I’m not a Doctor, but I play one on WebMD

There are few things more irritating to medical professionals than people who believe that the internet somehow makes them more informed than the person who spent a decade in school learning medicine. While it is perfectly reasonable to do online research on a condition, if you google your cold symptoms or rash and become convinced that you have the bubonic plague or if you are using your iPhone to suggest possible diagnoses while a doctor is examining you, you need to put it away. The internet is a fabulous resource, but it also shows us that armed with a little bit of information, we can be dangerous.

That being said, I came a little too close to being this person this week. After a routine trip to the Veterinarian, we learned our dog has hookworms. In the ensuing two days, I placed no fewer than five phone calls to the Veterinarian and my kids’ Pediatrician. The first conversation to the vet assured me this was not dangerous, but that it needed to be treated and I needed to take some reasonable precautions to break the cycle. I gave the dog her first treatment. And a phone call to the Pediatrician got me prescriptions for prophylactic treatment for the kids; since they are boys and the weather is nice, they run barefoot through the same areas the worm-infested dog poops, but I’m still not too wound up about the whole thing.

And then I googled hookworm. First of all, they should not include pictures on these sites as the gross factor amplifies one’s response. Reading about worms is all well and good, but once you see what those little suckers look like, all reason goes right out the window. I called the Vet back with questions. When can I be sure they’re all dead? How long do I need to be an obsessive pooper-scooper? Can hookworms live in the dirt? Can chickens get them (because chickens poop everywhere)?

Treatment options for people include one drug, unfortunately it is one very expensive drug. Two pills (yes, pills, for my kids who don’t swallow pills) cost $105. That’s $315, just in case. And while I would happily pay just about anything after seeing the online pictures of the little fuckers, I wanted to be sure it would actually work. More phone calls to the Vet and the Pediatrician with more questions. Can I wait long enough to make sure the dog is free of worms before I treat the kids? I don’t want to be doing this $315 deworming thing more than once.

If I had simply stayed off the internet, I could have treated the dog, treated the kids, and it probably would have worked out fine, but now I am obsessing. I spread an entire container of diatomaceous earth throughout my yard (I’m not sure it kills hookworms, but it won’t hurt). My kids are going to be wearing shoes outside until they’re ready for college. And I walk through my yard looking for poop, as if I might at any moment step on a land mine.

And to think I could have avoided all of this by simply keeping up with the dog’s heartworm meds. Chalk that one up to a lesson learned the hard way.

The Problem With Technology

My kids have grown up in a technological era very different than my own. As a kid, the internet and cell phones did not exist. There was no such thing as wifi, and when I was in high school, we got our first word processor.

In comparison, my kids have never known life without all these things, except maybe the word processor. My ten-year-old saved up for his own iPod Touch. My four-year-old has been using my iPad (competently) since age two.

For the most part, these are good things; if they have a question their Dad or I can’t answer, there’s always Google. They have access to their music and games anytime they want (or more accurately, anytime I allow them), which makes things like long car rides and appointments far more enjoyable for all. They can keep in touch with distant family and friends using Face Time or Skype (we don’t do much of this, but they could).

Obviously, there are drawbacks to this constant access to everything and everyone and sometimes you just need to unplug for a bit. And then there’s youtube used for stuff you’d rather they don’t see, Facebook bullying, predatory online relationships, and that sort of stuff, but we’re not really there yet (except maybe a bit of the youtube crap).

What my kids really have to worry about that I did not, is how easy it is for their teachers and me to keep in contact. If I did something vaguely obnoxious as an Elementary school student of the 1980′s (which, of course, I did not), I might get a note sent home, but I might not. With 20 students in a class, the teacher might not even remember what it was that I had done by the end of the day. As children of the 21st century, my kids’ teachers have iPhones.

The note that accompanied this reads, “this is what Owen accomplished in 45 minutes of work.” I’m quite certain my mother never had to have a chat with me about my math to Pacman-doodle ratio.  

No Nap For You! Fifteen Years!

My kids are past the age when it is unsafe for me to take a nap when they are home and awake, but they are apparently not past the age when I can physically sleep with them home and awake. While I am reasonably certain they won’t play in traffic, set the house on fire, or drink a whole bottle of tylenol, they cannot seem to let me nap. My afternoon pre-work snooze was interrupted about six billion times, by things like:

-”Mommy, can you cut some cheese for my crackers.”

-”Mommy, look at my Lego _________. Isn’t it cool?”

-”Mommy, where’s my _____________?”

-”Mommy, can I have a snack?”

-”Mommy, when’s Jackie coming?”

-”Mommy, can you get my kilt down for me?” Followed by, “Mommy, how old do we have to be to wear a kilt in public without underwear?”

-”GUYS! STOP TALKING! MOMMY IS TRYING TO SLEEP!” Well, I was before you started screaming.

-”Mommy, what is this? Where did you get it?”

-”Mommy, can we go outside?” Yes. Please do.

-”Mommy, where’s Owen?”

-”Mommy, I love you.” I’d love you more if you let me sleep for more than 18 consecutive seconds.

I guess there’s always sleep tomorrow.

 

A Hungry Wannabe-Vegan Goes Grocery Shopping

Reblogged from You've Got Your Hands Full:

I know you're not supposed to go grocery shopping on an empty stomach, which I remembered while I was at Hannaford this afternoon. What I bought, however, doesn't exactly fit into the Doritos and Oreos stereotype.

I needed two things at the grocery store to make jalapeño popper dip for a party tomorrow. Before I left the house, I added half a dozen extra items to my list (hummus, salsa, American cheese, avocado, frozen pizza, etc).

Read more… 89 more words

Happy Mother’s Day

In honor of all you Moms out there, here is my wish for you on YOUR day.

A day free of the words, “Did you wipe? Did you flush? Did you wash your hands?”

A day in which Lego guys have all their appropriate pieces/body parts and you don’t have to search for anyone’s arms.

A day without vomit, poop, boogers, or giggling farts.

A day when all kids play happily together, taking turns, being kind to one another, and most importantly, not involving you because “somebody took the ________ they wanted.”

A day without homework.

A day in which kids eat every meal you make, not only without complaint, but also say thank you and tell you how good their food is.

A day full of magical toys and clothes that put themselves away without having to be asked thirteen times.

A day free of talk about Lego Ninjago or (insert appropriate recent annoying obsession here).

Hope you all have a wonderful day!

Big Discussions on a Sick Day

When my sister and I were little, we had a book that explained where babies come from and I can remember knowing this information from a very young age. I don’t ever remember sitting down with my Mom and having “a talk,” but I do remember that book.

For quite a while, I’ve known that I need to start talking about this stuff with Owen. I’ve never been a “the stork brings them” kind of person and I’ve always answered questions honestly, if not thoroughly. I’ve been telling myself that I’m just waiting for the right time, but truthfully I’ve been avoiding it.

The other day, Owen was home sick from school. We were reading The Subtle Knife together, a book with some big, serious ideas in it, though many of them go right over his head. We started talking about what the book is really about on a much deeper level, which as a English teacher in a former life, was as exciting to me as his first tooth. 

The conversation moved on to education, and school, and the inevitable, “why does school have to be so hard and boring?” As an energetic, almost ten-year-old boy with serious focus issues, the structure of school is tough for Owen. We talked about that. We talked about how his brain works and how he learns best. I brought up a nearby Charter School I had been looking into and we discussed whether or not Owen thought it would be a good place for him. 

This seemed like the perfect opportunity. Owen went into the kitchen and got a snack. I went to my desk and got an old A&P textbook and opened it to the page on the female reproductive system (we all know he has seen plenty of the male reproductive system) and I told him I was going to explain where babies come from. He looked at me and replied, “I don’t think I want to know,” but I continued anyway. He knows the whole babies grow in Mom’s belly from an egg part, so I started to explain the Dad’s part in it. I got as far as telling him that semen came out of a man’s penis and he declared, “this is gross. I don’t want to know any more.”

So I told him that if he ever had any questions, he should ask me or his Dad. I guess that’s a pretty good education for a sick day.

Kinezumi Bushi

Owen came home from karate this morning with the words Kinezumi Bushi written on a small piece of notebook paper. He told me the words were Japanese for his new karate nickname.

In kobudo, the weapons class he takes with a few other kids and several adults, they have been calling him Squirrel for the past few months. Like it or not, the name fits. Remember the dog from the movie, Up? The one that, mid-sentence, gets distracted, and says, “Squirrel?” That’s Owen.

Today he tells me that two other kids have the nicknames “King” and “Captain Awesome.” Justifiably so, he feels like he got the short stick when it comes to nicknames, so his karate teacher gave him a new nickname today: ”Squirrel Warrior.”

He’s pretty happy with it. He’s even hoping he can get his 4th grade teacher to call him Kinezumi Bushi. I guess you might as well embrace your nature.