lawmummy

And exhale.

Okay, first, if your child ever has to have a surgical procedure done, I don’t care where you live, you should consider Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. It’s amazing. And it’s not just me who thinks so. You can see their accolades here - but most notably Child magazine has ranked CHOP as the best pediatric hospital in the country for four years running.

And it’s justified.

This is not my first experience with CHOP. Katie was seen at CHOP for her crushed vocal cord when she was a newborn. And they were fabulous then, too.

So, second, if you live anywhere near Philadelphia and your child needs ENT care, you have to see Dr. Handler (at CHOP). There’s a wait, but again, also worth it. His bedside manner alone deserves the highest kudos. He personally called us yesterday to check on Amy. Not his nurse. Not his office. Not a recording. He called. It’s stuff like that which makes a parent feel confident about their child’s medical care.

So, you’re getting the sense that the surgery went well. It did.

It was kind of nerve-wracking at first. I hate crowds and the waiting room was crowded. But the wait wasn’t long and we were whisked off to surgery in no time.

I won’t bore you with too many details. A friend was there, one of the chief anesthesiologists, which made me feel lots better. The nurses were great. They really made Amy feel comfy.

The wait was excruciating. I was in the waiting room with parents whose child was having open heart surgery. I can’t even begin to imagine what that would be like. Apparently, they expected to be in the waiting room for “hours and hours.”

Amy’s surgery only took 20 minutes. Dr. Handler came out and said that once they took out the adenoids, that it was clear that it needed to be done. The X-rays had shown that they were large, but they were “huge” and “grossly infected.” He says that her breathing should be much, much better in 6-8 weeks.

The waking up was kind of traumatic. There was lots of screaming for “Mommy” and despite the fact that I was holding her, she was inconsolable. They decided to give her more morphine for pain, but there were some minor issues with her breathing and blood pressure which lasted, I’m sure only 10-15 minutes, but felt like hours. I had to give her some oxygen with a little mask to get her numbers up, so that she could have more morphine. Morphine is my friend. She settled down immediately.

Her recovery has been terrific, if a little sporadic. She’s stuffy and she has puffy red marks under her eyes. But she’s chatty and appears not to have any pain (though she’s occasionally cranky, which is a sign that she needs more oxycodone).

But all is well, I am very happy to have it over and we are expecting her to be 100% within 2 weeks (if not sooner).

Thanks for the well wishes, they worked!

Ames’ surgery has been scheduled for 8:45 a.m. tomorrow.

I am nervous.

Yes, it’s easy stuff, minor surgery, nothing to worry about.

But then, I am the girl with the family who seems to attract medical gaffes - including the fact that my mother went into a coma from gallbladder surgery - so I have learned in my life that nothing is a given. And this is my little girl. She is not only young (not yet three) but itsy-bitsy (just 26 pounds) and the fretting has begun.

Of course, prior to the fretting, we had the routine “screaming at the insurance company on the phone” episodes. You have to understand that my insurers are idiots - we have Keystone which is through Blue Cross. And apparently their hiring criteria is being able to answer the phone - and not even that has to be done well.

Flash to this morning. I figure I should call and make sure that there are no surprises for tomorrow. “Maria” tells me that I need a referral for Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. This is surprising since the folks at CHOP didn’t mention that before, so I ask her to check and see whether the referral from before is still good since the surgeon who saw her and scheduled the surgery is the surgeon who will be performing the operation. “Maria” informs me that that would normally be the case but that my referral is not good because Ames’ surgeon is not at the same hospital from before. This is confusing. So I tell her that I don’t understand since we were seen at CHOP and the surgery is at CHOP. She tells me - in an angry tone - that I wasn’t at CHOP. I tell her that I don’t care what her computer is telling her, that I know that I was physically in the building and it was, in fact, CHOP. She tells me that’s not possible.

Possible or not, you moron, I was there.

She reads from the computer that I visited “CSA” - which stands for Children’s Surgical Associates at, you guessed it, CHOP.

She tells me that it’s not it.

So then she says “Oh, I see, you weren’t at CHOP, you were at Chestnut Hill Hospital.”

And I tell her that I was at CHOP and I was also at Chestnut Hill Hospital on the same day because the stupid insurance rules would allow Amy to be seen at CHOP but not X-rayed there. So, I had to call my primary care physician and get another referral to have X-rays at Chestnut Hill Hospital, which we then had to personally deliver back to CHOP.

No, she says, that’s not it. You were never at CHOP.

Oh yeah, you can imagine that by now, smoke was actually coming out of my ears.

Then she tells me that I need to get another referral from my primary care physician.

In between all of this, “Maria” has put me on hold about five times.

I finally can’t take it anymore and tell her that I’m going to hang up so that she can ruin someone else’s day. I then call CHOP.

CHOP checks their records and says that they have the referral from March for the surgeon - and that it’s good through June 26. I tell her what the insurance company said about the additional referral and the extremely pleasant and patient woman at CHOP explains to me that the old insurance rules from more than two years ago required separate referrals (got your hands on an old manual, Maria?) but that was no longer the case and that “Maria” was just wrong about everything else. She double-checked and said that my referral was fine, that they had a record of our visit (!) last month and that I was all set (yes, I got her name).

Bully.

So, despite my insurance company’s evil ploy to drive me stark raving mad, we’re all set for tomorrow.

Except for my nerves, that is.

Wish us luck.

I know that there are a few of you who read the blog who also blog, so I thought I’d get your opinion…

I am rarely snarky on my non-lawmummy blogs.  Really.  Well, except when it come to Richard Hatch.  But otherwise, rarely snarky.

I had a situation on my tax blog where someone was rude/dimissive to me during a phone conversation - on which he called me - and I’ve been mulling it over in my head.  To post about it or not to post about it?

(insert dramatic pause)

What criteria do you use for reporting bad behavior?  Do I call him on it? 

Your thoughts are appreciated - actually, your thoughts are desperately, desperately needed.

And here I thought it was just the smell…

I’ve figured out why women seem to really love their coffee. I mean, really love their coffee.

Apparently the consumption of coffee from women is linked to an increased sex drive.

Oh yeah.

The story, as announced by the press in a country that hasn’t really mastered the art of coffee (there has to be a joke in there somewhere), appears here.

The study was first performed on rats. The British Coffee Association spokesperson had this to say:

Humans would have to drink 10 cups of coffee in one go to get the same effect and that is not the normal consumption level.

And I say, says who?

If this information were common knowledge in the US, you could kiss the cosmo industry goodbye. Folks would be drinking coffee by the gallon. Better yet? Coffee martinis (I make a nice chocolate one with coffee beans).

It’s already the case that statistically, Americans drink more coffee than any other people in the world. You link coffee to sex and ba-da-bing, Starbucks would be the most successful company in the country.

And here I thought Chris bringing me a cup of coffee every day was simply thoughtful…

How cute is this?

Okay, hubby used to be a rocker. Egads, I can hear him cringing at the words “used to be”. Yeah, I meant to say that he is a rocker. He just rocks the baby now…

At any rate, he’s over the pink for the girls.

He’s not so much into the cutesy bulldozers and sports figures for Charlie. He is itching to get some rock and roll into our kids’ wardrobes.

And then I saw this tee over at Trendy Tadpole.

And I knew what I was getting Charlie. I emailed it to Chris to check out who had this reply:

Hell, could buy it for Katie as well.

To which I replied that I had already decided on a Johnny Cash shirt for Katie (she has it in her).

And because I can already hear Suzanne and Madeline screeching about Amy and her being a middle child, relax. There’s an “Elbis” shirt for her (yes, my child can pick out an Elvis song with only a few notes).

If you’re into rock and roll, check out the site - it will make you smile.

Here at the house, we’re cleaning and grilling up a storm. Hope your day is a little more grilling, a little less cleaning…

Gulp.

I dunno if Disney will let it stay up (we’ll see) but I posted a fairly controversial piece over at my blog about whether being married equals economic advantages for couples and for children. If you’re interested, wander over and give it a peek.

Ahh, the words of someone clearly ready to be a mother…

Lest you think it’s some young kid, let me set you straight: those are the words of 60 year old Frieda Birnbaum, a psychologist from Saddle River, New Jersey. She just delivered her fourth and fifth children (twins) in Hackensack this week. That’s right, twins, at 60.

She had them deliberately - through in vitro fertilization. Because of her age, no US clinic would agree to treat her, so flying in the face of both medical science and common sense, she went to a clinic in South Africa that will apparently do anything for a dollar.

I’ve been critical of much older parents like Frieda before - I think it’s selfish and unfair to the children - but this time around, I thought I’d make an effort to listen and find out whether there was some reason that Ms. Birnbaum had that would make it all okay. Years of trying to having a baby and couldn’t? Previously in a bad relationship? Not financially secure? Nope on all counts. Frieda has a good life, financially, has been married to the same man for more than 30 years and has three other children ranging in age from 6 to 31.

And what do her other children think of this? Her 29 year old daughter is “appalled” and well she should be. Frieda described her relationship with her daughter on CNN as “basically, she thinks I’m crazy.” Well, good. That makes two of us.

Her reasons for having these babies this late in life sounded flip and contrite. She cited that holding babies was “peaceful” (um, for about 10 minutes, lady, didn’t you do this once or twice before?) and made her feel “whole”. She wanted a playmate for her younger son, she said (right, since 6 year olds sooo enjoy sharing 60 year old mom with babies) - apparently the kids at the park must shun her child if she can’t find a playmate within her own community.

But my favorite reason for having the babies? “Don’t get a dog, get a baby instead.” I swear I’m not making this up.

Wha-huh?

Well, there’s rationale for you.

And her doctor? Notwithstanding the overly shiny and poorly tied necktie that he was sporting during the CNN interview, I think he’s irresponsible for promoting this as a healthy, viable lifestyle. Yes, people are living longer than before. That doesn’t mean that they need to have extra children. That woman is older than my own mother - who is a grandmother eight times over. Should mom hanging up her dancing shoes? Of course not! She’s a great grandmother, the kids love her. She does crafts, she runs around, she sings, the whole bit. But when she goes home, she’ll be the first to tell you that having children really is for the young. And by young, I don’t mean that you have to be 18 - I turned 30 the year that I had my first child. I think there’s a whole range of years that having children is appropriate. I happen to think that 60 is outside of that window.

It seems to me that if you genuinely felt a void in your life and felt like you could still be a good parent at age 60, you’d save some of those tens of thousands of dollars that was spent on IVF and flying to clinics around the world and consider adoption. Somewhere, I’m sure there’s a little child sitting in New Jersey just wishing for a financially stable home where he or she was wanted. And no, it wouldn’t make the headlines at CNN but I guess, according to Ms. Birnbaum’s rationale, it would still be better than getting a dog.

A friend of the family passed away this morning.  He was actually a friend of Chris’ parents first, but has a very special place in all of our hearts.

According to the email from his wife:

He wasn’t quiet yesterday afternoon and managed to muster all his strength to shout loud and clear:  BE ENTHUSIASTIC.

If you knew him, you’d completely understand how very much in character that was.

I have been lucky enough to know Dr. Linneman for more than ten years.  We had quite the auspicious beginning, he and I.  My husband shared a letter with me this morning that he wrote to our friend’s wife, and I asked if it was okay if I passed along part of it on the blog.  He said sure, so here it is: 

There’s one story which epitomizes your husband’s influence on those around him, and which I’m not certain he ever heard. It was a Friday night at Jug Hollow Road and I had convinced Kelly to come out and meet my parents. It being Friday, I knew you’d be there, and I assured Kelly that you were great, just like family, and that she had nothing to be concerned about. She was still concerned.

When we arrived, true to form, you were in the one orange chair, my mom in the other, and my dad was on one of the black chairs. Kelly was very nervous, and turned down the offer of a drink because her Baptist background made it difficult to reconcile “drinking” and “parent,” even though you were all clearly working on a cocktail. Frankly, she could have used the drink.

Unfortunately, on this particular Friday something happened which I can safely say was rare, if not unheard of. Slowly others began to arrive - Aunt Diane, Noha and a friend, Jay, and maybe some others.

Soon she was surrounded by conversation between family and friends with a long history, very little of which she knew or understood. Kelly was decidedly unhappy about the situation, and was feeling quite out of place.

When your husband arrived, being the polite Southern girl, she offered to sit on the floor and did so, over his protestations. Seeing her on the floor, this lanky, balding seventy-something year old said to her “that looks comfortable, I think I’ll join you,” folded up his legs, and plunked himself down right next to her.

It was a very small gesture, and very typical Bob Linneman, but it made her feel at ease. More importantly, it converted what could have been a disastrous evening to a delightful one. Frankly, I don’t think it’s too much to say that the cornerstone for Kelly’s wonderful relationship with my parents was in some ways laid with that one small gesture.

He’s right, you know.  I was so worried about making a good impression.  I was, after all, the new girlfriend.  And the old girlfriend had been around awhile.  And with that simple act, sitting down beside me on the floor that day, I felt at home.   I did actually get that glass of wine that I had initially turned down and I had a lovely evening chatting with Chris’ parents, family and friends.

Never underestimate the power of the little things.  They can mean everything.

My peonies bloomed yesterday. I’m so freaking excited. This Sunday, I swear I’ll have pictures for GTS.

For now, I’ll leave you with the results of my quiz which I found at Earthly Garden (check Susan out, she’s doing a great job with the site):

Your gardening self-score is 72%.

This is a pretty serious passion for you, isn’t it? You’re out there, digging, amending, turning the compost, killing the bugs or even encouraging the beneficial insects. When you can’t be outside because of weather, you’re inside studying, diagramming, building, planning. You get everything out of your garden that you put into it, and probably soon you’ll be scoring even higher on this quiz.

How much of a gardener are you?
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