Are you ready for the latest dispatch from bed rest? I feel like I will win an award for posting about the most ridiculous topics ever before this is all said and done. Those of you with some sort of feed reader are going to be all, "Ugg, she's posting again, go read a book Kelsey."
So I'm feeling alternately complain-y and then guilty about feeling complain-y because certainly I would/will endure much more than this to keep Littlest safe and in place for as long as possible. And yet. . .
Like this morning, I'm totally annoyed by the fact that I need to be drinking a lot (fluids = good for my fluid level, not rocket science) but it is kind of a pain to get out of this lovely bed to go to the bathroom. I know that sounds absurd, but when you've been sitting for this long it seems like a lot of work! Not to mention the fact that every time I get up and down there are pillows and blankets and, um, protective items that need to be rearranged. And if I am hooked up to the IV at the time, then I have to unplug the pump and drag that with me. Do you know what is not possible? Pulling the IV pump into the bathroom and holding the back of the hospital gown closed.
Last night the nurse came in to give me a 2 a.m. dose of IV antibiotics (thankfully NOT the liquid fire kind) and decided the IV in my hand was looking not so great and needed to be replaced/moved. It had only been in since Monday afternoon but had been fairly uncomfortable the whole time, so I was happy to exchange another "stick" for the removal of that particular IV. Unfortunately my veins were not cooperating. One hour, two nurses, and four unsuccessful sticks later there was still no usable IV. They had to call the Care Flight team in here to get one started. Apparently that crew can start IVs under the most dire of circumstances and the state of my veins was a dire circumstance. Mr. Care Flight (sorry, I didn't catch his name at 4 a.m.) got an IV going right away. The only bad part is that it is right in the crook of my right arm. While it is not painful, it is supremely annoying. (See, I'm complain-y.) It is most comfortable if I don't bend my arm at all. Why don't you sit down and try just not bending your arm for a while. . . You'll be amazed at how much your arm prefers to be bent.
Oh don't you want to listen while I whine a little more?!
Harper seems to be doing okay with my readmission here. Of course Sunday night she had climbed on the bed at home and told me she loved me and she was so happy I was home. . . But she called me during dinner Monday evening to tell me, "We're all fine at my house." And yesterday she came to visit with my mom after school.
She's not really intimidated by this environment anymore, which is great, but she was driving us crazy trying to touch everything in the room. I was being monitored when they came so there were cables and the sound of the baby's heartbeat to fascinate her, as well as the whole IV set-up. I was afraid she was going to pull it right out of my hand. It is so difficult for three-year-olds to look without touching.
When it was time to go Harper hid under the table in the room and whined that she didn't want to leave. Of course this made things difficult for my mother and it was not fun to watch. But I must say that I'll take the, "I don't want to leave," Harper over the version that stands by the door and says, "Let's go!"
I've got a post about the food here brewing, and it isn't complain-y. If that doesn't keep you coming back for more, I don't know what will.