Meditations on “Love is Kind”
What is kindness? Part of it is obeying the Golden Rule: “Do unto others what you would have them do unto you.” Another part of it is putting others’ needs ahead of my own.
How can I be kind to my spouse? By remembering her needs, actively seeking out ways that I can help her. By always using a gentle tone of voice, not being sarcastic, not trying to get in verbal digs.
How can I be kind to my children? Listening to them. Focusing on their needs. Playing games with them, even when I’m tired. Not raising my voice.
How can I be kind to those at work? Doing my tasks quickly and well. Using a pleasant tone of voice. Not trying to make others feel guilty when they have done something that I wouldn’t have.
How can I be kind to those at church? Choose songs that the congregation likes, rather than just the ones that I like. Treat them as more important and closer to God than I am. Honor them. Find out their needs and then meet them. This requires reaching out and getting to know them.
Kindness is hard work. I think that it most often is tested in family circumstances: between husband and wife, parent and child, and sibling. Being constantly kind to those we are around 24 hours a day can be one of the hardest tests God ever gives us, but if we aren’t kind, we aren’t fulfilling the second greatest commandment.
--DJ
Monday, February 26, 2007
Meditations on "Love is Patient"
On the Sunday before Lent, I had the privilege of preaching on the Love chapter, I Corinthians 13. It’s one of those passages that tends to become clichéd and overused, like John 3:16. In reading through it again in preparation for the sermon, though, I was inspired anew by it. I think it’s one of the best passages that St. Paul ever wrote.
Each week of Lent, I’m spending time meditating on a phrase from that chapter. For one of my seminary classes, Spiritual Formation III, I’ve been trying to meditate more. It’s hard work. It’s very difficult to focus on something for more than a couple minutes, because my mind is so undisciplined in this area. For example, I’ll decide to think about how Jesus demonstrated patience with His disciples, and within a minute or two, my mind has wandered off to what is coming up at work. I told my Spiritual Formation class at our retreat last weekend that if I can meditate for three minutes, I consider it a success. And yet there are some Christians who can lose themselves in contemplation of God’s goodness and love for hours at a time, just basking in His presence.
I’m going to try posting thoughts from these meditations on love each week or so. Here’s the first one, “Love is patient.”
The Trinity demonstrates patience. God the Father is not willing that any should perish, so He does not destroy the world. He always gives second (and third) chances. God the Son was patient with His disciples. They always seemed to be missing the point of His parables and squabbling among themselves. He never got upset with them, just called them higher. God the Holy Spirit is patient with us. It is his job to see that we are conformed in the image of Christ, and yet we resist Him, either actively or passively, so much of the time. He never gives up, always training our conscience and our will to become more like Jesus.
I am to be patient with others. The area I most need to work on this is interacting with my children. This is especially true for S. I tend to think of him as the same age as A, which he’s not; he’s a year and a half younger. And yet I expect of him basically what I expect of A. This is unfair to him and just leads to frustration on my part. I need to be patient and allow him to function as himself, not his sister.
--DJ
Each week of Lent, I’m spending time meditating on a phrase from that chapter. For one of my seminary classes, Spiritual Formation III, I’ve been trying to meditate more. It’s hard work. It’s very difficult to focus on something for more than a couple minutes, because my mind is so undisciplined in this area. For example, I’ll decide to think about how Jesus demonstrated patience with His disciples, and within a minute or two, my mind has wandered off to what is coming up at work. I told my Spiritual Formation class at our retreat last weekend that if I can meditate for three minutes, I consider it a success. And yet there are some Christians who can lose themselves in contemplation of God’s goodness and love for hours at a time, just basking in His presence.
I’m going to try posting thoughts from these meditations on love each week or so. Here’s the first one, “Love is patient.”
The Trinity demonstrates patience. God the Father is not willing that any should perish, so He does not destroy the world. He always gives second (and third) chances. God the Son was patient with His disciples. They always seemed to be missing the point of His parables and squabbling among themselves. He never got upset with them, just called them higher. God the Holy Spirit is patient with us. It is his job to see that we are conformed in the image of Christ, and yet we resist Him, either actively or passively, so much of the time. He never gives up, always training our conscience and our will to become more like Jesus.
I am to be patient with others. The area I most need to work on this is interacting with my children. This is especially true for S. I tend to think of him as the same age as A, which he’s not; he’s a year and a half younger. And yet I expect of him basically what I expect of A. This is unfair to him and just leads to frustration on my part. I need to be patient and allow him to function as himself, not his sister.
--DJ
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Mundania X
(and henceforth I shall dispense with Roman numerals to avoid the Super Bowl syndrome)
* Welcome to the world... Micah James arrived today, to the relief of his very pregnant mother, my sister Rosemary. He's her third, but her first boy, so it's pretty special.
* Welcome home, I hope... In NH news, Jackson has spent five nights in the hospital with RSV. We hope he's going home today. Meanwhile, Tucker has been persistently sick and has lost weight, and during the same time Jed and Chloe got the throwing-up flu. An angel of mercy (as Jill termed it) in the form of our mother-in-law has been on hand to help ensure survival until all this passes.
* Can you spell ADDICTIVE... We're great fans of popcap.com, but almost strictly for their free game trials. Our resolve crumbled after several rounds of "Bookworm Adventure," and we used Christmas money to buy the full version. Not only do you get to spell words (like resolve, crumbled, and a personal victory "vaccinated"), but you get to whomp and crush enemies like minotaurs, Dracula, and banshees. It's an all-family obsession (ooh! good word!), with even Stuart offering strategy advice. I think of myself as a fairly non-competitive person, but found myself working feverishly (ooh! another one!) to stay ahead of Darren. Because Darren is, as usual, just slightly better at it than I am.
* Tomorrow it begins... Ash Wednesday has come around yet again, and Lent settles in for its long stay. This year, while I'm limiting my computer time and giving up computer games altogether -- alas, we must part, Bookworm -- I am not giving up blogging. Blogging has gone from a hobby on the side to a very real way to maintain my friendships, and my husband didn't think it was a good idea to give it up. Ha, neither did I. In addition to giving up, Darren and I are focusing on ways to "give" -- money to charity, more time in prayer, etc. We've explained this to Addie and Stuart. Addie has declared that she'll make our bed every day, and that she'll give up two days of shopping. Okey-dokey.
* Self-expression... Daphne has developed an endearing new habit: screaming. This isn't baby-screaming, the irrational wailing of an upset infant. This is, "Hey, I want to be picked up NOW -- SKREEEEEE!" This morning I started tapping her cheek and saying, "No!" She seemed to understand the message. Addie and Stuart were pretty impressed to see Daphne get reprimanded.
* Postcards... arrived a few days ago from Darren's grandmother. Lovely shots of ships in Halifax harbor. Thank you, Grandma. I plan to frame one of them, and then hope to put the rest in a frame for Darren's office. He loves ships -- it's his maritime blood.
* Snow, snow, go away... We got a mildly good snowfall last week, but then it rained and then it got cold and then it didn't warm up like usual. So we've had snow and ice on the ground for a week. We got a couple of snow days out of the deal, but eventually snow gets really monochromatic. Which I remedied partly by sending the kids out with water colors to paint on the ice, but I'm ready for it to go away now. The weather is paying as much attention to me as usual.
-- SJ
* Welcome to the world... Micah James arrived today, to the relief of his very pregnant mother, my sister Rosemary. He's her third, but her first boy, so it's pretty special.
* Welcome home, I hope... In NH news, Jackson has spent five nights in the hospital with RSV. We hope he's going home today. Meanwhile, Tucker has been persistently sick and has lost weight, and during the same time Jed and Chloe got the throwing-up flu. An angel of mercy (as Jill termed it) in the form of our mother-in-law has been on hand to help ensure survival until all this passes.
* Can you spell ADDICTIVE... We're great fans of popcap.com, but almost strictly for their free game trials. Our resolve crumbled after several rounds of "Bookworm Adventure," and we used Christmas money to buy the full version. Not only do you get to spell words (like resolve, crumbled, and a personal victory "vaccinated"), but you get to whomp and crush enemies like minotaurs, Dracula, and banshees. It's an all-family obsession (ooh! good word!), with even Stuart offering strategy advice. I think of myself as a fairly non-competitive person, but found myself working feverishly (ooh! another one!) to stay ahead of Darren. Because Darren is, as usual, just slightly better at it than I am.
* Tomorrow it begins... Ash Wednesday has come around yet again, and Lent settles in for its long stay. This year, while I'm limiting my computer time and giving up computer games altogether -- alas, we must part, Bookworm -- I am not giving up blogging. Blogging has gone from a hobby on the side to a very real way to maintain my friendships, and my husband didn't think it was a good idea to give it up. Ha, neither did I. In addition to giving up, Darren and I are focusing on ways to "give" -- money to charity, more time in prayer, etc. We've explained this to Addie and Stuart. Addie has declared that she'll make our bed every day, and that she'll give up two days of shopping. Okey-dokey.
* Self-expression... Daphne has developed an endearing new habit: screaming. This isn't baby-screaming, the irrational wailing of an upset infant. This is, "Hey, I want to be picked up NOW -- SKREEEEEE!" This morning I started tapping her cheek and saying, "No!" She seemed to understand the message. Addie and Stuart were pretty impressed to see Daphne get reprimanded.
* Postcards... arrived a few days ago from Darren's grandmother. Lovely shots of ships in Halifax harbor. Thank you, Grandma. I plan to frame one of them, and then hope to put the rest in a frame for Darren's office. He loves ships -- it's his maritime blood.
* Snow, snow, go away... We got a mildly good snowfall last week, but then it rained and then it got cold and then it didn't warm up like usual. So we've had snow and ice on the ground for a week. We got a couple of snow days out of the deal, but eventually snow gets really monochromatic. Which I remedied partly by sending the kids out with water colors to paint on the ice, but I'm ready for it to go away now. The weather is paying as much attention to me as usual.
-- SJ
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Cue Eerie Music
Just the day after the long discussion on this blog of "Millicent" (and attending names), I was alerted to a strange coincidence by Kristen R. (and her attending non-identities). See this post on our favorite baby-name-book blog, the Baby Name Wizard. You're supposed to notice, and be struck by, two of the names she mentioned... not only in the same sentence, but as compared to one another.
Maybe it's just coincidence.
Maybe the BNW author lurks on my blog.
Or maybe other forces are at work in the blogging world.
/fade out/
-- SJ
P.S. The word "eerie" looks very strange capitalized.
Maybe it's just coincidence.
Maybe the BNW author lurks on my blog.
Or maybe other forces are at work in the blogging world.
/fade out/
-- SJ
P.S. The word "eerie" looks very strange capitalized.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
And The Winner Is!
The judges have decided, the results are in, the Midwinter Blog Scavenger Hunt has an official winner! And that winner is....
But before I get to that, I'd like to thank all of you who participated. And thank you for your patience as we got around to judging the hunts, although it's not like you had a lot of choice. If you'd complained, we'd have fired back a snarky email saying that YOU could take care of a baby in a hospital, and then we'd shove your entry into last place. So it was well that you all demonstrated understanding and sympathy.
Judges always say, "It was a hard decision, but..." They never come right out and say, "Good heavens, I don't know why we had to read through all those entries! Except for the winner, they were all abysmal!" Guess what? We aren't going to say that, either. In our case, it's because we heartily enjoyed all the entries and it really did take quite a bit of discussion to come to a decision.
So, on to the big announcement! The winner is...
But first, let's go to the smaller prizes. For quickest hunting:
Rose
Aaron
Queen of Carrots
Your prizes will arrive by mail within the 2007 calendar year, assuming no more children have health crises.
And honorable mentions for particularly creative or entertaining "finds":
* Rose’s odd-name choice
* Charlessa’s shoe
* Ranee’s green couch
* Most tenuous connection: Rose's "green"
* Best use of resources: Liane’s hairbrush
* Most minuscule hairbrush: Aaron
* Best car and childbirth links: QoC
* Most welcome new acquaintance: Ranee, it was good to meet you
And now, the moment you've all been waiting for, unless you cheated and looked down here first...
The winner is...
Liane!
Congratulations, Liane! Email us the name of a favorite restaurant, and we'll happily award your prize.
As soon as we're struck by inspiration again, we'll do another Fun Blog Adventure, so anyone who didn't get a chance to get in on this one will have another shot. Thanks for participating! Fun was had by all!
-- SJ and DJ
P.S. Congratulations to Aaron and Jesse for being the MANLIEST bloggers among our readers.
But before I get to that, I'd like to thank all of you who participated. And thank you for your patience as we got around to judging the hunts, although it's not like you had a lot of choice. If you'd complained, we'd have fired back a snarky email saying that YOU could take care of a baby in a hospital, and then we'd shove your entry into last place. So it was well that you all demonstrated understanding and sympathy.
Judges always say, "It was a hard decision, but..." They never come right out and say, "Good heavens, I don't know why we had to read through all those entries! Except for the winner, they were all abysmal!" Guess what? We aren't going to say that, either. In our case, it's because we heartily enjoyed all the entries and it really did take quite a bit of discussion to come to a decision.
So, on to the big announcement! The winner is...
But first, let's go to the smaller prizes. For quickest hunting:
Rose
Aaron
Queen of Carrots
Your prizes will arrive by mail within the 2007 calendar year, assuming no more children have health crises.
And honorable mentions for particularly creative or entertaining "finds":
* Rose’s odd-name choice
* Charlessa’s shoe
* Ranee’s green couch
* Most tenuous connection: Rose's "green"
* Best use of resources: Liane’s hairbrush
* Most minuscule hairbrush: Aaron
* Best car and childbirth links: QoC
* Most welcome new acquaintance: Ranee, it was good to meet you
And now, the moment you've all been waiting for, unless you cheated and looked down here first...
The winner is...
Liane!
Congratulations, Liane! Email us the name of a favorite restaurant, and we'll happily award your prize.
As soon as we're struck by inspiration again, we'll do another Fun Blog Adventure, so anyone who didn't get a chance to get in on this one will have another shot. Thanks for participating! Fun was had by all!
-- SJ and DJ
P.S. Congratulations to Aaron and Jesse for being the MANLIEST bloggers among our readers.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Send Me Emails, Too
Contrary to appearances, I don't need constant feedback from my friends to shore up massive insecurities. (My insecurities are moderate to high, but certainly not massive.) The postcards I requested continue to come in at a pleasing trickle. Recently added to my collection:
Kansas -- Barbara G. Everybody needs pictures of pigs on the living room wall!
Jerusalem -- Craig S. Nothing like a windmill to evoke the feel of Biblical times.
The Walters Museum, Baltimore -- Danielle J. If I have friends who work at art museums and send me prints of famous paintings, then I can be cultured and not have to visit art museums myself.
Grand Teton National Park, California -- Janice P. Them are some *real* mountains.
My collection by this time is positively delightful. I've got almost enough to start mounting them. Almost enough? Well, I don't have *yours* yet, do I? (You know who you are.)
Postcards aside, the following request is strictly business.
Some may remember a year or two ago when my email program crashed and I lost all my addresses. Guess what! That's right! It did it again! I don't know if it's my computer, or email program, or just bad karma, but crashes like this happen relatively frequently. It's annoying, but it at least saves me the trouble of having to sort emails. This way, I lose every darn one. So unless you're one of the four or five people who has sent me an email since this morning, I don't have your address. Would you mind zipping one my way? It doesn't even have to be a note, just something so I can restore your address to my book.
Things are calming down here, and we hope to be able to sit down and judge Scavenger Hunts soon. Thanks to all of you for your prayers and sympathy for Daphne. She's doing very well.
-- SJ
P.S. Of course, if you did want to utilize your email to tell me how much you love my writing and my sparkling personality, my insecurities would be okay with that.
Kansas -- Barbara G. Everybody needs pictures of pigs on the living room wall!
Jerusalem -- Craig S. Nothing like a windmill to evoke the feel of Biblical times.
The Walters Museum, Baltimore -- Danielle J. If I have friends who work at art museums and send me prints of famous paintings, then I can be cultured and not have to visit art museums myself.
Grand Teton National Park, California -- Janice P. Them are some *real* mountains.
My collection by this time is positively delightful. I've got almost enough to start mounting them. Almost enough? Well, I don't have *yours* yet, do I? (You know who you are.)
Postcards aside, the following request is strictly business.
Some may remember a year or two ago when my email program crashed and I lost all my addresses. Guess what! That's right! It did it again! I don't know if it's my computer, or email program, or just bad karma, but crashes like this happen relatively frequently. It's annoying, but it at least saves me the trouble of having to sort emails. This way, I lose every darn one. So unless you're one of the four or five people who has sent me an email since this morning, I don't have your address. Would you mind zipping one my way? It doesn't even have to be a note, just something so I can restore your address to my book.
Things are calming down here, and we hope to be able to sit down and judge Scavenger Hunts soon. Thanks to all of you for your prayers and sympathy for Daphne. She's doing very well.
-- SJ
P.S. Of course, if you did want to utilize your email to tell me how much you love my writing and my sparkling personality, my insecurities would be okay with that.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Fun in 418
We got home this morning. After being dashed through a biting wind into the house, Daphne sat a little bewildered in her carseat for the first moment or two. Then the sounds and smells of Home registered with her, and she broke into smiles. I know how she feels.
She's still wheezy but very much herself. Addie and Stuart have played happily all day, glad that life is normal again. Darren and I are managing to hold up, albeit saggingly.
The following is a blog post I wrote in the hospital. I'm a pretty dedicated blogger, I guess, if I'm offline for four days and still manage two posts -- written out in neat cursive, no less! I hate to waste finished material, and I certainly don't have the stamina to come up with a new one right now (this little introduction has pretty much sapped my creative powers). So enjoy. And if you don't, then use the experience to build character.
***
While Darren soldiers on under full-time Kid Duty -- feeding, doctoring, comforting, refereeing, and (most challenging of all) picking out Sunday clothes -- Daphne and I are kicking back here in our resort room #418, complete with a bed disguised as a 2'x7' sofa, and a panoramic view of the parking lot.
So what do you do when you're the healthy one confined to a hospital room? (And I do mean confined: because RSV is very contagious, I can't take Daphne out of the room.) Fortunately, there's an endless list of fun things to do in situations like this. Or not endless, actually, or not very fun. But you can make lists if you want to.
I watch T.V., usually with the volume down, for as long as I want, usually about 20 minutes at a stretch. The Super Bowl is tonight, but what mostly interests me about the Super Bowl is its increasingly complicated numbering system. Super Bowl I, V, and especially X must have seemed like a good idea at the time. Obviously nobody thought ahead to, say, Super Bowl XXXIV, which looks stupid. Won't it really be snazzy when it's "Super Bowl L"? According to Dave Barry, Roman numerals were a direct cause of the fall of the Empire.
Friday night I watched an episode of "Grey's Anatomy," a drama I know a little about because I'm friends with a psychotically devoted fan. It's a cool show, Barbara. I was hooked all the way through. Granted, the next morning I realized that the part about that patient's toxic blood fumes that nearly wiped out the entire medical staff was roll-on-the-floor funny, but at the time it seemed workable.
Apart from my T.V. sessions, I spend my time with 20Q. This little hand-held electronic is fascinating. (Dana and Nina gave it to me for my birthday so I wouldn't steal theirs.) It asks 20 - 25 seemingly random questions about an object you have in mind. You answer with Yes, No, Sometimes, and Unknown... all the while thinking, "There's no way it's going to get the right answer this time." Three out of four times, it does.
One small adventure was washing my hair with Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo. But that wasn't fun. More like sad.
I daydream about sneaking downstairs for a Coffee Toffee, a blended iced coffee drink. It rarely comes about because Daph hears me thinking about it and pops up wide-awake and needing company. But no one can take away my dreams.
I'm always calling my mother, ostensibly to give updates but mostly to have conversations that don't involve oxygen levels and treatment schedules. [In retrospect, there were a lot of other people I could have called to let them know what was going on, but we spent the whole weekend thinking, "She'll just be in one more day. No need to alert anyone except our parents." By the fourth day, we realized our mistake but it was a bit late then.]
One thing I don't do is eat breakfast. The food here is very edible and occasionally good, but I've had no luck with breakfast. One morning I got pancakes with syrup but no butter. The next day I got French toast with butter but no syrup. By the time I finish my Mama duties and get to any of my meals, they're stone-cold. I'd rather have a Coffee Toffee, anyway.
Darren, Addie, and Stuart visit once or twice every day. I never feel like a large family until we're all packed into #418. Stuart's snow boots alone take up significant floor space. (No, we haven't had any snow. He wore his pajamas under his church clothes today even though there was no naptime during the service.) The kids find these visits boring, and it's a hassle for Darren, but I need them.
My pastor's wife checks in pretty frequently. Daphne's illness is of primary importance at the church. Daphne is, after all, church property, and everyone wants to make sure that Darren and I take good care of her.
In among everything else, I listen to the conversations and activities in the world outside my door. I hear babies crying, kids coughing, overwrought little voices wailing, "No! No!" It makes me very grateful for modern medicine that turns my baby's life-threatening congestion into a mere tedious wait for recovery. There are children much sicker than Daphne, and parents much more anxious than Darren and I are. We agreed that hospital stays are like airplane trips: either they're mind-numbingly boring, or incredibly stressful with the occasional moments of terror.
All things considered, I'm glad to sit here in room #418 and be bored.
-- SJ
She's still wheezy but very much herself. Addie and Stuart have played happily all day, glad that life is normal again. Darren and I are managing to hold up, albeit saggingly.
The following is a blog post I wrote in the hospital. I'm a pretty dedicated blogger, I guess, if I'm offline for four days and still manage two posts -- written out in neat cursive, no less! I hate to waste finished material, and I certainly don't have the stamina to come up with a new one right now (this little introduction has pretty much sapped my creative powers). So enjoy. And if you don't, then use the experience to build character.
***
While Darren soldiers on under full-time Kid Duty -- feeding, doctoring, comforting, refereeing, and (most challenging of all) picking out Sunday clothes -- Daphne and I are kicking back here in our resort room #418, complete with a bed disguised as a 2'x7' sofa, and a panoramic view of the parking lot.
So what do you do when you're the healthy one confined to a hospital room? (And I do mean confined: because RSV is very contagious, I can't take Daphne out of the room.) Fortunately, there's an endless list of fun things to do in situations like this. Or not endless, actually, or not very fun. But you can make lists if you want to.
I watch T.V., usually with the volume down, for as long as I want, usually about 20 minutes at a stretch. The Super Bowl is tonight, but what mostly interests me about the Super Bowl is its increasingly complicated numbering system. Super Bowl I, V, and especially X must have seemed like a good idea at the time. Obviously nobody thought ahead to, say, Super Bowl XXXIV, which looks stupid. Won't it really be snazzy when it's "Super Bowl L"? According to Dave Barry, Roman numerals were a direct cause of the fall of the Empire.
Friday night I watched an episode of "Grey's Anatomy," a drama I know a little about because I'm friends with a psychotically devoted fan. It's a cool show, Barbara. I was hooked all the way through. Granted, the next morning I realized that the part about that patient's toxic blood fumes that nearly wiped out the entire medical staff was roll-on-the-floor funny, but at the time it seemed workable.
Apart from my T.V. sessions, I spend my time with 20Q. This little hand-held electronic is fascinating. (Dana and Nina gave it to me for my birthday so I wouldn't steal theirs.) It asks 20 - 25 seemingly random questions about an object you have in mind. You answer with Yes, No, Sometimes, and Unknown... all the while thinking, "There's no way it's going to get the right answer this time." Three out of four times, it does.
One small adventure was washing my hair with Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo. But that wasn't fun. More like sad.
I daydream about sneaking downstairs for a Coffee Toffee, a blended iced coffee drink. It rarely comes about because Daph hears me thinking about it and pops up wide-awake and needing company. But no one can take away my dreams.
I'm always calling my mother, ostensibly to give updates but mostly to have conversations that don't involve oxygen levels and treatment schedules. [In retrospect, there were a lot of other people I could have called to let them know what was going on, but we spent the whole weekend thinking, "She'll just be in one more day. No need to alert anyone except our parents." By the fourth day, we realized our mistake but it was a bit late then.]
One thing I don't do is eat breakfast. The food here is very edible and occasionally good, but I've had no luck with breakfast. One morning I got pancakes with syrup but no butter. The next day I got French toast with butter but no syrup. By the time I finish my Mama duties and get to any of my meals, they're stone-cold. I'd rather have a Coffee Toffee, anyway.
Darren, Addie, and Stuart visit once or twice every day. I never feel like a large family until we're all packed into #418. Stuart's snow boots alone take up significant floor space. (No, we haven't had any snow. He wore his pajamas under his church clothes today even though there was no naptime during the service.) The kids find these visits boring, and it's a hassle for Darren, but I need them.
My pastor's wife checks in pretty frequently. Daphne's illness is of primary importance at the church. Daphne is, after all, church property, and everyone wants to make sure that Darren and I take good care of her.
In among everything else, I listen to the conversations and activities in the world outside my door. I hear babies crying, kids coughing, overwrought little voices wailing, "No! No!" It makes me very grateful for modern medicine that turns my baby's life-threatening congestion into a mere tedious wait for recovery. There are children much sicker than Daphne, and parents much more anxious than Darren and I are. We agreed that hospital stays are like airplane trips: either they're mind-numbingly boring, or incredibly stressful with the occasional moments of terror.
All things considered, I'm glad to sit here in room #418 and be bored.
-- SJ
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Weekend Getaway
Next time I do a “weekend away,” I’m not letting Daphne choose where we stay.
What was supposed to be a 24-hour hospital stay for observation has turned into a three-day fight against a respiratory virus. It was Friday morning that I noticed Daphne was wheezing and working hard to breathe. Experience with Stuart has taught me how to categorize symptoms: fever = leave alone and watch; cough = leave alone (or dose with Dimetapp) and watch; wheezing – very bad, don’t wait, take child in immediately. So I did, and two hours later the older kids were with a neighbor and Daphne was being admitted into the Pediatric Ward with RSV.
RSV doesn’t stand for Respiratory Something Virus, but that’s what I call it. In adults, it’s a lingering cold. Its effect gets worse the younger the body, so that it’s downright dangerous in infants. It causes the airways to swell and fill with mucous. Babies’ airways are so small that it doesn’t take long before their breathing is seriously threatened.
Daphne has endured breathing treatments, blood being drawn, X-rays for pneumonia (negative, thankfully), and rectal thermometers. Throughout, she’s been as cooperative as you can expect from a 5-month old, and has been in remarkably good temper most of the time. (Not all of the time.)
She’s just been diagnosed with a double ear infection on top of everything else, so we’re still here for the time being. Fortunately, it’s a good hospital; the staff is excellent and the care is top notch. Although the room is small, it’s beginning to feel “homey,” by which I mean that there are dirty dishes on the table and the laundry is reaching a critical point. Occasional visits from Darren and the older two brighten things up, but I’ll be glad to get back home. It’s been a long weekend for all of us.
--SJ (as typed by DJ)
What was supposed to be a 24-hour hospital stay for observation has turned into a three-day fight against a respiratory virus. It was Friday morning that I noticed Daphne was wheezing and working hard to breathe. Experience with Stuart has taught me how to categorize symptoms: fever = leave alone and watch; cough = leave alone (or dose with Dimetapp) and watch; wheezing – very bad, don’t wait, take child in immediately. So I did, and two hours later the older kids were with a neighbor and Daphne was being admitted into the Pediatric Ward with RSV.
RSV doesn’t stand for Respiratory Something Virus, but that’s what I call it. In adults, it’s a lingering cold. Its effect gets worse the younger the body, so that it’s downright dangerous in infants. It causes the airways to swell and fill with mucous. Babies’ airways are so small that it doesn’t take long before their breathing is seriously threatened.
Daphne has endured breathing treatments, blood being drawn, X-rays for pneumonia (negative, thankfully), and rectal thermometers. Throughout, she’s been as cooperative as you can expect from a 5-month old, and has been in remarkably good temper most of the time. (Not all of the time.)
She’s just been diagnosed with a double ear infection on top of everything else, so we’re still here for the time being. Fortunately, it’s a good hospital; the staff is excellent and the care is top notch. Although the room is small, it’s beginning to feel “homey,” by which I mean that there are dirty dishes on the table and the laundry is reaching a critical point. Occasional visits from Darren and the older two brighten things up, but I’ll be glad to get back home. It’s been a long weekend for all of us.
--SJ (as typed by DJ)
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