(One of my favorite pictures of her on the top of Mt. Evans in Colorado)
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Happy Happy Birthday...
Angelina Bangelina...my first baby sister! Happy Happy Birthday today!!!
(One of my favorite pictures of her on the top of Mt. Evans in Colorado)
(One of my favorite pictures of her on the top of Mt. Evans in Colorado)
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Reform this...
While so many are getting worked up about healthcare reform, I have found myself strangely taking a back-seat to all the hubbub. And tonight, I think I was able to put my finger on why that is.
Dealing with health care is my every day life. I don't have time to change the system (that absolutely stinks by the way)...I am too busy fighting with it day in and day out.
Right now, on my list are the following:
Called yesterday to re-order Max's formula and enteral supplies so we get them before we run out next Tuesday, yes, exactly on Tuesday. They should all arrive Monday.
Still trying to get Max's talker approved. It was ordered last November. The company that was giving us such a hard time with it decided to go ahead and sell to a much bigger company and just drop us into the lap of the new company. Monday morning I am calling to speak with our new representative there and ask where we are in the process. Last I heard, we are going to have to start all over again. Insurance issued a check back in March for their portion of the talker, $4,900. There is a remaining $5,000 that needs to be paid by Medicaid before we will get it.
Talked all last week to our DME guy about Max's stander, ordered in May. It's been denied twice by Medicaid. They don't see why we don't choose a cheaper one. They are appealing again. I've contacted the company who makes the stander to see if they can help, and they will have their funding team look at the letter of medical necessity.
We've been looking at and trying our hardest to figure out just how exactly are we going to be able to afford a vehicle that will work for Max. It is getting extremely difficult for us to lift him into his car seat. At best, we can find a van that would JUST fit us and Max for around $50,000. That wouldn't include extra space for diaper changes, or other passengers. To get those things, we're looking at around $100,000. None of which would be covered by insurance or medicaid.
Max is outgrowing him "kick-around" wheelchair. He has a more structured chair, but doesn't tolerate it much. So we have his jogging wheelchair...which he's up to the top and hanging off the end. With all the other equipment trying to go through Medicaid right now, and the fact that we got the brand new chair that he won't sit in at the beginning of the year, Medicaid won't pay for a new one. I will be contacting a local non-profit to see what they have in the way of chairs that might fit him. Then I will fill out their 20 page application forms to see if we will be approved or denied.
I got the paperwork in the mail today to re-evaluate his status for Medicaid. Yearly they look over everything and determine if he still "needs" assistance. I have to look through all the paperwork and sign it and get it back in within a week so we don't lose the Madicaid waiver.
I have to look for a new OT, since his current one will not be working for the agency that sends her out after Sept. 10th. She was great with Max, and he worked hard with her. But I will need to find someone who is not a contract worker, as I am not in the mood to get used to someone, and Max get used to them only to have them leave in 6 month's time.
Monday will be another phone call to Neurology to check up on Max's lack of sleep. We will likely be coming in for EEG, Video EEG, or an overnight stay for full observation. This could likely mean more medicine (which we pay for out of pocket from a pharmacy in Canada, because it is STILL not FDA approved). Or a whole new medicine that we will have to learn.
I will be contacting our PT about a new therapy suit that will help with Max's body tone. I'm not holding my breath that it would at all be approved, since it hasn't even been a year since we got his last suit...which he has of course outgrown. Seriously...KIDS GROW!!!!!! That's the whole point of all of this therapy and treating for life!
I will be calling the pharmacy to check on a medicine he takes for him metabolic disease to see when exactly it will be in stock. Since Max is the only patient in the entire Walgreen's database that takes it, they have to order from the manufacturer. Which is perfect, since we are completely OUT!
You see, these are just the things at the top of my mind at 12:30 on a Sunday morning. Things that keep me up. My list of health care issues that are faced on a daily and weekly basis around here.
So at the end of my day...the fighters for their side of health care reform, can have their fights. They can yell and picket at the townhall meetings...they can agree completely with a totally new system. Because there are people in this country that just like to argue.
And I will fall back exhausted, without an ounce of fight in me over things that the majority of the public doesn't even understand. Just wishing that some of those people so heated about it all would make it so even one of the things on my list was easier at the end of the day.
Dealing with health care is my every day life. I don't have time to change the system (that absolutely stinks by the way)...I am too busy fighting with it day in and day out.
Right now, on my list are the following:
Called yesterday to re-order Max's formula and enteral supplies so we get them before we run out next Tuesday, yes, exactly on Tuesday. They should all arrive Monday.
Still trying to get Max's talker approved. It was ordered last November. The company that was giving us such a hard time with it decided to go ahead and sell to a much bigger company and just drop us into the lap of the new company. Monday morning I am calling to speak with our new representative there and ask where we are in the process. Last I heard, we are going to have to start all over again. Insurance issued a check back in March for their portion of the talker, $4,900. There is a remaining $5,000 that needs to be paid by Medicaid before we will get it.
Talked all last week to our DME guy about Max's stander, ordered in May. It's been denied twice by Medicaid. They don't see why we don't choose a cheaper one. They are appealing again. I've contacted the company who makes the stander to see if they can help, and they will have their funding team look at the letter of medical necessity.
We've been looking at and trying our hardest to figure out just how exactly are we going to be able to afford a vehicle that will work for Max. It is getting extremely difficult for us to lift him into his car seat. At best, we can find a van that would JUST fit us and Max for around $50,000. That wouldn't include extra space for diaper changes, or other passengers. To get those things, we're looking at around $100,000. None of which would be covered by insurance or medicaid.
Max is outgrowing him "kick-around" wheelchair. He has a more structured chair, but doesn't tolerate it much. So we have his jogging wheelchair...which he's up to the top and hanging off the end. With all the other equipment trying to go through Medicaid right now, and the fact that we got the brand new chair that he won't sit in at the beginning of the year, Medicaid won't pay for a new one. I will be contacting a local non-profit to see what they have in the way of chairs that might fit him. Then I will fill out their 20 page application forms to see if we will be approved or denied.
I got the paperwork in the mail today to re-evaluate his status for Medicaid. Yearly they look over everything and determine if he still "needs" assistance. I have to look through all the paperwork and sign it and get it back in within a week so we don't lose the Madicaid waiver.
I have to look for a new OT, since his current one will not be working for the agency that sends her out after Sept. 10th. She was great with Max, and he worked hard with her. But I will need to find someone who is not a contract worker, as I am not in the mood to get used to someone, and Max get used to them only to have them leave in 6 month's time.
Monday will be another phone call to Neurology to check up on Max's lack of sleep. We will likely be coming in for EEG, Video EEG, or an overnight stay for full observation. This could likely mean more medicine (which we pay for out of pocket from a pharmacy in Canada, because it is STILL not FDA approved). Or a whole new medicine that we will have to learn.
I will be contacting our PT about a new therapy suit that will help with Max's body tone. I'm not holding my breath that it would at all be approved, since it hasn't even been a year since we got his last suit...which he has of course outgrown. Seriously...KIDS GROW!!!!!! That's the whole point of all of this therapy and treating for life!
I will be calling the pharmacy to check on a medicine he takes for him metabolic disease to see when exactly it will be in stock. Since Max is the only patient in the entire Walgreen's database that takes it, they have to order from the manufacturer. Which is perfect, since we are completely OUT!
You see, these are just the things at the top of my mind at 12:30 on a Sunday morning. Things that keep me up. My list of health care issues that are faced on a daily and weekly basis around here.
So at the end of my day...the fighters for their side of health care reform, can have their fights. They can yell and picket at the townhall meetings...they can agree completely with a totally new system. Because there are people in this country that just like to argue.
And I will fall back exhausted, without an ounce of fight in me over things that the majority of the public doesn't even understand. Just wishing that some of those people so heated about it all would make it so even one of the things on my list was easier at the end of the day.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
For the moms...
Saw this today on one of the blogs I follow for parents of Special Needs. I thought it was great for all moms. Then I saw my friend, Jenny posted it too, and wanted to share it here too.
The Invisible Mother
Written by Deborah
Monica, one of the best moms in the world to one of the most beautiful little girls in the world sent me the article below. I loved it and know you will also.
The Invisible Mother ……
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously, not.
No one can see that I'm on the phone, or cooking, or vacuuming the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The Invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to
order, 'Can you pick me up at 5:30?'
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, 4 life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
1. No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
2. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam
that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no
cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile about. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we're doing it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Deborah can be found writing here at 5MFSN every Wednesday, and can also be found at .Pipecleaner Dreams.
Also, today is Dairy Queen Miracle Treat Day. So go get a blizzard and help out The Children's Hospitals in your area!
The Invisible Mother
Written by Deborah
Monica, one of the best moms in the world to one of the most beautiful little girls in the world sent me the article below. I loved it and know you will also.
The Invisible Mother ……
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously, not.
No one can see that I'm on the phone, or cooking, or vacuuming the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The Invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to
order, 'Can you pick me up at 5:30?'
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, 4 life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
1. No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
2. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam
that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no
cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile about. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we're doing it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Deborah can be found writing here at 5MFSN every Wednesday, and can also be found at .Pipecleaner Dreams.
Also, today is Dairy Queen Miracle Treat Day. So go get a blizzard and help out The Children's Hospitals in your area!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
A year on...
Last year on August 12th, our lives changed forever...twice.
At around 2:00am I got a text from my mom, "It's a girl, Adeline May". Around 6:00am we got up to take Max in for his g-tube surgery.
Before we left for the hospital, I snapped a picture of Max's belly. I wanted to get a shot of it before there was a hole there, before there was a piece of plastic sticking out of it, or a scar if it was ever removed.
A year later, I look at it and think, oh my gosh he was skinny. Too skinny. Which is why we got the gtube in the first place. But oh my...so skinny.
And lanky too! Here he is, all 28 pounds of him.
But it's amazing what a year can do. Here he is tonight...45 pounds now.
And still lanky...but chunky too!
We've come a long way in just a short year! He's healthy, and so big and strong. Which makes all of the worry and frustration and guilt I had about the decision to get him the g-tube worth it!
And the other life-changer on August 12th last year...this precious little baby niece. Baby Adeline!
She's changed a lot in the year too.
But one thing has remained...these two are like twins born 5 years apart. They L-O-V-E each other!
I mean love love love love LOVE each other.
I'll leave you with a couple of clips of Max and Addie's interactions.
He's enamored with her, and she dotes on him. She's so careful with him, and he's learning to be careful with her. Luckily they are both very tolerant of each other as they both learn!
Here is one of my favorite interactions I've seen with them, and luckily got a video of it.
At around 2:00am I got a text from my mom, "It's a girl, Adeline May". Around 6:00am we got up to take Max in for his g-tube surgery.
Before we left for the hospital, I snapped a picture of Max's belly. I wanted to get a shot of it before there was a hole there, before there was a piece of plastic sticking out of it, or a scar if it was ever removed.
A year later, I look at it and think, oh my gosh he was skinny. Too skinny. Which is why we got the gtube in the first place. But oh my...so skinny.
And lanky too! Here he is, all 28 pounds of him.
But it's amazing what a year can do. Here he is tonight...45 pounds now.
And still lanky...but chunky too!
We've come a long way in just a short year! He's healthy, and so big and strong. Which makes all of the worry and frustration and guilt I had about the decision to get him the g-tube worth it!
And the other life-changer on August 12th last year...this precious little baby niece. Baby Adeline!
She's changed a lot in the year too.
But one thing has remained...these two are like twins born 5 years apart. They L-O-V-E each other!
I mean love love love love LOVE each other.
I'll leave you with a couple of clips of Max and Addie's interactions.
He's enamored with her, and she dotes on him. She's so careful with him, and he's learning to be careful with her. Luckily they are both very tolerant of each other as they both learn!
Here is one of my favorite interactions I've seen with them, and luckily got a video of it.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Denial...
“Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.”
Mark Twain
When Max was almost one year old, we had a physical therapy appointment that shook me to the core. Steve was living/working in California at the time, and I remember calling bawling my eyes out on the way home.
The therapist had the nerve to tell me that we needed to get Max a wheelchair. A WHEELCHAIR! At that time I guess I was still under the impression that we would just get him to sit up and then stand up and then walk. Why on earth would we need to get him a wheelchair? I didn't want some big clunky metal wheelchair to put my little baby in!
After I came off of my crying fit, I started to realize that I was in a sort of denial about Max's physical abilities. And that was maybe the hardest part of the whole situation. It was likely that Max would need a wheelchair...and if that was the probability...then maybe he would ALWAYS need a wheelchair. That was a hard thing to comprehend.
Max has had several wheelchairs since then. He's getting to the point where he's about outgrown the ones he has, and we'll need to get him another one. And a bigger Max means a bigger wheelchair. And a bigger wheelchair means a bigger car. And maybe, just maybe I won't be able to lift him into that car anymore. Maybe, just maybe I won't be able to lift him at all anymore.
Denial.
It's back. After several years of feeling like a rock-star when it came to being a special mom to a special kid, taking him across the pond and back, moving cross-country and back, traveling here and there, carrying him around at will...I'm finding I can't do those things anymore.
Today I took Max to the mall by myself to meet my sister. As I was putting him in his car seat I thought, #1 I hope I don't drop him!, #2 I hope I don't hurt myself! #3 How am I going to get him out once we get there and back in?!
I've been going along, seeing him grow, knowing he's getting bigger, but still thinking I can tote him around like the little peanut he once was. Denying that in truth, he is much too big for me to be lifting. Or carrying, or holding all day on his attached days.
We went to the doctor last week for an exam and to try to figure out why he's been waking so much in the night, having fitful nights of sleep. We're still working on that issue, but we did go away knowing that he weighs 45 pounds. And is 46 inches tall. I am 5'4" and 130 pounds. Next year will he be 5 feet? Weighing closer to 100 pounds?
I'm sure this issue of thinking life is one thing, and realizing one day it's all together different will always be the case with Max. But for now, we got a new tool to help ease into the transitions of reality.
Last month, I was looking on Craigslist for special needs equipment...you know just to pass the time. I found a Hoyer lift. These machines cost around $2,000 brand new. This one on Craigslist was $100. (Yes only two zeros) It had only been used two times before the previous user passed away. Our DME rep. told us we would need to wait a year before trying to get Max one because of all of the equipment we were needing to get this year, so we went ahead an bought this one we found.
Steve went to pick it up, and we ordered a sling to fit Max to lift him. Last week, we got the sling, and here are the results.
Here he is in his Chill-out Chair. He's not sleeping, the flash just made him close his eyes. I've got the sling under him at this point because I had used the lift previously to put him in the chair to eat, and just left it under him.
I moved the chair within the legs of the lift to get him right under the arms.
Got him all hooked in and ready for take-off.
Here's a short video of him going up...don't mind the Tarzan soundtrack in the background...we were rocking out!
And now he's up, out of his chair, and ready to be moved to the floor for a diaper change, to his bed, or to a bath!
This time, he was being put down for a diaper change after eating. Here's a video showing how slowly and gently and puts him down. And how comfortable he is with it.
It's helping. But I am still finding myself wanting to quickly move him, or carry him, or hold him like I think I can. But with every manual lift I remember, there are tools to help me care for him. I just have to move out of the way of myself and use them. They are just tools...to help in the care for Max. They are not Max. And if I can remember that, I think the denial won't creep up on me so much.
Mark Twain
When Max was almost one year old, we had a physical therapy appointment that shook me to the core. Steve was living/working in California at the time, and I remember calling bawling my eyes out on the way home.
The therapist had the nerve to tell me that we needed to get Max a wheelchair. A WHEELCHAIR! At that time I guess I was still under the impression that we would just get him to sit up and then stand up and then walk. Why on earth would we need to get him a wheelchair? I didn't want some big clunky metal wheelchair to put my little baby in!
After I came off of my crying fit, I started to realize that I was in a sort of denial about Max's physical abilities. And that was maybe the hardest part of the whole situation. It was likely that Max would need a wheelchair...and if that was the probability...then maybe he would ALWAYS need a wheelchair. That was a hard thing to comprehend.
Max has had several wheelchairs since then. He's getting to the point where he's about outgrown the ones he has, and we'll need to get him another one. And a bigger Max means a bigger wheelchair. And a bigger wheelchair means a bigger car. And maybe, just maybe I won't be able to lift him into that car anymore. Maybe, just maybe I won't be able to lift him at all anymore.
Denial.
It's back. After several years of feeling like a rock-star when it came to being a special mom to a special kid, taking him across the pond and back, moving cross-country and back, traveling here and there, carrying him around at will...I'm finding I can't do those things anymore.
Today I took Max to the mall by myself to meet my sister. As I was putting him in his car seat I thought, #1 I hope I don't drop him!, #2 I hope I don't hurt myself! #3 How am I going to get him out once we get there and back in?!
I've been going along, seeing him grow, knowing he's getting bigger, but still thinking I can tote him around like the little peanut he once was. Denying that in truth, he is much too big for me to be lifting. Or carrying, or holding all day on his attached days.
We went to the doctor last week for an exam and to try to figure out why he's been waking so much in the night, having fitful nights of sleep. We're still working on that issue, but we did go away knowing that he weighs 45 pounds. And is 46 inches tall. I am 5'4" and 130 pounds. Next year will he be 5 feet? Weighing closer to 100 pounds?
I'm sure this issue of thinking life is one thing, and realizing one day it's all together different will always be the case with Max. But for now, we got a new tool to help ease into the transitions of reality.
Last month, I was looking on Craigslist for special needs equipment...you know just to pass the time. I found a Hoyer lift. These machines cost around $2,000 brand new. This one on Craigslist was $100. (Yes only two zeros) It had only been used two times before the previous user passed away. Our DME rep. told us we would need to wait a year before trying to get Max one because of all of the equipment we were needing to get this year, so we went ahead an bought this one we found.
Steve went to pick it up, and we ordered a sling to fit Max to lift him. Last week, we got the sling, and here are the results.
Here he is in his Chill-out Chair. He's not sleeping, the flash just made him close his eyes. I've got the sling under him at this point because I had used the lift previously to put him in the chair to eat, and just left it under him.
I moved the chair within the legs of the lift to get him right under the arms.
Got him all hooked in and ready for take-off.
Here's a short video of him going up...don't mind the Tarzan soundtrack in the background...we were rocking out!
And now he's up, out of his chair, and ready to be moved to the floor for a diaper change, to his bed, or to a bath!
This time, he was being put down for a diaper change after eating. Here's a video showing how slowly and gently and puts him down. And how comfortable he is with it.
It's helping. But I am still finding myself wanting to quickly move him, or carry him, or hold him like I think I can. But with every manual lift I remember, there are tools to help me care for him. I just have to move out of the way of myself and use them. They are just tools...to help in the care for Max. They are not Max. And if I can remember that, I think the denial won't creep up on me so much.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Surprise...
Have you guessed my surprise yet?
STINKY BABY NIECE!!!!!!!!!
She climbs the stairs...
And wants to know why Aunty is following her...
And walks up the stairs...and her mommy...my sister...who has, brought her family home and will be staying with us until they get settled into their own place!!!!
Let the good times roll!
STINKY BABY NIECE!!!!!!!!!
She climbs the stairs...
And wants to know why Aunty is following her...
And walks up the stairs...and her mommy...my sister...who has, brought her family home and will be staying with us until they get settled into their own place!!!!
Let the good times roll!
The short and skinny...
I could make this a long dramatic post about what I've learned and yadda yadda yadda...but the short and skinny of it is...I took my CNA test yesterday and passed the written test, but failed one skill out of five on the skills test. It was a ridiculous mistake, one I absolutely should have caught, but my nerves got the best of me and I read the scale wrong. Instead of seeing the patient weighed 155, I saw 130. It was a split second decision, but once I wrote it down and said I was finished, there was no going back to correct it, and I caught it was wrong immediately!
I finished all 4 of the rest of my skills perfectly, but felt humiliated and embarrassed and totally like I had let myself down. I left the testing room in tears, and knew I had failed it. (You fail even one portion, you fail the whole thing). I had sat there from 7:30 yesterday morning, and was the very last person to test. I was spent, exhausted, and just completely over it. And as soon as she told me I just bawled and bawled. I'd worked so hard to get it right and messed up something so stupid.
I came home and cried more...and kicked myself a few more times. But I know it was just one of those moments in time that happen in life...and surely I'll learn from it...and go back and do it perfectly! I have to send in the fail results and re-test at the earliest date they have. In the mean time, my "trial period" is up with working as Max's CNA. I have to be certified by the state to continue on. So I will be taking a break from that until I'm fully certified. Luckily I only have to do the skills, not the written portion again.
Today, I'm up and doing all the things a mommy does...especially when that mommy has to do things a CNA would do. And that's frustrating to me. Knowing I know it...but I'll drop the CNA status for a while and just be mommy. I prefer that title any day.
I'll keep you all posted about when my next test will be!
Oh...and as for the surprise for today...the stinkiness is
on their way home...and will be staying with us for a while...
Now if that's not something to smile about...I don't know what is!
I finished all 4 of the rest of my skills perfectly, but felt humiliated and embarrassed and totally like I had let myself down. I left the testing room in tears, and knew I had failed it. (You fail even one portion, you fail the whole thing). I had sat there from 7:30 yesterday morning, and was the very last person to test. I was spent, exhausted, and just completely over it. And as soon as she told me I just bawled and bawled. I'd worked so hard to get it right and messed up something so stupid.
I came home and cried more...and kicked myself a few more times. But I know it was just one of those moments in time that happen in life...and surely I'll learn from it...and go back and do it perfectly! I have to send in the fail results and re-test at the earliest date they have. In the mean time, my "trial period" is up with working as Max's CNA. I have to be certified by the state to continue on. So I will be taking a break from that until I'm fully certified. Luckily I only have to do the skills, not the written portion again.
Today, I'm up and doing all the things a mommy does...especially when that mommy has to do things a CNA would do. And that's frustrating to me. Knowing I know it...but I'll drop the CNA status for a while and just be mommy. I prefer that title any day.
I'll keep you all posted about when my next test will be!
Oh...and as for the surprise for today...the stinkiness is
on their way home...and will be staying with us for a while...
Now if that's not something to smile about...I don't know what is!
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