Two Weeks?! Seriously?

My Lawd! How on earth did I ever find the time to post to this blog more than once a day let alone once a week? Time is flying.

I must warn you. I was around "medical people" today. I am slightly irritated and this post may come out with a bit of a rant. I should disclaim that I am grateful for some people that can withstand working in that environment and not adhere to it, as well as for the lifesaving efforts that have given me the opportunity to even be a mom to this sweet baby. There is a distinct line where my gratefulness stops. Pretty much where the unnecessary, petty and ego driven actions begin. My bitterness may be present just a tad here, but I do understand and appreciate that not all "medical people" are cows that follow the herd. Disclaimer off-start rant. lol

Well, today was-in short-interesting. Today we packed up our little Monkey Man and headed back to that hospital whicheth spawns evil doctors from hell. Okay okay they aren't totally Satan spawn. They just have crappy bedside manners that I think spout from extremely polished egos.

But today was about a "follow up developmental assessment" for our little man. Whatever all that means, I just knew it was a huge 2 hour appt. and every single agency/doctor we see asks and wants the big report from this day. So, it must be important. And that it takes place in the very hospital Oliver was in the NICU in. No pressure or nothing right? Skip the coffee for me this morning, I'm already shot thru the roof and clung to the chimney. Visions of making me "wait out here" as my baby is toted off begin to spring through my brain. My defenses go up, waiting for impact. I'm going to jump the first person who says hi to me.

Just the drive alone silenced me. Same streets, same crazy traffic, same same same...Luckily Will was behind the wheel. As we made our way downtown and through those familiar streets I recalled laying in the back of my midwife's car as she drove me there for the first time, raw, and sore, and tired, and scared...staring up out the windows at the huge old beautiful trees, with huge green leaves, in full bloom and full of promise and hope, reaching up to a sunny sky. Silent yet Speaking...Today they were different. They looked tired and withered, the leaves were gone and the branches were stripped to their bareness to withstand the elemental test of winter. Yet they were still there, tall and strong, and withstanding they were. Still silent, but still speaking. I can relate to that. Tired and withered, but still on two feet. (or one trunk...its all relative) We parked and walked inside. Oliver was calm as long as he had me to hang on to. I felt a weird twinge of guilt for even bringing him back there.

I saw a couple familiar faces. I was partially relieved and yet partially on edge-mostly because the faces I saw had different impacts on me. Funny how the sweet physical therapist whom I adored remembered me, (in fact she saw Ollies chart this morning on the list and was excited)and the *ahem* other familiar face couldn't recall me or Oliver at all. Somehow I had managed to think I could go to the same hospital for a follow up assessment and yet avoid the same staff. I didn't think I would see NICU staff there at all. I mean, neonatal people seeing a 7 month old? Nah.

But, as I had been telling myself since last night, I am in charge now. He is not "admitted" here. He is mine, and I can walk away if I want to with him in tow. It was mostly cordial. There were a few times when I had to say "you can get that next time." (ie: prying Ollies eyes open while he's asleep on my chest to check pupil dilation which has already been checked and we know his eye sight is fine -yet because it's not on their chart they can't validate that *sigh*) I didn't freak out, I didn't jump anyone. One lady was a bit snippy. She wanted to just direct the session and for Ollie and us to follow along her pre planned lecture/directions. We kinda couldn't. For one, he's 7 months old, and for two I don't do her job and couldn't position or grasp as fast as she was putting out what she wanted me to do with him so she could assess it. And she got irritated by our questions. It gave me the giggles. Will was a bit irritated for a while, as he gets very serious around all these people. I guess he still gives them much more value than I do. We went to the next room for the next assessment and left the speed talker in the dust.

We came to find out after much questioning, exactly the degrees of the people assessing Oliver. A nurse, a occupational/physical therapist, a nurse practitioner...and a social worker was present. And why they are doing these assessments? So they can see potential or actual problems and give appropriate referrals. So I asked the question...an RN can give referrals? (I know darn well referrals must come from the gods with M.D. behind their names) She said oh no, there is a doctor that oversees all the cases. (I looked around) Well, where is he? Who is he? When will he be here? Oh, they don't come down. (insert lump in throat here). They are...the neonatologists from ICU, whoever is on call looks over the chart and decides on referrals. (Oh yippy skippy, I HOPE Dr. Doomsday looks at ours!!!) I damn near walked out at this point. So, they don't even look at the kid, brief over the chart and make appropriate referrals based on heresay? Yet they don't trust heresay from their own pediatricians that Olivers eyes are fine? Okay okay, attempt to turn off the brain here.

The only reason, and I do mean only reason I stayed is so I can say that I did my part, and haven't been negligent. I mean honestly, really and truly this was totally pointless. Whatever they did find could also be found by either his neurologist, pediatrician or one of the two agencies that does home visits and assesses his development. I always get the same feeling now around medical institutions. It's like the wizard of oz where the smoke screen is gone and you see some nerdy little bald guy running the show. It's like a pageant for who holds the most importance. I wonder if they stand around and argue that in the break rooms. There is an air of old stiffness steeped in dusty tradition when I think the tradition isn't near as important as the principles. Which is my total hang up. That is somehow easily forgotten, and it seems to be further forgotten the higher up the education ladder the staff has climbed. They somehow have been led to believe they are historically important and should never be questioned or doubted. People who question or doubt can make problems or point out problems in a problematic system. Ruh Roh, I am one of "those"...I just see it so easily now, and it is my number one irk of the whole situation. And it still has me processing how to avoid it in my future career.

All in all I think things went... well. They said they send out a final report with all the details and comparisons against other babies, but just from the overview it looked well. Course they've said that to my face before and sent me a report that was total...well yeah. I'm trying hard to let the past go and stay in the now.

Ollie does have some slight weakness still on his left side and in his trunk. It's nothing major that even warrants physical therapy visits, but there was definitely a few things we have to work on at home. His Achilles tendons are a little tight which could cause him to be a "toe walker" and we have to flex them alot to keep them loose and also avoid things like walkers/jumpers, which we don't spend alot of time in anyway. He does still do some fisting when he is on his back, although it could be the staff that he was sick of when he demonstrated that. He definitely favors his right/stronger side, and does a little more fisting on the left than the right. But, it's slight. His weak trunk (mid section/tummy area) is inhibiting him from sitting fully on his own, which we kinda got a heads up on that from his home health nurse and already in a week he has made vast strides. Also due to the weak trunk he has trouble fully supporting himself on hands and knees. He has gotten in the habit of laying on his belly, reaching forward and with both arms kinda dragging himself around. Good biceps. Although that sounds extreme, he does flex and attempt to use his legs somehow to help, it's almost like he doesn't quite get it and needs a tutorial. And thus I have become. We went over and over positioning and transitioning...and already 8 hours after his appointment, Oliver is flexing and trying more to use his legs on his own.

It felt good to leave. My baby in My arms. Weak and fisty or not, he's ours.

I can honestly say from my heart, I'm not worried at all. This little boy never ceases to amaze me. We lay down in bed to take a nap and he opens his little hand and slowly, with so much control puts it on my cheek and nuzzles his nose into my nose. His eyes stare and lock with mine and as his blinks become slower and slower I feel his paci -suck suck suck- up against my lips. His heart speaks to mine, and although he may be just a tad "behind" their cookie cutter version of a baby-he's just fine-he knows he is, I know he is...