Porter's new walker...

Well, not exactly a walker, but that's what he uses her for. Yes, I believe it's a she. This is her cute little front fender. All shiny and red with a racing stripe down the middle.And this, her darling little caboose.

I've never once had my caboose refered to as darling. (Isn't that something to envy?)This is her tatoo. She must have gone through a rebelious stage when she was a young trike. A youthly indiscretion. Had it not said something as wonderful as "Radio Flyer" she may never have found herself in our cart. The matching one on her caboose is not what you may think...it's a stick on. Did I mention that she's red and beautiful? Even her underbelly is red. I don't know what it is about charming little red objects that gets my heart pumping and my shutter finger itching to move, but it must be the same thing that inspires Kari to take many photos and edit them to her hearts content about her Kitchenaid. (I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have had the same tribute had it not been red. Right Kari?)
Tassels. How can you not love tassels.

(If Kyle asks, they're "manly tassels")

And here she is, in all her glory!

Porter loves her too. He pushes her around and sits on her trying to make her move. Maybe we should postpone giving Porter a younger sibling...

almost walking...

With the help of one finger, Porter can walk fairly well. Give him two fingers and he walks like a pro. Walking on his own is just around the corner... I can feel it.

peek-a-boo and some trees

We have some beautiful, enormous trees just up the road from us at the high school. Last night for FHE we headed up to the school to let Porter roam around to his hearts content. While wandering we noticed all of these enormous trees lining the walkway at the school. Kyle and Porter spent a lot of their time playing a game of peek-a-boo around these trees.
It was such a nice and relaxing evening. With two really cute boys. I love that it's finally warm enough outside to be spending so much of our time out there. Porter just loves being outside, and I think we've now found a favorite spot.

Yes, that is drool hanging from my child's chin, but I thought it added such a realistic quality to the photo.

Porter is starting to talk. And, no, it's not always just the loud babbling noises that he shouts out (although he still does that too). Porter will very distinctly say "hi" and will sometimes (just for kicks) throw in a wave to go along with it. He also says "mama" and "dada", but they are interchangeable, and I don't really think he quite has a grasp on what those two mean just yet.
(thanks Kyle for the photo editing!)

Kyle!

There really was a part that I wrote in the last post about Kyle! I don't know how it got deleted, or why it didn't post, but I promise that entire blog was not to be just about me and Porter! Kyle has had his hands full for the past week too.

Do you remember Mr. Mom? Love the show, love Michael Keaton, love the 80's.
How can you not love Mr. Mom? Well, that's the roll that Kyle has been playing for the past week while I have been incommunicado. And let me tell you that he's been doing it a lot better than poor Michael Keaton.

There is food on the table every night when I wake up at 5, edible food. Kyle can cook and he has been doing it nightly for me. (No, ironing board grilled cheese sandwiches in this house).

I have always been so surprised at how messy a house can get in a single day, and yet, Kyle keeps the house pretty darn clean. AND, he does it all while I'm sleeping off a night shift in the next room and I never hear a sound.

There is a happy (sometimes clean) little boy, who is well taken care of each day by his daddy. He's a great dad, and he's enjoying his stay-at-home time with Porter.

Kyle did well in all of his classes this semester and has one summer chemistry class that starts up in a couple of weeks. Until then, he loves his daddy duties. And we love him for doing them so well. (he's a pretty handsome guy too, eh?)

Would you rather?

This is a great game! Want to play? Rules are easy, you must choose one of the two options given to you. I know, I'll go first!!

Kyle: "Would you rather get stung by a thousand bees? Or, would you rather work 6 (count 'em, 6) 12 hour night shifts in a row?"

Me: "Neither, but if I must choose... I'll take my luck with the bees."

Kyle: "Would you rather eat chitlins for every meal for the rest of your life,"

Me: "Wait, what are chitlins?"

Kyle: "Lower intestines of a pig"

Me: "Go on."

Kyle : "Or, work 6 night shifts in a row?"

Me: "Chitlins. Next question"

Kyle: "Would you rather live in Death Valley, in the dead of summer with nothing to eat but the hottest wasabi and nothing to drink, til the end of time? Or, work 6 night shifts in a row in a busy ER that is somewhat short-staffed?"

Me: "I don't really see much of a difference..."

Kyle: "Would you rather have Hillary Clinton for President of the United States? Or work 6 night shifts in a row, in a busy short-staffed ER with crazy busy/crazy nuts patients?

Me: "The things I do for my country..."

Okay, okay, so maybe I'm being a tad over-dramatic. But, do you want to know what I've been doing for the past six days? Do you want to guess if I enjoyed it or not? I love being a nurse, and I love my job (most days) but I do not....wait let me emphasize... I DO NOT like working 6, 12 hour night shifts in a row. I don't know how people do it all the time. 3 in a row, no problem. 4 is a cinch. 5 kinda stinks, but that number 6 is downright nasty.

Anyway- enough with the begging for sympathy. I just thought that I would share with you all the reason that there has not been a posting for such a while. I'm sorry, but I've been a little preoccupied.

working 6 shifts.

in a row.

busy shifts.

with some insane patients.

but, it's over.

that's all that matters.

and I survived.

and (more importantly) so did my patients.

So, let's move on and play some quick catch-up as to what we've been up to!

*We went to Moab for the last week in April to celebrate Dave's birthday. Happy birthday Dave! We went hiking through Little Wildhorse Canyon. It's a beautiful little slot canyon. A busy little slot canyon. We're talking tiny. I mean if you run into someone coming the other direction, you either have to back up, or do this:

We also hiked up to Cable Arch. This was a fun little hike and a really pretty arch. (That's one more for my list, bringing the total to 13 thus far!) For those who haven't been, it's named Cable Arch, because on the large hill behind it is a cable that you can climb up to get a great view of... well... everything, including Cable Arch.

(thanks Drew for climbing up again in the dark so I could get the shot.)

It was a short trip to Moab, but we sure enjoyed ourselves and the hospitality of my in-laws who are always so welcoming.

*Then we came home and I had a message on my voicemail. A message from Dixie, asking me to interview with them for a job in their ER. Later that same day I had an interview. Even later that same day I had a new job. And a little bit later that day I gave my two weeks notice to my current job. That was a good day.

Quick side-note: As I was headed out of my interview, I was so excited. I was positive that I had the job. I walked out of a set of double doors on one end of the ER waiting room to head to my car. From across this very, VERY large waiting room I hear someone yell out, "DID YOU GET IT??" I looked up, the waiting room was practically empty except for a very large, very capable security guard who somewhat resembled Michael Clarke Duncan from The Green Mile sitting at his post at the opposite end of the room. I looked around and pointed my tiny fingers at my chest while raising my eyebrows as if to ask, "Big sir, are you speaking to me?"

He smiled such a friendly smile and nodded, "YOU HAD AN INTERVIEW RIGHT? WELL, DID YOU GET IT?" I made my way over to his station and told him that I thought it had gone very well, and I was pretty sure I got the job. He smiled again and reached out to shake my hand. "Welcome to Dixie. I look forward to seeing you again." I shook his hand and introduced myself. He then introduced himself to me and told me that everyone calls him "Gater" and that I should refer to him as such.

Thank you, Gater, for being the first to officially welcome me to Dixie.

*Such a long post, I'm sorry. You can take a nap at this point and come back if you want to read more. I promise not to make it much longer.

*After I landed my new job, and Porter had his fun trip to the ER, we headed up to visit my family in Lindon for a few days.

We had a family dinner to celebrate Phil and Craig's birthdays. Happy birthday boys! Porter was a little subdued during the whole visit though. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with being on round-the-clock benadryl for an entire week though. But, he enjoyed himself all the same. We spent a few days shopping and hanging out with family. Papa introduced Porter to Maggie and by extension, the game of fetch. It was a great trip, as always, and we look forward to going again. Thanks Mom and Dad for your hospitality as well!

*Porter's doing great. He's back to being himself. Just a happy, smiling little kid with normal size kid lips and a normal size kid uvula. He's just so darling, I can't seem to get enough of him. We've started him on regular milk at the recommendation of his pediatrician, and Porter just loves it! We now have to carry an epi-pen with us wherever we go, and have to be very cautious when trying anything new. Small price to pay for such a cute little boy though.

*I start my new job Sunday. I also got my hair on it's way back to blonde. It's sort of strawberry-blondish at the moment, but I feel more like myself again.

*And that's about it. Looking back over this post, it's anything but a quick update, but here it is. Mostly it's me just rambling, but I thought I would share what we've been up to. We've had a fun couple of weeks... busy... but fun.

I've always loved the adrenaline rush ...

But, running into the ER with my little boy in my arms is not the kind of adrenaline rush I was looking for.

Friday night we had plans. I worked on Thursday night, so I would likely be up late in an attempt to get back on a day schedule, and Kyle would stay up with me because he had his last final. It was a night to celebrate! We went to Smith's at 8:30 and got ice cream and brownie mix and stopped by Hollywood video for a good flick. Porter would be going down for bed around 9:30 and we would be able to stay up watching movies into the wee hours of the morning. But, our plans were foiled.

We decided to switch Porter over to formula and we gave it to him for his last feeding before bed on Friday. (I highly reccommend not giving your child a new food before bed-time - a rookie mistake). We put him down at a quarter to ten and shortly thereafter he started to scream. It's a little unusual lately for Porter to cry after being put down, he normally falls right asleep with hardly a noise at all. But, he was screaming, and the scream started to change from a "pay-attention-to-me" cry into a panic cry. I went in to see what was wrong, Kyle was right behind and I picked Porter up from his crib.

His lips were swollen, they almost looked like they were blistered. He had snot and mucous and vomit and all manner of secretions everywhere and he was struggling to breathe with the thick mess of junk in his mouth. I grabbed the bulb suction, but the secretions were too thick to suction out. We scraped as much crap out of his mouth as possible before hopping in the car and heading into my work. I called my work to give them heads-up that we were on our way in. I sat in the back with him, clearing out his mouth every 5 seconds before it would fill right up again and he would shake his arms and legs while struggling to get air into his poor little body. Hives were starting to appear. Kyle drove and, by the way, he should be able to make a very profitable living as a stunt driver. (Just so you all know, we can make it to the hospital from our home in under 3 minutes, if you don't worry about laws and don't have a problem with breaking them.)

I rushed Porter into a room and I started suctioning him while my co-workers started an IV.

It took several pokes to get one started on him, 5 to be exact. But, thanks to the great staff we have, John got an IV in his foot and Nate was able to get some benadryl and steroids into him. It took about 15 minutes and a breathing treatment for him to start breathing better, but he was breathing and that's all that mattered.

As a reaction to the formula, his uvula had swollen and was taking up a good portion of his throat, making it difficult to breathe and swallow his own saliva. On top of the swelling, he has a viral pneumonia, or possibly an aspiration pneumonia from him inhaling the secretions. Either kind of pneumonia was not helping with his struggle to breathe or to thin out the secretions he was rapidly producing.

Within 20 minutes of getting the benadryl, the swelling of his lips had gone down. The hives that had erupted all over his tiny little body were going down in size and redness. His breathing wasn't as noisy and he was sleeping. Kyle and I could now breathe. This is not the kind of adrenaline rush that I had signed up for. It's a completely different kind of thing when I'm taking care of someone else's child.

We were able to take him home an hour later. Kyle and I stayed up until his next dose of Benadryl was due. He then spent the rest of the night sleeping in our bed with us. I have never been more scared in my life.

The next morning, you wouldn't even know that anything had happened. He is such a happy kid and he's breathing well. No signs of a visit to the ER other than the bruising from the multiple IV sticks, and that he seems a little drunk from the benadryl. The bottom lip was still slightly swollen until Sunday, but he's doing much better.

I'm so grateful to the staff that was there in our ER that night. I'm grateful for Nate, John, Sheridawn and Dr. Bleazard for all of their help.

I'm grateful that they all remained calm while I almost lost it.

And, I'm grateful for the stunt-driver of a husband I have, who also remained calm and held our little boy all night.

I'm so grateful that we went to check on Porter; we normally let him cry-it-out at night to go to sleep. I'm grateful for that still small voice that kept pushing me to go take a look.

I'm grateful for a happy healthy, breathing little boy.

I'm just grateful.