How to Grow (and Raise) an Alien...or Two

Still not barfing. A bit nauseated and really tired, but I'm not complaining. The other day, I did break down and cry when I noticed that the tape from my IV line has torn the skin off of my arm. My body is falling apart.

I really would like to enjoy this pregnancy at some point. I want to glow. Instead, I have bags under my eyes and my skin has a tint of green to it. Ugh.

Barfing up my lunch was just the beginning. After hurling for most of Thursday, I called my dad and requested a ride to the hospital. When I got there, I was told that they were going to give me an IV. I refused it and insisted on speaking with a doctor. Why would I be happy with an IV? Sure, give me fluids now, send me home and I'll be back tomorrow because my vein will collapse yet again. I explained to them that I didn't want a band-aid for this problem...I needed something that would work on a more long term basis. At this point, I got to talk to a resident and then the attending. This got me an overnight stay at L'Hotel Magee. They agreed with me and gave me a picc line. This is a more advanced version of an IV. Instead of the tube on the IV being a couple inches long, it's 12 - 14 inches long. It goes in my upper arm, through my shoulder and down toward my heart. So far so good. I'm just a bit nauseated and really tired, but the vomitting has ceased. They said that the picc line can last anywhere from 2 weeks to 6 months. I hope I'm closer to the 2 week end because it really grosses me out when I think about it.

I barfed up my lunch. Here we go...

So I took a little hiatus from the How to Grow an Alien story. I had another episode of continuous barfing. The trip to the emergency room turned into a stay at L'hotel Magee Women's Hospital. They wanted to keep me on an IV and also wanted to "observe" me. I must not have been very interesting to observe because I was unceremoniously discharged after only 3 days. I was a little disappointed...the hospital had room service. Seriously...you call them, order from a menu, and 45 minutes later, someone brings your food to your bedside. And the food was decent. Anyhoo, I guess they decided that as uninteresting as I was, I still needed medical attention. They signed me up for visiting nurses. I'm like an old person. When it started they were coming every day. These nurses had the fun assignment of inserting new IV lines and teaching me how to hook myself up for home IV therapy. UPS delivers IV fluids packed in ice, syringes, medications...the whole lot. I don't have to leave the house. Now, this is the problem with this wonderful arrangement. An IV, for those of you who aren't familiar, pumps fluid from a bag directly into a vein in your arm. This way, I stay hydrated and medications given this way are more effective. However, each IV location doesn't usually last for more than 3 days. This is where the nurses come in. They bring out the big needles and find another vein in my arm that hasn't already been tapped. When an IV is "blown", the fluid no longer goes directly into your vein. It finds somewhere else in your arm to go...usually right under your skin. The first 3 times this happened, I discovered it fairly quickly, as the swelling becomes obvious and my arm would get rather sore. BUT, when it happened the fourth time, I was asleep and didn't feel it right away. Imagine my surprise when I awoke to an arm twice the size that it was when I fell asleep. I pulled the IV out and called the nurse (there's no call button at home...that's just in the hospital...I actually had to pick up the phone and call the nurse). She came today and used that big needle 3 times before stating "all of your veins are blown...this isn't going to work". Therefore, for the time being, I am off of IV therapy. Hopefully, I won't start barfing again. If I do, it's a whole 'nother story that I won't get into unless it actually happens.

I had a doctor's appointment today with my OB/GYN. I heard the baby's heartbeat. It's amazing how I can be so ill and the little thing seems to be uneffected.

So for now, I shall lay awake, sweating, and staring at the clock until the alarm goes off.

The doctor did not have a miracle cure. Her cure was, "you need to go to the hospital". I spent about 6 hours at the hospital receiving fluids and anti-nausea medications. The attending doctor wanted to admit me, but one of the residents overruled him (how often does that happen?). However, the resident did say that if this keeps happening over the next two weeks, they will admit me with some special kind of IV. Sounds like great fun. I'm now taking the anti-nausea medicine that all of the others bow to (this means that it's expensive, but most likely the best). If it doesn't work, I really don't know what I'll do.

My neighbor did an ultrasound for me on Saturday just so I could see the baby and have some peace of mind. The baby is doing exactly what it should be doing and is exactly the right size and everything. It's like the little thing doesn't have a clue what's going on. Oh to be that oblivious...