Skidoosh.
For those who don't know... the past two weekends we have been without a nurse. Now, in the scheme of things that's not so bad. It really isn't. I mean, I was up with him day AND night for the first two months after we brought him home. I'll take three nights a week... if I have to. And the company called today to say that they finally found a nurse to fill in on the weekends. This weekend, at least. Not Christmas Eve but tonight and Sunday night. And I need to do orientation with the nurse they send tonight so I'll still be sleeping downstairs BUT we have a nurse. I repeat, we have a nurse.
Back to what I was saying before: Having to stay up on the weekends with the boy isn't that bad. Or.... it could be worse, let's say that. I'm keeping my head up and trying to not have a pity party. But this does lead me to all the wonderful little things I forgot I would be dealing with through the night.
Cats. On the couch. On top of me.
Sleeping on the couch and not being able to turn to my side and put my knees up.
Again, sleeping on the couch and how my back really doesn't like it.
Setting my alarm to feed him, warming up his bottle and then falling asleep before it's ready only to wake up 45 minutes later realizing the bottle is still in the bottle warmer.
*beepbeepbeep beepbeep* and the constant repositioning
Trying to find the trach to get the suction catheter down without turning on every light and waking Rambo up.
Him coughing around 2am- constantly for an hour. (This is a newer habit he started after having that wretched doctors appointment in November. Yeah, remember that one? He still isn't straight from it.)
Getting only around 20 minutes of sleep at a time.
Rambo waking up at 6am.
All that being said, three nights out of a week is do-able. Tiring, sure. Frustrating, yes, But do-able. And hopefully I'll only have to do it once this weekend (so they say).
Also, he is getting a molar. So not exciting. The poor boy is miserable.
I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas! Enjoy your weekend. And in the words of tiny Tim (who I'm honestly not a big fan of - don't hate me.) God bless us. Everyone. Or in the words of Ellen Griswald, 'It's Christmas and we're all in misery.' Hopefully that is not the case.
Back to what I was saying before: Having to stay up on the weekends with the boy isn't that bad. Or.... it could be worse, let's say that. I'm keeping my head up and trying to not have a pity party. But this does lead me to all the wonderful little things I forgot I would be dealing with through the night.
Cats. On the couch. On top of me.
Sleeping on the couch and not being able to turn to my side and put my knees up.
Again, sleeping on the couch and how my back really doesn't like it.
Setting my alarm to feed him, warming up his bottle and then falling asleep before it's ready only to wake up 45 minutes later realizing the bottle is still in the bottle warmer.
*beepbeepbeep beepbeep* and the constant repositioning
Trying to find the trach to get the suction catheter down without turning on every light and waking Rambo up.
Him coughing around 2am- constantly for an hour. (This is a newer habit he started after having that wretched doctors appointment in November. Yeah, remember that one? He still isn't straight from it.)
Getting only around 20 minutes of sleep at a time.
Rambo waking up at 6am.
All that being said, three nights out of a week is do-able. Tiring, sure. Frustrating, yes, But do-able. And hopefully I'll only have to do it once this weekend (so they say).
Also, he is getting a molar. So not exciting. The poor boy is miserable.
I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas! Enjoy your weekend. And in the words of tiny Tim (who I'm honestly not a big fan of - don't hate me.) God bless us. Everyone. Or in the words of Ellen Griswald, 'It's Christmas and we're all in misery.' Hopefully that is not the case.
Merry Christmas to the entire Taylor household - cats and all. Love, Aunt Peggy
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