Not sure if it's a Chinese thing or not, but the myth goes that if you shave your young baby's hair they will be left with thick beautiful hair as they grow up, particularly when they are older.
It's probably more myth than fact. Genetics would decide your likelihood of thin hair. But, since almost everyone in my family does it or has had it done to them, it seems like it's fact. One of my nieces had very thin hair when she was a baby. We were all 'concerned'. Her sister wasn't like that. We all have thick hair. It was decided to shave her head. She now has thick hair (she's a teen). Coincidence? Hmmm...
We shaved our elder son's hair. It is quite thick. My Husband's hair is also thick. My hair is fairly thick too. But, not all uncles on my side have thick hair. They say baldness is dictated from the mother's side. Yikes! We are going to shave Baby 2's head too. I have decided. Now, just to get The Husband on board.
I once lost all of my hair. Had to wear a wig. Had to get steroid injections to my head. I bought a really cute short blond bob cut wig. Hell, if I had to wear one, might as well have fun with it. It was 10 years ago. I was running my own business, I was working full-time, Franklin was in the hospital to have the surgery so he could do peritoneal dialysis and I was visiting him every day. The schedule was something like this - wake up to do my business. Go to work. Visit Franklin. Go home to do more business stuff. All the while worrying about my Darling. It was a crazy time. Even though I felt I could do it all, my body felt otherwise. Even though I was emotionally and physically drained, I really thought I could keep doing it for longer. I found out when I went to a hair cut and high lights (a girl still has to look good you know. Wish I was still so 'selfish' about my looks now!). The hairdresser found a circular bald batch on the left side of my head. It was a little bigger than a quarter. She suggested I hold off on the highlights until I found out what was happening. Good idea.
I was referred to a dermatologist. At first the receptionist said they were fully booked. I pleaded. Please, I am a young woman in my early 20s. Do you know how important hair is to feeling like a 'normal' woman? She squeezed me in. First it was creams. Then when that didn't work, came the steroid needles to the scalp. Little pricks. But, many of them. In the interim I was also seeing an Acupuncturist and boiling Chinese herbs. I was doing any song and dance it would take to get my hair back. Little do you realize what defines a woman. Her hair and her boobs. Superficial? Yes. But, when people look at you, that's the two things that define them.
My body was obviously saying something had to give. And if I wasn't going to make life changes, it was my hair that was going to 'give'. Franklin was back home. I decided to let go of my business. My hair started to grow back. Who knows which reason it grew back. Was it the steroids shots to the scalp? The acupuncture? The Chinese herbal soups? or letting go some of the responsibilities and stress?
Your body needs rest to repair itself. Stress is a killer to happiness and the body. Recognize when you are taking on too much and ask for help. I am still learning to 'master' that. You would think after so much I would know it by now. But, this is part of the reason I blog. I do read past posts and people's comments. I want to remember when I remember to take care of myself, when I forget to put myself on the list of priorities of things/people to take care of. Also, not to always put me at the bottom of the list either.
It's funny. I just re-read this blog post, and it initially started off with my idea of shaving baby 2's head. How did it end up with a note to myself to take care? The path and emotional journey that expressing yourself through writing will take you is one of self discovery sometimes.
Try it.
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Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Biggest Loser - Winning!
I'm not as swift to update my loses as I am my winnings.
Well, I lost last week. I gained a pound. He lost three pounds.
I won this week. I lost two pounds. He gained three pounds.
I have cheated. Eat too late at night. Had dirty bird (KFC). Double-double coffee. Missed my once-a-week Zumba session. Haven't rowed since the last time. Eat when I'm not hungry. Keep eating even though I'm full. That's why it's up and down. I'm not consistent with my workouts nor my eating habits. And it shows on the scale.
I am exactly down 10-lbs. So, it works out about a pound a week. I'm sure it could be more. Ah well. Slow and steady wins the race right? I can only hope that my brother's wife keeps making cakes. LOL.
Well, I lost last week. I gained a pound. He lost three pounds.
I won this week. I lost two pounds. He gained three pounds.
I have cheated. Eat too late at night. Had dirty bird (KFC). Double-double coffee. Missed my once-a-week Zumba session. Haven't rowed since the last time. Eat when I'm not hungry. Keep eating even though I'm full. That's why it's up and down. I'm not consistent with my workouts nor my eating habits. And it shows on the scale.
I am exactly down 10-lbs. So, it works out about a pound a week. I'm sure it could be more. Ah well. Slow and steady wins the race right? I can only hope that my brother's wife keeps making cakes. LOL.
Help or Burden?
My parents, Marcus' Godmother, my nieces, and my favourite brother (also, Marcus' Godfather) are my go-to people when I need help. They are there for us every time. I trust them completely with my children. I know they love them and us completely.
I feel so guilty asking for their help each time Franklin has a hospital stay. The last one was in October last year. So, it is fairly often. Often enough at least. Watching my kids for hours, day after day, or giving me drives, or picking Franklin up and driving him all the way home, visiting him in the hospital, including our family in their prayer groups, grocery shopping, feeding us, listening, and loving. The list is so much longer, but it hurts to say it all. Hurts, because I feel so ....guilty? I have to impose on them time and time again. And during the 10+years it's added up to a life time of payback I could never repay. I hate asking for help, but when Franklin's not feeling well I have to....again and again. I hate being a hindrance to their daily lives. I hate being an encumbrance each time I call for help.
I know they love us. They want to be there for us. They will help us if they can. No strings attached. They have NEVER said or done anything to make me question their unconditional help. But, I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop they sigh when I call again for help. I can only do as much as I can on my own so I don't harass them more than necessary. Because our reality is that necessary will come again.
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All of these emotions are stemming from the following saga, starting with Balance between Husband and Children.
I feel so guilty asking for their help each time Franklin has a hospital stay. The last one was in October last year. So, it is fairly often. Often enough at least. Watching my kids for hours, day after day, or giving me drives, or picking Franklin up and driving him all the way home, visiting him in the hospital, including our family in their prayer groups, grocery shopping, feeding us, listening, and loving. The list is so much longer, but it hurts to say it all. Hurts, because I feel so ....guilty? I have to impose on them time and time again. And during the 10+years it's added up to a life time of payback I could never repay. I hate asking for help, but when Franklin's not feeling well I have to....again and again. I hate being a hindrance to their daily lives. I hate being an encumbrance each time I call for help.
I know they love us. They want to be there for us. They will help us if they can. No strings attached. They have NEVER said or done anything to make me question their unconditional help. But, I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop they sigh when I call again for help. I can only do as much as I can on my own so I don't harass them more than necessary. Because our reality is that necessary will come again.
[polldaddy poll=4670029]
All of these emotions are stemming from the following saga, starting with Balance between Husband and Children.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Balance Act III
The plan was to stay home. Do 5 loads of laundry, wash dishes, bake cookies with The Boy, take a nap, and watch movies. It started out o.k. Both kiddies slept in 1-hr longer than usual. They're tired too from all this. I call to check how The Husband is doing. Did he get dialysis? The nurse's response was "weren't you here yesterday?". What?!? That set me off! I still try to stay calm and explain that I was told in the morning he would be going in the afternoon, but he still hadn't received any when I left late afternoon. A curt "yes, he got it" was her response. Also, Franklin pulled out one of the tubes. WTF?? Why?! This b!t3h wasn't explaining anything.
I didn't want to bother W again considering everything she and my nieces have done for me. Niecey had plans today. But, fearing the worst I had to get down there. I would bring the baby in with me if I had to. I call W to ask her to drive down with me again. As much as I hate to burden her again and the guilt I feel, I put that all aside because I need to find out what's happening to my Darling! I woke her up (add another lbs of guilt) and explain the situation. I start crying. I am afraid of not knowing and thinking the worst.
She is a pillar of strength. She calms me down. Helps me line up what I need to get done so I can get going. Feed baby. Pump milk. Dress children. Arrange Marcus care. Did I eat? I wouldn't have even thought of that to even be put on the list! I am determined to get going.
I pack up the car and drive over to get W. I am ready to tear someone up! If anything has happened to my Darling the poor person who has to explain it to me will feel my wrath. Don't get it twisted. I may live in the suburbs now, but I done grow up downtown. I am angry and someone will pay.
To my surprise Niecey has canceled her plans and coming with us (add more lbs of guilt and burden). I push all my emotions of guilt, burden, fear, and anger aside. None of those emotions are helping matters. I feel empty.
As we drive down Franklin calls. His mom is there. He is o.k. He didn't even know he pulled out the tube. It's been put back. The journey to recovery continues.
I feel emotionally drained.
I didn't want to bother W again considering everything she and my nieces have done for me. Niecey had plans today. But, fearing the worst I had to get down there. I would bring the baby in with me if I had to. I call W to ask her to drive down with me again. As much as I hate to burden her again and the guilt I feel, I put that all aside because I need to find out what's happening to my Darling! I woke her up (add another lbs of guilt) and explain the situation. I start crying. I am afraid of not knowing and thinking the worst.
She is a pillar of strength. She calms me down. Helps me line up what I need to get done so I can get going. Feed baby. Pump milk. Dress children. Arrange Marcus care. Did I eat? I wouldn't have even thought of that to even be put on the list! I am determined to get going.
I pack up the car and drive over to get W. I am ready to tear someone up! If anything has happened to my Darling the poor person who has to explain it to me will feel my wrath. Don't get it twisted. I may live in the suburbs now, but I done grow up downtown. I am angry and someone will pay.
To my surprise Niecey has canceled her plans and coming with us (add more lbs of guilt and burden). I push all my emotions of guilt, burden, fear, and anger aside. None of those emotions are helping matters. I feel empty.
As we drive down Franklin calls. His mom is there. He is o.k. He didn't even know he pulled out the tube. It's been put back. The journey to recovery continues.
I feel emotionally drained.
Balancing Act II
No Zumba. No Swimming lessons. But at least I was going to go see him. All thanks to the time, generosity, kindness, patience, and unconditional love of Marcus' Godmother (W) and my parents. My parents would watch my toddler while W. would drive me down to see The Husband and wait in the car with the baby. I was able to have it all. See my husband in the hospital and not have the kids exposed to any germs at the hospital.
I had told one of his brothers that he was there and fortunately met him in the hall. We talked with Franklin about telling his mom. We chatted and joked it up a bit. It didn't help that one of the 'roommates' had the t.v. on as if they were in their own living room. Get a headset or turn it down! Jeeze. Also, he was still hadn't gone for dialysis. I tried to get him a semi-private, asked the nurses to help us defuse the issue with the roommate (since Frankie 'yelled' at them him the night before), and went to get him some drinkage (no food allowed. he hasn't eaten since Wednesday night!). Text comes in "baby's starting to melt down". I have to leave. Balance.
Off to my weekly family dinner. Home cooked meal. Hang with the fam. I call and tell his mom. She is thankful that I told her. I am lucky to have such a great mother-in-law. She has her 'annoying' bits, but who doesn't? It's a 'good' day. Well, good as it's going to get. When I go home, my brother offers to drive me and my car home. I say "it's ok. I've been doing it". He had the best answer "I know you have, but now you don't have to".
Read about the next day with Balance Act III post.
Or read how it all started with Balance between Husband and Children post.
I had told one of his brothers that he was there and fortunately met him in the hall. We talked with Franklin about telling his mom. We chatted and joked it up a bit. It didn't help that one of the 'roommates' had the t.v. on as if they were in their own living room. Get a headset or turn it down! Jeeze. Also, he was still hadn't gone for dialysis. I tried to get him a semi-private, asked the nurses to help us defuse the issue with the roommate (since Frankie 'yelled' at them him the night before), and went to get him some drinkage (no food allowed. he hasn't eaten since Wednesday night!). Text comes in "baby's starting to melt down". I have to leave. Balance.
Off to my weekly family dinner. Home cooked meal. Hang with the fam. I call and tell his mom. She is thankful that I told her. I am lucky to have such a great mother-in-law. She has her 'annoying' bits, but who doesn't? It's a 'good' day. Well, good as it's going to get. When I go home, my brother offers to drive me and my car home. I say "it's ok. I've been doing it". He had the best answer "I know you have, but now you don't have to".
Read about the next day with Balance Act III post.
Or read how it all started with Balance between Husband and Children post.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Balance between Husband and Children
The kids will win 99.9% of the time. But, it breaks my heart to do it.
Franklin woke me at 5am. "Babe, I'm in pain". Oh no. It was his day off of doing dialysis treatment (he gets two days off a week because his job is keeping himself alive with proper treatment). I call the ambulance and the roller coaster ride begins.
I leave the kids with my parents for 5-hrs. Then leave them with their Godmother for another 5-hrs. Franklin is at Emerg at the hospital up here for 15-hrs before they transfer him to the proper hospital. They have blinders on as soon as they hear dialysis. "We do not provide treatment for that here". No $h!t Sherlock! Treat the issue while you make arrangements to get him dialysis at the right hospital. Instead, it takes 8- hrs to finally get the go-ahead to transfer him to the right hospital, all the while only taking 1 x-ray and keep him pumped with narcotics for the pain. It takes another 7-hrs to finally transfer him. Note: Since it took so long, the dialysis treatment centre at the hospital is closed for the night and he will now be 2-days without treatment. Toxins, liquid level, and blood pressure is on the rise. His face, belly, and hands are already puffy.
I have been popping in and out a couple of times to feed my 5-month old and to transfer him between caretakers. He's not taking to the bottled breast milk that I've pumped which isn't much since I haven't pumped on the regular since the first month when I wanted Franklin to try to do some feedings. I keep telling myself to keep an emergency supply in the freezer. sigh. When I finally pick up the kids, both my loving ad indispensable go-to offer to take care of my toddler tomorrow if I need a break. My poor baby was crying a lot and very loudly with both of them.
I need to be there for m husband. To speak for him since he is on morphine every two hours. To rub his back with my reassuring touch. To feed him ice chips since he can't have food, hasn't had food in a couple of days, and he drank half a bottle of iced tea in one long gulp he was so thirsty.
But, how can I be there for him? Bring my 5-month old to spend hours at the hospital? Every instinct says (and everyone else also) it is not a good idea to do that. I agree. Especially when I was with him at Emergency and saw 3 rooms where anyone entering the room had to put on a mask, gown, and gloves to enter. Even the food server! What kind of airborne stuff do they have?! As a healthy adult, I might be o.k. but, I just cannot risk that with my baby. Or can I?
I am torn. It physically hurts to think of my husband drugged up at the hospital on his own. But, I just can't bring the baby down there. Baby wins. But, really, there are no winners here. We all pay the price of this horrible kidney failure.
I am afraid. My uncle passed away several months ago very quickly (1 week!) when he went to the hospital. He also had kidney disease. Franklin has been in hospital many times, but this time with new baby, uncle's recent death, and my 5am wake ups (with no naps during the day) for the last few weeks, I broke down and cried a bit. Sobbed actually. Red rimmed eyeballs, puffy lids, snot drippings, just a plain mess.
I've been sticking my head in the ground and refuse to acknowledge the death sentence we are living. Without dialysis he will die. It is slowly killing him too. The very thing that is saving him is killing him. I live in my bubble and pretend he will be here forever and we will share our golden years exploring the next chapter in our lives. It's the only way I know how to survive each day for the last 10+ years. But, right now with him in the hospital alone feels too bright and harsh. Too real. I want him home and I want to stick my head in the sand again. Ignorance is bliss.
Do I tell his mother? He says no. She will be upset. If I tell, he gets mad. If I don't tell she gets mad. This is not the first time I haven't told her of his hospital stay. I know as a mother I would want to know. But, what do I do as a wife?
I hate incompetent, cold-hearted medical "professionals", bureaucracy, shortage of beds in hospitals, and most of all Kidney Disease.
This sucks.
See the next day in Balance Act II
[polldaddy poll=4658202] [polldaddy poll=4658220]
Franklin woke me at 5am. "Babe, I'm in pain". Oh no. It was his day off of doing dialysis treatment (he gets two days off a week because his job is keeping himself alive with proper treatment). I call the ambulance and the roller coaster ride begins.
I leave the kids with my parents for 5-hrs. Then leave them with their Godmother for another 5-hrs. Franklin is at Emerg at the hospital up here for 15-hrs before they transfer him to the proper hospital. They have blinders on as soon as they hear dialysis. "We do not provide treatment for that here". No $h!t Sherlock! Treat the issue while you make arrangements to get him dialysis at the right hospital. Instead, it takes 8- hrs to finally get the go-ahead to transfer him to the right hospital, all the while only taking 1 x-ray and keep him pumped with narcotics for the pain. It takes another 7-hrs to finally transfer him. Note: Since it took so long, the dialysis treatment centre at the hospital is closed for the night and he will now be 2-days without treatment. Toxins, liquid level, and blood pressure is on the rise. His face, belly, and hands are already puffy.
I have been popping in and out a couple of times to feed my 5-month old and to transfer him between caretakers. He's not taking to the bottled breast milk that I've pumped which isn't much since I haven't pumped on the regular since the first month when I wanted Franklin to try to do some feedings. I keep telling myself to keep an emergency supply in the freezer. sigh. When I finally pick up the kids, both my loving ad indispensable go-to offer to take care of my toddler tomorrow if I need a break. My poor baby was crying a lot and very loudly with both of them.
I need to be there for m husband. To speak for him since he is on morphine every two hours. To rub his back with my reassuring touch. To feed him ice chips since he can't have food, hasn't had food in a couple of days, and he drank half a bottle of iced tea in one long gulp he was so thirsty.
But, how can I be there for him? Bring my 5-month old to spend hours at the hospital? Every instinct says (and everyone else also) it is not a good idea to do that. I agree. Especially when I was with him at Emergency and saw 3 rooms where anyone entering the room had to put on a mask, gown, and gloves to enter. Even the food server! What kind of airborne stuff do they have?! As a healthy adult, I might be o.k. but, I just cannot risk that with my baby. Or can I?
I am torn. It physically hurts to think of my husband drugged up at the hospital on his own. But, I just can't bring the baby down there. Baby wins. But, really, there are no winners here. We all pay the price of this horrible kidney failure.
I am afraid. My uncle passed away several months ago very quickly (1 week!) when he went to the hospital. He also had kidney disease. Franklin has been in hospital many times, but this time with new baby, uncle's recent death, and my 5am wake ups (with no naps during the day) for the last few weeks, I broke down and cried a bit. Sobbed actually. Red rimmed eyeballs, puffy lids, snot drippings, just a plain mess.
I've been sticking my head in the ground and refuse to acknowledge the death sentence we are living. Without dialysis he will die. It is slowly killing him too. The very thing that is saving him is killing him. I live in my bubble and pretend he will be here forever and we will share our golden years exploring the next chapter in our lives. It's the only way I know how to survive each day for the last 10+ years. But, right now with him in the hospital alone feels too bright and harsh. Too real. I want him home and I want to stick my head in the sand again. Ignorance is bliss.
Do I tell his mother? He says no. She will be upset. If I tell, he gets mad. If I don't tell she gets mad. This is not the first time I haven't told her of his hospital stay. I know as a mother I would want to know. But, what do I do as a wife?
I hate incompetent, cold-hearted medical "professionals", bureaucracy, shortage of beds in hospitals, and most of all Kidney Disease.
This sucks.
See the next day in Balance Act II
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