Eye doctors, ambulances, advice, and labels.

Tommy has had an eventful week.  Which means I had a eventful stressful week!

On Tuesday we saw the ophthalmologist.  The appointment went well, the ophthalmologist gave us a good report.  Tommy appears to use both eyes together- and that always gives me a glimmer of hope.  I still remember the day that Tommy had his cataract removed and the doctor could not guarantee he would ever be able to see out of that eye.  (Yay, it works!)  He said patching appears to be working- and continue to patch 4-6 hours per day (boo to patching!)  He said pressures "look good"  (they are 16 in bad eye and 13 in good eye).  He said- time to order glasses.  The news I've been hoping for and dreading for some time.  I'm hopeful that he will be able to see better, but somehow the glasses make all of this so real.  I know that doesn't make sense- we patch, we deal with contacts, all that is very real, but glasses seem like such a statement to the world.  It just makes my heart feel a little sad.

In the waiting room!

The real excitement has nothing to do with Tommy's eyes.  Tommy got the "back to school virus" and it hit him hard.  He woke up on Wednesday with a runny nose and terrible fussiness.  Me, being the good working mom that I am, gave him albuterol to fend off any breathing problems.  He was afebrile, but I fully planned on sending him to daycare.  His breathing wasn't BAD, just congested.  An hour later it wasn't better, so I gave him another dose (still no wheezing even with a stethoscope).  On my way to daycare, I decide that we should see the doctor that day- just in case- and because I knew our favorite doctor wasn't in the office the next day.  I get the first available appointment, which was in 2 hours.  Not enough time to go to work, but in plenty of time to go to Target!  (We needed a few last minute things for Tommy's sister's birthday).  We leave Target, get to the doctor a few minutes early, and Tommy has progressed to serious respiratory distress (grunting, breathing fast etc).  He gets a few treatments in the office, gets some oxygen, doesn't get better.

Doctor's office (poor baby)

The doctor is concerned enough to make us go to the ER... via ambulance.  Which may make one think that we were immediately whisked away to the hospital (~10 minute drive with traffic).  Ahhh, no.  The ambulance took 15-20 minutes to arrive, much to the doctor's dismay.  Next, the EMTs decide that Tommy needs a CARSEAT to ride to the hospital in.  (No disrespect to any EMT professionals, but, seriously?)  Ok, so we get to the ambulance, DRIVE to my car in the parking lot, 2 EMTs and a security guard attempt to get the seat out of my car.  Did I mention that all 3 of these guys were men in their 50s?  Yep, it was actually funny to watch them try to finagle it out.  They wouldn't let me let go of Tommy since he would scream.  It took them 10 minutes.  Then they couldn't figure out how to attach it to the stretcher.  Genius.  Tommy's dad, who missed my initial texts and was 20 minutes away, beat us to the hospital by a LONG shot.

Tommy strapped in a carseat and strapped to a stretcher.   (huh?)

I totally rock the monitor!

We finally get to the hospital, get admitted, and spend the night.

Sweet sleeping angel

I'm feeling better!

Poor Tommy.  We were discharged and have another new experience under our belts.

Hello Doctor?  Let me go home!!

I am outta here!!

I learned that I am really good at telling people what to do, how to take their medicine, why they need to etc etc etc.  But I am really bad about taking my own advice.  I know he needs medicine, I know why, I know how, I just don't want to.  (I am, don't worry, I am, just doing it reluctantly)

My problem with all of this- is that it is just another LABEL.  Tommy had a cataract.  Tommy wears a contact.  Tommy wears a patch.  Tommy wears glasses.  Tommy has asthma.

I don't want Tommy to be defined by any of these labels.  I don't want people to think of him as "that asthmatic kid with glasses and the small eye".  I don't want people to make judgements that people make when they see my baby.  I guess this is a good learning experience for me, too.  Judging is easy and often makes you feel better about your own situation.  But judging is never good- and is rarely reflective of the whole picture.

THIS is Tommy.

Surprise Anxiety

It has been a while since I've been so... so anxious about "the eye" as I am right now.  I'm not even sure I understand fully what I'm feeling.

I've mentioned that we are currently having a war in our house.  Tommy versus The Patch.  He's become quite skilled at making sure that I cannot re-use any patch he gets his hands on, which means we are back to a 9-10 patch a day habit.  But that is Tommy.  That is normal.  That cannot be the source of my stress.

Contact vacation!

Tommy's contact is currently on back order.  I'm fairly convinced it is because they made an entire lot that wasn't really the correct size.  We were sent 3 contacts from Bausch and Lomb to replace the multiple contacts we lost in such a short period of time.  I finally broke into one- and it was ~3/4 the size of the contact he had in his eye (despite all the numbers on the bottle matching).  Only a seasoned iMom would notice that.  So I'm pretty sure they had to re-make and re-send quite a few!  We discovered this after losing the last contact that was correct.  Tommy has been on a contact vacation since Thursday.  Poor guy, we found it today (5 days later) on the floor of the garage.  Two disinfecting routine's later, I think it may still work.  Again, this is pretty normal stuff.

I think the big issue is that we see his eye doctor tomorrow.  I'm always a little nervous- but this seems like a big visit.  We've been told all along that he'd get glasses at 18 months.  I don't know if I'm ready.  It brings back all these strange feelings of remorse for him.  It hit me that he will wear these glasses... probably forever.  He will patch for the next 7 years, which will feel like forever.  It means the loss of some things- he'll never be a pilot (you need depth perception), he'll never be a baseball star (again, poor depth perception), his left eye will always be smaller... I don't know why this matters now, today, when nothing has changed.  He still is Tommy with a killer grin, an infectious laugh, and the cutest little face I could ever imagine.  While he has this "eye thing" he isn't any different than his friends in daycare in the things that matter.  But still I'm still in a state of unrest.  I'm hoping that it isn't a predictor of things to come.

Summer crazy

We have had quite a busy summer here- we packed a LOT in!  (I'm going to use that as my excuse for limited posts!)

May:  Eye appointment- no major news, no contact change, no glasses (Still!) and we spent as much time as we could outside (including a backyard campout!!)

I love it outside!

June:  School is out!  We had a dance recital (ok, Tommy's sisters did, but it affected him!), and the wedding of a family/friend

I rock a tux!

July:  Fourth of July, first haircut, vacation, and Cedar Point trip!

My first haircut!

I'm famous in Portland, Maine!

Northern Atlantic Ocean is COLD!

Ben and Jerry sure know how to make ice cream!

We ONLY use REAL maple syrup

August:  Real camp-out (a little nerve wracking with open fire and open water with a curious toddler!), more time outside, and trip to the Zoo (which was really in September, but I'm counting as end of summer)

I have to protect myself from the paparazzi (AKA mom)

Landscape project brings cool trucks!!

September:  Zoo trip and first day of school for sisters- and just another day for me.  Tommy was late to walk, but is apparently over-eager to hit the "terrible-twos" stage.  This is compounded by another round of 'Tommy vs Patch'.  He is also learning to take his contact out himself- a skill I wouldn't care if he never learned.

ROAR!

My sisters started new schools and mommy made signs, (note patch on backwards as he ripped it off 3 times by 7am)

As you can see- "The eye" hasn't taken over our lives.  (it takes over my thoughts a lot of the time still!)  Tommy is like any other typical 4th kid- dragged here, there, and everywhere!  He wears a contact, he wears a patch, but he's just another 18 month old who is spoiled rotten, naughty, sweet as sugar, and more fun than I every could have expected!