"Mommy, what's this?" as she's pointing to a picture in my book
"Um....that is a picture of a prolapsed uterus."
"Oh...is he a boy?"
"No monkey, that's a girl"
"Those are not boy parts?"
"Why does she have that?"
"I guess she had too many babies and her uterus got worn out so it fell."At least it wasn't a picture of a chancre, but still. I'll be editing the content with post-it notes from now on. And the Man didn't think my honest answer was the way to go, but I disagree. When all else fails, tell the truth. I know there's no way to know for sure at age 3, but she is fascinated with all my nursing textbooks....I think she is destined for greatness. I mean, note the complete thoroughness of questions regarding uterine prolapse; she even continued on and told her father about our conversation using the words "uterine prolapse" because he came and asked me what it was. Taking complete health histories at age 3 is a sign of brilliance for sure...I am still learning to do that at 27.
In other news, my patient today was an 82 year old woman with stage 4 ovarian cancer. It was my first clinical on a med/surg floor and it went well, although I didn't get to cath anyone. I did get to wander down to OB for awhile as well...more on that another time. There's always that feeling walking onto the floor as a nursing student...like everyone but you knows what's going on, and they all know that you don't know. Also, I can't seem to get a patient under the age of 75 for the life of me. Oh well, at least I'm not still stuck in the nursing home for clinicals. Next week, I have a rotation in Day Surgery that I've heard is good.
The Man's employment situation is still pretty dire, and I freaked myself out by looking at my bank balance. Never do that. He is pretty frustrated and I am just praying that something comes along soon. I don't know what we'll do if this goes on for much longer than it already has.
Monday is the 25th, the day that Matthew passed away...after 5 years, I still don't know how the hell to get through these days. The brevity of his little life still wipes me out completely. It's so strange, because in my heart, he is 5 years old now; I can see him growing, changing as the years go by. I see myself changing as the years go by, a direct line of blessings and consequences that can be traced straight back to him. If you take any random 15 days of my life, there isn't a single chunk that has had as much impact on my entire being as the sweeping range of events that was his life. I don't always know what sort of God I believe in...I pray desperately--often--and I believe he is up there. But, I have trouble thinking of heaven as an actual place, and I can't imagine that God himself could ever give me an answer about my baby boy that would satisfy me. Still, I know in my heart that Matthew is safe and that he is not hurting or troubled and under the circumstances that has to be enough.
Alright, I still have an entire postpartum case study to write tonight. You know, the one I was complaining about making no progress on in Tuesday's post. Really need this weekend to save my ass on study time. Wish me luck and emotional stability for the rest of April!