I finally worked up the nerve to take the first belly photo:
The belly at 12 weeks, 6 days
Tootska wanted to get in on the photos too!
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Almost 13 weeks already!
Yesterday we had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Shrum to check in on Tolman Baby #2! I've gained about a pound since my last appointment and my blood pressure was good. We got to hear the little squirt's heartbeat with the doppler and it was a nice, strong, steady, 150 beats per minute! (Which apparently is perfectly normal for this gestational age.) Unlike our first try listening to Adalyn's heartbeat, Dr. Shrum was able to find this baby's heart rhythm pretty quickly. It was just as amazing this time as it was with Adalyn. You just can't help but get a little teary-eyed hearing that sound. According to the literature, TB#2 is about 3 inches long, weighs 1 ounce, and already has fingerprints!
I finally worked up the nerve to take the first belly photo:
I finally worked up the nerve to take the first belly photo:
Sunday, October 14, 2012
The Pinky Story
Sunday evening (October 7th, 2012), Adalyn and I were winding down and getting ready for bed. She had her bath and had just settled into our bed with her sippy cup of milk, ready to watch some Elmo and fall asleep. Adam had been at the drugstore all day working on building some shelves. As I found something for Adalyn to watch, I saw Ad's pick-up pull up and heard the sound of the garage door opening. What I heard next, however, were the words one never wants to hear, in a voice full of such panic, the words are still haunting me, "JEN WE HAVE TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW. I CUT MY FINGER."
At first I was in Jen mode,
- "Holy crap! Do you want me to take you or call the ambulance?!"
- "I DON'T CARE!"
That voice of panic set me into full-on clinical pharmacist mode. I was no longer the wife or mom, I was the health-care provider. In my best command voice, I told Ad to go sit in my car. I scooped up Adalyn (who by this time knew something was really wrong and was crying uncontrollably), thinking momentarily that she had hot chocolate spilled on her pajamas and no shoes on, but quickly moved those thoughts down the priority list, and loaded her into the car. I sprinted back to the house and grabbed her diaper bag hoping desperately it was packed well enough to get us through the night. I also filled a large cup of water for Ad, fearing his panic and loss of blood could lead to him losing consciousness.
I jumped into the car and told my crying family members that we were ALL going to be okay. As I pulled out of the driveway, Adalyn's crying ceased just long enough for her to throw up twice. I quickly moved that down the priority list as well, and just kept driving.
With shaking hands I dialed Roger. Again, in my command voice, "Roger, this is Jen. Adam had an accident with a skillsaw. We're on our way to the ER. Adalyn is throwing up. Will you please meet us there so you can take care of Adalyn?"
He agreed and I put the petal to the metal. I rubbed Ad's leg, saying over and over "It's going to be okay. We're all going to be okay." I reminded him every few minutes to drink the water, that I wanted him to keep his blood pressure up. He obliged and eventually finished it.
I finally had the nerve to ask, "Which hand?"
- "Left." Oh, good!
- "Which finger?"
- "Pinky." Oh, good!
- "Only one?"
- "Yes." Oh, good!
It was the fastest I've ever gotten to Ontario, but it was the longest 15 minutes of my life. We pulled into the parking lot right next to Roger and Carol. I left the car running and asked them to take the car with Adalyn home to get cleaned up. They agreed and Ad and I headed into the hospital.
Now for some reason, St. Al's Ontario has a poor reputation around here. People don't have very nice things to say about that hospital. But I'm here to set the record straight, the care and compassion we received while there was unmatched. We could not have asked for a better Emergency Room experience. One look at Ad and the receptionists immediately opened the door and led us to room number 14, labeled "Trauma." Within minutes the doctor was there assessing the situation and just a few short minutes later Adam's hand had been numbed. An IV of clindamycin was started, he was given a Tdap shot, and x-rays were ordered. All the ER staff took turns coming in to assess the damage (I'm sure it was the most excitement they'd seen in a while.)
Eventually, nurse Danielle came in and cleaned the wound. At that time I finally had the nerve to really look at his finger. It was cut at the middle knuckle, all the way through the bone. The medial skin of the finger was all that was holding it on. The end of the finger, dangling in a way no finger should dangle, had lost some of it's pink color and was a little ashen. It was terrifying.
Once it was all cleaned up, the doctor came in to really assess the damage. He poked and prodded, searching for each part to all the severed tendons, arteries and nerves. He explained that he believed only one of two arteries had been severed since the tip of the finger was still receiving perfusion. I asked about the ashen color of the finger and he explained it was likely because the veinous return was insufficient, causing the de-oxygenated blood to pool in the finger. Eventually, he very loosely stitched the finger into place, just to keep it from dangling through the night. He explained he had spoken with Dr. Watkins, a hand surgeon, who would see us in his office in Boise the next day. Dr. Bean whole-heartedly believed the finger could be saved and eventually fully functional. He allowed us to view the x-rays, which the x-ray technician interpreted as "dislocated fifth digit." (The doctor said he'd be following up with the technician on that one, since it was so obvious that the bone was completely severed.) Nurse Danielle returned to splint and bandage the hand and within two hours of arriving, we were out of there. We left feeling fairly optimistic with prescriptions for clindamycin and Norco.
We headed to Roger and Carol's to pick up the Toots who had been bathed, changed, and put to bed. We visited for awhile, then headed back to the drugstore. There was a lot of cleaning to be done before the store could be opened for business just 8 hours later. Adalyn woke up when we arrived there and happily helped us the entire time. I filled Ad's prescriptions, vacuumed, and cleaned up blood while he and Adalyn put away saws and boards. We worked about an hour an a half, then finally headed home. My head hit the pillow at about 2:00 am.
I was up with a nervous stomach at 5:30, anxious to get all my ducks in a row before what was sure to be a very long day. I packed an overnight bag for Adam and I in case of a stay in Boise, emailed my mom to tell her what happened and see if she and Papa could take care of Adalyn, readied my President's supplies for the P.E.O. meeting that evening, gathered phone numbers of folks we would need to contact throughout the day, prepared Adalyn's bag to go to the babysitter's house and tried calling the doctor's office, only to find out they didn't open until 9:00 am. One can be very efficient when she needs to be.
By 8:30 we were out the door, taking Adalyn to Barbara's house. We stopped by the drugstore to tie up our loose ends, called the doctor's office again, then headed to Boise for Adam's 11:15 appointment with the hand surgeon, Dr. Watkins.
Dr. Watkins cut straight to the chase - I don't think he even introduced himself or shook our hands. He had obviously already studied Ad's case because he jumped right in.
- "I don't see how it's even possible for one artery to still be in tact given the extent of this injury."
- "The ER doc said that finger was still pink, but I knew it couldn't be, look at that ashen color. "
- "Now if this had been a kitchen knife it'd be one thing, but we're talking an 1/8 inch saw blade taking a swath through your pinky. 1/8 inch in a knee is nothing, but in a pinky? That's A LOT."
- "Twenty years ago I'd have told you I could get right in there and put it back together, but now I'm a realist. Survival does not mean success."
- "This is a little pinky on a non-dominant hand. There's only so much we can do."
I looked over at Ad and could see his horror. All of the color had drained from his face and my heart just sunk. The reality that he could lose his finger hit us like a truck.
Dr. Watkins is most obviously an expert in his field; hands. It had never occurred to me that such a specialty even exists. He went on to explain hand anatomy in very great detail. He walked us through every step of the repair process, assuming all the parts were still in tact and repairable. He made it pretty clear however, that he did not think they would be. I finally cut in and asked, "So what you're saying is, you'd like us to give you the liberty to amputate during the surgery if you feel the damage is beyond repair?" I don't think he ever gave me a straight yes answer, but it was clear he would do so whether we gave him the liberty or not.
He spoke about where on the finger an amputation would occur. He acknowledged that for us it would seem obvious that the goal would be to retain as much length in the finger as possible. However, he explained, often people are unhappy with such an amputation because the remaining part of the finger gets jammed into the edges of things or caught up in pockets. The most functional amputation is removal of the entire digit down to the wrist. This results in a narrowed hand and fewer obstacles. We made it very clear to him we were not prepared for that type of amputation.
As we wrapped up the appointment, Dr. Watkins assured us he would do all he could to save the finger. If it was determined that it couldn't be saved, he would meet me in the waiting room to explain before continuing with an amputation. We were instructed to check in at St. Alphonsus at 4:00 pm with surgery scheduled for 6:00 pm. We were told to plan for an overnight stay at the hospital.
We headed to the mall to kill some time since we had about four hours until we needed to check in. I picked at some lunch (Ad wasn't allowed to eat since he'd be having anesthesia) then we shopped around for awhile. We found a couple of sweatshirts for Ad with stretchy wristbands that could fit over his bulky bandage. Eventually we tired of shopping and headed for hospital, arriving at about 3:15.
We went through surgical pre-admissions to complete the required paperwork then headed upstairs to get prepped for surgery. They completed all the required documentation and started an IV. The anesthesiologist came in to explain what she'd been doing and to get a little more information about Ad. Prior to the surgery, she would perform an axillary nerve block of the left arm. Making the entire arm numb would allow them to avoid the use of such heavy sedation that Ad would have to be intubated. This way, the sedation could be lighter and he'd just sort of sleep through the surgery. It would make for a much easier recovery. I asked if I could observe the nerve block procedure and she said that would be fine.
Ad was wheeled to another room for the nerve block procedure. First the site of injection was cleaned thoroughly, then Ad received midazolam and fentanyl in his IV. Within moments he was very sleepy and asking if he could close his eyes. The anesthesiologist used an ultrasound to visualize the space within the joint and pointed out the arteries and veins (and how to tell the difference) as well as the different nerves. She used lidocaine to numb the site of injection, then used a very large needle (probably 4 inches long) to enter the joint space. Then, very carefully, she manipulated the needle all around the joint space near the nerves and injected small amounts of the nerve block agent which I believe was ropivacaine. The procedure took about 10 minutes and about the time she finished up, Ad was waking up. He was shocked to find his arm completely numb. "When did that happen?!"
We waited some time for Dr. Watkins to arrive. We tried to keep the mood light and spoke optimistically about coming home with all 10 fingers. Eventually, Dr. Watkins showed up and initialed Ad's operative arm. We spoke briefly, then Ad was wheeled to the operating room and I headed to the cafeteria. I picked at a salad and texted all the people who knew what was going on. By this time, my phone was begging to be plugged in, so I headed to the car to charge it for a few minutes. As I sat there gathering the items we'd need for our overnight stay, my phone rang, "Mrs. Tolman? This is nurse so and so from the O.R., Dr. Watkins would like to speak with you in the waiting room."
Oh crap! It's only 45 minutes into surgery! This can't be good.
I told myself out loud, "Keep it together, Jen."
Dr. Watkins was waiting for me in the waiting room. He pulled out his phone and showed me the photos he had taken of Ad's finger with it all splayed open. He sketched on the pants of his scrubs explaining which parts of the bone were missing, that all the cartilage in the joint was gone, and how he couldn't even find the second part to one of the arteries. His suspicions had been confirmed, both arteries had been severed and the tip of the finger was receiving perfusion from a small branch of an artery.
You know when a person is thinking real hard and searching their mind for an answer, how their eyes dart back and forth as though they're searching a bookshelf for the right book? That's what he was doing. I could tell he was searching desperately through his 30 years of experience for some way to save this one little finger, but he just couldn't find it. He discussed the reasons fusing the bone wouldn't work as well as all the other possible solutions. The bottom line was, there was too much damage to save the finger.
Once I had digested that, I made sure I was absolutely clear on what type of amputation would be performed. I held up my hand with my pinky finger bent at the middle knuckle, "We're talking about it looking like this, right? Because Ad made it VERY clear to me he wasn't ready for a more drastic amputation."
"Sweety," he looked at me with such kind eyes,"he's not ready, you're not ready, and neither am I. We'll cross that bridge if we get to it in the future." And just like that, he was gone, headed back to the O.R. to remove a part of my husband's body. That's when I finally lost it. I sat in that lonely waiting room, feeling no longer like a pharmacist, but just a sympathetic wife, feeling so sad for my husband's loss. I replayed the events of the previous 24 hours over in my mind again and again and again. I dreaded seeing the look on Ad's face when he was told the outcome of the surgery.
Within an hour, the doctor returned and said everything went according to plan. There would no longer be a need for an overnight stay, and we could go home that night. He would have us continue the antibiotics a couple more days and assured me the remainder of Ad's Norco prescription would be more than enough. I was instructed to call the office the next day and make an appointment for Ad to follow-up with him in Fruitland in 2 weeks. He was so casual about things and seemed completely unfazed by the fact he had just removed part of a man's hand. He acted like he was ready to head home so I asked, desperately, with tears welling up in my eyes, "Aren't you going to talk to Ad? Tell him what had to be done? Please, I can't be the one to tell him."
At first his response was, "He won't remember anything I tell him. There's really no point." But after seeing how upset I was, he said, "Tell you what - I'll mill around the hospital awhile longer. I'll finish my dictation and complete some paperwork then go check on him. If he's awake, I'll tell him about the surgery."
I breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you!"
I headed back to the car to get a change of clothes for me and clothes for Ad to wear home. I changed my clothes then returned to the waiting room. Dr. Watkins returned looking astounded. "Well, Adam's fully awake and alert. He took the news pretty well. I showed him the pictures and gave him the full detailed report. They'll take him to the floor soon. You can meet him there and he'll be discharged shortly."
I shook the doctor's hand and thanked him for his care. I told him I appreciated how quickly he was able to see Adam and perform the surgery. He smiled at me with his kind eyes and was off.
I was so relieved to not have to be the one to tell Ad his finger was gone. Awhile later I was told Ad's room assignment and headed to the fifth floor to meet him. It was finally starting to feel like this nightmare was behind us. When he arrived, he was quite alert. He didn't look as sad as I expected. His main concern was hunger. He mowed through the crackers and popsicle in nothing flat and made short work of the TV dinner they brought him next. Eventually they removed his IV and let him change back into his clothes. By about 10:30 pm we were loading him into the car.
We made a quick stop at McDonald's for a little more to eat, then headed toward home. Once we finally arrived, we hugged for a very long time. He said, "I'm so glad you're the one going through all this with me." I said, "Yeah, we make a pretty good team." We were so thankful the ordeal was behind us and that it didn't turn out nearly as terribly as it could have. We were able to acknowledge that it was a horrible thing to go through, but nothing compared with what some people face every day.
Adam is now on the mend and adjusting to a shorter finger. He hasn't required pain medication for several days and is beginning to regain some range of motion. Life in the Tolman house is getting back to normal. Thank goodness!
At first I was in Jen mode,
- "Holy crap! Do you want me to take you or call the ambulance?!"
- "I DON'T CARE!"
That voice of panic set me into full-on clinical pharmacist mode. I was no longer the wife or mom, I was the health-care provider. In my best command voice, I told Ad to go sit in my car. I scooped up Adalyn (who by this time knew something was really wrong and was crying uncontrollably), thinking momentarily that she had hot chocolate spilled on her pajamas and no shoes on, but quickly moved those thoughts down the priority list, and loaded her into the car. I sprinted back to the house and grabbed her diaper bag hoping desperately it was packed well enough to get us through the night. I also filled a large cup of water for Ad, fearing his panic and loss of blood could lead to him losing consciousness.
I jumped into the car and told my crying family members that we were ALL going to be okay. As I pulled out of the driveway, Adalyn's crying ceased just long enough for her to throw up twice. I quickly moved that down the priority list as well, and just kept driving.
With shaking hands I dialed Roger. Again, in my command voice, "Roger, this is Jen. Adam had an accident with a skillsaw. We're on our way to the ER. Adalyn is throwing up. Will you please meet us there so you can take care of Adalyn?"
He agreed and I put the petal to the metal. I rubbed Ad's leg, saying over and over "It's going to be okay. We're all going to be okay." I reminded him every few minutes to drink the water, that I wanted him to keep his blood pressure up. He obliged and eventually finished it.
I finally had the nerve to ask, "Which hand?"
- "Left." Oh, good!
- "Which finger?"
- "Pinky." Oh, good!
- "Only one?"
- "Yes." Oh, good!
It was the fastest I've ever gotten to Ontario, but it was the longest 15 minutes of my life. We pulled into the parking lot right next to Roger and Carol. I left the car running and asked them to take the car with Adalyn home to get cleaned up. They agreed and Ad and I headed into the hospital.
Now for some reason, St. Al's Ontario has a poor reputation around here. People don't have very nice things to say about that hospital. But I'm here to set the record straight, the care and compassion we received while there was unmatched. We could not have asked for a better Emergency Room experience. One look at Ad and the receptionists immediately opened the door and led us to room number 14, labeled "Trauma." Within minutes the doctor was there assessing the situation and just a few short minutes later Adam's hand had been numbed. An IV of clindamycin was started, he was given a Tdap shot, and x-rays were ordered. All the ER staff took turns coming in to assess the damage (I'm sure it was the most excitement they'd seen in a while.)
Eventually, nurse Danielle came in and cleaned the wound. At that time I finally had the nerve to really look at his finger. It was cut at the middle knuckle, all the way through the bone. The medial skin of the finger was all that was holding it on. The end of the finger, dangling in a way no finger should dangle, had lost some of it's pink color and was a little ashen. It was terrifying.
Once it was all cleaned up, the doctor came in to really assess the damage. He poked and prodded, searching for each part to all the severed tendons, arteries and nerves. He explained that he believed only one of two arteries had been severed since the tip of the finger was still receiving perfusion. I asked about the ashen color of the finger and he explained it was likely because the veinous return was insufficient, causing the de-oxygenated blood to pool in the finger. Eventually, he very loosely stitched the finger into place, just to keep it from dangling through the night. He explained he had spoken with Dr. Watkins, a hand surgeon, who would see us in his office in Boise the next day. Dr. Bean whole-heartedly believed the finger could be saved and eventually fully functional. He allowed us to view the x-rays, which the x-ray technician interpreted as "dislocated fifth digit." (The doctor said he'd be following up with the technician on that one, since it was so obvious that the bone was completely severed.) Nurse Danielle returned to splint and bandage the hand and within two hours of arriving, we were out of there. We left feeling fairly optimistic with prescriptions for clindamycin and Norco.
We headed to Roger and Carol's to pick up the Toots who had been bathed, changed, and put to bed. We visited for awhile, then headed back to the drugstore. There was a lot of cleaning to be done before the store could be opened for business just 8 hours later. Adalyn woke up when we arrived there and happily helped us the entire time. I filled Ad's prescriptions, vacuumed, and cleaned up blood while he and Adalyn put away saws and boards. We worked about an hour an a half, then finally headed home. My head hit the pillow at about 2:00 am.
I was up with a nervous stomach at 5:30, anxious to get all my ducks in a row before what was sure to be a very long day. I packed an overnight bag for Adam and I in case of a stay in Boise, emailed my mom to tell her what happened and see if she and Papa could take care of Adalyn, readied my President's supplies for the P.E.O. meeting that evening, gathered phone numbers of folks we would need to contact throughout the day, prepared Adalyn's bag to go to the babysitter's house and tried calling the doctor's office, only to find out they didn't open until 9:00 am. One can be very efficient when she needs to be.
By 8:30 we were out the door, taking Adalyn to Barbara's house. We stopped by the drugstore to tie up our loose ends, called the doctor's office again, then headed to Boise for Adam's 11:15 appointment with the hand surgeon, Dr. Watkins.
Dr. Watkins cut straight to the chase - I don't think he even introduced himself or shook our hands. He had obviously already studied Ad's case because he jumped right in.
- "I don't see how it's even possible for one artery to still be in tact given the extent of this injury."
- "The ER doc said that finger was still pink, but I knew it couldn't be, look at that ashen color. "
- "Now if this had been a kitchen knife it'd be one thing, but we're talking an 1/8 inch saw blade taking a swath through your pinky. 1/8 inch in a knee is nothing, but in a pinky? That's A LOT."
- "Twenty years ago I'd have told you I could get right in there and put it back together, but now I'm a realist. Survival does not mean success."
- "This is a little pinky on a non-dominant hand. There's only so much we can do."
I looked over at Ad and could see his horror. All of the color had drained from his face and my heart just sunk. The reality that he could lose his finger hit us like a truck.
Dr. Watkins is most obviously an expert in his field; hands. It had never occurred to me that such a specialty even exists. He went on to explain hand anatomy in very great detail. He walked us through every step of the repair process, assuming all the parts were still in tact and repairable. He made it pretty clear however, that he did not think they would be. I finally cut in and asked, "So what you're saying is, you'd like us to give you the liberty to amputate during the surgery if you feel the damage is beyond repair?" I don't think he ever gave me a straight yes answer, but it was clear he would do so whether we gave him the liberty or not.
He spoke about where on the finger an amputation would occur. He acknowledged that for us it would seem obvious that the goal would be to retain as much length in the finger as possible. However, he explained, often people are unhappy with such an amputation because the remaining part of the finger gets jammed into the edges of things or caught up in pockets. The most functional amputation is removal of the entire digit down to the wrist. This results in a narrowed hand and fewer obstacles. We made it very clear to him we were not prepared for that type of amputation.
As we wrapped up the appointment, Dr. Watkins assured us he would do all he could to save the finger. If it was determined that it couldn't be saved, he would meet me in the waiting room to explain before continuing with an amputation. We were instructed to check in at St. Alphonsus at 4:00 pm with surgery scheduled for 6:00 pm. We were told to plan for an overnight stay at the hospital.
We headed to the mall to kill some time since we had about four hours until we needed to check in. I picked at some lunch (Ad wasn't allowed to eat since he'd be having anesthesia) then we shopped around for awhile. We found a couple of sweatshirts for Ad with stretchy wristbands that could fit over his bulky bandage. Eventually we tired of shopping and headed for hospital, arriving at about 3:15.
We went through surgical pre-admissions to complete the required paperwork then headed upstairs to get prepped for surgery. They completed all the required documentation and started an IV. The anesthesiologist came in to explain what she'd been doing and to get a little more information about Ad. Prior to the surgery, she would perform an axillary nerve block of the left arm. Making the entire arm numb would allow them to avoid the use of such heavy sedation that Ad would have to be intubated. This way, the sedation could be lighter and he'd just sort of sleep through the surgery. It would make for a much easier recovery. I asked if I could observe the nerve block procedure and she said that would be fine.
Ad was wheeled to another room for the nerve block procedure. First the site of injection was cleaned thoroughly, then Ad received midazolam and fentanyl in his IV. Within moments he was very sleepy and asking if he could close his eyes. The anesthesiologist used an ultrasound to visualize the space within the joint and pointed out the arteries and veins (and how to tell the difference) as well as the different nerves. She used lidocaine to numb the site of injection, then used a very large needle (probably 4 inches long) to enter the joint space. Then, very carefully, she manipulated the needle all around the joint space near the nerves and injected small amounts of the nerve block agent which I believe was ropivacaine. The procedure took about 10 minutes and about the time she finished up, Ad was waking up. He was shocked to find his arm completely numb. "When did that happen?!"
Feeling sleepy and a little silly
We waited some time for Dr. Watkins to arrive. We tried to keep the mood light and spoke optimistically about coming home with all 10 fingers. Eventually, Dr. Watkins showed up and initialed Ad's operative arm. We spoke briefly, then Ad was wheeled to the operating room and I headed to the cafeteria. I picked at a salad and texted all the people who knew what was going on. By this time, my phone was begging to be plugged in, so I headed to the car to charge it for a few minutes. As I sat there gathering the items we'd need for our overnight stay, my phone rang, "Mrs. Tolman? This is nurse so and so from the O.R., Dr. Watkins would like to speak with you in the waiting room."
Oh crap! It's only 45 minutes into surgery! This can't be good.
I told myself out loud, "Keep it together, Jen."
Dr. Watkins was waiting for me in the waiting room. He pulled out his phone and showed me the photos he had taken of Ad's finger with it all splayed open. He sketched on the pants of his scrubs explaining which parts of the bone were missing, that all the cartilage in the joint was gone, and how he couldn't even find the second part to one of the arteries. His suspicions had been confirmed, both arteries had been severed and the tip of the finger was receiving perfusion from a small branch of an artery.
You know when a person is thinking real hard and searching their mind for an answer, how their eyes dart back and forth as though they're searching a bookshelf for the right book? That's what he was doing. I could tell he was searching desperately through his 30 years of experience for some way to save this one little finger, but he just couldn't find it. He discussed the reasons fusing the bone wouldn't work as well as all the other possible solutions. The bottom line was, there was too much damage to save the finger.
Once I had digested that, I made sure I was absolutely clear on what type of amputation would be performed. I held up my hand with my pinky finger bent at the middle knuckle, "We're talking about it looking like this, right? Because Ad made it VERY clear to me he wasn't ready for a more drastic amputation."
"Sweety," he looked at me with such kind eyes,"he's not ready, you're not ready, and neither am I. We'll cross that bridge if we get to it in the future." And just like that, he was gone, headed back to the O.R. to remove a part of my husband's body. That's when I finally lost it. I sat in that lonely waiting room, feeling no longer like a pharmacist, but just a sympathetic wife, feeling so sad for my husband's loss. I replayed the events of the previous 24 hours over in my mind again and again and again. I dreaded seeing the look on Ad's face when he was told the outcome of the surgery.
Within an hour, the doctor returned and said everything went according to plan. There would no longer be a need for an overnight stay, and we could go home that night. He would have us continue the antibiotics a couple more days and assured me the remainder of Ad's Norco prescription would be more than enough. I was instructed to call the office the next day and make an appointment for Ad to follow-up with him in Fruitland in 2 weeks. He was so casual about things and seemed completely unfazed by the fact he had just removed part of a man's hand. He acted like he was ready to head home so I asked, desperately, with tears welling up in my eyes, "Aren't you going to talk to Ad? Tell him what had to be done? Please, I can't be the one to tell him."
At first his response was, "He won't remember anything I tell him. There's really no point." But after seeing how upset I was, he said, "Tell you what - I'll mill around the hospital awhile longer. I'll finish my dictation and complete some paperwork then go check on him. If he's awake, I'll tell him about the surgery."
I breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you!"
I headed back to the car to get a change of clothes for me and clothes for Ad to wear home. I changed my clothes then returned to the waiting room. Dr. Watkins returned looking astounded. "Well, Adam's fully awake and alert. He took the news pretty well. I showed him the pictures and gave him the full detailed report. They'll take him to the floor soon. You can meet him there and he'll be discharged shortly."
I shook the doctor's hand and thanked him for his care. I told him I appreciated how quickly he was able to see Adam and perform the surgery. He smiled at me with his kind eyes and was off.
I was so relieved to not have to be the one to tell Ad his finger was gone. Awhile later I was told Ad's room assignment and headed to the fifth floor to meet him. It was finally starting to feel like this nightmare was behind us. When he arrived, he was quite alert. He didn't look as sad as I expected. His main concern was hunger. He mowed through the crackers and popsicle in nothing flat and made short work of the TV dinner they brought him next. Eventually they removed his IV and let him change back into his clothes. By about 10:30 pm we were loading him into the car.
We made a quick stop at McDonald's for a little more to eat, then headed toward home. Once we finally arrived, we hugged for a very long time. He said, "I'm so glad you're the one going through all this with me." I said, "Yeah, we make a pretty good team." We were so thankful the ordeal was behind us and that it didn't turn out nearly as terribly as it could have. We were able to acknowledge that it was a horrible thing to go through, but nothing compared with what some people face every day.
Adam is now on the mend and adjusting to a shorter finger. He hasn't required pain medication for several days and is beginning to regain some range of motion. Life in the Tolman house is getting back to normal. Thank goodness!
Monday, October 1, 2012
Tolman Baby Number Two
It is my extreme delight to announce that we will be welcoming another little Tolman into our family,
due April 24,2013!
We found out August 12, 2012 that this little one would be joining our family. Prior to the big birthday bash on Saturday, we celebrated Adalyn's birthday Friday the 17th with just our parents at our house for dinner. Adalyn opened her gifts from us; the last one (in keeping with the owl theme of her birthday) was this t-shirt:
Our parents were surprised to find out in this way, but I think they each suspected the news would come eventually. We chose to keep our big news a secret from everyone else until after our first doctor's appointment. Boy, it's tough keeping a fun secret like that!
Our first doctor's appointment was September 19, 2012 and everything checked out perfectly. Tolman Baby #2 was measuring about 2 days ahead of schedule at 9 weeks, 2 days. We could see the fluttering heartbeat and even the movement of tiny hands and feet!
All my vitals and labs checked out right where they should be. We had a nice long talk with our Doctor, Dr. Shrum (same doctor as last time, new last name). It was fun to see her and her nurse Ceedy again! We discussed diet, exercise, sequential screening, the pros and cons of another c-section, etc. We left the appointment feeling great and excited to share our news!
So far for me, this pregnancy has been much like the last; pretty great! I've had no nausea, and really nothing to complain about at all. I'm pretty tired and find myself eating more often. I've had a couple dizzy spells while on my feet at work, but other than that everything's been great! The main difference from the last time is how much I'm showing! Those abdominal muscles just aren't the same after a pregnancy, are they? On a bad day, you'd probably think I'm five months pregnant! I'm not ready to post photos of the growing belly quite yet. But don't worry, I'll start giving a weekly (or so) update once we really get into it.
Adalyn seems to grasp the concept of being a big sister. Lately she's been talking about her baby sister. Sometimes Baby Sister is in Mom's tummy, and sometimes in Adalyn's tummy (thankfully never in Dad's tummy!). It will be interesting to find out whether it's a baby sister or brother that she gets! Either way, Tolman Baby #2 is going to be lovingly welcomed into our family! We're so excited!
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Girls' Weekend in Arizona
Amber, Heidi, and Lo have been friends since Kindergarten. I joined the mix when I moved to town in middle school and we've been friends ever since. We were on the dance team together in high school, went to college in neighboring towns, and have made an effort to get together every year or so since. This year's get together was our "Turning 30" vacation since we'll all be turning 30 within the next year (actually one of us already is 30, but I'm not telling who!). Anyway, we decided to meet up in Sedona, Arizona where Lo was working for the summer. It turned out to be a fantastic decision!
Amber, Heidi and I all flew in to Phoenix and met up at the airport. We rented a car (a cherry red Chevy HHR, ugh!) and made our way north to Sedona, about a 2 hour drive.
We got ourselves settled into our room at the beautiful Enchantment Resort then headed back into town to meet up with Lo!
She treated us to dinner at Picazzo's, a fantastic pizza place! We spent the evening visiting and catching up.
Saturday morning we enjoyed a lazy morning in our room,then headed to Flagstaff, Arizona where we had reservations for the adventure course at Flagstaff Extreme!
We had SO MUCH FUN navigating the ropes course! Our adventure was called off early due to lightening, but we were given rain checks to redeem the following day. We ended our day with dinner in Flagstaff and wandered around the cute shops in the downtown area.
We were up the next morning with no agenda. We enjoyed a fantastic breakfast in Sedona, then opted for a nice hike around Cathedral Rock.
As we headed back to the car, we could see the daily afternoon storm rolling in. Lo told us stories about her days on the search and rescue team as we watched the lightening flash all around us. When a flash of lightening and ear-splitting crack of thunder occurred simultaneously just above us, we decided it was time to hunker down and wait out the storm. After hearing some of Lo's search and rescue stories, something about being on an open rock face didn't seem real wise at the time. We all nervously crouched in the dirt for a few minutes until we had determined the storm had passed. By that time, it was pouring rain, so we finished our hike much more quickly than we started it. The dry wash we crossed on the way in had become a two foot deep "raging" stream, and made our little hike even that much more of an adventure! Those typhoons are really something!
After all that adventuring, we headed back to Enchantment to relax by the pool for a couple hours before getting gussied up for our final dinner together. For the the fourth time in two days, that crazy Arizona weather changed our plans again! As we sat around the pool sipping cocktails, we watched yet another storm roll in. And let me tell you something, those Arizona storms move fast! We could literally see the wall of rain coming at us. Of course, loving a little adventure, we didn't head back to our room until the familiar flash of lightening and ear-splitting crack of thunder occurred simultaneously once again. By that time the wall of water had reached us, so we sprinted back to our room through the rain, giggling and shrieking the entire way.
By that time, the power at the resort was out, so our reservations at the hotel restaurant were canceled. But, we improvised and headed back to Sedona for a fantastic final meal! It was the perfect way to end a fantastic girls' weekend!
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