My once strong and regal Siamese is now scraggly and limp.

In the Fall of 2006, the cat began having difficulty breathing. I took him to our regular vet and we started him on a regimen of antibiotics. After about 6 months, his condition worsened so I took him back to my Regular Vet for a check-up. She stated that there was nothing else that she could do...so I went home and did some research and ultimately took the cat to a respiratory specialist at a State-Renowned Animal Hospital. After running half a dozen (very expensive) tests, I was told that he had asthma and bronchitis. So we were sent home with steroids and a feline inhaler.

After another 4-5 months, the condition continued to worsen, so back we went to the Regular Vet who recommended that I "seriously think about ending his suffering." Beyond his difficulty breathing, the Essence of my sweet cat was still there and I wasn't ready to put him to down. So off we went again to the State-Renowned Animal Hospital. Another boatload of tests were conducted and we were sent away with even more meds plus weekly allergy shots.

Fast forward to last week when I had to board the Siamese at our local vet's office for two nights while we were out of town.

My poor guy had lost more than two pounds, had horrible congestion and labored breathing, and his little ear tips were folded over and drooped horribly. The Vet Assistant told me that she had never seen a cat's ears do that in her 22 years of practice.

During the check-in process, I learned that our Regular Vet had left the practice. So I went ahead and asked that the Owner DVM take a look at the cat to see if there was anything else we could do to save his life.

Turns out, my Siamese has Herpes and not chronic bronchitis. And all of those steroids and antibiotics that I was given to administer to him twice daily for a year and a half gave him diabetes and Cushings Disease.

All for nothing.

Two wrong diagnoses.

You know that adage about getting a Second Opinion? It didn't work.

So now I sit and pet my sweet little Siamese and just cry cry cry because even though I did my very best to get good help for him, I ended up overloading his system with the meds that have essentially destroyed his system. I am beside myself with guilt and grief.

I keep trying to think back and pinpoint exactly where I went wrong. I followed their instructions. I sought out the best possible care available. And I have hurt him...incurably.

When I'm feeling really dark and moody, I start to realize that this is a repeat lesson in my life that I just can't seem to overcome. No matter how hard I work at doing/fixing certain things in my life...even when I give 100% effort and energy....I still end up Failing. No matter how many different approaches I take, no matter how hard I try, no matter who I call in to help....I fail.

Which is certainly the case with my sweet Siamese. Despite my best intentions.

I'm grateful for the departure of my old vet and the help from my new vet. And I am deeply angry at myself for not realizing what was happening sooner.

During our 18-month check-in last week, our Ped asked me to stop giving the baby his Prevacid. Cold Turkey. To see if the baby had grown out of his reflux.

It was a Disaster.

Around 1am on Monday morning, the baby woke up screaming in a shrill, desperate way. I ran into his bedroom and his back was arched and his hands were in a claw position. He wouldn't let me pick him up and was just inconsolable. Husband ran in and helped me get the baby up and out of the crib, and we held him for the next 4.5 hours. I was able to get him to take a few bites of custard mixed with Prevacid and it seemed to finally kick-in around 5:30am.

Since this incident, we've been giving the baby Prevacid twice daily and he's now 1) sleeping throughout the night without waking up and crying at all and 2) eating better. The 2x a day dosage was always an option, but we had decided against it because we've read that Prevacid can deplete iron/bone density. But now, it's painfully obvious that the baby needs this dosage level.

It's amazing how tiredness or irritability will fly right out the window when your baby is in pain.

We're hoping his reflux is under control for now...and that he'll grow out of it within the next couple of years. We'd also like to make some gain on the eating issue. Baby Boy's OT has put him at 6-months developmentally for his penchant to put everything in his mouth these days. And we're at less than 10 months overall for his eating patterns. And despite his ability to climb like a gecko, our PT's recent assessment still puts him several months behind developmentally for most gross motor skills.

We're still moving forward and developing new skills almost daily. And they (OT, PT, ST, MD) tell me that this is what's important. That we'll "catch-up."

I take their words to heart and deeply hope that this will be the case.

Booyah!!

We (finally) broke the 20lb glass ceiling at yesterday's Synagis appointment. Baby Boy weighed in at 20lbs 7 oz....until he cried so hard from the shot that he threw-up his entire morning bottle. All over daddy. They both came home covered in the stuff and had to be put right into the shower.

Last week, the baby spent over an hour with his OT and ate a full tablespoon of avocado and some cinnamon bread. Then he took an entire bottle while sitting at the table. It was an exciting session. Sadly, at the very end, he gagged and then threw-up the entire amount. I was so frustrated, I couldn't help but cry. It's as though we make progress but it doesn't hold. I keep wondering what I'm doing wrong, but the doctor told me last week that he suspects that the problem is a oral sensory issue. Nonetheless, I'm hoping to go to a feeding clinic to get another opinion and more help. We are not going to gain the weight until this child starts eating table food.

Okay, I'm inspired to make Mac n Cheese for breakfast.

Forward Ho. I hope!

Husband and the baby are at the Synagis clinic for the once monthly vaccine against RSV. It is the only time that I am alone in this house and it feels...beautiful. The quietness, the absence of having to constantly monitor the baby to insure he doesn't find a hidden piece of schmutz to eat, the vast open space to do whatever the heck I want to do. Sure, it only lasts about 45 minutes, but for now? My introverted self is re-energizing and reveling in my aloneness.

We suffered total technological breakdown last week. The satellite service wouldn't move to a different room. The microwave broke (Built-in, 10 years old.). The washing machine broke (Front-load, 2 years old). The high speed internet service shut down due to recent updates by McAfee. (It was a slow death that took me back to the dial-up speeds from many years ago. I thought I was going mad. Two hours on the phone with the service provider and the McAfee agent and we are once again back up to speed.)

I don't want to buy a new microwave and I'm bitter that my highly-rated (Consumer Reports) washing machine is a lemon. The Sears folks are denying that it is a manufacturing error (covered under warranty). I'm incredulous that the thing could break down at such a young age.

Last week we rented a huge trash container and purged the basement. Old Christmas garland that had turned gnarly, stacks of Christmas gift boxes that never got used, crumpled gift wrapping, old work files, battered old leather shoes that had hardened and cracked, floral comforter covers from the 90's....stuff that was clogging my space and my brain. Sadly, we're not done yet. But it's a start and it's helped.

One piece of good news last week: Baby Boy was accepted into a preschool program that starts in September. He'll be 2 years old by then and will attend one day week. I hope it's not going to be too much for him to handle - but I have to believe that having exposure to other kids is going to be a good thing.

Ummm. They're back. Time to make breakfast.

I dropped-off a few dozen items for sale at a large consignment event this weekend and unexpectedly started crying as I drove away. It was a full rack of Baby Boy's infant clothes, and I realized that we have already hit the end of an era. All of my favorite little outfits - many that he wore without being photographed - are now on sale for just a few bucks each. It got me remembering when we first met in the NICU and he only weighed 4lbs. He'd sleep throughout the day and he never, ever smiled.

Now, he's a bucket of sunshine and racing all over the house.

I don't think I'll ever be able to adequately express how deeply grateful I am to have this boy in my life. He's more than I ever imagined.

It hurts to have strep throat.

For three days, I was delirious from a 102+ temperature and all-over body aches. I finally dragged myself to the doctor and received a Z Pac...which seemed to work immediately. Holy Mano. I spent one of those days just sobbing because there was absolutely no comfortable position, and I didn't think that the pain was ever going to go away.

It didn't help that Husband couldn't stay home to take care of the baby because he had convinced himself that he was on the brink of getting fired. He shared this little tidbit with me at 3am on Monday morning as I was begging begging begging him to stay home that day.

Suddenly, this job that I have absolutely loathed was starting to look pretty good. Perhaps influenced by a high fever. Nonetheless, I squeezed all of the details out of him and started to role play what he should say during his meeting later that day with his manager. He walked out of the house that day prepared with his list of Mea Culpa's and solutions for improvement.

Turns out that he was in trouble for dropping the ball on a project but overall, they are extremely happy with his performance. It made me wonder, How in the world can a person be so dang paranoid and out of touch? Then it occurred to me that I used to be the very same way when I worked. He and I are alot more alike than I care to admit.

The baby has been throwing up all week, so I've stayed away from table food and just focused on getting at least 6 ounces of formula down him at each sitting. Our OT won't be pleased, but I think he is starting to slowly gain weight again, and that is my ultimate goal for now.

Baby Boy continues to Twaddle (more of a waddle than a walk) around the house at breakneck speeds. He's added three words to his vocabulary, but we're still quite a bit behind.

Husband's dad is still in the ICU recovering from surgery. Between a trachea, a food tube and being on the ventilator...it's been very slow progress. We're just thankful that he's hanging in there.

I can now recite lists of all of the characters on Sesame Street, Barney and Dragon Tales. Despite spending a couple of hours a day on the Internet to read world news, etc. and eating plenty of protein...my mind has shriveled down to the size of a walnut. I'm waiting to start school this fall after my (assumed) surgery this summer, but in the meantime, I'm dying a slow and painful cerebral death.

Good Read suggestions are gratefully accepted.