TMI Tuesday: Long Weekend

When I got the call from my wife on Thursday afternoon it seemed like everything was under control, worrisome but under control. As the end of the day approached, we knew that the situation wasn’t as clear cut as we once thought and so, as I previously wrote, I made the arrangements to hand everything off at lodge and made my way home as soon as possible. That was only the beginning. It has been a long few days with little sleep at night and too many hours of worrying during the day.

On Thursday, my wife arrived at the daycare to pick up our son not knowing what she was walking into. Almost immediately, the staff pulled her aside to show he some hives that had popped up on our son’s back and diaper area. Without hesitation, my wife called the pediatrician and had an appointment for early that evening. It didn’t look to be serious (reaction to the medication he was on) during the checkup and, instructions and new prescription in hand, she brought our son home to get some rest. By the time I walked in the door, things had progressively gotten worse but in so much as was to be expected based on the information she was given.

When we checked on him that night we knew that something was definitely wrong and we weren’t about to wait until the morning to see a doctor so we took him to the emergency room at three in the morning. A few hours later we had a slightly different plan in place to get everything under control and, after putting our son down for a nap, I headed off to work for the day. I was able to spend some time with my son when I got home but he was soon in bed trying to fight whatever was causing his issues. While there was some progress during the day something was still off by the time the sun went down.

Again, we checked on him around midnight and, after consulting with the pediatrician’s office over the phone, brought him back to the emergency room where his treatment was adjusted. By this point the medical chaos was taking a toll on all of us and we headed back to see the doctor on Saturday morning to have our son checked again. Having slept for most of the day, we were surprised when our son willingly went to bed at his usual time on Saturday night and while the evening was by no means normal, we did avoid a third trip to the hospital.

By Sunday morning, our son was no longer himself at all. He was definitely still uncomfortable from the hives/rash and now, as he began to swell, we could tell that he was in pain and wasn’t able to move around normally. With these changes we once again sought the advice of the pediatrician with little change to his treatment. By the time we woke him up that evening we knew that it was going to be another long night in the emergency room.

Thankfully, we got the information that we needed and the right routine put in place after hours upon hours of waiting and numerous tests performed on our poor baby. In the end, it is nothing that will impact him long term but the recovery is going to be much longer than we originally anticipated... around 6 weeks. This is definitely something that will require some adjustment over the next several weeks but it was certainly a relief that there is an end to this illness.

While we have had some trying times since our son’s birth dealing with minor health occurrences, this experience was really the first time when I felt the full range of emotions. There were moments when I was angry, scared, exhausted, and happy but the most prevalent feeling was that of helplessness. I pleaded and prayed on countless occasions that this wouldn’t be anything serious and that our baby boy would feel better. I couldn’t do anything but try to comfort him and be there for my family… it just didn’t seem like I was doing enough no matter what I did.

We are all recovering now but it is a weekend that is etched in my mind. While I know that it is unavoidable and that I have to come to terms with the fact that I can’t control certain situations I hope that our son never has to be in that situation again and I hope that my wife and I never have to feel so helpless again. But, for now, we are going to focus on recovering and making sure that our son continues to know that we are always there for him.

Don’t Be Albert Brooks!

All the extra hours at the office and at home this week came to a head today as many of my colleagues were out of the office at a client meeting in Judgement City. Actually, it was more than a meeting. We have spent the last couple of weeks preparing for our defense as our client (at the direction of someone else in the company) opened up the business to a variety of public relations firms. Thankfully, we not only have the knowledge and relationship to back us up but we have the results to demonstrate the work that we have put into this account over the past year.

Having previously met with this particular client and with everything that is swirling around in my life right now, we all agreed that I should stay at the office and make sure that someone was actively working on the account while we were also defending the business. It really was an odd feeling sitting at my desk and pitching another great story while my colleagues were making our case. However, no matter how unique the situation, I still had a job to do and so I put my head down and pushed like I have every other day of the year.

So during the middle of the meeting, I am sending emails to our client of the opportunities that have been secured and the interviews that have been requested. Nearly every person in the room was receiving the same email demonstrating another successful product launch as the challenges were fielded in a small conference room. We all had a job to do today and frankly I am glad that I was back in the office doing what I know how to do best… getting media coverage.  

While this is going on I could help but think of Albert Brooks in Defending Your Life. Actually, it is more along the lines of the Meryl Streep character in that movie when everyone knows that she lived a full life without fear but she still has to go through the process and stand trial anyway. While I certainly would have liked to have achieved more over the past year (this is the common disease that every successful person and firm in this industry shares), the work that we did get done could not have been matched by another firm.

The meeting is over and soon the week will be coming to an end. Now we wait for the decision while we continue pitching, scheduling, and producing the results that we have been since the relationship began. After all, this process is nothing new and we still have a job to do.

Not Much Longer Now…

Enjoying the quiet while it lasts!

I really don’t know where the time has gone. It feels as though we had just surprised the family only a short time ago with the announcement but it has now been eight and a half months and our son’s arrival is fast approaching. On the one hand I wish that we had more time to prepare the house and ourselves but on the other hand I can’t wait for the day when we can meet our baby.

The emotions have been running high lately with the stress even higher. The one constant during this time has been the comfort that our child brings when I feel him moving beneath my hand. Having him already starting to bond with me in that small way has made many days and countless moments bearable and the world just a little bit better. It is interesting to think that his arrival will make things so much more complex but at the same time simplify things like we have never experienced before.

Both of us have our moments of eagerness, times of stress, and instances of panic and nervousness. There are times when we want the birth to happen right then and there and other moments when we wish we had just a couple more weeks. With so many things that have been going on I wish we had more time to enjoy the anticipation and excitement. Those moments have been too few and far between.

Looking back there are moments that I will forever cherish... remembering the moments when decisions were made, furniture was slowly constructed, and the times when I was able to stand back for a few minutes and watch my wife fold baby clothes and put them away. I will never forget those moments that the two of us shared. They will remain prominent right there with the moments when we told our parents, the first time we saw our son and heard his heartbeat, and the even going back to the instant when we both agreed that we were ready to start a family many years ago sitting along King George Street in Jerusalem.

It has been a long time coming and while it may not have seemed like it was moving along so quickly in the moment, time has moved so fast and I wish we could just slow things down so we could enjoy the moments, minutes, and seconds. So many things have changed since that instant when we found the strength to become parents and all the trials since that discussion have continued to prepare us for what is just over two weeks away. While I still question whether I will be a good father I know that we will be a great family. Or, at the very least, an interesting one.

The Last Trip Through The Lobby

Working the graveyard shift is one that generally doesn’t bother me. I'ts quiet and I can get a decent amount of work done on the computer in the middle of the night. It has sapped some of my sleep but I am still able to get most of what I need to get done during the day so long as nothing pops up. It is a bit of a bother but nothing that can’t be overcome.

Sleep is something that can be made up, I certainly have on many of my days off, and after a couple of good night’s sleep the tiredness is soon forgotten. However, there is one thing that I can’t fully forget and, given the demographics of our building, something that I am most likely to see again. I can’t seem to get the last trips that some residents take through the lobby in the middle of the night.

Unfortunately, during a particularly unpleasant period over the first four months of the year I watched as this happened three times. Each time I said good bye without the expectation of a response. One of the residents I knew well while the others I only knew by name. Either way, it is something that is very difficult to witness and something that lingers with you during the overnight hours when you know there are people up stairs that are in worse shape than those who have passed.

These departures were so regular that it had gotten to the point that I recognized the medic that worked the same shift that I did whose job it was to check vitals and confirm time of death. About 30-40 minutes after this unpleasant declaration, the funeral home would arrive, recognize me behind the front desk, and head over to the elevator. The next time I would see them was when the elevator came back down, the doors opened, and they accompanied the resident through their last trip across the lobby.  

What might have been more difficult than that period of time was that in the months prior to the changing of the calendar I was asked to check on a resident who wasn’t doing well but still insisted on living alone. Each night, I would head up to his floor, open the unlocked door, and quietly walk down the hall and peek around the corner to make sure he was breathing. Every time I walked through the threshold I was terrified by what I might find. It wasn’t so much the fact that I might find that the resident had passed peacefully in his sleep and was no longer in pain it was more that I didn’t want to have to cause his children pain by informing them of his departure.

A couple months into the New Year, he also made his final journey through the lobby. A stark contrast to the man I met shortly after my wife and I moved into the building whose personality was barely contained by the concrete walls. That night in particular is the one that I will never forget.

During the night, when nothing is supposed to happen, it is these moments that are the most difficult but also the ones that motivate me to continue pushing forward. They also make me a more pleasant and tolerant person as I still say good morning and good night to everyone that passes through on my shift no matter what their response, or lack thereof, is going to be. But, more importantly, it motivates me because I dread the night that I witness this again and, I admit a little selfishly, I don’t want to be there when it happens.