Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Over the River...Yada yada

The Extended Ochoa family is descending...upon our house for Christmas. We've decided that last year was such a blast, we oughta do it again. As usual during the holidays, I also have a brisk schedule at work to keep up with. So, faced with providing a large amount of food for a good-sized group of people over a several day stretch, I've decided to adhere to the Julia Child principle of using liberal amounts of butter to ensure everything comes out tasting well. In fact, my menu has a little Julia, a little Alton (Brown that is) and a lot of Pioneer Woman, my go-to people when it comes to cooking. And, hopefully, a little Lauren too. I like to stick with things I've made before at times like these, but add a few things that I've never attempted to keep it interesting.
I had my first physical exam by my primary doctor since before I got pregnant with Sofia and Dr. Akey told me I looked, "exactly the same" as before I got pregnant and that she wouldn't believe that I had birthed two kids in the past two years if I hadn't told her. I made Hugo go and have a physical with Dr. Akey as well, and he got to have his first prostate exam. Hardy har har. I got a real giggle over that one. Plus, I don't know if Hugo knows this yet, but I told EVERYONE at the hospital about it. They all shook their heads and wondered how such a nice guy (Hugo) ever got mixed up with such a messed up chick (me). Something about me though....he seems to enjoy my company.
I went out the floor to respond to a code the other night. The in-house doctor never showed, so I went ahead and had the lady intubated and transferred her to the unit. When the doctor finally showed up (he apparently did not hear the code called) he was told by Amy that Dr. Ochoa took care of it for him. I responded that I wasn't a doctor, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night. Haha. I've been waiting a long time to use that line. I finally got the perfect chance.
In terms of Christmas shopping, I'm finished. Hugo and I each have Secret Santa presents to buy for one of his family members (we did the name pull thing) and we took care of that early on. We got a little gift for each of the two kids that are coming (Sebastian and Santiago) and one for each other (we weren't going to buy for each other this year but Hugo got a Christmas bonus so we split it and used it to get each other one present). Everyone keeps asking me what I got for Sofia and Fiona. Umm, nothing. Yeah, that's right. I said nothing. Anyone gotta problem with that? One of my patients actually accused me of being a bad Christian when I told him that. He told me that if we accept the validity of Christmas as a Christian holiday, we are required to buy presents for our children so they will grow up with an understanding of God's love. Hmmmm. I'm not a theologian, but that doesn't quite jive for me. I didn't bother informing him that according to my dad, the whole Christmas thing started out as a pagan holiday. Didn't want to give the guy his second massive MI in one day. First of all, Fiona's wants are pretty easy to satisfy at this point in time. It involves a part of my anatomy being in her mouth and pretty much everything else is just an unwanted distraction anyway, so... Sofia is a little more interested in the toy thing, but I'm guessing that the few presents she is getting from others will sufficiently amuse and entertain her without me going out and buying a bunch of plastic things from China to add to the mix. Don't worry, I'm not about to move to a commune in the desert of anything.
So Christmas tidings around here are a pleasant mix of family togetherness, hospital happenings and prostate exams. Haha. My combined 18 months of torture at the hands of the medical community (AKA pregnancy) means I get to make fun of Hugo as much as I want about his prostate exam. He accepts that. I think.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Fiona (Ms. Fortune)

Fiona has had a rough past couple of weeks. Last week it was RSV. She got so sick she had to be admitted to the Big Shands pediatric floor. That was compliments of her big sis, who brought this lovely virus home from daycare. I was none too pleased and Sofia will be hanging out at home with the babysitter from now on rather than going to that petri dish known as daycare anymore.

Fiona came through the illness swimmingly though and is now back on track, gaining weight, smiling, laughing (she laughed at Hugo for the first time yesterday) and looking as cute as is humanly (or ogrely) possible. We refer to her as our little ogre, since she shares a name with Shrek's true love, Princess Fiona.

Yesterday I took her and Sofia to the park to meet up with Carol and Grant. Carol is a friend I met through the postpartum luncheon at the hospital; she had Grant the same week I had Sofia. We get together occasionally for playdates. We hadn't seen each other in a long time, so we were gabbing and catching up while Sofia and Grant whirled around happily on the merry go round. Fiona was hanging out in my arms, drooling all over herself and acting like the two and a half month old she is.

All of a sudden I heard a "Thunk!" noise and after a second, Fiona started crying as though her heart would break. I never saw it but all I can surmise is that the wind blew a pinecone off the trees and it fell on Fiona's poor wee little head. She quickly developed an angry red mark with a scrape in the middle that bled. The poor thing just can't catch a break! First the unfair advances of a nasty cold virus, then an attack by a tree. I felt terrible, but how can you plan for such things? I think she takes after her mom. I was the unlucky recipiant of many such poor circumstantial accidents as a child.

All I can hope is that things get better from here. Sofia, bless her heart, has had to deal with accidents that were a result of her parents' collective inexperience with the care and protection of babies. Luckily, we've learned many hard lessons through her infancy and are doing much better this time around. I haven't walked Fiona's head into the doorway once.