Kintropy In Action

Posted by parents at 10:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

"All done.  All done!  All done!"

I could hear Hannah shouting her status from the nearby bathroom.  It was a little after midnight, and she was signaling that potty time was over.

Janette was "on duty" until 2am, so as she helped Hannah out, and as I slipped back to sleep, I wondered at Hannah's newly found voice.  Hannah used to speak with the help of a speaking valve on her trach, but the speaking valve often ended up in her mouth as something to chew on (which meant she couldn't have it for awhile).

Now the option to talk is always available, and this is a great thing.  The few words she uses often are becoming clearer, like "All done!"  I'm eager to see what new words develop.  At times, Hannah is quietly processing the world around her (especially through her new glasses - pictures soon!); at others, she's quite the chatterbox.

Of course, shouting "All done!" at midnight while Dad is trying to sleep?  We'll work on timing later.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 01:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Today, Robert, the kids, and I decided to go on an outing. Robert needed to do an exchange at our new Best Buy store. Just getting out sounded fun to me.

So we went to do our errand; then go to Red Robin for lunch. Red Robin was busy today due to the holiday. Seven teenage girls, obviously together, were taking up two booths worth in the waiting room. Their hair was all perfect. Their clothes matched their cell phones. Their cell phones weren't stashed away in a purse or pocket; they were clutched like Gollum's Precious from the Hobbit.

Gabriel paced the lobby. He tried to climb the five-foot replica of the Statue of Liberty. He was sure the plaque she held was a book that could be opened: an idea he got from Schoolhouse Rock. He asked me if I could open it.

Meanwhile, Hannah was protesting. She was hungry. So Robert whipped out Hannah's feeding tube and syringe. I watched the teenagers' eyes widen, and several shielded their eyes. This amused me. I bent down and said to Robert, "You won't believe the responses those girls are giving right now."

He chuckled. He joked we should ask them if they had a BIC pen to reinsert a trach for Hannah. He soon came up with other crisises, a little more typical to our life, but that would probably shock them just the same.

Personally, I would love to think that Hannah, as she gets older, will go up to a person like that  and say, "Oh, you still eat with your mouth? How barbaric!"

--Mom

Posted by parents at 04:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

At 2 am, Hannah was lying tummy-down in her bed.  Post trach removal, this position helps keep her tongue in a non-occluding position while she sleeps.  Her O2 saturations were good; her heartrate, a little high, but tolerable.  I could hear some catch in her breaths, but she was certainly sleeping safely.  However, The Pillow was missing.

"Can you help me position her?" I asked Janette.  "She needs The Pillow."

Janette retrieved The Pillow from the floor.  To some, it looks like an everyday pillow wrapped in a blue with yellow stars pillowcase.  To me, it is The Pillow That Helps The Princess Sleep, The Pillow That Prevents Poor Sleep Crankiness, The Pillow That Helps Her Sleep Beyond 3 a.m.  It is The Pillow.

"She was sleeping fine," Janette added as we repositioned Hannah, tucking the pillow under her stomach, letting her head pop up over the pillow onto the wedge-graded bed.

Fine?  "She needs her Pillow," I said.

"I think she was doing okay on her own.  She napped fine today without any oxygen even."

"She... needs... her... Pillow."

I turned on the humidifier and adjusted Hannah's position.  Then readjusted Hannah's position.  Then readjusted her again.  Janette stepped back, not wanting to be the fall-person if all the repositioning woke Hannah.  In a few minutes, Janette and I met in the office to complete the Hannah handoff, but The Pillow hung between us:  a non-allergenic puff of soft, downy conflict.

Janette filled me in on both kids' bedtimes, medicines given, food status.  I listened, but my mind was still on The Pillow.

You see, there are two schools of thought in the house currently:  we'll call them the Declaration of Independence and The Pillow Princess schools.  The Delcaration of Independence is the only do-as-much-as-necessary school.  Allow Hannah to figure out as much on her own as possible about sleep positions.  Only intevene if her body is not tolerating it well and only enough to help her chart her own course again. 

The Pillow Princess school says independence is good and will be learned over time, but comfort is Queen.  Help Hannah get into a comfortable position:  whatever that takes.  If she is breathing well (no occlusion sound), she will rest well.  This will help her heal faster and help her learn the right sleeping position(s) gradually.

In truth, both overlap, but tonight they seemed diametrically opposed.  Janette was firmly on the side of the Delcaration of Independence; I, the Pillow Princess.

During our update, I tried to explain my position again.  "She sounded occluded.  The Pillow makes her more comfortable, and she sleeps better."

"Some of that sound is okay.  It's the same sound you make when you sleep."

Oh-kay, this was the Conversation to Nowhere Good at 2 a.m..  Janette and I agreed to disagree, we kissed, and she headed to bed.

I returned to Hannah's room and repositioned her over The Pillow again.  Hannah smiled in her sleep (which I happily accepted as agreeement with my viewpoint).  She settled into a nice, clean breathing rhythm, and I thanked The Pillow. 

The Pillow is good.  The Pillow is All Powerful.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 03:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

We sat in the mall courtyard.  Hannah sprawled side-saddle in her chair, leaning comfortably, facing the fountain, calm in the receeding warmth of the afternoon.  Gabriel jumped across nearby rock features.  Both were decked out in fancy clothes for the recently-completed family pictures.

Gabriel came over to me, looking overly serious in his dress shirt and silvery vest.  "Dad, I'm going to practice my lines."

"Okay."

Gabriel walked away from me.  His back still to me, he gesticulated as he spoke aloud.  He was the rain forest.  The rain forest was he.  The rain forest needed help.  Gabriel needed help.  Please save the rain forest.

He practiced his well-memorized lines for a few minutes, then returned to skipping from rock to rock.  Hannah squirmed in her chair a bit.  The fountain was now competing with Hannah's need to move or to go potty (similar signs, though Hannah has shown great control in using the potty over the last few days).

My ever-present triple latte in hand, we all headed back to the photo studio to pick up our photos.  I'm sure some of those pictures, given that they gave us the CD, will appear here shortly ;-).

 -- Dad

Corrected "learning" to "leaning" this afternoon.... - Dad 

Posted by Dad at 08:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I took Hannah's post-hospital stay prescription to our local pharmacy. Before I left it with the pharmacist, I had them make sure they carried the medication and that they had the item in stock. That all checked out, so I asked for the prescription to be ready at noon the following day. (Before I went, Robert had checked on our insurance coverage.)

The next day I went to pick it up at 1:00 pm. The gentleman who was new to this pharmacy looked at me and said, "You can't refill this till June 22."

I gave him a puzzled look. Gabriel started pacing. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"You insurance won't refill this till next month."

"What do you mean refill.  I just dropped this prescription off yesterday?"

He shrugged.

"This is not a refill. My daughter just got out of the hospital yesterday. I just dropped off the prescription.  It hasn't been filled anywhere else."

After a lot of hemming and haww-ing, I got them to agree to call the insurance company, and since I had other errands to do, I said I would contact them again at 3:00 PM.

At 3:00, nothing had changed. This is the medicine to help with her stomach recovery by the way. So I went home and started calling the insurance company. Four phone calls later, I find out it has been approved, but the pharmacy just kept putting the request through which confused the insurance computer with it's multiple requests.

There went another couple hours of my life I'll never get back.

-Mom

--Mom

Posted by Dad at 09:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The other night, Gabriel came into our room complaining of a bad dream. It was my first night back from the hospital, so I wasn't going to share my bed with a kicking six year old.

"Let's go cuddle on the couch." I said softly.

He looked at me and said, "OK"

So we went to the couch in the family room and settled down. He had to make several trips to his room to bring blankets. Then he proceeded to turtle under the blanket and poke me with his knees and elbows.

I realised there would be no wind-down this way. So I broke the cardinal parent bedtime rule which is don't make sleep interruption fun. I grabbed a chapter book to read the next chapter. It was an Avatar book. Which is a story about a world with people called "benders" who can supernaturally control elements such as air, fire, earth and water.

Gabriel listened as he kicked the shelf behind the couch where he lost the TV remote and had to go rescue it.

I finished the chapter and started discussing benders with him. We made some of are own up that got us both laughing.

Caffeine Bender: a person who would create waves of coffee to fight off sleep benders.

Video Game Benders: A person who could combine and win video games.

Word Benders: a person who could make wonderful stories and songs.

Baa Baa Benders: A person who can control sheep (real useful in a battle)

Snot bender: A person who could slime their enemies with balls of snot.

It digressed from there. I finally sent him to bed sure that the nightmare thoughts had been bended away. I guess I was a Nightmare Bender.

-Mom

Posted by Dad at 09:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I find common social graces amusing some times. While rushing Hannah to the hospital this Monday, I called the nursing agency.

"Hello. Thank you for calling Childrens Nursing company. This is B. How may I help you?"

"Ahh, Hi B, this is Janette, Hannah's mother."

"Oh, hi, how are you doing?"

This is the funny part.

"I'm fine." I always pausing as my internal dialog laughs at me. No, I'm not fine, I'm rushing Hannah to the hospital again. After the pause, I proceed. "I'm calling to let you know we have detected blood in Hannah's stomach and are taking her to the emergency room. I'm thinking will be spending the night, but I'm not sure. Could you let S. know so she can inform G. and let whoever is on call know that I will be calling when I know more."

As our van clicks over the freeway bumps, I hear the pause on the other end. I wonder what is going through B's mind. She is the new director and new to the medically fragile world. I had just said I was fine. And then I proceeded to tell her how un-fine things were at the moment.

But my technical mind (from being raised by an engineer) is in the driver's seat of my mouth, and it knows I'm fine, Hannah, on the other hand: well, that is a whole other bucket of thoughts.

--Mom

Posted by Dad at 08:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

For those following the Hospital Adventures of Hannah, we are now at home.  Hannah was release yesterday afternoon (and then proceeded to take a two hour nap at the hosptial - I thought she wanted to go home?).  We believe we've addressed the problem with her tummy, so she is at home on the mend, and she seems to be doing well this morning.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 06:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Heading in to trade off with Janette at the hospital.  Hannah seems to be doing better with some acid blockers in her stomach, so we may have that better under control.  Will write more later once we have additional updates (and once Janette gets some sleep maybe).

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 07:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Today was my first day back to work after a week's vacation.  Granted, it was intended to be a take-care-of-the-kids medical vacation, but I still got a week off, and today was the jump back into work day.

After starting to catch up on email and attending a meeting, I came home for lunch.  I only work about five minutes from our house:  a nice plus.  I get to eat lunch with Janette and the kids.  While I was getting my lunch ready, Janette pulled Hannah's g-tube residuals.  We do this to make sure Hannah is not retaining the last feed prior to starting the next.  The syringe filled up with a near-black liquid:  20 or more ccs of it.

"Robert, remember how I said I didn't need you to stay home today?"

"Yeah..."

"Look."

Janette showed me the g-tube.  Given that Hannah is on an antibiotic, ibruprofin, tylenol, etc., we weren't sure if there was blood in there.  We were only sure we hadn't seen anything quite like this yet.  Hannah was acting normal, but the fluid was beyond odd.

Well, we made it to the doctor's office with a bottle of near-black fluid for testing.  After a check with Hannah's pediatrican and some testing of the fluid (which was positive for blood), we headed to our next destination:  the local children's hospital.

So Hannah and Janette are doing an overnight tonight at the hospital.  So far, blood tests are normal.  The doctors are trying to reduce any acidity in her stomach and work through the symptoms.  Gabriel and I are spending the night here at home.

Sigh.  So I am hoping that my last several posts don't read like complaints.  They're not intended to be that.  To be honest, this is kind of what life with my family is like:  ups-and-downs (and many of them medically related).  Though next time, maybe we can hold the lunch surprise.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 08:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

At 5am this morning, someone knocked softly at our bedroom door.

I quickly completed a sleepers' inventory.  Janette:  already in-bed.  Gabriel, our usual suspect, had knocked, entered, and crawled into our bed a few hours earlier.  Odds were Hannah hadn't mastered walking overnight.

As Gabriel overhead me once, "Oh, crack!"

"Guys," Hannah's nurse J said, "Hannah's spiked a temp big time.  I put in a call to Dr. C.  Sorry to wake you, but wanted to let you know."

I rolled out of bed first; Janette wasn't far behind me.  Pants, t-shirt, pockets, car keys.  Car keys.  Where are my car keys?

"Janette, are the hospital bags still packed?" I asked, searching my cluttered dresser for the missing car keys.

"Pretty much - still the same as last week."

"Ok."

Janette wandered down the hall to Hannah's room as I obsessed over my missing car keys for a few more minutes.   By the time I joined her and J in Hannah's room, the doctor had already given his instructions:  continue with tylenol & ibruprofin and if things didn't improve in a few hours, start an antibiotic.  If things worsened, I'm sure the instruction was to come in.

We happened to have an unmixed antibiotic in the house from an early pharmacy run when they actually dispensed more than we needed.  We started that up, under the doctor's order, pretty soon after.  I headed back to bed while J and Janette kept watch.

Janette woke me around 8am.  Hannah was up and alert, and her heartrate had dropped down to a more reasonable level.  Her satsurations were good.  Janette, though, was tired.

We flipped roles.  Janette headed back to bed, and I took over for Hannah.  After some albuterol, extra fever meds, and saline treatments, Hannah is back close to her baseline without a discernable fever.  We've watched OyBayby 2, They Might Be Giants 1-2-3 (twice), and we're now on to Laurie Berkner.  Hannah's fading toward sleepiness, so I'll be switching modes here in a few minutes.  'Til later.

-- Dad 

P.S.  Adding text at 4:15.  Hannah waited until 3 to nap, but napped well.  Screaming at the moment (probably the antibiotic on her stomach), but things overall seem to be going better than this morning.  Onwards & upwards. 

Posted by Dad at 03:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Just a quick thank you to everyone who has written in with best wishes, both on the website and via email.  We appreciate all your support (and Hannah is planning a future trip to France, I think, to visit Abigail.).  It's amazing to have so many people looking out for Hannah:  literally all over the world.  We feel well supported, so thank you.

Hannah had a good day today:  very playful and very her-usual-self (except when we went to the farmers' market this morning:  too bright and too warm, even at nine a.m.).  Tonight, she's working as she sleeps, but we have one of Hannah's most experienced nurses (one from our original home-at-six-months team), and she is looking out for her.

Gabriel is off in his room, lulled to sleep by They Might Be Giants 1, 2, 3 songs (his favorite at the moment is "7").  I went in earlier to see how he was doing.  We was bent over his mp3 player, fast forwarding to a song.

"This is the one I wanted to listen to."

I listened to the intro with him.  Synths climbing the scale.  "Ah, Planet Earth," I acknowledged, nodding sagely.  "This is one of Daddy's favorites."

I thought this would create some Duran Duran bonding moment between father and son.  I did a little faux dance thinking Gabriel, ever on the physical side, would join in.

"Uh, Dad, you can go now."

"What?"

He was literally pushing me to the door.  "I need some privacy, Dad.  You know, I need to get some sleep."

"Ok, Gabriel," I said, exiting his room.  Hannah's compressors hummed twenty feet away in the next room.  No beeps - good sign.

Maybe it was the dancing?

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 10:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Lost track of which night this is.  Daytimes for Hannah are still pretty good.  Nights are awful.  One of our most experienced nurses (and one of Hannah's favorites) believes Hannah will get the hang of night breathing.  I confess I have my doubts at the moment.

I've just finished working with Hannah for three hours tonight.  Maybe it's my twenty-plus year bout with severe asthma when younger, but watching Hannah struggle to figure out how to breathe is stressing me out.  I find it difficult to sit there, help her adjust only when needed, and give her some room to figure things out.  It is not in my nature to see either of our children experiencing some distress.

Don't get me wrong.  Hannah is safe.  Her O2 saturations are good.  Her heart rate is tolerable.  But the quality of her sleep is really poor.  She was so tired today.  I could just see it around her eyes.  It was quite a struggle tonight to, with Janette's considerable help, console her about the soreness around the trach site, gas pain, and the whole way-too-tired-from-a-difficult-night predisposition.

The one plus I found today was that my Hannah-as-a-baby memory is still intact.  When she was born through three months, we didn't have the trach, but we had all the underlying issues (and more - the ones that have been since corrected surgically).  In those days, Janette and I were spending every waking moment finding good sleep and eat-without-throwing-up positions.  This morning, I saw that Hannah woke unrefreshed.  I popped her up on my shoulder, sat in a chair, and rocked and sang to her.  She quickly fell asleep, and she slept well in that position.

So tonight we're trying to emulate some of that position to see if she will rest better.  After some working into it, she has found a pretty good breathing pattern.  We've got her propped under one arm with a pillow, and we have some blow-by oxygen and humidity to keep her comfortable. 

So far, she is more sleeping better now than I've seen her the last several nights.  Keeping my fingers crossed that we're gradually turning that corner on night sleeping and night breathing.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 09:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Hannah found a good position, and she is sleeping relatively well now.  We did videos until about 5:15 am, had a nice hug, and then back to bed.  She crashed pretty quickly, squirmed until she found a good spot to settle into, and then fell back asleep.

We'll be on pretty vigilant night duty (with the help of nursing most nights) for awhile, I think.  She can get into a good position herself, which is good news, but I think she's going to need lots of practice over the next few weeks to get really comfortable.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 05:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm sitting her watching Hannah re-learn the mechanics of breathng as she sleeps.  I pause often as she tosses and turns, tries a new position, sucks in a stuttering breath, and shifts again.

He oxygen levels are fine, but this whole relearning-to-breathe thing is difficult for her.  Okay, difficult for me, too.  When I came on shift at 2 am, she was sleeping more restfully.  She was mouth breathing, but relatively smoothly.  Now she's shifting herself awake as she tries to work out the right postion for her mouth and tongue.

... Picking back up at 3:15 am to the tune of Elmopoloosa.  Yes, Hannah has woken.  She is acting well-rested at the moment, but I imagine she'll fade sooner than usual.  I broke my no-out-of-the-bed rule (usually until 6 am or so), so she's having a play break on the floor.  Only seemed fair given all the work she's doing to sleep that she gets a wake-break on the floor with toys before heading back to bed.

Going to go grab coffee and wait for Sleep Round 2.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 02:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

We are, somewhat to our surprise, home!  Hannah came home today:  a day after the procedure.  Day time is great; night time needs some work.  At night, her tongue and/or position is getting in the way of restful sleep, and she is waking and shifting pretty often.  She settles after awhile, but still needs some (albiet less and less) extra O2 while snoozing.  We've got nursing tonight to help us sort things out, so, hopefully, we can figure this out with Hannah's help.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 09:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

 We've met the surgeon post-op, he surrended pictures of the inside of Hannah's throat to Janette (a routine we've encouraged), and Janette has headed in to comfort Hannah in the recovery room.

So far, so good.

The photos show a very clean & clear throat.  Even the vocal chords, an earlier concern, seem to be in pretty good shape.  Now we're in let's-wait-and-see-if-her-body-can-handle-it mode.

So far, so good.

The day started well, maybe a good omen, if you believe in such things.  With Hannah's nurse's help, Hannah was up and ready to go to the hospital on time.  Missed my Insomnia Coffee, but everything else went as planned.

Actually, better than planned.  No sooner had we taken Hannah to a pre-room waiting area, someone showed up with a guitar to sing to the kids.  She knew Hannah from a previous visit, and Hannah quickly gave her her undivided attention.  We sang Twinkle, Twinkle, Bah Bah Black Sheep, and the ABC song (actually, all pretty much the same song).  Soon we arrived at Old McDonald.

Hannah has a complicated relationship with this song.  Cows moo mooing and horses neigh neighing are fine by her.  But pigs oink oinking?  Ducks quack quacking?  She shut her eyes tight and dove for cover in my lap.  Same reaction at school.

The pig I rationalize as some genetic memory from my grandfather, Pappy:  an Orthodox Jew.  The duck?  Not sure what happened there.  She's never been a quack-quack fan.

Soon afterward, we were in her room.  She cuddled with Mom.  Mom and I took turns singing.  And then the nurse showed up with the special pre-surgery medication:  the one that a NICU nurse introduced to us as "baby bliss."

See Hannah sitting up.  See Hannah lying down.  See Hannah babble and cradle Dad's arm, perfectly happy and content.

Like I said, Mom's in recovery post-baby bliss:  what we might call anti-baby-bliss on Hannah's behalf.  No particular drug needed for that one.  Mom:  thanks again for taking one for the team.

 -- Dad

Posted by Dad at 06:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Tomorrow, Hannah heads to the hospital.  Her surgery is scheduled for 10:30 a.m., which means we need to be there two hours early to fill in forms, chase everyone, reminding them of her many allergies and sensitivities, supply ample DVD time to Hannah, and then breathe.  Hannah, Rock Star Princess of our local hospital, will probably take this all in stride.  She'll probably enjoy seeing nurse-friends she hasn't seen for many months.

We'll try to keep today casual.  I'm sure Hannah will want to go out, so maybe we'll take a stroll, particularly since she'll be indisposed for part of tomorrow.  It's so odd knowing in advance that she'll be in the hospital; typically, these things aren't planned.  We've got a few things ready (Hannah's DVD case, a snack & food bag for Mom and Dad, some vague plans regarding getting Gabriel to school and back), but we're thoroughly unready.

We're just hoping that the surgery "takes":  that Hannah is freed from her trach and breathing easily on her own soon.  We'll figure all the rest out as we need to, I think.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 02:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I just put Hannah's pulse oximeter on her foot. She is sleeping and her oxygen level is at 100 percent and her heart rate is down to 97. This tells me she is sleeping deeply and easily. I've been realising that I have been trusting Hannah's body to breath for a while now. This is a big step for me.

I remember going through the same thing with Gabriel as a baby. It wasn't till he was over a year old that I trusted his body to breathe for him and could let him sleep alone.

With this realisation comes a relief of pressure in my system. Parts of my body that haven't relaxed in four years are unwinding. I find myself being overwhelmed in moments of giddy sleepiness.

Of course as I been typing this the pulse oximeter keeps going off. It is having a hard time reading her heart rate. LOL

Mom

Posted by parents at 09:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Responding to a meme from our friend Barbara at TherExtras.  Also a great opportunity to restock my Sage reader.  Part of our computer difficulties over the last few days ate my Firefox bookmarks and RSS feeds.  Sigh.  Maybe a fresh start was in order (and, Steph, let me help you set up a reader feed on your site when you're down next).  To the meme:

1.  What were you doing 10 years ago? 

In May 1998, I was interviewing with an internet startup, Amazon.com.  Amazon.com was strictly a bookseller at the time, but they were quietly preparing to move into music retail, and they were looking for people with music retail experience to help them make the transition. 

Janette was very, very patient with me (as always).  I had left Virgin Entertainment Group a few months earlier after four-and-a-half years without lining up my next position (was planning on finishing my BA degree), but I sent in a resume to Amazon.com on a lark, thinking I wouldn't get a call back, and I did.  Oh yeah, we had just bought our first house in Lakewood, CA at the time, too.  Talk about timing ;-).

Amazon.com hired me in June, 1998.  I traveled up from Southern California to Bellevue, WA, leaving Janette to pack up the newly purchased house and put it on the rental market (like I said, very, very patient with me).  I caught the tail end of my cousin's wedding in Washington the weekend prior to starting with Amazon.com, getting one last chance to visit with my Uncle who attended his daughter's wedding.  He died from cancer a few months afterward.

Yes, things were never boring, even ten years ago (B.K. => Before Kids era). 

2. What are five things on your to-do list today?

"Saturday... in the park..."  Okay, now that song is stuck in my head for the day.

Being that I just started a week's vacation, I will pretend that I have no have-tos today.  I will operate under this fiction when it is convenient (i.e. when asked to do a chore), but ultimately fail despite my posturing.

Today, I plan to 1) attend the Hillsboro Saturday Farmer's Market with the kids & Bubbie & Zadie, 2) play with the kids, 3) sing to Hannah, 4) pretend to organize myself for the hospital shifts with Hannah next week, 5) reload & recharge mp3 players

3. What snacks do you enjoy?

I agree with Barbara on dark chocolate, but I'm also good with almonds, peanuts, etc..  I, unfortunately, do not have the will to keep it to one snack a day.  In fact, I earned the nickname "Snacks" in the buyer's office at the Costa Mesa, CA Virgin Megastore when I started out there.  That was probably an accurate pseudonym. 

4. What would you do if you became a billionaire?

Heck, I'd be happy with a couple million (are you listening, lottery deities?).  With abundant cash, we would be very active in funding health and disability policies studies, efforts, etc..  I'd also get my full-sized pool table.

5. What are your bad habits?

See snacks above.  I'm sure there are others, but none beyond the obvious that I want to publicly acknowledge ;-)

6. Where have you lived? 

Really lived in &/or had significant life experience in:  Orange County, CA;  Bellevue, WA; Hillsboro, OR.  Also born in xxxxx, xx, but don't want to list that in this day & age of data abuse.  We've traveled beyond that, but constrained to U.S., Vancouver, B.C., and Tijuana, Mexico.  Need to travel beyond the borders a bit (maybe after Hannah's trach tube is out & we've all recovered enough).

6b.  What is a basic tenet you live by?

Trust and believe in yourself.  Yes, that can err on the arrogant side from time to time, but I've found that belief in my own compass has been a generally good way to treat the world around me and to instill a sense of self-confidence in myself and my kids. 

7. What are the five most interesting jobs you have had?

Well, here are some of the jobs & highlights:

• High school yearbook editor:  The long-time yearbook advisor quit two weeks before the school year, so we were the Lord of the Flies yearbook edition.  With the extra room to manage and control the output, my team produced a great yearbook that sold completely out of all 3,500 copies (big school).  Also had to deal with a photographer's strike, many all-nighter deadline production sessions, and learning-to-manage people and project issues.  Cemented a good friendship, too, with E. and others that have continued over the years.
  
• Penguin's Frozen Yogurt:  My next job after yearbook.  Lasted all of three months.  Loved the customer interaction & service; the food handling, not so much.  Haven't had a food service job since.
• Virgin Megastore:  I always wanted to work for Virgin, the label, but was thrilled to join the 2nd U.S. Virgin Megastore.  This was the job that became a career as I moved from Import Buyer/Stockroom to Operations Systems Manager for the U.S/Canada chain.  Very cool place to work for much of that time.  And I did get to meet and talk with Richard Branson a couple of times, so that was a nice link back to my original goal to work for Virgin.
• Amazon.com:  I served as the Returns Manager for the company.  Well, that was my official title.  We were definitely a 120 MPH start-up, so I wore tons of hats as my team jumped into new projects, troubleshot multiple product line start ups, etc..  I had an interesting habit of offering ideas at Supply Chain Management meetings and earning new departments that way. 
  
• Current job:  My current position as a manager & data analyst has been great.  I enjoy the work.  Coming down from 7 years of 55+ hour weeks (over 60+ at Amazon) to finish my BA in English and start and raise a family has also been a good choice.
  

8. Who do you tag to continue the meme fun?

Okay, should they wish to take on the challenge, I'll invite Steph to contribute over at Keeper of the Pennies, Jacqui at Terrible Palsy, and Abigail at The Bernard Bunch to give us her young, but sage wisdom & insights.  Feel free to contribute, too, if I haven't named you specifically.

Thanks to Barbara at TherExtras for including me.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 02:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

The week without blogging was unintentional.  I think we're all just tired, waiting for next week to come.

Next week, Monday, is Hannah's surgery to remove her trach tube.  Everything and anything else is in suspended animation.  Work, meals, outings, downtime:  everything is moving past us, ruffling our hair, but we stand still.

Next week, we'll catch our breath.  

I call it a hospital vacation, but that's a misnomer:  just means I'm taking a week off because that's the most practical way to help everyone out.  Janette and I will be on hospital nursing duty (much more intensive than home with our dedicated & experienced nurses).  Mostly, we'll be finding ways to keep Hannah entertained, waiting to see if the surgery was successful.  Gabriel will get some time at home, hospital, and with extended family.  And, if all goes well, both Janette and I will get some writing downtime.

-- Dad

 P.S.  Thanks for everyone's patience with both our blogging delay and our frazzled server.  Leaving comments (or posting) for the last couple of days has been difficult.  Hope all is fixed now.

Posted by Dad at 05:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)