Little healthcare information tip

I’ve worked in medical/dental offices in various capacities for over 18 years.  I’ve been the receptionist, the dental assistant, the insurance coordinator, the patient accounts trainer, the practice manager/administrator, and the consultant, among several other roles and titles.

Currently, I work from home. I listen to recorded calls online from 7 dental practices in CT, NJ, WA, NY, and TN, and 2 orthopedic practices in NE.  When people call in to make an appointment, I get to hear both sides of the conversation to make sure that the call handlers are saying what they’re supposed to, providing good service, and not missing opportunities for new patients.

I’ve been amazed at many things over the years working in this field.  But lately I’m most amazed at how many people call an office for the first time to make an appointment, and they don’t know what their insurance is, and they don’t have the card with them. 

It’s just hard to fathom, to me, that a person would not have that info in their wallet at all times.  And if they don’t keep it there for some odd reason, why wouldn’t they have it at the ready when they’re calling an office that they will expect to be billing that insurance?  If your method of payment is an insurance company, it seems that would be info you’d be sure to have right there…

So for the sake of the next office you call for the first time, not that any of YOU would lack this nugget common sense already, here’s your free tips…

~Always keep your insurance cards, medical and dental, in your wallet. If you get a new one in the mail, switch them out immediately and you’re all set.

~When you call a new office to make an appointment, have your applicable insurance card available.  It’ll just make everything easier for everyone.

Why do they need it? Because generally the office should be calling or checking online for your benefits to be sure they’re current and to be able to let you know what your patient responsibility will be prior to the date of service. It’s to provide you with the most info about what fees you can expect to incur from this service.  So don’t be grouchy, just be prepared to share what they need so they can provide you the most accurate info.

Oh…One more tip… 

~When it says “this call may be recorded” it means from the time the phone starts ringing til the call ends.

Including when you’re on hold.  (“Billy! Stop licking the dog!” or random saucy comments to another party in the room)

Including when you’re choosing options. (“I hate these automated phone systems! *%#@$ and *&*#@” )

And if you’re in one of those states making an appointment for one of those types of office, maybe I’ll hear ya. 

What? Creepy?  Well, wouldn’t you rather it be me than who knows who else?

Kinlee’s Pumpkin Plant

Toward the end of school last year, Kinlee came home from school with a tiny egg carton cup with a sprout in it. It was a pumpkin plant just starting.

Since I kill just about every plant of which I have had custody, we took it directly to Grandma C’s house.  They planted it in the back yard.

In about 4-6 weeks, it was a full-blown plant, and it had the first flower.

In July, the plant continued to grow. It was pretty amazing to see it get bigger so quickly.  Several flowers came and went, but finally we saw the first little pumpkin.



The plant was bigger than Kinlee in no time.


The pumpkin kept growing. And by early August, though still green, it was getting to look like a “real pumpkin.” 


As every good gardener should, Kinlee watered her plant when playing at Grandma C’s.  It’s turning orange, and that pleased her.  But do you see the size of that thing.  ALL of that green that’s below Kinlee’s shoulder height is that one little sprout of a plant grown BIG.


It’s neat to watch this grow.  It’s neat to think of the symbolism of the seed that was  planted, the sprout that was cared for and then re-planted in the right place, and the way that a little sprout put in the right environment can thrive more quickly than I can imagine. 

It’s a lot like the little sprout that brought that sprout home.  And we’re thankful for people like Mrs. S, who helped her plant that pumpkin seed while at school last year, and contributed to the planting of innumerable seeds of potential.

Popping in for a sec

A few things to note…

• I’m working on a blog re-do, to represent a different approach to things blog related as I move forward.  I hope to have it up this weekend. No promises.
  
• Braska’s finished day 2 of a 3-day wean (tube feeding transition tool…measuring ability, not actually weaning) I’m documenting that over at her blog if you’re interested.
  
• Tonight we had medical exams for new life insurance policies. I’m 5’2”.  Not 5’3”.  I’ve been fooling myself thinking I had an inch I don’t have.  But oh well, still just plain short.
  
• We’re in the middle of setting up a special needs trust and doing our wills.  Hence the aforementioned updated life insurance policies.  It’s important, but it’s a lot.  I don’t mind the “someday I’ll be dead” thing…I’m good with all that completely.  But all the arranging and considering what we want for the girls, especially Braska, when she’s a teen and beyond.   Writing the Letter of Intent that specifies SO many details of what we hope her life will be like and how we want it to look as far as we can see. It’s hard to think like that. My brain doesn’t work that way.
  
• Kinlee is such a funny girl.  She tells knock-knock jokes, she does impressions of other people, she has a few fake voices and distorted faces that she pulls out here and there for a laugh.  It’s enough to make us just stare at her occasionally.  The kid is not even 2 yet.
  
• I really need to do another installment of Kinleeisms.  They are unbelievable. The girl has great sentence structure, pronouns, tense, proper use of possessives, and on and on.   She’s a little tiny adult, with the full ability for conversation and real discussion, and she converses CONSTANTLY.
  
• Someone bought me a new pair of shoes yesterday. They are AWESOME.  I cannot wait to wear them. I have a lot of foot pain, so to find a shoe that’s classy looking AND comfy. Really honestly comfy!  I’m still blown away.  I even wore them around the house last night. Just because.
  
• It’s amazing to me how something that has been long anticipated with excitement can become totally revolting in the split second of a condescending glance.
  
• Tomorrow begins wildcard weekend.  Should be some fun football, even though the Bears have a bye this week. Enjoy!

Hey! I know that face!

So, I'm watching the news this morning, eating my toasted oat cereal after feeding Braska, while she plays on the floor. I hear them do a tease for an upcoming piece about "do men really prefer blondes?" and I glance up to see a familiar face. I do a shake-your-head-to-clear-your-mind thing and look again, but they've already gone to commercial. I hit record on the DVR and wait for the segment. In a few minutes, it's back.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Some of you might recognize the face of that brunette, others may only know her by her shopping habits in relation to Braska Bear...that would be my younger sister, Rachel, AKA Auntie Rachel. How weird is that?! To look up and see my little sister on a national news channel?? I dialed her up right away to tell her...she had no idea. Crazy. She does look quite different now, I mean it's been like 7 or 8 years. But it's definitely her.

The backstory is that several years ago, maybe around 2000(?) or so, Rach had a good friend who worked for Fox 2 St. Louis. Somehow, this thing came around where Rach basically walked around a mall with people watching others' reactions...she was a blonde then, most of the time. Then they went and did a hair color change, and she went back to walk the mall again as a brunette. As I remember, they were observing the treatment and quality of service she got from staff in stores and just general reactions in the common spaces. It was interesting. I could have never done it! And I think it was actually that time when she went with brunette for good, at least she's been one since. (Varying shades of such...of course.) Even though the experiment showed the blonde version of her was more well-received. She was getting ready to graduate and take on the big bad professional world...and she did!

So these clips were just a smidge of the news story that was originally done, but how Fox News in NYC got them and decided to throw them in this particular blip...who knows. Just goes to prove, never know where you'll end up once you're committed to film or photo. Good to know.

Playgroup #1

It's almost 2pm, my husband is napping after his regularly scheduled very late night (early morning) due to that super exciting Friday Night Magic. He got home about 12 hours ago, and so far this morning he's moved more than he does on a typical Saturday and Sunday combined. Braska's asleep too, after a big morning, and I relieved her of her bouncy chair just BEFORE she fell asleep this time...even though I love the alternative option. So I thought this is my chance to sit down and actually do what I thought would be the norm for the blog...just sharing thoughts.

This morning we went to the Stay N Play Playgroup hosted by the University of Illinois Early Childhood Development Lab. Braska was chosen to participate in this group, and I was glad to have the chance for her to interact with other kids and with students who would learn from her too. I thought that there would be some other kids with developmental delays, maybe even DS, but that wasn't the case. She was the lone "non-typical" kid. Initially, I wasn't sure how this would go. The students and supervising faculty are super nice. They obviously love kids and playing with and teaching them. The group we're in is 8 children, ages 7 months to 15 months. We're at the high end of the chronological age and closer to the low end of the developmental age. But I figured at least we wouldn't be the only one to just sit and watch, playing kind of our own. I was wrong, though.

Little Kathryn, 15 months, was crawling up in her own chair, running like a champ, sharing toys, and obeying instructions. She was just adorable, adopted from an Asian country, super petite (only a pound more than Braska), and obviously very smart. Even the youngest one, 8 1/2 month old Madeline, was crawling all over the place like a pro. There was Phoena (fee-na), Reece, and Sheila all running about and happy when they had a toy they liked. Alina was 10 months and cute as a button. She sat next to us at snack and devoured her colored goldfish. Then there was Braxton, the lone boy, 15 months, and wow...I steered Braska out of his radar whenever possible. He was big, dangerous, handsy, and one seriously drooling, coughing, and snotting machine. His mom was very nice, but she had her hands full. Poor guy didn't know what to do with so many cute girls within his reach!

Times like these, which haven't been all that frequent, usually surprise me by invoking a reaction that I don't expect. I sat there for the first several minutes, watching the others run around and play and share, thinking that this was just not going to work. God bless M for going with me. I didn't even ask him to go. I didn't even hint at it in the least. I just assumed he'd stay home and Braska and I would check it out. But he went, and I was glad to see some other dads there too.

It's not that I don't know the reality of our situation. It's not that I am not aware of Braska's delays and limitations. It's not that I'm embarrassed of her delays. It's not even that I'm resentful of the "normal" kids or their parents. I think it's more that I feel the need to explain things. I want to defend her, show that she's not without merit or value. I tend to rely on her good looks, silly as that sounds. Everyone gushes over how adorable she is, everywhere we go. I've never had a negative comment about her at all in public, which I know happens to alot of parents in my shoes. The glasses are a big draw, everyone cooing and asking about them. She gets compliments on her hair and her snazzy outfits, and I am proud that she gets positive reactions. I'm admittedly big on appearances, so I'm pleased that people find my kid cute and not repulsive. That's natural and acceptable, right? I know it's an issue for me to work on, my shallow nature regarding the outside. But in these situations, that's my comfortable place. That's where I know we can move the conversation to and relax.

Today we participated, she played, we sang along with "The Hello Song" and it's close relative, "The Goodbye Song." I think it's good for Braska to have this kind of exposure, since she spends 96% percent of her time with just us, and the remainder is spent with a very small circle of friends who we don't see that often. The students and supervisor were great, especially Mary-Kelsey, our assigned student for the semester. They asked about what things they could incorporate for Braska, what types of toys or items that she would best respond to or that would assist in meeting her developmental goals in EI. It's very nice of them to take these things into consideration. I have to think they thought that she would be an interesting subject for the class and this part of the semester requirements for the students, or we wouldn't have been chosen for the group. They had all her background and info from the beginning. Mary-Kelsey is a speech pathology student, and I say it never hurts to have more exposure to speech/language and feeding help.

Introductions were done of the kids, but not with ages or any other info. So we gleaned ages just from hearing people ask and answer while the kids were playing. This is where I felt a bit lost. I didn't get to explain why she didn't crawl to get toys. I didn't get to explain why she was the only one at the table who shuffled her snack but didn't put it anywhere near her mouth, why her sippy cup was the only one not touched. I didn't even get to use the words Down syndrome. Is that good? Should I be glad it wasn't an issue? Or did they all just know and ignore it? Did they just think "something's different about that kid" and leave it at that? I don't know. I wonder if they were trying to be all about the inclusion thing and didn't want to make us feel different or like a stand-out.

I don't know. I guess I'm still processing. As I sit here, I'm not upset at all. I'm not hurt or disappointed or anything. Please don't think that or read that into the picture. I'm just thinking through the morning. I wonder why I reacted like I did. I mean, I know why I kept her from Braxton's reach.

Above all, I'm proud of her for not flipping out in a situation that was very overwhelming. The noise and the people and the unfamiliar place. These are things that often are too much for her individually, but together, I was sure it would bring a withdrawal, at least. But she didn't seem to mind. She watched at first, kind of let it all sink in and process, then she played. Mostly she played with the things we gave her, she's easy like that. But there were a couple things that she's used with her therapists, so she particularly liked those. She babbled a little, and she didn't mind at all sitting in a little kid chair at the table for about 10 minutes playing with colored goldfish and banging on the table. I'm anxious to see how it goes as we move forward. This lasts til the end of March or early April, I think. Every Saturday morning, we'll go and play. I bet by the end things will be very different, so that will be fun to see. And most of all, I'll probably learn alot and work through my own internal things. It's about time, I'd say.

Way to go, Braska Bear. Thanks for going, M.

Lost bits

There have been so many times in the last couple weeks when I've thought of things I want to talk about or just throw out there for fun. I need to start carrying a little notebook around with me in order to jot them down. I could put them in my PDA/phone, but I'm not so good with the texting even if it is full keyboard. So here's a few semi-random things that I meant to give some time to... aren't you lucky you stopped by today??
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December 14, 2006, the day we brought Braska home from the hospital...finally. Then and now. I hope to try to recreate this pic every year. It's the first one after the day of her birth with she and I together.

We've come a LOOOOOOOOOONG way, baby....you and me both.

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I watched a show last week--I won't mention it or link it because I don't want to even accidentally be blamed for endorsing it--that I normally purposefully avoid even though it's watched in the other living room in our house. I watched it because it advertised having a DS character (this was not the ER episode), and I wanted to see how they dealt with it. I wasn't all that impressed with the actual storyline, but there was an exchange between two characters that I thought was interesting.

He said, "What would you do if you had a kid with too many chromosomes?"

She said, "How do we know that the rest of us aren't just missing a chromosome?"

(Might not be perfectly verbatim...didn't write it down right away.)

Interesting.

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Some things aren't funny. This is something I've been putting together in my mind for some time, and it'll have to wait for further elaboration. But it's important to me...humor is good, laughter is great, but some things just aren't funny and shouldn't be laughed off "just because"...family or not. I've seen so much of that kind of laughing do serious damage to whole lives.

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On Saturday, 12/15 we joined up with a couple small groups to do some caroling at a couple nursing homes here in town where members of our church reside. I haven't done this in many years, but it used to be part of our family Christmas tradition when I was younger. Granted, we are not actually part of either of these small groups from our church...we're kind of like the honorary small group members who don't actually attend small group. I wish that were different, but baby steps... Our friends are super enough to include us on social occasions so we jumped in. (My husband would say he was more dragged in, really. See his take on the night here.) It was fun to be with our buds again...we don't get together nearly enough anymore. And all the kids were at sitters, so we were fancyfree....well, as fancyfree as you can be on the churchbus visiting elderly and singing Christmas carols. But it was good. It snowed the whole time as we were in the middle of this past weekend's snow storm. It made for a nice setting.

A few pics of the evening...smiles on the bus. There were goodies and hot cocoa circulating to keep us happy and warm.

After we got done, we went back to the church to hang and eat more goodies. We borrowed Oasis, which is the teen auditorium area. It's pretty darn nifty, I say. Booths on the side, cafe area, with air hockey, video games, and such on the second level.


The girls gabbed as the guys played, for the most part. This is Jennifer S, me, and Karen K.

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Today was a pretty good day. I felt more like myself today, getting out, talking to people, interacting with adults. Here's how it went...

7am--Up, shower, get Braska up and fed, get us both dressed and ready.

7:45am--Leave the house!! Take Belle to the groomer.

8am--Use the time on the north side of town to run errands. Post office to get stamps, Target to return a gift, Wal-Mart to get things we need, gas station to fill up before weekend trip.

9:20am--Return to pick up Belle and head home.

9:30am--Check email, reply to work issues, finish a project.

10am--Freshen up and dress Braska for going out. (Previous outfit was for errands. Pathetic, I know.) Prepare diaper bag and collect Braska's stuff for feeding while we're out.

10:45am--Leave house heading for lunch meeting.

11:10am--Arrive early at the Olive Garden. Make a few phone calls in the car while I have a minute.

11:20am--Go in, get seated, etc. Have nice lunch w/good friend/work contact. Fed Braska while there. (I'm getting used to doing her tube feeding in public. I don't even notice if people look anymore.) Did some business, got caught up, and relaxed a bit over soup and salad.

12:50pm--Head to the mall (big deal, I NEVER go to the mall). Managed to get gifts for BIL#1 and #2. Found a clearance pair of boots at Payless, stood in line for Santa, got pics of Braska with the very nice St. Nick. (Soon to be posted on her site. Gimme a day or two.)

2:20pm--Arrive home, feeling like I actually got out, and loving it!

The rest of the day was a bit less eventful, but that's ok. I got out. I had adult conversation. Man, I miss that something fierce.

I didn't do a dish, clean a room, unload the dryer or any of the many other things I needed to do, but I still feel good about the day.

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While I was out today, getting gas, a guy came out of the convenience store with a brown paper bag, obviously holding one of the tall beer cans. (Yeah, I watch Intervention. That's how I know. Disturbing, yet very enlightening show. I've learned alot of helpful things that I've had a chance to use, but that's for another time.) He gets in his car, closes the door, fiddles around with some stuff, then opens the beer can in plain sight, downs quite a swig, then takes off. I don't like it. Not at all. He is putting my child at risk, and I don't care for it.

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Target is expensive. While I was there today, I thought I'd use my newly obtained store credit to get the things I had on my Wal-Mart list. So I went to check them out. Now I don't usually know what anything costs. If I need it, I just get it, so I can't tell you how much a pound of meat is or what my deoderant costs or anything like that. BUT I do know what diapers and Braska's liquid food costs. And wow, even the Target generic brand was 15 to 20% more than I pay at WM. All the items I looked at were a few dollars more expensive. I just couldn't do it. Even though it was "free money," I couldn't do it. I didn't think I'd become this person, but I guess I have. Looking at price tags. Guess it's about time. I don't know how all you Target shoppers do it.

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One last thing for now:If you're looking for more wit and sarcasm than the normal person can provide, check out M's blog. He's been posting again after a bit of a hiatus, and they're worth checking out. *Disclaimer (made with love):I cannot be held responsible for the content of that blog.*

Shop talk

Saturday I was at Wal-Mart shopping for a few items, more than one of which was in the baby section. I've always thought that when people are actually shopping in the baby section, they seem to slip into a friendlier mode, talking to others who are also in their world, discussing ages, genders, and latest milestones of their kids.

As I was standing in front of the shelves full of baby foods, cereals, and juices, there was a lady who came up from my right side. She was talking to the man a few steps behind her who was dutifully pushing the shopping cart piled high with their coats and scarves. There was no kid in sight. I should specify that she was talking LOUDLY. It was almost as if she was unabashedly inviting people to stop and listen to the earth-shattering things she had to say. As she walked up to where I was looking through the Graduates items for Lil' Crunchies, she stood about 12 inches from me and sighed very loudly. She said, apparently to the man, although she didn't direct it toward him, "I just WISH he would eat! What do you think we should try this time? Or do we just give in and let him eat the same two things." The man made no response, just followed as she passed behind me and then stopped on my left side. She continued, still sounding like she was trying to share this info with someone a few aisles over, "Nobody gets how frustrating this is! I wish we could go back to when he just took a bottle. "

Since I hadn't found what I wanted yet, I considered walking around the next aisle and waiting for them to finish and leave before returning to search some more. But that seemed silly. Before I realized I'd decided to say anything, I heard myself blurt out, "I know feeding can be stressful sometimes." "Well, WE are trying to get him to start taking some solids, and he only wants a few particular ones," she replied. "It's been like three weeks, and I don't know how long I can take this!" She had such a martyr's air to her, at least I think that's why I said, "Aw, that is hard. My daughter has a feeding tube." I surprised myself, let me tell you. She hesitated for just a second, and she said dismissively, "Well I guess I should be thankful, then. "

Thank goodness, I spied those evasive Lil' Crunchies, and grabbed them up. I said, "I'm sorry it's frustrating for you," smiled as sincerely as I could, and I walked away.

It got under my skin, and that surprised me. She had no way to know what feeding issues meant in our house, and I'm sure they are just as frustrated with their particular set of circumstances. There was just something about her more-distressed-than-thou air that was too much for me. It was almost like she wanted some kind of medal of courage for hanging in there, and if she did, I'm sorry she felt like she needed to look for it in a Wal-Mart aisle. I gotta say, that poor guy looked like he'd been hearing that song for a very long time.

The Raisin Bran Life

Just finished making dinner. Like with ingredients combined to create parts of a meal, all together making what most people might call "dinner" or "supper."

Here's the thing. I don't cook. Now, mind you, it's not that I *can't* cook, it's that I just simply don't. Why? Because I'm married to man who doesn't eat real food, and I have a daughter who also doesn't eat. And I got tired of cooking for one (me), usually after I had "cooked" for one (him) in the form of mac n' cheese or some such boxed item. SO...therefore, I don't cook.

I would be happy to live on Raisin Bran, even a generic. Yeah, that's how far I've fallen. When M is busy or it's just me and Braska, I practically do live on it. Throw in a Slim Fast shake here or there, and I'm good for a long time.

I used to cook. Even when I lived alone after college, then when I had a roommate, and even at the very beginning of our marriage, I did actually cook. But when I learned that my husband preferred, yes that's right...preferred Hamburger Helper to homemade dinners, I took the easy way out. It eventually slipped even further, as now HH is a "real dinner," as opposed to things like mini-tacos in the toaster oven, nachos, grilled cheese, and frozen pizza. While you're shaking your head, realize this....he actually LIKES this stuff, at least as much as he likes any food. He doesn't like to eat anything, really. He says that eating is a hassle, and he's jealous of Braska's ability to receive sustenance without putting forth effort. He even talked of seeing what it would cost to do an elective g-tube. Yeah, crazy, I know.

He likes turkey, if it's pulled/shredded and dried out about 10 minutes then salted. He will eat lasagna sometimes, tacos usually, chili occasionally, and chicken bits here and there, that's chicken breasts cut into small pieces or pulled then cooked again with seasoning until they're pretty dry. The hard part, really, is this... even food he "likes" are not always acceptable. Like tacos could be considered a favorite, but it is possible for me to have all veggies chopped, meat seasoned, and shells warmed and he'll walk in from work and not want tacos. Or I could make homemeade lasagna, one of my best offerings, which he does like, but after spending all the time to make sauces and layer and such, it wouldn't be a surprise if he didn't feel like lasagna that night.

SO in order to avoid such things, I've just gotten in a pattern of not planning at all. That's hard for me, as I am WAY a planner. Dinner time is the old college style "what do you want, I don't know, what do YOU want" kind of thing. Then I stand and look at a bare fridge and sparse pantry and give him options of mini-ravioli, beef ramen (which he actually CHOOSES sometimes), or popcorn. It's a sad place we've come to, but he really doesn't mind.

I, on the other hand, have fantasies about dinner time. Meals planned out ahead of time so that I can order my day appropriately and shop more efficiently. It's when we set a crock pot of beef roast and veggies on the table with rolls and salad. We sit down and chat about whatever comes to mind, things of the day, what's new with the kiddo. It's comfortable and relaxed. Even after 10 years, I still have that dream. Is it any wonder that we have a child with feeding issues? I don't think it's a coincidence...and the speech/feeding therapists that we've seen don't either. They keep trying to get us to sit at the table and include Braska. But our dining room is generally just a walkway from the hall to the kitchen. I keep thinking I'll do it with her, just us two, even if it's not a group thing, but I haven't. It's just easier to stick with the norm...catching up on DVR shows while I eat off a TV tray and he eats at his computer across the room. We're not eating the same things, so we don't usually even eat at the same time....well, sometimes that works out. Braska usually is already done with her 5 minute straight-to-the-belly dinner before we start. Then I fix whatever he's eating, then I decide what I'm going to eat and I make it.

Wow...didn't mean for this to become all about our eating, but it is kind of interesting, or pathetic maybe. We admit it. We're not deluded into thinking this is the right way, it's just survival on my part, and it pretty much the way he's always known.

So anyway...back to tonight. I have been very upset at the state of things and how bad they've gotten. Our house is trashed, like the worst it's ever been. This is completely unacceptable to me, but thankfully in a way, M doesn't mind. He never says a word about it... so at least I'm not being hounded. That's a good thing. But I don't like it. I don't like that we've been doing take-out too often, that we haven't been actually eating food, non-boxed. So today, after a frustrating therapy session that made me feel like I would NEVER get things right (not the therapists fault, she's good), I decided that I was going to get something accomplished today. So I started with the kitchen. I always start there. It's the one place I can dig into and actually finish. And when it's done, it looks so great.

Since I had a clean kitchen, I was more in the mood to put forth an effort to make something. So I decided on chicken, rice, and salad. This is on the "usually" list of acceptable things. We haven't had it in a while, so that makes it a better bet. I went through the process of the chicken (thawing, dicing, cooking, seasoning, cooking more until dry) then I saw an onion. This is rare because I don't usually buy produce because it always goes bad. M hates onions, so I got an idea. Why I thought of this, I do not know. I decided I'd make my own onion rings. I LOVE onion rings. I don't remember why I bought this onion, but who cares. I did a quick web search for batter recipes and there I went. I managed to keep an eye on the chicken, start the rice, chop the salad veggies, make the onion batter, slice the onions, and get them in the oil all in stride.

Man, they were good!!!! Check out how pretty they are!

In the end, M had a nice dinner of chicken bits, rice, and salad, followed by vanilla ice cream. I had part of a chicken breast, tomato, and onion rings! Now that's dinner!

I'll hold onto my dinner dream. Someday I may get there, but I'll not hold my breath. Raisin Bran will continue to be my friend, but at least for today, I accomplished a few things that made me proud.

31 for 21: What to say

I have encountered plenty of people who ask "How old is she?" when Braska and I are out together here and there. They always guess her age about 5 months younger than she is, but that's ok, since that's what size she is. I have said several times that I can imagine it will bother me a bit more, although still not a huge deal, when she turns one next month and I see their reaction to that, as she still is in her car seat/carrier when we're in a restaurant or in a store since she doesn't sit up.

Today, I met some friends for brunch. The waitress was a nice enough, very young girl, and she started cooing at Braska right away. That's nice. I don't mind, Braska likes the attention, and I'm proud of my cutie. The waitress asked her age, and I told her 11 months. She then said, "But she's not walking yet?" as she noticed that she was up to the table in her car seat/carrier. I just agreed and said, "Not yet." She said she had a 14-month-old and told me how soon I'd be running after her. "Mine was walking by then," she said, referring to Braska's age. I just smiled and took a drink, trying to politely end that part of the conversation, hoping that one of my friends with me would say something about food or that she would walk away to let us look at the menu. She paused a moment, then finally said she'd be back in a minute.

I told my friends then that I never know what to say, and that's the truth. I almost feel like I want to defend Braska or something...like it's not her fault that she doesn't sit yet. But I also don't want to be just constantly blurting out that she has DS for no real reason. So I guess it's something I'll get used to. It's better now that her feeding tube is under her shirt instead of in her nose... that helps cut down on comments and questions, but still. Maybe I'll sit down and plan out some possible statement that I can kind of keep in mind. That's how I am. I like to be ready for situations. Then again, maybe I'll just go with it.

I don't mind telling her "story." So it's not that, I just wish I new what the right time was to say this or that.

Still don't wanna

So I've spent alot of time this morning looking over information about G-tubes, specifically the PEG process, which is what our doctor would use. Braska doesn't seem to be improving in her eating, and I'm just getting tired of the battle. I feel like that makes me a bit of a mothering failure, to be honest, yet I know that I've tried everything I can for 9 months now. I just hate to put her through another procedure, and I guess I've become a bit paranoid about the possibility for complications. As I told a friend yesterday, they say it's routine, but what's routine? How can poking a hole in my baby's tummy be so routine?

I guess this is just another one of those situations when being the adult is no fun. So many people say that their kids did so much better once they got rid of the NG and went to the G-tube, but then there are a few who seem to simply have a different set of problems. And if I'm going to have problems anyway, I'd rather do it without having to put her through this royal poking. I'm still struggling with the fact that my gut is telling me not to do it. But what is this gut anyway? My fear of the unknown, more work, new things to learn about how to care for her? I suppose I'm not so sure I trust my gut anymore, or at least about this one thing. I think I've probably thought about it too long.

When I have a big decision to make, I like to look at the pros and cons....usually making a list of them. (Thanks to Mom for that habit.) Even if I know on some level there is really a right way to go, I like to be sure I've considered all the options and made the most educated and thoughtful decision possible. My husband doesn't particularly like this part of my personality, I don't think, but it helps so much when he'll actually humor me and have a full-on, weighing-the-options, decision-pondering discussion with me. But we haven't had one of those in probably 2 years, so I'm out of luck there. He says just do it... get the G-tube, so she won't have a tube in her nose and tape on her face. Good points, sure, but considering the alternative, I just don't know.

In so many parts of life, I'm decisive. When it comes to work, I can make important decisions in record time. I guess I'm just finding that decisions about my child are way different. Not that this should be all that surprising, but still. I just feel like I'm on my own, and that sucks. Plain and simple. I keep praying about it, and I kind of think God is just rolling his eyes, saying, "I'm giving you every possible sign I can!" She doesn't eat enough. She won't drink hardly anything, and she doesn't seem to care. I've made every excuse. She always seems to be just on the brink of some great improvement. We start with a new feeding therapist next week, the guru of our area, so I've been holding out for that. But truth is that even improvement won't be enough at this point. She's got so far to go. Maybe she won't need it for long, but she does need it.

So I guess it's just me... I'm the hold up. I think it's time to give up the filibuster and get on with it. Suppose I should call Dr. R and see what's next.