Gasp!

I've had a cold for the last few days, thanks no doubt to Sadie's daily trips to the germ swap — I mean, her daycare. Yesterday I started coughing and running a low fever, so this morning I dropped in on the baby doctor.

Now here I am, seven hours later, in the isolation cell of the Krankenhaus with a case of RSV. Do not pass Go, do not collect your clean pajamas. It's not too severe, as such things go, but they wanted to hook me up to more wires than we had at home. (And if you know Mom and Dad, that's saying something.) I don't like the oxygen tubes much, but I'll tolerate them for the tape hearts.

On the plus side, I get Mom all to myself until they send us home.

Supernumerary

I got called down to the doctor's office this morning, where they stabbed me in the heel, played sounds in my ears, and took a sonogram of my hips and abdomen.

Everything looks good. The doctor thinks I have a double kidney on the left side, like about 2% of people. Usually nobody knows about it until they're old and getting an ultrasound for some other kidney problem. But here in Germany they do the exam on all newborns, so they turn up this kind of thing more regularly. The doctor isn't worried, because my bladder and ureters all look normal, but we'll have it checked out again at my next doctor visit.

A stitch in time

Here's a new wrinkle on an old wrinkle. Dad found some loose threads sticking out of where my tail used to be. When he snipped them and pulled them out, the scar that used to be kind of bumpy smoothed right out. Wish he could do the same for the big one on my back.

Where there's a pill, there's a way

Back in California, my Prilosec came in an unstable mix with baking soda and water that needs to be kept cool, but not frozen. This is a poor solution for travel. Here, Prilosec comes only in pills, which I can't swallow. Fortunately, German houses are equipped with handy pill crushers. And medicine mixed into yogurt tastes like... yogurt! I don't know what this says about yogurt.

Cleared for flight

Grandma rode with us on a long trip to Oakland to review my MRI with the baby neurologist.

The P.A. reports that everything's healing nicely. Dad got her to take out some of the lumpier knots in the dissolving sutures where my tail was removed, and since he was so nice I didn't even pee all over him while she did it.

My surgeon Dr. Pang came in to say hello and get his photo taken with me. He must have heard about my blog and wanted his chance at fame.

Mandatory Repeat Investigation

I'm back for a followup MRI, to make sure everything's healing up properly. It's a lot easier to get an IV into a 16-lb baby than an 8-lb one, but this time I'm ready. I'll have that thing out before you can say… arm-board? Curses!

Out of stitches

Dad and Mom make me laugh with funny noises and peek-a-boo, but I'm glad they're not keeping me in stitches. I got those removed today. Somebody find my duckie: I'm itching for a bath.

I habb a code

Five weeks with Rebecca and Penelope taking turns being sick at home, and I'm fine. Two hours visiting daycare, and now I have a cold. And I got off easy: During my absence, the MSDF had a bout of bronchitis and a stomach flu that emptied entire rooms. Maybe I don't need to learn how to shave after all.

9-month checkup

The 9-month checkup is the best one ever. No shots! After looking me over briefly, Dr. Griffin told Mom and Dad that I'm perfect and they need to feed me lots more big-people food. Well, duh. I told them that, but did they believe me? Just another example of credential inflation in our society when it takes a MD to say what a baby knows.

Plus, at this "9-month" checkup I'm 5 days shy of 10 months. Those doctors aren't as clever as they think they are.

I weighed 15 lb, 11.5 oz. Not bad for not having eaten in a week.

Hey it's good to be back home again

It's nice that my house missed me while I was gone. After four days in the hospital, it's back to the peace and quiet of home. No PA announcements, no wires, no beeping EKGs, no 4AM temperature-takings, no doting nurses, no Nubain IV drips, no television... can I go back to the hospital?

But wait: the diapers here are my size. Oh, the dilemma!

Ups and Downs

The doc says I can go home today if I can drink enough to stay hydrated, and keep it all down. No problem! Hand me that formula bottle, and I'll... urgh....

How 'bout a juice bottle instead?

Morning Glory

I got up early because I had two important things on my agenda. First, the nurse took out my catheter. I don't want to make my diaper wet, because I don't like being jostled when they change it. But I'm not about to ask the nurse to put the catheter back in.

Second, I got to cuddle in Mom's arms! I napped there while she sat, bleary-eyed, carefully keeping all the tubes and wires out of my way. But I took advantage of her sleepiness and pulled that annoying IV out of my foot when she put me down. No luck, though: the nurse noticed and hooked me up by the backup IV in my hand. Foiled again!

As good as it gets

They thought I wasn't paying attention when Dr. Peng came to check on me this morning, but I heard every word. "This is as good as it gets," he said. What?! OK, I'm allowed to rest on my front now, and the improved thumb access is certainly appreciated. But I can't possibly achieve world domination until they give me back my clothes.

I am Sadius of Borg

The surgery was a complete success. Now there's something stuck to my back, and it hurts when I move. I have pressure and tape-allergy marks on my face and electrodes all over my torso. There are IVs or sensors on both feet and one hand. I'm so swollen with IV saline that my ID anklet is digging into my leg, my eyelids are too puffy for me to open my eyes, and my "innie" has become an "outie". I haven't eaten in 19 hours. I have a catheter going places I don't want to think about. But what really irks me is, my diaper's too small!

It'll all be worth it, though. Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.

Operation "Operation" is Go

I'm done teething for the moment, so the surgeons decided this is a good time to finally have me visit for a few days. I have to be in Oakland, an hour away, at 7:00 tomorrow morning. I'm glad I get to sleep most of the day after that.

Never Means Never

My procedure has been delayed for two more weeks. I guess the hospital didn't want to deal with my teething fussiness either.

Someday Never Comes

My surgery, which was scheduled for tomorrow, and then for last week, and then for tomorrow, is now scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Fine by me, as long as it's never "today".

Mom and Dad are disappointed. I think they were looking forward to the post-surgical sedation to take care of my teething pains.

Ultrasonic Cleaning

A friendly technician waved a magic wand around my back and tummy this afternoon. I think she was giving my kidneys a good cleaning. I made sure to wipe lots of goop on Mom while she was holding me. She said it made her feel nostalgic.

I Hope I Pass

At the neurosurgeon's office today, Mom, Dad, and the anesthesiologist decided my lingering cough doesn't earn me a stay of my spinal rearrangement. We're precariously balanced between waiting until I'm 110% healthy and not waiting until I catch something else. Sigh, I'll have to learn to fake better.

Before they cut me open and let my blood leak out, they want to test what's in me now. I can't say I enjoyed the blood draw much. I didn't even get a Dora the Explorer bandage. I snuck a look at Mom's arm afterward, though, and I'm pretty sure my veins are bigger than hers.

Surprisingly, although I pee way more often than I bleed, collecting a urine sample is turning out to be much harder. I'll skip the details and just say that we'll try again tomorrow.

Really pissed

The good news is, the pediatric urologist says all my parts are working normally, unaffected by my spinal lipoma.

The bad news is, in order to find this out, he put catheters in places best left undescribed and, let's just say, turned the ebb tide. Repeatedly, over my vigorous protests. While Dad cheerily chatted with him about mutual college friends. I am so going to remember this when I'm the grownup and Dad's having prostate trouble.