Dressing change day!

Wednesday is dressing change day.  Pam, my home care nurse comes every Wednesday to change my PICC dressing.  It is a recurring event on my google calendar.  Gosh, I lead an exciting life.    

My arm starting to heal
(February). 

I first met Pam when she came to set up my zofran pump.  I mentioned this before but she said if all goes well we wouldn't ever see each other again.  Well she was back twice to start peripheral IV's within the next week.  Once I got my PICC line, I knew we'd have a weekly date until it came out.  When I ran into problems with my PICC line (long story short my arm blistered and ozzed under the dressings, generally my skin was mad), Pam was here every day or every other day for over a month.  She works in Waukesha and lives is Dousman and even on the snowiest of days she came in her tiny car to take care of my PICC line.  I am confident that my PICC line is still in and working today because of Pam.  Now even this week I had an issue with some blistering and Pam came out on Monday to check it out.  She of course came again today to ensure things were good.  The PICC has been in for 4 1/2 months and it needs to last 2 more so we are being very careful.  Pam also has a helper depending on the time she comes as Fiona now enjoys standing guard and watching the dressing changes.  She will also bring flushes and alcohol wipes in case Pam needs a few extra. 

Along with the dressing changes Pam takes my vitals and I get to answer the fun questions of how many times did you vomit, how many hours were you nauseated, how bad was the nausea, stuff like that.  I like Pam and appreciate her understanding and compassion.  The best part of her visits is when we listen to baby's heart beat which is reassuring.  It always puts a smile on my face. 

Keeping it in perspective

I have said I am a lucky woman.  I truly believe that.  This experience while not easy is self limiting.  It has been a learning experience and I hope to come out of this a better person.  I am grateful to be surrounded by outstanding support.  There is nothing like a funeral to help me remember all of this.  Yesterday I attended the funeral of a dear friend's father.  It just reminds me how I need to cherish every minute and not wallow in what is not going well.  Don't get me wrong, I still think this vomiting business sucks.  But it just brought to the forefront that this will be over in 10 weeks (I'm personally shooting for 8) and I will end this ordeal with the most precious gift I could ask for.  How many people can say that being sick ends with something so wonderful?  This is the last time I will get to experience being 30 weeks pregnant, so I intend to make the most of it and enjoy what I can.  Those outstanding little kicks, rolls and seemingly dances of joy almost always put a smile on my face (occasionally they lead to vomiting, then I don't smile too much). 

I also want to share that I have been taking the Vitamin B6 since Thursday night.  I have not noticed much if any difference at this point.  The vomiting continues more often than I'd like.  On Friday a couple people told me that I looked a little better.  So its either good for my skin or they are just lying to me!  I will keep up with the B6 and give it a bit more time before I render a verdict. 

A rough patch

In a previous post I mentioned how I had hit a plateau with how I had been feeling.  I would sporadically vomit and even have those glorious days when I didn't at all.  Overall I was getting used to our new normal and getting through daily life.  The past couple weeks things have gotten a bit worse.  The vomiting has increased to about 5-6 times a day and I generally feel like I am exhausted and simply running on empty (essentially a constant state of the flu).  I haven't done anything differently so of course this comes with a good deal of frustration.  At this point my doctor is unsure what to do so she referred me to a specialist. 

This morning I saw a perinatologist (an obstetrician mainly used for patients with high-risk pregnancies).  First I had an ultrasound done as they wanted to ensure the baby is growing appropriately.  Best news of the day is that the baby is great!  Growing like a weed and moving like a crazy person.  S/he is actually on the big side....83rd percentile.  Who would have thought, hey?  So Dr. Worthington (the perinatologist) didn't have too much new insight to add to my current situation but was pleased the baby was doing well.  His only new thought was to add some additional Vitamin B6 to my IV fluids to see if that would help with the vomiting.  The B6 arrived late this afternoon so I will add it to my bag tonight and say a prayer it helps a bit. 

In the mean time I am attempting to come to grips with the fact that the increased vomiting, fatigue and seriously low energy might be the new normal until the baby is born.  This is frustrating as I felt like I was hitting a routine and becoming a bit more independent.  I have now reverted back to relying more on my parents and husband on a daily basis.  I know I've said it before but I don't know how I'd do it without them.  They are the definition of good people.     

Tuesday = Supplies = Fiona Fun!

Every Tuesday my friend the Fed Ex man comes to my house with 2 or 3 large heavy boxes of IV fluids, medications and supplies.  Who cares, right?  Wrong.  When I bring in the boxes (yup I know I shouldn’t because they are pretty heavy but if no one is here I bring them in) Fiona goes crazy.  She claps, squeals and gets down right happy to see the boxes.  I can barely get them open fast enough for her liking.  But once they are open, my work is essentially done. 

I learned months ago that she quite liked to be helpful and was a pretty strong little girl.  So one by one Fiona carries the IV bags (usually there are 21 - I use 3 per day so it lasts a week) and puts them into the bin where they live.  She has learned the best way to carry them and it doesn’t faze her if she drops one she just picks it right back up.  The OCD part of me used to rearrange them to look nice, but then I wondered if I had really lost my mind and left them just the way she puts them because I thought if someone would really care that my IV bags aren’t organized they would just have to leave my house.  The IV bags are by far Fiona’s favorite. 

She does like the other things though too – especially the ice pack that comes with my medication.  She will run around the house with it and I swear nearly get frostbite on her hands before she will give it back.  Alcohol wipes are also a great source of entertainment.  They fit just about anywhere and we find them everywhere (so far the best place was the fridge, which she can’t open herself so she must have snuck that in somehow).  Her preference is to dump them out and put them all back in the bag or if that isn’t as fun, file them in our file drawer.  The latest fascination is with the flushes.  I think it is because they are wrapped in crinkly plastic (picture of her unloading those on the left).  The poor girl is going to be sad when Tuesday is just another day and all of these fun “toys” are gone.  I on the other hand will be one happy lady!   

Why do people stare?

I can really answer my own question, it is human nature and people are curious.  I am guilty of it and I am guessing most people are.  My issue is the long awkward staring that makes the person you are staring at feel bad about something they likely can't do anything about.  I personally have only experienced this for a short time.  I am really having a new sense of what someone who looks different for any reason whether it is their skin color, a physical disabilty or having medical equipment (wheelchair, oxygen etc.) must go through everyday. 

Usually in my errands to the grocery store or Target I don't notice too many of those awkward stares which is nice.  My pet peeve at the grocery store is the people who keep running into my backpack.  What I'd really like to say is yes I know it is big, bulky and in your way but I'm the one stuck with it 24/7 so just deal with it for the minute it bothers you.  Where I seem to find the staring more prominent is at restaurants or other places where it is less hectic (not that I get out much these days).  Ryan and I went to a nice dinner and it was incredible the amount people whose heads nearly spun off to stare at me getting up, putting on my backpack to go use the bathroom.  I felt like I was wearing flashing Christmas lights on my head.  Sometimes I think I should wear a sign on the backpack saying "I'm pregnant.  I vomit.  This helps."  What I would like people to do instead of staring is just ask what it's for.  The families I care for at work most often ask about the backpack.  Many ask immediately but some take a while.  I don't bring it up but I really don't mind people asking, I would rather have them know then just assume who knows what.  I have yet to get a negative response about it, which I know others who get stared at are likely not as lucky. 

I am very blessed to know this will end for me.  It has definitely opened my eyes to how much just a look or too long of a look can make someone feel.  Think about it the next time you see someone who looks different than you.  I sure do. 

Ziploc bags. Don’t leave bed without them.

This lesson I learned when I was pregnant with Fiona and use it too often with this pregnancy.  Ziploc bags make for great vomit receptacles.  Now it did take me a bit and a few embarrassing situations (vomiting in hallways, elevators, parking lots, places no one wants to see) to figure this out but I’m a pretty quick learner and began carrying them with me.  If you see me these days, just ask where my Ziploc bag is.  I have many and they are everywhere.  I currently have one tucked into my waistband as I am wearing pants with no pockets and a T-shirt.  My anxiety level would be greatly increased if I did not have one on me at all times.  I always have a backup and my trusty backpack comes in handy.  Two bags live in there.  There are even some next to my bed as you just never know when you might need one.  Jacket pockets are great as are purses and diaper bags.   


There has to be a lot in the car.  No question.  I learned that lesson in the car after I only had one, had already used it and reopened it.  Bad idea.  When I was in labor with Fiona, Ryan did a smart thing and just took the box with us in the car.  Now some of you might be entirely grossed out by this and I get it.  Then you have my husband who is great about taking my Ziploc bags after I get home from work (often there is vomiting on the way home) and he often comments about it and what I ate that day.  He never ceases to put a smile on my face.  I’ve also learned you don’t want to go cheap, buy the Ziploc brand.  They seal well.  Can’t have the bags coming open, it really defeats the purpose of them in the first place.  If only they made one that wasn't see-through. 

The PICC line I love to hate.

Some more info on the PICC (with some help from Wikipedia).  A peripherally inserted central catheter (PICC line) is a form of intravenous access that can be used for a prolonged period of time.  A PICC is inserted in a peripheral vein, such as the basilic vein (large vein in upper arm) and then advanced through increasingly larger veins, toward the heart until the tip rests in the distal superior vena cava (large vein that carries blood into the heart).  

I love my PICC line, really I do.  The biggest reason is that it has helped me carry the Bitoski until now and that s/he is healthy.  I don't know if I could say that without having the PICC, it is a bit of my lifeline these days.  Hands down, love the PICC line.  It is sturdy where a regular IV just isn't, there is much less worry about pulling it out or getting it kinked.  It lasts for a long time!  I've had it since Nov 19th - almost 4 months now and it still works where normal IV's only last a few days.

I hate my PICC line.  There are a few things that drive me crazy about having a PICC.  It itches.  A lot.  Recently there was an issue when my skin got angry that it's been covered for months and blistered terribly all around my line.  With the help of Pam (my home nurse), some experts at work, and every two day dressing changes things are looking better.  But it still itches like crazy.  Showering is a chore.  The dressing can't get wet, so I use glad press & seal and then handi-wrap to seal my arm before I shower (after I unhook my pumps).  Of course I can't wrap my arm myself so I must rely on Ryan or my mom to wrap my arm.  Let's just say a quick shower just doesn't happen anymore.  I'm hooked up to lines all the time and have to carry a backpack, it just gets old especially when the lines get caught on door knobs or something random and I almost take myself out in the process.  Sleeping is different.  I roll around like a crazy person at night.  I figured out quickly that I had to be careful or I would get tangled and kinked.  Something is always beeping at me.  Some pump wants to be restarted for no reason or is needing batteries or tubing is kinked or thinks it is.  My alarm clock these days is the beeping of my IV pump to tell me the bag is empty.  I look forward to the day when it is a baby crying instead. 

Yes the PICC drives me crazy but in the end I love it more than I hate it.