, & her pre-lunch reading was 104.  This may be Greek to some of you, so I will translate it all into the parent of a diabetic child language -

Also, there was a nap overlap of about an hour yesterday afternoon.  What, you say?  Henry took a long nap from about two yesterday afternoon until around four thirty.  Reagan fell asleep watching Finding Nemo a little after three o'clock.  If you're good at math, you now see what I mean by a nap overlap.  Again, I vacillated between weeping & attempting a cartwheel.  I ended up doing neither, opting for a cup of coffee & a handful of these amazing Ghirardelli dark chocolate chips I bought for Reagan because a serving size (16 chips) is 8 total carbs.  I'll just say that I consumed a few more than 8 total carbs as I downed the coffee in the tranquil house.

My mom will likely read about the nap overlap & say, perhaps aloud, You should have gone to sleep!, but I did not.  I don't sleep on cue all that well, & the coffee & dark chocolate chips were just sitting right there, begging.  It's actually a fantastic week for a nap overlap & for me to be home on break because I have things I have to get done, as in an actual deadline.  This weekend my church is having a Ladies' Retreat at Lake D'arbonne & yours truly has been asked to speak Friday evening.  The theme for the weekend is Daughters of the King, & we're all leaving behind the men & children in our lives to discuss the fact that we are princesses.  Tiaras are optional.

Naturally, in preparation for Friday I am working diligently on a presentation in which I will thoroughly examine Ariel & Prince Eric's relationship, & am in deep thought about how exactly to work a Twilight reference into the talk, which, if I can pull it off, will have something to do with immortality . . . something both Edward Cullen & the Lord have to offer.  You think I am kidding, don't you?

If you're a lady & you're reading, you are more than welcome to join us (unless you're my mother-in-law & are helping Trey out with the kids while I speak).  I am short on some of the specifics, but things get started around 6ish Friday at Lake D'arbonne State Park in Farmerville & I believe I speak around 7ish.  Things pick back up Saturday morning around nine with breakfast, & will conclude that afternoon about two.  There will be three speakers on Saturday.  Feel free to come for any or all of it.  Contact me, either through Facebook or the blog, if you want more details.

Moving right along, did anyone else sleep a little sounder last night now that we live in a world in which Matthew McConaughey is an Oscar winner?  It's something I've felt was inevitable since I saw him in A Time to Kill many, many years ago when I was a wise teen.  Even if you didn't watch the show, his win could not have escaped you since his acceptance speech is all over the news today because he thanked - - gasp! - - God!  As the saying goes, you can take the actor out of Texas . . .  Anyway, I usually don't watch the Oscars, but I paid a bit of attention last night for a few reasons.  First, Idina Menzel! sang her hit song from Disney's Frozen (I was kind of hoping she'd break into "Defying Gravity" when she was done).  Second, I was hoping Bradley Cooper would win a supporting actor Oscar for American Hustle since he was denied a well-deserved Oscar for Silver Linings Playbook last year.  Third, I wanted to watch Jennifer Lawrence present the best actor Oscar because there's always a great chance she will do or say something hilarious & inappropriate.  Finally, I was hoping maybe Bradley Cooper would propose to Jennifer Lawrence so they can just get married already.

I hope you have a great week.  Mine is off to a rousing start.  Given that I have two additional days this week to stay in my pajamas all day, I think I can swing posting three chapters of the book Friday, 13, 14, & 15, which will mean we will have arrived at the halfway mark in Edie's saga.  I am anal & like things to be nice & neat like that, so that's also fueling my desire to reread, edit, & post three chapters this week.  I don't want to oversell them, but I like these next few chapters.  They're filled with dialogue, which I like - I like to read dialogue, & as it turns out, I like to write it.  See you Friday.  

AZ  

Free Starbucks

I thought that might get your attention.