Pickles & Watermelon: the perfect combo?

Last night I was eating my dinner at work when I realized that I had just eaten a pickle, then watermelon, then another pickle. It they both tasted delicious. Weird pregnancy eater, no?

FYI I only had pickles at work because I stopped the the grocery store in the way to work and as I abide by my Gramma K's law that Klaussen's pickles are the only acceptable pickles because they are kept in the refridgerator section I had to bring them into work to keep them cold. Hence pickles and watermelon.

Today I am 10 weeks and 4 days. My pants are tight, but I haven't gained a pound. I still have weird food aversions and follow the "smell it first" rule to see if I can eat something. But to date have not vomited. Halleluyah. I still have an amazing nose. I caught a patient smoking in their room the other day due to my super smeller. Of course they denied it but to me they smelled like an old lady who had spent the day at the casino.

Daddy turns 60!

When Mom said to Dad "Let's have a big party for your 60th!" He shot her down immediately, only to come back two days later with "I want a two day party with all the foods my mom would have had for a birthday party." We spent this weekend celebrating with 4+ types of hotdogs and sausages, mac&cheese, potato salad, and cupcakes made from a mix (the horror! Daddy insisted) with whip cream shot inside them just like his mom had done (honestly they were delicious). IIt was a piece of upstate NY heaven. The only old guy joke was an "old person crossing" sign with a graphic of an old man all hunched over crossing the street.  As he will never act his age he can handle a few old guy jokes!

And now everyone (even Daddy's golf buddies) know I'm pregnant. At least it didn't get out til the 10 week mark. There was lots of belly rubbing, Mom out rubbed them all. Example "This is Becca our eldest, she's a nurse and pregnant with out first grandchild *rub rub*" Then insert me telling them the condensed version of my life story. I have not talked about myself that much since my doctor's physical exam!

 Happy 60th Daddy!

I love my job

A few days ago I had one of those "I love my job" kind of days. These don't happen that often, although weekly there are moments that stick out. Normally a day loving my job involves adoring my patients and them adoring me. Doesn't matter if they are needy, just that we have some type of a caregiver-patient connection.

The day did not start off the greatest but when directly up hill. I walked into my first patient's room to be greated by "you are a terrible person." Excuse me?! This tiny 80 year old women starts into this tirade about how we are keeping her against her will and she has not eaten in two days. Well, I know last night she was hallucinating because of her UTI and that she might have bipolar, but this does not seem to fit. So I ask her to explain and I consult with our nursing assistant who would know if she had eaten. And it turns out she was supposed to get this test that you are not allowed to eat before, but for some reason she didn't get test and therefore no one thought to get her food. She hadn't eaten for about 20 hours, enough to make anyone (especially me) very very cranky. We order here a late lunch STAT (I had no idea we could do this) and her meal showed up in 5 minutes flat. After this we were best friends. She even wanted to send me a Christmas card!

The day just got better from here when I met my 94 year old patient. He looked like the skinny version of the old man in the movie "Up" complete with big bushy eyebrows. He was what I call a "young 94" which means he functions better than most 80 years olds. \He had even put up a new fence this summer! He had come in with heart attack like symptoms and was getting the 1-2 day cardiac workup. His only complaint was "the soap opera on in the next room." He was sharing a room and the family next door was carrying on just like a soap opera. "Well Sir we don't want you to have chest pain again so I will just get you a new room." We were lucky the unit was half empty, and off he went to a different bed. This got me lots of hand holding and cheek kisses. The one bump in the road was getting a call from his son asking about his dad's condition. Turns out Mr Adorable had gotten a little confused about his diagnosis somewhere along the line and had convinced himself that the leaky valves (regurgitation) that was happening to a mild degree in his heart was a leaky valve in his brain that was slowly killing him. We had a long talk and I wrote down in plain English the results of his tests, explainging that the regurgitation with his heart valves was mild and many people live at this level their entire adult lives. My most awesome nurse status was topped off by bringing him a cup of icecream and finding him a National Geographic as the poor guy had been sitting in bed for like 36 hours with one newspaper and was bored out of his mind. There was a lot more hand holding and a little "if I was 65 years younger...." before I took off for the night. When you have such a great rapport with 2/3 patients it doesn't matter if the 3rd is difficult and needy


Sometimes I wonder why I'm not in geriatrics because I love my oldest patients the most. But then I realize that most of the geriatrics I would see are not this healthy and have long long lists of problems. I don't think I have the patience to deal with it yet. I love seeing mostly healthy old people. They remind me of my amazing Grampy who is 92 years old and still incredibly active. While we aren't sure if he will still run races he is sharp as a tack (too much so in the math area, I immediately get lost) and reads voraciously (books I read as well!). His only weakness is fresh ground peanut butter. I think that the best way to be a young old person is to do what you love for as long as you physically can and to kee your mind sharp be reading and discussing. You'd be surprised how young it keeps you!

Still flat for the time being

Noel took this picture a few weeks ago and I think it should be noted that there is not much room for our little frijolito to grow, thus I should start having that chubby tummy feeling shortly. Actually it started last night. We'd been out all day in the 1 month of glorious summer that Seattle offers. But to go see a late movie I needed to put on pants instead of the sundress. And they were distinctly tight in the lower belly region. I guess I should start investing in super low rise jeans now! I am embarassed to admit I actually unbuttoned them for comfort during the movie.

Panchito's first picture

Officially dated: 7 weeks 6 days

I thought all ultrasound pictures were extra exciting with all the new technology. But all I can see is a little blurry bean (yes that little thing on the left in the mini amniotic fluid pool), heart rate about 160. I expect that Panchito's future photo sessions will be more exciting. So today, on my 28th birthday I am 8 weeks along and really really tired. The size of a mini bean and taking all my energy. To help with the lack of energy I now take iron twice a day, drink chocolate milk with molasses and apple juice with wheat germ (both surprisingly delicious).

Selfish placenta

I just talked to my midwife. Turns out despite my best red bean eating habits and taking those terrible ferrous sulfate pills everyday I only managed to get my hematocrit to 34 (and I ate a hamburger 2 hours before the blood draw!). Normal hematocrit for a regular women who does not have to share her blood supply with a selfish placenta would be 36-44. And with little me at 34 all this selfishness means mine will keep dropping (and it's never been higher than 35 to begin with, damn anemia).

At the hospital we don't give blood transfusions unless your hematocrit is 21 (whopping difference from 21). For those who don't know hematocrit is the portion of blood that is made up of red blood cells.  Its counterpart hemoglobin is what carries oxygen around the your blood. It one is down the other is to. Vitamin C helps increase their absorption from foods (meat or veggies). In pregnancy blood volume increases by 50% and the body needs alot of hemoglobin and hemotocrit to make all the new blood.  At the hospital we call them H&H. But for my patients are in the hospital, recovering from surgery, with bags of blood readily available. They are not growing babies.

So off I go to now take TWO iron pills a day (with calcium to increase absorption), invest in black strap molasses (supposedly the best bang for your buck iron-wise), and edamame (the highest iron of all veggies I can find). Wish my already slow intestines good luck :(  I say selfish placenta because it is still so much bigger than Panchito.

Moley Me

Almost a month ago now I got a 3 moles biopsied (90% removed). As I am the product of a moley man who tans well and a red head with freckles I somehow ended up in the middle with lots of teensy moles. To be precise there were 28 on my stomach, now down to 25. I had around 17 of them before we wen to Hawaii a few years ago and they multiplied after a burn. My skin doc said I should get 6 biopsied, but luckily since the first 3 were normal the other 25 are safe for now!

For anyone who has ever had this done, you can surely sympathize with the lack of pain during the mini procedure, and the ridiculously long healing time. I'd describe it as a semi constant throbbing pain for 2 weeks followed by a week of itchiness. I took out my own stiches (as doing it at work seemed unsanitary) which really diminished the itch factor.

Turns out the difference in the amount of skin removed between a biopsy and a removal isn't much. From what I can tell 99% of my biopsied moles are gone. The skin doc said with removal they take off all the extra round the edges. Lucky for me I can keep that 1%, which is pretty much hidden by the ridiculous scar (photos forthcoming). Really with how far surgeries have come these days something simple like this should not leave such a gigantic scar.

Pancho

The nickname has stuck. I am a little ashamed. But at least the only "Panchos" that I know of were great revolutionaries. Maybe it's a good luck pre birth nickname. It does sound better than "my little alien."

The food aversions have begun (dun dun dun)

If I had to eat one food for the rest of my life I have always said it would be salad, especially seeing as how salad comes with endless possibilities of toppings. If I said that today I would starve. For the last 6+ months I have eaten a gigantic organic fancy greens salad with a ridiculous amount of veggies in it. But now the greens make me gag, they are suddenly very acidic and I cannot swallow a forkful. Yesterday I ate half a bag of carrots and some romaine without hating life. At least I'm getting in some vitamin C! Just to clarify I have not actually thrown up, but the idea or more often smell of some foods really turns me off. and now in the a.m. I can't eat my red beans, somehow they are okay in the evening but not in the morning. I think I need more vitamin supplements, now to work up the energy to go buy them...

As for cravings, my little grape sized fetus really likes carrots, toast, milk, bananas, tamales and veggie soup. How much milk does one have to drink to gain 25lbs? I might be able to do it with a few tamales a day! I had my first appointment with the midwife the other day, she said "Since you are underweight we would hope you would gain 30-35 lbs." To which I broke into hysterical laughter. First off I'm not underweight for a normal person, just for a pregnant lady. My BMI is 19 something and I'd have to lose 7 lbs minimum to be underweight for my height, which wouild leave the pancake bottomed girl with nothing to sit on, so I think not to any weight loss. 

Speaking of weight, I bought a scale the other day. To which I must point out I have never owned a scale, we never had one in the house growing up and I have generally never desired to buy one. It's yet another thing to move for this frequent mover. Upon trying them out in Target I weighed 160, 112, 127. I went with the latter scale as I'm about 124 unclothed. Scales are weird, they get you fixated on what you look like, they could lead to eating disorders, and they can definately be off if even the basic kilter of your house' foundation isn't perfect.