Is there a Doctor in the House?!

My worst nightmare came to pass; we had to bring Ashley to a doctor yesterday after passing what was probably the longest day of my life waiting for Alberto to come home.  Sunday night the diarrhea started, Monday morning I bought her Gatorade and started the BRAT diet, however by Tuesday afternoon she was burning with fever and refusing to eat because she felt like she was going to throw up.  Ashley, who is normally a ball of energy, was listless and spent most of the afternoon sleeping.  The Madrina came home first and stopped in to see me as was her habit and said we needed to bring her to the doctor as soon as Alberto got home.  We jumped on him the minute he walked through the door.

Ashley moaned and cried pitifully during the entire ride to the pharmacy that partnered with a doctor much like the Minute Clinics back in Minnesota.  We paid the 25 peso consultation fee and sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chairs to wait for the Doctor.  I could feel the heat radiating off her legs and Alberto recoiled in shock when I set his hand on her knee so he could feel it too.  Just then the Doctor came to the lobby to bring us back to the exam room.  As we sat talking to him about the symptoms and what she ate the last few days, Ashley continued to cry softly while poor Alberto broke into a sweat with each little noise she made.  The doctor focused on what she might have eaten asking very direct questions on whether she mostly ate chicken, pork, or beef and if we’d been anywhere outside of Mexico City.  I ran down a list of food I’d seen her eat, what she’d drank, and where we’d been including the meal we’d had at McDonald’s the other day much to my husband’s irritation.

A trip long overdue

I'm not sure I want to go back home to the frozen north, but only because I'd have to travel with my darling Ashley again. She started whining upon arrival at the local airport shortly after my dad dropped us off. It was kind of cute actually because he really wanted to help me with the luggage despite the fact he's not strong or coordinated enough to be of any real assistance. I told him to stay in the car while I wrestled with my 2 checked bags, 2 carry-on bags, and each of our "personal" items. I was already irritated because I was up until midnight waiting for my sister-in-law Aide to show up with whatever it was I was supposed to bring with me, which in turn became my second checked bag. It didn't help that I had to rearrange everything to bring my largest bag to exactly 50 pounds to avoid a fee for overweight luggage, and my carry-on was an overstuffed duffle bag. I had separated my electronics for easy removal from my carry-on and my toiletries were in my largest checked bag; my goal was to not be "that person" who holds up the line at security.

Our first order of business was discovering the location of our terminal, after which my priority became brunch. We went to this pretentious French bakery/cafe and ordered the only thing on the menu that appealed to me - a breakfast quesadilla. I should have known better, I mean the menu stated that all of the ingredients (including the whole-wheat tortilla) were organic. I was served an nearly tasteless plate of barely edible food, for which I was charges $12. Ashley insisted that I remove the green stuff (wilted and overcooked spinach) and the following conversation occurred:

Sick Ward

I hate it when Ashley gets sick, because it spreads through the house like wild-fire.  Last Monday she came home from Preschool with a slight cough and it all went downhill from there rather quickly.  By dinner she had a fever of 101.6 and didn’t want to eat anything.  She quickly became lethargic and clingy, so I called in sick to FedEx by leaving a message on my supervisor’s voicemail.  She went to bed with me and about midnight she had an accident.  It’s not fun having to change your sheets in the middle of the night, and only worse when your child is so upset that she wet the bed.  You know when I encouraged her to have a sip of water to help stop the coughing; it never occurred to me that she drank way too much for her poor little bladder to handle.

In the morning I left the house to run to Walgreens for more children’s Tylenol, and I also bought a new friend for Ashley to hold while she was getting better.  I know she doesn’t need any more stuffed animals, but I could hardly resist the impulse because of her upset over wetting the bed.  Carol agreed to watch Ashley during the day so I could go to work with the understanding that I would be home earlier than normal to help with the kids.  I need to save every minute of PTO I have available so we can go to Mexico at the end of March, so the less time I need to take off the better.

Tonight she was coughing so hard that she threw up on my bed.  Please God don’t let me get sick too…

Ciao

Allergic Allegory

I have known for many years that I suffer from seasonal allergies, so it must have been some desire for suffering that compelled me to get retested this year.  I was last tested in the summer of 2007.  I remember the two weeks prior to that appointment as pure torture since in order test allergic reactions, a person must go 14 days without allergy medication.  Do you know what it’s like to have random people ask you if you are ‘really sick’ or need ‘help’ constantly?  I swear that everyone within a 5 mile radius either thought I had some disease or was on drugs due to my continuously bloodshot eyes.  I’m glad I warned HR and my supervisor ahead of time otherwise they might have staged an intervention.  It’s called seasonal allergies people; I’m not deathly ill so please simmer down.

This morning was the test, and honestly the days before the test were not as bad as I remembered from last time.  Truthfully, I haven’t had a bad allergy season since my darling daughter was born and the results of my test reflected greatly reduced or non-existent reactions.  My allergens include dust mites, mold, some grasses, various farm animals, and evil incarnate.

The one true evil in this world has a name:  Felis Catus, aka Mittens, Milo, Jinx, Garfield, or the domesticated CAT.  They always know me for what I am, an allergy sufferer, and they delight in provoking a reaction.  I avoid the shedding devils at every opportunity, however I cannot escape them.  They have turned many of my poor family members into mere servants, catering to their every want and need.  They have exiled me from many homes as I cannot breathe in the presence of pure evil.  Today I was issued a challenge to face my tormentor with the help of a common steroid inhaler to combat inflammation of the lungs.  My other option is to visit those houses in an anti-histamine fueled haze in which I behave like a doped up stoner.

I believe I am ready for the next confrontation with the enemy.  The battlefield is yet undecided but the day is an often celebrated holiday known as Christmas.  Someone in the family is hosting Christmas, and all but one household harbors at least one slinking dander farm.

Bring it on kitty… I got this.

Excerpts from a Pet's Diary

Ciao

Slowly losing my mind

I hate this.  I hate how it feels to wait for something so long and then when it’s finally about to happen I manage to freak myself out.  I hate that I can’t sit still and can barely focus.  Tonight I will hate it even more when I can’t sleep.  Luckily I’ve only emailed the attorney once today, about 10 minutes ago, and I’m trying very hard not to email him again.  He’ll understand, won’t he?  I mean Lance was there when I flipped the f*** out the day the Consulate in Cuidad Juarez called 3 times and I was unable to call them back… (see below) 

Happy Mother’s Day

Today is that one day every year where we are reminded to thank the woman that didn’t kill us during those snotty teenage years.  Hopefully our mothers know how much we love and appreciate them every single day of the year.

My Mother’s Day weekend started on Friday when I attended the tea party given by Ashley’s Preschool.  I got to meet Ashley’s best friend, a cute little girl named Emma who will be going to Kindergarten next year.  Sophie and I exchanged contact information so maybe we can do a play date or something with the girls this summer.  I would like to invite some kids from Ashley’s Preschool class to her birthday party if we actually have one this year.  I feel like I’m being pulled in so many directions that I’m not sure how I would even manage it.  Life was so much easier when I was just an adult, although I have no regrets that I have become a ‘Mamí’.

On Sunday we participated in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure at Mall of America.  My mom, Ashley, and I have been going to this event since Mother’s Day 2009 when Ashley slept the whole time in the stroller.  It is simply awe-inspiring to see a river of people marching along the course.  There are always people in the crowd that stop to hug their moms at the 1st mile marker while the volunteers with megaphones cheer us on from the sidelines.

I hope all of the Mom’s out there have an absolutely wonderful day! 

“A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity take the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to us.”

- Washington Irving

Ciao

Weasel War Dance

Good Lord did I really just attend the eighth Immigration Hearing?  I know we’re coming to the end of this nightmare, but sometimes it’s hard for me to comprehend what we’re going through and what has been lost.  Alberto has been detained by USICE for 149 days as of today, but he’s been in jail for a grand total of 331 days.  That means in just over a month he will have been in jail for a year.  Ashley has had her father nearby for almost an entire year.  Maybe in a way this is yet another blessing in disguise since it has given Ashley a chance to get to know her father.  God willing Alberto will be able to come home before too much longer.

I arrived before Graciela as usual and waited for her in the ‘room of many torments’ found within the bowels of USICE hell.  This was yet another visit where I passed through security without much commentary on behalf of the guards, although I noticed the return of their self-important smirks.  I swear they only asked me for my appointment letter because there was someone who came in the door right behind me.  I stated that I was here, yet again, for my husband’s immigration hearing and passed through the metal detector without issue.  I mumbled on the way out that I would be seeing them next month.  I attribute my defeatist attitude to sleep deprivation; luckily these moods rarely last for very long.  Graciela was the last attorney to arrive, so I anticipated that we would not get in until sometime after 10.  This is why I always bring a book.

Potty-trained Preschooler on the loose

We managed to get Ashley potty-trained just in time for her to start going to Preschool this Wednesday.  She is enjoying it from what I can tell, and the teachers have mostly good things to say about her.  She loves to help clean up, but she has trouble keeping quiet during ‘rest time’.  She hasn’t had any accidents and doesn’t seem to be scrapping with any of the kids in her class.  This may be just the thing to help Ashley move onto the next step communication wise.  It would be nice if she started using full sentences to tell us what she needs or wants.  I just feel bad that I don’t get off early enough in the day to go and pick her up myself.  Mondays will be different though, if we continue going to visit Alberto as we have in the past.  I really don’t know how this is going to work out though, what I do know is that I’m going to have to think extra hard about where I need to go after work every day.

I received a letter in the mail on Friday from Alberto.  I love it when I get mail from Alberto because I know when he wrote that letter he was thinking of me.  I was just thinking the other day that I should get a nice box to put the letters in so I can keep them safe, although to be honest with myself they end up staying in my purse anyhow.  Alberto is miffed at me because I was supposed to call my mother-in-law this weekend to find out who is going with me to visit on Monday and I forgot as usual.  I happen to forget things all the damn time, usually if it involves something I don’t particularly want to do like call my mother-in-law.  I bet at this very moment I am forgetting something that I was supposed to do which will cause Alberto to become exasperated.  I do remember, since he reminded me tonight, that he requested that I find him a prayer book.  I found what I hope he was looking for on Amazon.com, and I’m somewhat irritated that shipping cost more than the book itself.  I think I’ll keep that little nugget to myself, Lord knows I don’t need to give Alberto any reasons to get annoyed with me since he’s proficient at that all by himself.  I’m also supposed to come up with song lyrics for him, but one of the bands he’s listed doesn’t appear to exist.  We’re already discussed this particular song and band, and he’s stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that he has the name misspelled.

Wonderful things come in small packages

Yesterday the mailman brought me something wonderful, a letter from Alberto!  Well actually it was three letters in a single envelope, but I was happy to have gotten something from him at all.  When he called me just as we were sitting down to dinner I got to tell him how happy it made me to get letters from him.  He jokingly asked me if I could read what he wrote, and I informed him I was an experienced interpreter of his letters.  The reason he asked me this question is that Alberto never finished high school and I believe his education more or less ended by the time he was 14.  His handwriting is poor at best and his spelling is pretty bad as well so it can be difficult to determine what he is trying to say.  He attended school here in the US for a couple of months to a year, but due to circumstances his family pulled him from school and sent him to work.  He told me several years ago that the reason he stopped going to school is because his cousins were trying to initiate him into their gang, Los Sureños, and his sisters intervened to save their youngest brother.  Knowing what I do about that particular gang and about his cousins, I am truly grateful that Yesica and Rosa moved to protect Alberto for their bad influence.  It was several months later that I actually met Alberto while working at McDonalds and our story began.  Anyway, in his letters he refers to me as mujer mia and mi amor several times which is probably the most romantic he’s ever been that I can recall.  I will say that it is difficult loving a Mexican man because the majority of them are constipated when it comes to emotions; it takes a laxative (beer) and great pain (the threat of a hangover) for them to confess their love.  Watch a George Lopez special, he does a bit about this and it wouldn’t be that funny if it wasn’t true.

I'm miffed that I can't go and see Alberto on Monday as we usually do because of the Holiday.  At this I have to admit that being in jail has apparently been good for Alberto since he’s found faith again after being without it for so long.  He writes to me about trusting in God and how he is content with just being about to see us after so long.  This change is mostly amazing to me since for years Alberto would only go to church on holy holidays and even then it was grudgingly.  Ok, so I promised myself that I wouldn’t get preachy because I know how much it irritates me when someone tries to force their beliefs or lack thereof down my throat.  I am not saying that my beliefs are better, but they are my beliefs and shall stay that way.  The first amendment to the Constitution was the freedom of religion, press, and expression.  With that said if you happen to pray, please take a moment and pray that justice may be served for us this coming week.