Magic Cream
Cardin has been struggling the last few months with a lot of reflux, stomach aches, and her typical round of vomiting. Since things seemed to be spiraling more and more out of control, I decided it was time to be more proactive about the situation.
First we started with an ear, nose, and throat doctor who told us that we really need to see a pediatric gastroenterologist. You’ll recall my superb luck with the pediatric gastroenterologist, here, when I tried to get Rory’s formula covered for his milk allergy. I was in stitches when I realized that both of my kids would need to go to this office. Listen Lady, could I get a buy one get one?
We waited a couple months just to get an appointment and provided all of Cardin’s fantastic episodes of vomiting pleasure. I mean really, I could have just directed the doctor to this blog and been all “97% of the blogs are about vomit, read up.”
We left the appointment with orders to get some blood work drawn to test for food allergies and to do a celiac screen. To ease the blood draw, I had the pediatrician give me some lidocain cream and we applied that before the blood test. The cream has to sit for 30 minutes and makes your arm itch and tingle before it really reaches it’s peak. It was a jolly good time to sit around in the waiting room of the lab for 30 minutes with my kids arm stretched out, cream slathered at the elbow joint, her refusing to move an inch.
Even though we applied the cream, we still had to pin Cardin down to draw the blood through screams and sobs. The pleading cry of “No Momma. Please don’t do it Momma.” resounding in the background. As a parent, it’s heart wrenching to watch and listen to your child plead and beg, out of utter fear, while you force a medical test upon them; even though you know it’s for their own good.
Luckily the results all came back negative. No food allergies or celiac. This is both good and bad. Good that we don’t have to contend with an allergy, but bad because we still have no direction on where to go. Right now, Cardin is on a liquid form of prilosec to see if that helps with the reflux and vomiting. Here’s hoping that future blogs bring up topics outside of puke.
T minus 100
The countdown is on Lady. We are T minus 100 days until the big 3-0. Fear not, I have an app that alerts me to this situation. 
I was having a really difficult time selecting how I wanted to ring in the dirty thirty. I really wanted to rent a private suite at the Bills/Miami game and invite family and friends until Brett got the price. Listen Lady, the suites start at $8k….without food. I don’t think so. We tossed around the idea of a wine/brewery tour or a ski trip since I’ve never done either. It was slim picking since the weather is a hard predictor for the end of November.
I’m happy to report that Brett has come through with my first choice; slightly modified. Instead of a private suite, we are sitting in the M&T Bank Club which provides guests with a comfortable, climate controlled environment including a complimentary full buffet and a (top-shelf) open bar throughout the entire game. WOOT WOOT!!!
Neither of us has ever been to a night game. I’m even more excited to sit inside and enjoy the game without freezing my arse off while enjoying my top shelf Vodka Seven. Hopefully all the alcohol will make the sting of 30 a little more bearable.
Survival Skills Challenge
Others often ask how things are going with two kids wreaking havoc throughout the house. It’s a funny question if you were to consider it, because would it really be socially acceptable to give anything but a positive response?
Imagine the looks I’d get if I was all, “Things are a bit of a struggle right now. The baby has a full blown milk allergy; poops like a rocket. And the 3 year old, well she just decided to go all navy seal with a package of mommy’s tampons and use them in Gatling gun fashion to launch a full scale war against the cat. Otherwise, life with two kids is sunshine and peaches.”
I would describe parenting a newborn as a challenge to your basic survival needs; a fight between sleep and hunger. It’s amazing how little sleep your body can actually function on. You would never believe that one little human would require SO much attention and care and yet you’ll find yourself exhausted and starving nearly every night. The day will fly by, in a blur of diapers and onesie changes and you’ll have forgotten to eat.
This is where your basic survival skills will kick in. The baby will have finally settled down to sleep and in your head you’ll be calculating exactly how long you’ll have before he or she rousts you with screams to eat. Showering has long been crossed off your list of necessary activities so you must decide, is it more important to spend 20 minutes eating or get 20 more minutes of sleep?
Not to worry new mommies and daddies, things do get better. The sleepless nights end. You quickly figure out how to manage a 3 minute shower. And eating…..well forget about eating. Cardin is going on 4 and I still don’t eat a hot meal. Listen Lady, I wouldn’t trade things for the world. It’s a whirlwind to have both parents work full time, raise a family, and keep up a house. But it’s a journey we all get to ride together and I’m glad that our friends and family are here to share it with us and lend a hand.
Free Hug with Purchase
I’ve been trying to sell off our old Entertainment Center/TV Stand on Craigslist and I’ve been highly unsuccessful. Listen Lady, it’s a good TV stand, we just simply outgrew it because we got a larger TV. It’s in decent shape. The whole thing is assembled and I even have the original instruction booklet.
I’m selling the whole kit and caboodle for $50. I’ll even throw in a free hug with the purchase price.
So here are the specs people. SOMEONE PLEASE BUY MY FURNITURE!!!
Fully assembled
Includes all hardware and assembly instructions
Dimensions are:
Height: 53″
Length: 59 1/2″
Depth: 22 1/2″
Inside Cabinet Length: 41″
Do they vacuum the cows?
Herein lies an epic blog that has taken months to come to fruition folks. Before Rory was born I made the decision to formula feed him. Send the hate mail now, defriend me, throw small children at my house…I know I’m not going with the status quo of “Breast is Best”. As it turns out, my knockers are no good for my kids. You see Internet, Rory has a milk allergy.
Let’s rewind a little to when he was born. We started out with regular formula and, by golly, if that did not clog up the poor kid like a drug mule. He didn’t poop for 3 days. Listen Lady, I really thought I saw poop behind his eyelids one day. His gas was so bad that the Soviet Union contacted me and offered me $20 billion dollars to bottle his flatulence and use it as biological warfare. I’m kidding. Please don’t kill me KGB.
No joke on this one though…we were at calling hours for my Aunt one night when Rory let a fart rip that cleared the entire room at the funeral home. Except for my poor, deceased aunt who had to bear the brunt of the toxic fumes that lingered in the air, may she rest in peace.
Since Rory’s colon was working in similar fashion to a nuclear reactor, we switched him over to Soy and also started to give him an ounce of prune juice each day to help with his constipation. The prune juice did the trick, but the Soy did little to help with the agitation and colic issues he was showing. He would drink a bottle but scream in pain during the middle of it. No good.
By the time he was 5 weeks old we were on our third round of formula; each time increasing in cost and decreasing in quantity. This time we went to a special, hypo-allergenic formula. Rory’s allergy is not actually to milk itself, but to the protein in milk and this formula is designed specifically for that; with the protein sucked right out. I like to think they use a giant dyson and vacuum the cows as they are milking them. Makes sense to me.
Since this is not just an intolerance to milk, but a true allergy, there is the potential for the insurance company to pay for this formula. The only catch….be prepared for a battle.
Getting the formula covered, requires a prior authorization from the insurance company and a direct order from a pediatric gastroenterologist. Of course, those doctors are considered specialists and we all know how long it takes to get in to see a specialist. We waited for nearly a month just to get him to be seen by the doctor. Once he had been seen, it took a week to get the prior authorization through and approved by insurance. And that only occurred because I held the hand of the doctors office to get the ball rolling. I was a thorn in their side; often calling multiple times a day to check on the status of the authorization, or to verify they had faxed or received paperwork that was needed.
Listen Lady, at one point, I lost my cool and yelled at the charge nurse. She’d pissed me off enough that day and I was all, “MY SON SHOULD NOT SUFFER BECAUSE OF YOUR INCOMPETENCE.” Sure enough, the prior authorization was approved that very day and the prescription was sent through to the pharmacy that afternoon. Coincidence? It just proves my point that bitching is the only way to get what you want. Sad, but true.
After finally battling through all the insurance red tape and the monkeys who run the pediatric gastroenterology office, I thought we had finally won. We could get the prescription filled and we’d be on our way to a happy, healthy boy. And this is where I would be wrong.
The pharmacy we use called to tell me that they needed to order this formula, as they do not carry it in stock and it would be in from their wholesaler on Wednesday afternoon and ready for pickup. Not a problem, we had plenty of formula to hold Rory over until then and I’d come pick it up.
After work on Wednesday, I swung over to the pharmacy to pickup the prescription. I went to the register and gave the tweener bopper working behind the counter my name. A quizzical look ran across his face as he pulled up my account and said, “Oh, I’ll be right back”. Right then, you know it’s just never going to turn out well.
Mr. “I have enough pimples on my face I could use it as an abacus” returns with the head pharmacist and I’m inspired when I hear this conversation.
Pharmacist: “Yea, Mrs. Mayer…We ordered the quantity incorrectly for Rory’s prescription. Instead of ordering 32 cans of formula, we ordered 32 cases. And when we realized our error, we tried to cancel the excess cans but instead canceled the whole order. So now we don’t have any of the order for you.”
Me:(while biting lip) “mmmm hmmmm. And you couldn’t have called to inform me of this? So when exactly will you get the order in?”
Pharmacist: “You’re right. I’m sorry, we should have called to tell you. We re-placed the order, so the 16 cans should be in tomorrow, I promise. And to make it up to you, I’m going to waive the co-pay on this order”
I departed, empty handed.
Bright and early Thursday morning my phone rang. Low and behold it was the pharmacy calling to tell me that once again, the order had been placed incorrectly and only 4 of the 16 cans had been received. Really buddy? Yesterday you promised. You’re lucky this one wasn’t a pinkie swear.
The pharmacist was very apologetic and because of all the ordering problems he even personally delivered the 4 cans of formula to us so we would not have to make another trip out to the store. Unfortunately, the remaining 12 cans would need to picked up next week as another order would not be due in until after the weekend. Why not….let’s extend this cluster fuck another week. 
Last night I went back to the pharmacy and tested the waters again. As luck would have it, the full order had come in and I went home, with GOLD in hand.
When I got home, I checked the cost of the prescription and discovered why the insurance puts us through such rigor before agreeing to pay for the formula. My eyes almost reached my toes on this one. Thankfully, Brett carries excellent prescription insurance coverage.
We should be set now. Rory is doing wonderfully on this new formula. He is gaining weight like a champion and will hopefully grow out of his milk allergy at some point in the future.