I feel like a sitcom. Attention: scatology to follow. Please do not read if it grosses you out like it does me.
Due to Ainsley’s dietary/GI issues, I had to collect a- shall we just say- sample from her diaper. It had to be tested within one hour. It’s not like she can tell me when she’s about to make a sample, so I have to hang around and wait. The lab tech suggested I line her diaper in cellophane. No thank you.
So I collect the sample (ew), redress and pack up the kid (mad about this upheaval of her usual daily routine), throw on some decent clothes (still nothing that fits but one pair of pants), and rush to the hospital lab. This is not an easy task! Then traffic was slow, a road was closed, and I had to navigate through a neighborhood to make it to the hospital where I’ve never been. There is NO parking nearby so I have to hike, carrying a baby, a long distance. The sky sends forth some sprinkles of rain just to keep me moving fast enough. I’m stopped by some very sweet, well-intentioned hospital welcome crew (like Wal-Mart greeters but nuns) who want to touch the baby and make her smile. Time is ticking by, so I rudely say I have to run (rude to nuns= going a hot place after death??). I find the lab, hand over the order, give them the sample, and let them know I called the lab and they said they didn’t need much. I was feeling very accomplished for making it there.
After a few minutes, they come back with two more biohazard collection cups. Apparently this test has to be run in triplicate (have they not heard of the Barr Decision?). I have to do this little madcap stunt two more times this week. Arg.
Meanwhile, her issues are not improving, despite my sadly bland diet and my nursing technique changes. I’m exhausted even though I’m sleeping at night and I can’t stop worrying. She was gaining weight OK then suddenly didn’t gain any weight last week, a very bad sign that things are worse. I know, I know, worrying helps no one. But I’m new at this and I would cut off my left arm (I write and draw left-handed) if it only meant she would be healthy.
Well, tonight is Heroes. I’m going to hang out with some friends and try to remember that Ainsley’s going to be OK.