Happy Birthday Alden

Our little monkey turns one year old today! In retrospect, it seems like this year was the longest of my life (especially in the sleep department) and also the shortest (he used to fit into that tiny onsie!) Whoa.


An early gift were these three turtles whose shells are spheres that spin their sphere-feet when you roll them. Very fun and clever, even though Alden just takes the spheres off and sucks on them.

For some reason I believe it should be a tradition to get a haircut on your first birthday. In keeping with that traditon, we gave Alden a haircut. A dopey, pumpkin-headed, white-trashy haircut... I gave it my best shot, but it was really hard when he's so squirmy.

Alden with trailer-fresh hair and baby-sized cake he is too small to eat. And too pukey. He's got - gasp - another ear infection, accompanied by fever and GI troubles. Poor guy. It was much worse yesterday, but he had a mid-morning rally today. The fever is gone now and he was able to put down some banana and yogurt for dinner without retching afterwards.

Alden showing off some of his chompers.

Opening a present. It's just starting to dawn on him what this "present" thing is all about.

Alden playing with new cars. Alden has a love-hate relationship with toys that have wheels. He thinks they're really neat, but will break into tears when playing with them sometimes. We can't deduce a reason for this, he just sits there, pushing the toy frantically and crying. I think he may have mobility issues and is jealous of wheels.

Other awesome goodies Alden got for his B-day include the sharp sweater he is wearing in this picture and the chair he is sitting in that clamps to the table top. Very handy.

We had grand plans to throw a big party for him with his friends and family, but between his illness and the giant snowstorm that hit the East Coast the festivities were cancelled. Karen and Ben braved the blizzard to pay us a visit, but other than that, we spent the day hunkered down by the fire eating the chili intended for our visitors. Alden seemed to enjoy himself. Happy first, little man. We love you a whole bunch and hope you feel better soon.

Kerstin's Brain - Part III

Continued from Part II

Kerstin didn't remember much about the ambulance ride to Portland Medical Center. He was very tired and had to lay on the gurney during the trip, so he slipped in and out of sleep. Joseph travelled with me and they had a conversation, but Kerstin didn't recall it. In the meantime, Karen and I (Ilana) returned home to fetch Alden and relieve Ben. I nursed Alden and changed his diaper, then bundled him up and loaded him in Karen’s car. Alden was amused by all the activity and happy to be allowed to stay up so late past his bedtime. We arrived at Maine Medical in Portland around 10:30, just a few minutes after the ambulance delivered Kerstin to his room. My Dad met us in the parking lot and we all entered together. Ben delayed his trip to make us some dinner and then brought it down to us in the hospital.

Dad and I stood watch outside the room waiting for the doctor to arrive. In the meantime, Karen, Joseph, and Ben set up shop in a small waiting room outside the ward and took turns checking up on Kerstin, changing diapers/feeding the baby and scarfing down some dinner. Joseph introduced the "Elevator Game" to Alden, who was quite taken with it. This game involved riding up and down in the service elevator. I was grateful to have all this family around so that I could pass off Alden. I shudder to think of what I would have done without them. A baby adds a new layer of stress on top of the cortisol-soaked layer cake that is hospitalization of a loved one. I don't think I would have been able to focus on Kerstin's needs or function at all if it weren't for the fact that I knew that Alden was being cared for all this time.

At some point, while we were waiting for the doctor, Alden started making the milk sign. This was his first true signage and should have been cause for much jubilation, encouragement and reinforcement. I was too exhausted and scared to really respond properly to it and wasn't comfortable leaving Kerstin to feed Alden, so he got a jar of baby food with Joseph and Ben instead. Alden continued to do the milk sign intermittently for a week or so after the hospital incident, but has since stopped signing altogether. I think that because I didn't give him the proper reinforcement initially, I may have missed the sign language window of opportunity, which I really regret, but at the time, I just didn't know how to deal with everything happening all at once.

The doctor finally arrived sometime after 1 in the morning. My Dad and I met him in Kerstin's room. I recanted the whole tale to in as much gory detail as I could remember while the doctor performed some reflex tests on Kerstin and asked him a few questions. Kerstin was drifting in and out of sleep, but was lucid enough to answer a few questions and didn't struggle to find his words anymore. He'd also regained sensation in his arms and hands. Kerstin's doctor and my Dad brainstormed possible conditions, but none of them seemed satisfactory. The fact that Kerstin had lost sensation in both arms seemed to throw them, as did the fact that the entire episode lasted about 8 hours.

"Carotid dissection?"
"Not likely since both sides of his body went numb."
"Lyme disease?"
"He hasn't been bitten by a tick."
"How about Lupus?"
"No family history."

This exchange went on for about 10 minutes, but didn't lead to a satisfactory prognosis. Kerstin's doctor recommended that we wait for the results of the MRI. He felt that Kerstin's condition wasn't life threatening and recommended we run the MRI first thing in the morning when the technician normally arrives. We agreed that Kerstin seemed better (he was asymptomatic at this point) although he was extremely tired, so we left him alone to get some sleep and scheduled the MRI for the morning. We gathered in the waiting room around 1:30 AM to discuss our options. Should we stay in the hospital and sleep in the chairs? Not very easy to do with a baby who's already been up WAAAAY past his bedtime and who, while initially quite excited about this situation, was starting to get really cranky. Should we try to find a hotel? Might be hard to do at this hour. In the end, Joseph volunteered to stay behind with Kerstin and the rest of us drove home. My Dad followed us up to Gardiner and slept on our couch. We agreed to reconvene first thing in the morning and make plans to return to the hospital together for the impending MRI.

This is Kerstin's recollection of the evening:

When I arrived at Maine Medical Center in Portland, I was rolled into a room and more monitoring wires were attached to my chest, an air tube was put in my nose and an IV was put in my arm. I think the rest in the ambulance did me some good because I was feeling more lucid and able to talk with greater ease. A nurse and a doctor asked me some questions, which I think I answered correctly. They did not seem to think immediate action was needed and thought it best to let me get some sleep, my MRI would be the following morning. Scott, Ilana, Alden, Karen, and Ben came in to see me briefly before I drifted off. I don’t remember much of those conversations. Mostly general reassurances and good wishes.

Once I decided to sleep, most of the family decided to drive home. Joseph requested a cot at the side of my bed and spent the night at the hospital too. The doctor woke me up every two hours during the night to make sure my condition hadn’t declined. He would ask me a question like ‘what day is it’ (which I reckon is hard to answer when you just wake up whether your brain is failing or not) and test my reflexes. By morning I was not particularly rested, but more coherent and it seemed like my brain problem had lifted.

I was given a hospital breakfast which I shared with Joseph, and just hung out until they were able to schedule my MRI. The MRI started around 10:30 when I was wheeled to the radiology room in the basement. I was told the MRI machine was going to be loud, but anyone who has worked on a construction site would disagree with that description. I was worried about becoming claustrophobic in the MRI tube, but the tube was well lit and nicely ventilated, which made it a positive difference. The scans took about an hour and a half to do, and being still for that long was tricky, but not too difficult.

Ilana's Recollection:

We made it back to the Hospital shortly after Kerstin returned from his MRI. He seemed in good spirits and was back to himself, although he was still pretty sleepy. While we were waiting for the test results, Kerstin's bedside phone rang. It was Ashley, the ER nurse from Augusta. She had tracked Kerstin down and was calling to see how he was doing. She's such a sweetheart!!

We all waited for a few more hours for the results, passing the time playing the elevator game and pass the baby. Eventually a very friendly, grandfatherly Neurologist came in, said everything looked tip top and told us to go home and enjoy the holidays. It took another hour for the paper work to clear so the nurses could unhook Kerstin, but we finally made it out of there before the clock struck noon. My Dad left for home about a half an hour before Kerstin was cleared to go and before we realized that he still had Alden's car seat base in his car. After a few minutes of panic, we made a short detour across town to Babies-R-Us to get a new forward-facing seat, since he was almost due for an upgrade anyway. Kerstin dozed while we made our way North to Gardiner with Alden in the backseat, watching the world whizzing by his window for the very first time.

Kerstin's Brain - Part II

This is the second part of the saga of Kerstin's Brain. Go here to read part one.

Once I was past the waiting room I was taken into the ER. I could tell I was having trouble, but I couldn’t tell how bad it was. I wasn’t sure what kind of shape I was in to evaluate myself. My hands and arms were still numb when they brought me into a large room and set me down on the bed. Things get a bit fuzzy after that, so Ilana will give the details.

This is Ilana’s recollection: Kerstin walked into the ER with me and the attending nurse and she set him down on the bed. While he removed his clothes, a male nurse came in with a dry razor, shaved off a patch of his chest hair and attached several electrodes to his chest. Another nurse came in, introduced herself as Ashley and put in an IV. Kerstin was struggling to talk at this point. He could get most of the right words out, but he was very slow and deliberate, and would clench his jaw with every syllable. He seemed very disoriented, and seemed to have a hard time understanding what we were saying to him.

The ER doctor came in a few minutes later after Kerstin's vitals were taken and asked Kerstin to describe his symptoms. Kerstin was disoriented, numb from the shoulders down and sick to his stomach. He made a few attempts to describe what was happening, but ended up saying things like “I’m having dif-…. I’m hav-ing…fuck!... I’m having diff…iculty… to speech….” He’d clench his jaw when he’d get hung up on the word, as if physically straining to find it in his brain. I noticed that while he had a big problem finding words to complete his sentences, cursing was surprisingly effortless.

The doctor ordered a CAT scan and I had to stay behind. He and Ashley wheeled Kerstin down the hall and I was left alone and trembling in the ER room. I called Joseph, who was watching Alden and told him what had happened. Then I called Karen, who asked if she should come to the hospital or be with Joseph and Alden. I opted to have her stay with Alden, since he’s most comfortable with her, and since I didn’t really know how long we'd be staying at the hospital. An administrator came in at some point during this lonely and scary time to ask me to fill out paperwork for insurance and billing purposes. I understand that this sort of thing needs to be done, but I was really irritated with this woman for being so goddamned insensitive. I was alone in the room after that and I passed the time by pacing and reading cabinet labels.

It took 23 minutes for Kerstin to return. They re-situated him in the corner and Ashley asked him if he remembered her name. He did (which was more that I could say!) and we were both very impressed. Kerstin then asked me to verify text on posters and cabinets in the room. I think he was trying to regain his vision and trying to keep his brain active. Ashley told me that on the way to the CAT scan, Kerstin counted from one to ten over and over again, with varying degrees of success. We waited in the ER room for a while – I can’t remember how long exactly, with both of Kerstin’s arms and hands alternately going numb and regaining feeling. He complained that he felt nauseated and exhausted, but was afraid to sleep. Ashley wanted to give Kerstin an anti-nausea medication intravenously, but Kerstin refused. After she left, he told me he thought he had food poisoning (?!) and that if he could only throw up, this would all go away. I figured he was delusional, but was happy that at least he was talking.

The doctor returned and announced that the CAT scan was negative. I breathed a huge sigh of relief at this news. The doctor then said that he might still be having a stroke or a tumor that couldn't be detected by the CAT scan, heralding in a fresh wave of panic. The doctor seemed surprisingly detached, puzzled and non communicative. He also seemed to be at a loss for what to do next. He finally announced that Kerstin probably needed an MRI, but that he’d have to be transferred to Portland (an hour away) to get it. He left to “start the paperwork”, which was ultimately completed a mere 3 hours later.

I don't know why it took so long or if Kerstin was running out of time for treatment, so these 3 hours were absolute agony. During this time, I called my Dad (who, conveniently enough, is an ER physician!) and asked him to talk to this doctor, in the hopes that he could speed things up. I think my Dad convinced him to go through with the MRI that night. Dad also decided to come up to help us with the diagnosis, and we agreed that we’d meet him down at the Portland hospital. Karen and Joseph were pretty frantic to see Kerstin by this point too, so they left Alden with Ben at home and met us in the ER. We were all there for maybe an hour or two, trying to make sense of everything. Joseph spent most of the time talking to Kerstin, while I brooded in the corner of the room trying to figure out what the hell was taking so long. Karen was the squeaky wheel and hovered just outside our room so as to pounce on the nurse, doctor, or anyone else who happened to walk by for an update. It seemed to take forever to get Kerstin out of that ER.

(Note from Kerstin - I remember some of what Ilana describes. I don't recall time length at all and wouldn't know how long I was in the Augusta hospital if asked. I remember not wanting to go to sleep or allow myself to slip up and not correct myself when I was speaking. I felt I had to fight to keep my mental state and I worried what would happen if dozed, which is why I counted and read the wall text. I was also worried about the nausea medicine more as a strangers-offering-unknown-pharmaceuticals than anything else, and had reservations about taking drugs while my head was being screwy. I was more fascinated than scared at my condition and thought the best thing to do was to talk about what was happening to me at the time in case some bad brain-mojo happened and I would be unable to talk in the future. )



Kerstin started to feel more sick to his stomach and really looked bad. He was still struggling to finish his sentences. Ashley gave another impassioned pitch about why he should take the anti-nausea medication – mainly to prevent his brain from jarring even more when he retched. I think he finally started to realize that this wasn’t food poisoning at some point and agreed to the medication. Ashley’s shift ended before she could administer the drug and her replacement, Ingrid, actually did the deed. Ingrid was much less sympathetic than Ashley. She seemed defensive when we questioned her about what was going on and irritated when we asked for updates. She made flippant comments about how this was probably just a small seizure because that’s what happened to a friend of hers and told us not to worry. These kinds of comments really riled Karen and me, mostly because we had very little information and the doctors still hadn’t ruled out something really awful (like a stroke too early to detect via CAT scan or AVM) and just who was this nurse to breeze in and casually diagnose Kerstin anyway?

Kerstin threw up right after he was given the anti-nausea medication. At first, it was just a little spit up (and I know a thing or two about spit up vs. vomit, thanks to Alden.) He really lost his lunch just before he was loaded on the ambulance and transferred to Portland. This was about 9 PM – 5 hours after his symptoms started. Joseph opted to go with Kerstin in the ambulance. He reported that the trip was largely uneventful, with Kerstin still fighting sleep, but managing to doze lightly for a while. He woke close to the hospital and they had an interesting exchange. Joseph described it as “confused and incomprehensible, but pleasant.”

Karen and I returned home to fetch Alden and relieve Ben. I nursed Alden and changed his diaper, then bundled him up and loaded him in Karen’s car. Alden was pleasantly amused by all the activity and happy to be allowed to stay up so late past his bedtime. We arrived at Maine Medical Center in Portland around 10:30, just a few minutes after the ambulance delivered Kerstin to his room. My Dad met us in the parking lot and we all entered together. Ben delayed his trip to make us some dinner and then brought it down to us in the hospital.

To be continued on Kerstin's Brain - Part III....

Kerstin's Brain - Part I

With the holidays now behind me and the New Year in front, I have a bit of time to reflect on the past week. On the 27th of December I began to experience some mental problems that lasted until the 28th. The problems were severe enough to get me hospitalized and unique enough that they remain undiagnosed. The symptoms were similar to a stroke or a psychotic break with a loss of language skills, vision, and hearing. Accompanying these were numbness, nausea, and loss of fine motor control. It is still undiagnosed, so if anyone has any idea please leave a comment.

At 4 PM on December 27th Ilana and I were shopping for a dishwasher. We were discussing various models with the sales representative in the store when I felt a warm sensation and springiness in my legs followed by a pins and needles sensation. The feeling rose into my belly and torso. It took about a minute for the pins and needles sensation to get to my torso and by that time, I took Ilana aside and told her I thought we should leave. We excused ourselves and as we left the store the prickly feeling rose into my head.

When we got to the truck in the parking lot, the feeling had passed. We debated whether to go home or to the hospital. While we discussed what to do next, another wave or pins and needles came over me, along with numbness in my hands. We decided to go to the ER in Augusta, which was luckily only a 5 minute drive away.

On the way to the ER it became more difficult to use my hands. I had trouble adjusting the thermostat controller in the truck and at the check-in desk at the ER, I struggled to get my ID out of my wallet from my back pocket. I was able to sign in to the hospital, but Ilana needed to fill out the forms for me. We were asked to take a seat in the waiting area. I remember a pissed-off kid with a bloody head who had some kind of winter sporting accident and an older lady in a wheelchair hooked up to an oxygen bottle ahead of me.

I don’t remember what was showing on the TV in the waiting room, but I was commenting on some aspect of the show and how it related to larger media theory and how that related to various social trends and patterns (the basic TV programming is rubbish and it is everywhere conversation). I began to notice I was having greater and greater difficulty speaking. It started with a fumbled word or two, and then advanced to an incorrect word said in place of the one I intended to say, then I was suddenly unable to say the words I wanted to.

I didn’t realize I was speaking gibberish immediately. The words I wanted to say were lined up in my brain and were correct, only after uttering them did I realize that something was wrong. The ear is a very poor evaluator of word appropriateness when the brain thinks everything is okay, so there was a conflict between the two. Another disconnect was with my brain and my mouth. I could tell my mouth was not making the correct shapes for the words I wanted to say when they were wrong. However, It wouldn’t be until after I said something, listened to what I said, felt it in my mouth, and then re-thought about the sentence that I could tell if the words that were spoken were the correct ones. If the words were not correct, I wouldn’t be sure exactly what I’d said because I was so preoccupied listening to what I was saying that I couldn’t remember what I’d intended to say. This is how things were for me for most of that night in the hospital.

The 'switch was flipped' in the waiting room when I was talking with Ilana. Selecting words became a little difficult and when I said something that didn’t seem like what I wanted to say, I tried to correct it. I then noticed Ilana had a very worried look on her face. She went to get a nurse. I grabbed a pen and paper thinking if I was unable to talk properly, perhaps I could write coherently. The note I wrote Ilana was not much better than my speech. My numb hands made writing problematic and I started to have trouble with my vision (things would go in and out of focus, making most objects in the room look smeared), and I couldn’t pin down the words I wanted to write.

(This is Ilana’s perspective at this time: Kerstin was talking coherently in the waiting room for the most part, when suddenly he started spouting random words in mid-sentence. Words like “fish” and “tank” were repeated a few times, but I don’t remember exactly what he else said. I panicked and rushed over to the attending nurse at the desk, where I sputtered between sobs “He just started spouting gibberish. I think he’s having a stroke.” She quickly whisked us into an isolated holding room, probably because I was visibly shaken at this point. I suspect she didn’t want my freak-out moment to disturb the other patients. This is where Kerstin wrote his infamous note. I was crying a lot and Kerstin tried to comfort me with it.)

I wrote the following words on the back of a STAT Registration Request form:
“Its kind of kind of body oot of body-ish I wish I had better penpenship This”

The note explained:
I could tell my penmanship in the note was lacking when I wrote it, but at the time I did not know the words I wrote were doubled up and were not the words I intended to write. I believe I wanted to write “This is kind of like a mind out of body experience.” since I was feeling numb and did realize my state of consciousness was abnormal. I think now I was flummoxed by the words “kind, like, mind” being so close together and that’s where the note went wrong.

It's taking some time to recollect this all, but I will try and get the rest of the Augusta Hospital adventure written soon. See Part II to read what happened after we entered the ER.

Kerstin is better

Just a quick note to let everyone know I'm feeling better and will write about my ordeal when I get the chance. Docs still don't know why my brain went screwy for ten hours on the 27th, but they have done some tests (MRI, CAT Scan, blood, heart, EEG) and everything looks tip-top... or at least nothing is readily apparent like a tumor or a malevolent gremlin. The 'spell' passed in the night and was isolated to that one episode. Since I got out of the hospital people have shared with me stories about friends and family who have had similar experiences (screwy-brain for 1 to 10 hours) so it may be more common than I realize.

Update

Sorry it's taken so long to update the blog, but we've had some extenuating circumstances. The major setback being that Kerstin has been in the hospital for the past few days. Something is very wrong with his brain, but the doctors have not yet been able to diagnose the problem. They have ruled out a stroke and MS and we are extremely grateful for that. He was released from the hospital on Sunday. He is doing much better today and seems to be back to normal, but will be back in the hospital today and tomorrow for more testing. The second problem is that something is wrong with our desktop computer. The fan doesn't turn off and it's keeping the hard drive from booting up. So, between those issues and the holidays, we have not been blogging. I have oodles of milestones, videos and pictures to share, but we'll have to wait until we can fix our issues at home. In the meantime, I'll try to keep everyone updated as best I can from work... so I hope Willie and Susie aren't reading this!

Ben Pics

Since these pictures appear to be a hit, here are some more shots of Ben abusing the neighbor's dog.

Comet's such a glutton for punishment.

Ice storm

As well as being dangerous and inconvenient, ice storms are very beautiful when the sun shines. The ice around tree branches reflects light and makes things look as though they are made of glace.

The Northeast has completely iced over! The freezing rain started Thursday, but it didn't get bad until late Thursday night. By Friday, there were power lines down all over the state. Route 27, the only road into Boothbay Harbor, was closed for the day, so I had my first official snow day. The State government also closed all offices, so Kerstin was home as well. We hunkered down and listed to branches falling outside. We lost power for a few hours on Friday, but we had a nice fire going and all was cozy. The only real inconvenience was the loss of power to lab servers and possibly, loss of power to our incubators, which may mean that our cultures are all dead. Willie was able to get the incubator going again on Friday afternoon, but we don't know if the cultures will recover. I shudder to think of that possibility.

Icy pumpkin vines on our "woodchuck-proof" fence.

The rain/sleet stopped around 3 on Friday afternoon and Ben answered the call of the shovel. It was no easy feat to clear the driveway, seeing as it was half slush and half ice. Our neighbor Claire was clearing her driveway too and her dog Comet came out to see what all the commotion was about. He was excited to see that Ben was back. Comet is the friendliest, sweetest dog on the planet and lives to chase stuff. Icy, gritty, nasty hard snow is no exception. This dog tried to eat every shovelful.

December Blahs

Most of the clan is sick this week. Poor little fella has a head cold, so no one is sleeping much these days. Not that we get much sleep on a normal night, but having a sick baby reminds you just how much worse it can actually get. He's been very congested and can't breathe well at night. He's also snotting up a storm and smearing all over my shirt/blowing it into my face/rubbing it into the carpet, so despite almost OCD-like hand washing, I've managed to contract his foul little bug as well. One last note about being sick and then I'm moving on - Every time I've written an entry on this subject, I get some anonymous comment from a lurker who thinks he/she's going to make bank by enlightening me about a fabulous product that will cure whatever ails me and/or my child. I've got two words - Piss Off. Seriously, you people are like buzzards. I can't imagine this tactic ever actually works.

It's been snowing on and off this week, which makes everything around here quiet, except for the occasional clanking from a plow truck. Ben returned from Maryland and is staying with us for a while. He hadn't been here 24 hours before I suckered him into babysitting for an hour so I could finally get a hair cut. I have now entered the "sensible hair" era of my life (moving away from the "neglected hair" era that marked my youth). The look is very practical, very middle-aged-woman-with-a-kid. It's slightly depressing, but I guess that's who I am now. I saved my ponytail and will be donating it to a non-profit group that makes wigs for the American Cancer Society. I couldn't resist the opportunity to have a little fun before mailing it. Doesn't Ben look awesome with a mullet?

More Crawling

Alden is developing nicely. He has stopped spitting up and I suspect it was because we were overfeeding him. At his check-up on the 3rd he weighed 19lbs, so he is close to being on track for the big two-oh on his first birthday. Alden's learned how to decline food by shaking his head and raising his hand to push away the spoon when full. He cannot feed himself yet, but he has figured out how to feed others (me). He will put veggie bits or sweet-potato-flavored puffed rice in my mouth but not his own. I am tickled by this but find it a little backwards.

Besides the modification on crawling style Alden is about to get his fourth tooth and is officially a creeper (able to pull himself up on things and walk by holding onto a sofa or bookshelf support. It's not problematic yet because he's still perfecting it and is slow, but he is enamored with our wood stove, so I foresee some safety stove thingy in the near future.

It snowed again and has been cold, and it looks like Uncle Ben will be paying us a visit again soon.