Genetics you don’t thank your ancestors for

Looks like it’s going to be surgery for this girl. If we get this fixed now, she can avoid more damage and possible kidney failure later.

The reflux test is really awful. Zenny endured it while we bent over her and coached her breathing, but it was hard to see her so scared.

Her doctor gave her a stuffed toy based on the real support dog that roams around the hospital, and she hasn’t put it down yet.

She’s so little. I love her so much, and it’s rough seeing her go through this. She’ll be okay, though. 

Edited to add background, in case other parents find themselves with similar situations: 

When she was in kindergarten she complained of intermittent side pain, so we brought it up with her pediatrician. There were no other symptoms to go on and it only seemed to be after school, so we thought it might be digestive. We took school chocolate milk out of her diet and it seemed to help.

Later that year she had a UTI and her doctor explained the reflux test, but it’s a traumatic procedure for a little kid and most kids grow out of bladder valve problems by the time they’re 6 anyway, so he didn’t want to jump to that.

Her recent kidney infection prompted her doctor to refer us to the pediatric urology department at the children’s hospital. Ultrasound showed scarring on her kidney that appeared to be from more than just the recent infection, so the reflux test was necessary. 

Reflux test showed that her valves are not working at all, they’re backflowing all the way up to her kidneys, and she won’t grow out of it, thanks to a genetic defect my grandmother had. 

There are two surgery options; one is an out-patient quick fix with a lower success rate and no longevity studies, the other is a two-day stay in the hospital with a 98% success rate. I don’t want her kidneys failing her in pregnancy or when she’s 60, so we’re looking at the better quality fix.

I’m feeling heaps of mom-guilt that we didn’t catch this before she had damage to her kidney, but we have been bringing everything up with her doctor since the beginning, so I don’t know what else I could have done. At least in today’s medical world she can have it fixed instead of suffering with it all her life like my grandmother did.

Poor kid.

a week of bad news

One of my “we’ve known each other since livejournal” friends killed herself on Wednesday. I'm kind of mad at her right now. Feeling guilt that I didn't meet up with her in Portland a few years ago. She was so beautiful and chaotic and self-destructive, and I just wanted to paint and eat sandwiches. Anjika, you should have stuck around and taken up a dangerous hobby or something, goddamn it.

Zenny flunked her kidney ultrasound and the next diagnostic test is uncomfortably invasive. I’m taking off on Tuesday to bring her to the children’s hospital. She understands in a general way what is going to happen, and she's trying to be brave about it, but she’s only 8. I hate this. She has been promised a horseback ride when she’s feeling better, because she should have a big good thing to eclipse the bad thing in her childhood memories.

And then there was the text saying a friend is dealing with cancer.

It has been a good week for sitting alone at a door, at least.

Here's a double hibiscus and the scary bee man someone propped up near the honey stand.

photo by Leif 

We keep expecting it to turn its head as we drive by.

Snakes and mittens

My days have shrunk to a pair of library doors again, with my boss popping his head around the corner periodically to make sure I’m not doing anything interesting. I’ve had one earbud in, absorbing an unhealthy amount of murder podcasts between patrons. So far nobody has hit me, but I fell asleep with my face flat on my desk during lunch, which seems to be my response to stress this past year - the hamster defense.

Working on some book cover illustrations.

Made a miscalculation with my needle size and the mittens turned out kid-sized again. Zenny says they’re great, except for the skulls.

Deathflake mittens

A couple days ago, one of our patrons asked if the staff liked star fruit, and I was dumb enough to say yes, so she showed up with about 10lbs of fruit that my coworkers wouldn’t eat. I could only get half of them into my jelly pot (the fruit, not my coworkers), and now there is a big box of leftover star fruit sitting in the middle of the dining room floor.

Help

I have some vague memory of star fruit being a little bit poisonous, but I am not going to look it up because I have to eat about a hundred of them. We will assume that boiling star fruit into jelly neutralizes the toxins.

Edited to add: and of course I looked it up. These little kidney murderers are going out by the mailbox with a FREE sign propped next to them.

I’m keeping the jelly, though. 

Back a step

Starting Monday, I’m back at the library’s front door. The governor has mandated vaccination cards or negative test results along with a photo ID in order to enter businesses and state offices for everyone over the age of 12. I am trying to be a good sport, but I am not a bouncer, and last year when they stuck me at the door for 6 months I was just about to lose my damn mind.

But until I figure out another way to pay the mortgage and feed my kids, I will stand there and work out friendly phrases and jokes to make the process easier and to stop people from punching me in the face. I talked someone down from a mask meltdown yesterday by making a joke about bras. I am either going to get promoted or fired at this rate. At least my nose will be on straight.

Feeling stressed. Painting another lucky cat.

broken glass and art collecting

Everyone has recovered. The only casualty of the week was our front door, which Zenny shattered while chasing Leif through the house. And then the cats escaped out the hole in the door. Billy got himself completely covered in sticker weeds and hid under a lawn chair, and Droopy chased the chickens four times around the house before we got them back inside and latched the screen door.

don't worry, the cats made a run for it after the glass was removed - we’re not trying to reenact the final scene of Ghost over here

So the kids get to learn about repairing doors and herding cats this week. Logical consequences.

Bought a painting, using the money I would have spent on a painting workshop. This guy is a 20-something artist I’m friendly with on Instagram, and I wanted to support him in his first show because he’s kind and talented. And I just really like the painting.

 

“The Rise” by Paul Bhajjan (@p.bhajjan)

Finished another lucky cat, drew the next one (this is going to be a set of 5).

Getting a little tired of painting ceramic cats.

Pottery has been painful. A few crumbs of hard clay got into the soft clay, and at high speed they turned into tiny razor sharp shards that ended up embedded in the meat of my hands. I made a couple nice mugs anyway, so it was worth a bit of tweezering. I’m going to paint something with sharp teeth onto the finished cups, because they bit me.

Still feeling kind of sad, and worn out with being a cheerful front-desk public service employee while everyone is crabby and mean. At least it's pie-baking season again.