Molly is Home

Sorry it took me so long to post this. Been a long day. More later.

Back at RWJ. Again

Molly was terribly unhappy on Saturday evening and ended up not sleeping much all night. Sunday morning she had a 105 temperature, so we took her to the ED at RWJ at around noon. We spent a casual afternoon having blood drawn, a couple x-rays, and aurine sample taken, while squished in a crowded pod with a tiny television. Around 3:30 they moved us all to the five-star accomodations on the pediatric floor. We've been there before. Molly is like a rock star up there: everyone knows her.

At any rate it appears she has a urinary tract infection and she'll be in the hospital a few days, at least. They're waiting for some blood culture results to determine if the antibiotics she is on will suffice, or if they'll need to change to another. But that's essentially the treatment: Motrin for fever; antibiotics for infection.

That's basically it.

Bright and Early at CHoP; and Gettin' "Stuck"

The alarm went off at 4 am this morning. Of course, we still didn't get out of the house until about 4:55. It takes about an hour and fifteen minutes to get to CHoP; we need coffee; we've got an hour and five. As one would expect, since we're in a hurry, there are two cars in front of us at the DD drive though - the first of whom is clearly ordering a custom breakfast sandwich that has to be delicately prepared by the lone employee manning the entire place. We then proceeded to hit three straight red lights, all of which appeared to be red at the same time as the intersecting light. I had a slight sense the day was going to be less than stellar.

But miraculously, somehow, through some stroke of absolute miracle [I didn't go less than 80 the whole way], we made it to the hospital with four minutes to spare.

There was no reason for anything to be delayed at that hour, so we anticipated Molly going in for surgery at about 7:15. The only thing that could hold her up - and has before - was her IV. She is what the nurses refer to as a tough stick. We remind the nurse this is the case.

She pages an all-star.

He gets the IV in on the first try and tries to sell my wife on the concept of a wall-mounted flat-screen TV.

Definitely an all-star.

Molly went out right on time. They told us the procedure would be fast, and it was. After we sent Molly off I went down to the cafeteria for a couple bagels and a coffee. I went straight back upstairs to meet Erin. Before we had finished eating our bagels they called to tell us she was out and recovering.

We joined Molly back in prep/recovery. We were keeping a close eye on the time and the weather because we didn't want to get caught in traffic or the "snow storm." It looked like we were going to get out reasonably early.

Then Molly woke up.

And then she threw up.

After a little while she fell back to sleep and was resting comfortably for several hours. Eventually we got her to keep some fluids down and they agreed to let us go home. We were walking out of the hospital at around 1 pm apparently beating traffic, snow storms, and historical precedent.

All in all, quite a good day. We actually pulled off an out-patient surgical procedure. Amazing.

Then we got home. And here is where the day became just plain swell.

It looked like it was going to work out nicely, since there was a box on the step for Gavin. I got a new pair of running shoes in the mail yesterday and Gavin wanted to know why he hadn't gotten any packages lately. So this was quite a welcome turn of events.

Erin walked in and checked the voicemail. I grabbed the US mail. As she listened to the messages, I went through the pile. In the span of about 30 seconds the following took place:

1) I got called for jury duty. I can probably get out of it, but seriously, is there a more clear symbol of bad karma?

2) I was denied for a loan I didn't apply for. I presume it was because I talked to the loan officer about potentially refinancing and then never got the paperwork done, but I really have no idea. In any event, it was nice to see the bank I've been using since 1997 stand behind one of their loyal customers.

3) Our new insurance decided to no longer cover Molly's formula. Not a huge deal, I mean I guess we shouldn't have gotten used to someone else paying for Molly's food anyway. But it was a nice stipend. And remember, when I say new insurance I mean new six months ago. So I'll have to assume this denial will be accompanied by six months worth of bills.

"Yes, hello, I have a 3 pm appointment to see 'The Man'."

"Right you're scheduled for the 'kick in the groin and steal your girl?' Go right in he's expecting you."

But let's look on the bright side. We're home and Molly is feeling much better. In fact, as I type she and her big brother are sound asleep. And I will soon follow.

Thanks to all of you who called/sent emails and texts to check in today. We appreciate you all looking out for us.

Oh yeah, and since I know you've all been on the edge of your respective seats since last Wednesday: I gave up procrastination for Lent. Friday

An Afternoon at CHoP

So much better when it's just a couple hours. And even more so when it is pre-planned and non-emergency. Of course, it's still a hospital. And it's still in Philadelphia.

I don't miss making that drive. Let's hope we can continue to avoid needing to do so.

But I did get to wear a Super Bowl Champs t-shirt into the city of "brotherly love." It's like someone offering a ride on their private jet: you'd be foolish to pass up the opportunity.

So the Bear is scheduled for the surgery to have tubes put in her ears next week. We've been informed it's a "day surgery" and we should be on our way home in no time flat. We will likely have to be there at about 6 am; they'll prep her for the procedure, which reportedly takes all of 15 minutes; and then she'll have to recover for a few hours. Try to imagine our excitement if all actually goes this smoothly. Fingers crossed.

Her vitals were excellent yesterday. All the numbers looked good, her lungs sounded good, she was happy and well behaved.

We actually had the same nurse practitioner prepping her that we saw before the catheterization in October 2006. Needless to say she was taken aback by Molly's progress and demeanor. I hate to put words in anyone's mouth but I would be shocked if she thought back then she'd be seeing us almost a year and a half later for an elective surgery.

Of course, all kidding aside, it's still surgery and Molly is still delicate. The procedure is short, but if her breathing isn't stable once they anesthetize her, there is a possibility they'll need to open up her airway. This is never an easy job, since her airway is so narrow. And there is always the possibility once this happens that she won't go back to breathing on her own. There is a chance of this happening to anyone. But, obviously, odds increase as a result of Molly's somewhat unique genetic makeup.

But they don't really talk about that much, because it's so unlikely. We, like many other things medical, are just sort of keen to it because if our experiences.

At any rate, let's hope Molly stays healthy for the next few days so she can go in as scheduled, and have all that extra strength. We'll keep you posted on her, ovbiously.

"You Can't Win."

C'mon you know the scene: Right before Rocky storms out of his Main Line mansion [I know I wish he lived in North Jersey, too, but I didn't write the movie and they had to make him a Philly guy for the sentimental attachment] to drive his Lambourghini recklessly through the streets, his condescending and pessimistic wife tells him all the reasons he is crazy to fight the big, mean Russian who has just killed Apollo, culminating with the dramatic (and high-pitched), "You can't win."

So it's not a perfect football metaphor, although brilliantly written amidst mid-1980s Cold War tension, but as a Giants fan I've got to say I felt a bit like Rocky walking into the ring against the overpowering, genetically superior, and thus far perfect New England Patriots the other night.

We hung tough with them on Dec 29, losing by decision after a 15 round battle. We used the momentum from that game to catapult through the playoffs, beating the two best teams in the NFC (two of the three best teams in the league). And finally, somehow, after establishing ourselves as a legitimate contender, upended the "best team in the history of the NFL" - the undisputed heavyweight champs - with a flawless defensive scheme designed to pressure the unflappable Tom Brady, and another solid effort from our coming-of-age-before-our-eyes-QB-of-right-now.

I'd be lying if I said I knew we could do it all along. Hell I picked us to go 4-12 at the Draft Party back in April. I was nervous going into the Tampa game; I had a good feeling about Dallas; I was scared of Green Bay. Once we got to the Super Bowl, "I am just glad to be here. Wanted to do my part and help out the team." Seriously: Super Bowl runners-up; the 19th game ending in a win for a perfect team; a gutsy Giants squad who won 10 straight games on the road, including one in a European country on the hallowed grounds of Wembley, one in the hostile environment that is Dallas, one on the frozen tundra of Lambeau in the second coldest game of all-time! I mean c'mon, how could I be disappointed with that season?

The Pats were perfect. They set records in just about everything. They're a dynasty. I'd be lying if I hadn't thought "we can't win."

But then a funny thing happened at the end of a 60 minute battle. Don't get me wrong: some loose balls bounced the right way; some wayward passes fell shockingly incomplete; a QB refusing to lose somehow breaks four tackles to loft a ball downfield where a special teams expert/# 4 WR makes amazing use of his helmet during the gutsiest drive in recent SB memory (surpassing the drive Brady and the Pats had just completed moments earlier).

And we get to spend the next year as the Super Bowl Champions.

But what am I going to do for the next seven months? Ah the wonders of DVR.