PreSchool Playdate

Eliza visited her preschool today to check out her new classroom, the art room, music room and gym. She was quite enthusiastic and although initially shy, eventually picked up the microphone in music class and sang a few bars of one of her favorite tunes from Signing Time. I am cautiously optimistic that she will integrate well into the school. A few of the children she met today will still be there in the fall, but mostly it will be a new groups of children. No this is not one of Eliza's classmates with her, but Joyce her nanny.




After a tough day at school, little Miss Easy Rider took her Razor out for a trip around the block. She may not be able to eat a chicken nugget, but Eliza has the balancing skills of Nadia Comenici.



And lastly, a random photo of Eliza and her beloved Bosley.

Lines of the Week

Let's do a quick review:

This week has been filled with 4 fun-filled doctor visits, a chest x-ray, a weekend with my beyond stubborn mother, and the eternal search for clothes for Eliza to wear to preschool.

Scene 1: Mother is to watch 23 pound Eliza for 2 hours so I can take advantage of $200 worth of Gymbucks. Mother's goal: get Eliza to drink 5 ounces of formula.

I get home from Gymboree and ask "hey what did Eliza eat?"

Answer: "Well she wouldn't even try the formula but she ate a lot of sprinkles."

Yes folks SPRINKLES. Those colorful things that go on your Mr. Softee Ice Cream Cone. Those things that have so few calories even Mayor Bloomberg is not mandating that the package list the nutritional information.


Scene 2: At Gyumboree:

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I am looking for clothes for a 23 pound 36 inch 40 month old child."

"We don't make clothes for little people that size."


Scene 3: A telephone call from the neurologist's secretary:

"Eliza's MRI is normal, the doctor will see her in 6 months."

"But her face isn't normal, don't you think that merits something less than a 6 month wait?"

Silence.


Scene 4: Name withheld upon request:

"Well do you think it could be allergies?"

"I only took the summer course on allergies in between Patent Law and Elder Law, but let me google that and get back to you."

Name This Tune

So the fine folks at Lenox Hill Radiology Group decided to leave their office at 8 pm last night without reading Eliza's chest x-ray which was taken at 2:30. Despite the receptionist paging 4 different radiologists none of them deigned to read Eliza's x-ray on their day off.

Eliza has now been prescribed:

dexamethasone, 2 injections
ceftriaxone, 2 injections
Xyrtec
Pulmocort
Albuterol (ooooh! 2 types, liquid and nebulizer!)

All with no result.

Here is what the poor boo sounds like. Even a steamy bath (think New Orleans in August) didn't do squat. Thoughts, ideas, suggestions are welcome.

Another Date With Mr. Dex

Let's not get too excited here that I have had an actual date. No such luck. Eliza however has had yet another date with dexamethasone a/k/a "Mr. Dex." Today's date involved yet another odyssey of going to the doctor, being told what med she needed, going to the pharmacy (a 6 block walk with my foot in a cast in 90 degree weather), going back to the doctor's office, listening to some boob-head parent announce (in a Fran Drescher Nanny voice) "oh wow your kid is sick, why are you in the waiting room with the healthy kids" which led to my response of "Really? Well (a) I am not the architect who designed the doctor's office and failed to include a sick kid room (b) I hadn't noticed that my child has coughed incessantly for 12 freaking hours and (c) why the "F" else would I be in a freaking doctor's office?"

So one steroid shot later we are home. Eliza seems quite happy in her tub though and the bronchial problems have not impaired my girl's ability to sort and categorize:



Orange with orange:



Blue with blue:



Our green/yellow hues together:



And let's not forget how to line up those labels:




Eliza may not be able to breathe really well, but she is still one organized toddler.

Inquiring Brains

I am pleased to report that Eliza's MRi was normal. No lesions, cysts, tumors or little green men crawling about in there. And it actually looked pretty spanky for a micro-preemie brain.

So what is causing this right sided weakness?

The jury is still out and I am waiting to hear from neurologist number two, but the "best" explanation is that Eliza's right sided weakness (mainly facial, but also apparent in Eliza's hand and gait) is simply the result of her extreme prematurity and nothing can really be done about it except perhaps thousands more hours of therapy to lessen the symptoms and a further diagnosis to come.

So the next time you hear a pregnant woman bitch and moan about how she "wishes this was over," or ask how she can bring on labor at 35 weeks since she is bored with her pregnancy or that her feet are swollen, or she has to pee every half hour, or that she is planning a 35 week c-section to accommodate her vacation schedule or that she very stupidly thinks that the 24 week mark is some magical mark at which her baby has reached viability and just needs a bit of fattening up, please, send her my way.

"Awl done"

... to quote Eliza Grace.

After having our MRI pushed back first one hour, then another as we sat in the waiting room, I discovered one way to shorten the line. Rat out the guy who is letting his son eat about 50 Coco Puffs in the waiting room. I made the not so large leap that the 6 year old was likely also on the MRI starvation diet and mentioned (in a concerned tone) to the nurse "it would be nice if people didn't eat in the waiting room, since it is hard enough explaining to a 3 year why she can't have anything." Well this set off a hunt for the offender. The father actually said: "he's not eating it is just a snack." Putting aside my personal angst that in her life time Eliza has not eaten 50 Coco Puffs, I seriously have to question the parenting skills of someone who thinks a dog food size bowl of Coco Puffs is a "snack."

But I digress ...

Eliza made it through with flying colors. Woke up pissed off after 20 minutes, tried to rip her IV out (that's my girl!) and sucked down a record 8 ounces of formula in under ten minutes. She proudly walked out of the hospital on her own two feet and helped hail a cab (she really does this, she is a city kid).

Of course I have decided to put the CD with the MRI films in the laptop in an effort to discern what is what. Ten minutes into this exercise I recognized the futility. So I wait until Monday.

Really, she is back to normal:

MRI

As many of you know, Eliza is having a brain MRI this Saturday to see what is causing this sudden right sided facial weakness. Now while I have a pretty good idea of how a pediatric MRI would "work," having had a few adult MRIs myself, I just couldn't help but head to Google Images for a few snaphots.

To my huge surprise there are children who happily lay there for the MRI while their mother (who is wearing a suit!) looks on lovingly, without a trace of angst on her face:



In fact the MRI is SO MUCH FUN, that other kids line up for the darn thing:



I suspect however that Miss Eliza will not be one of the kids screaming "pick me! pick me!" to the MRI Technician. Instead Eliza's day will look something like this:





A fun day to be had by all!

The Fourth of July

We had a quiet holiday. It can be summed up in three words.

Cute:




Not Cute: