Riley

When Jake and I got married we lived in a 2 bedroom apartment. I remember being SO excited about the idea of getting a dog when we got our first home. I researched the breed and health problems related with the Danes.  I previously had a Great Dane when I lived in Lehi for a year or so. I just knew that I loved their temperament and how massive they are yet they still want to be a lap dog.  When Jake and I started looking for houses I got even more excited that I was going to be able to have a dog again! 

The house hunt took quite some time and we even bid on a few other houses before we found our current home.  I was so thrilled that I already had a puppy picked out before we even signed papers on our house.  It was the end of November 2009 when we finally signed papers and were able to start moving into the house.  I remember going to the breeder’s house more than a couple times and even bringing my mom, dad, Colby, and Lincoln to meet Riley before we got to bring her home. The breeder had initially named her Heart Stone because the white spot on her chest was the shape of a heart.  I also set it up with the breeder to take her for a day at a time to ease the stress of leaving her litter too abruptly.  I remember the first time I got a “day pass” with her. My first stop was Sherwin in Provo to see Jake.  I remember her wanting to be as close as possible to your neck. She would put her front paws over your shoulder and snuggle up to your neck.  She was very timid at first.  We took her into the warehouse and tried to get her to walk.  She was so scared she just stood there shaking and whining.  But as soon as I held her she was okay again.  I took her back to her litter and I went home SO excited to be able to have her every day. 

We had only moved into our house for one maybe two nights before I was just took excited and had to bring her home.  I remember thinking the breeder was a little nutty because she sent me home with a paper towel soaked in pee from her litter.  She told me that if I put this outside where I wanted her to go potty that house training her would be much easier.  I was shocked, it really helped and Riley only had maybe 5 total accidents in the house her entire life.  I thought initially that I would crate train her.  But after trying to coax her into the pet carrier for a few days, I changed my mind.  We ended up using a dresser and a baby gate to box her in the corner of our bedroom and sometimes on the floor right next to me so if she cried I could let her know I was there.  It worked well for us.  She grew so quickly.  The week before we brought her home she weighed 11 pounds already.  She was so cute and clumsy. Her feet looked like they belonged to a different dog. They looked too large for her body size as a puppy.

When we first got Riley we had every intention of breeding her at some point and having adorable puppies to share with people who love Danes.  As time went on, we experienced at least 5 heat cycles with her.  It was such a mess and hard to keep up with. She was not okay with having anything put on her like a diaper, bandage, etc. She would immediately turn and bite at it until she could pull it off.   So we would try to keep her in the kitchen where we had tile floors and could clean up blood easier than on the carpet.  We also tried to have her outside as much as we could but she was only happy being right next to me or Jake.  She had to be touching someone at all times.  She would follow me around the house no matter where I was going.  For the first few months we had her she would even follow me to the bathroom. I would close the door and she would lay down with her nose pressed to the crack at the bottom of the door and whine until I came back out.  A few times I would let her follow me into the bathroom and she was completely content. She would lay or sit down on the rug and wait patiently for me to be done.  

        Riley was always the center of attention when we went anywhere in the car with her. Jake drives a civic and I drive an accord.  Riley loved to ride in the back seat with her head hanging out the windows. People were always shocked at how big she was and that she fit in the back seat.  We started out training her to being sure that Riley didn't bite or jump. She would only jump when we gave her the “stand up” command and hated to have hands in her mouth or any other body part. She would turn her head away from you if you tried to put your hand in her mouth.  Jakes nephews were around a lot and we made sure that they were able to pick on her without Riley getting irritated. 

            Riley loved going for walks.  We couldn't even say the word without her getting excited.  We would say “Riley! Want to go for a walk?”  Her ears would perk up and she would race to the front door.  She would spin in circles on the rug by the front door and follow right behind you if you went anywhere besides the front door.  We would get the same response if you said Car, Walk, Go, Play, Run, Bike, Ride, etc. So we would just end up spelling the words we couldn't say without getting her hopes up.She also knew exactly who Grandma and Grandpa were.  She knew exactly who you were talking about if you told her, “Grandma is here.” She would run to the front door and whine until my mom came in the house. 
            She was just about 3 years old when we got pregnant with Emma. We talked for a long time about the pros and cons of breeding her or getting her fixed.  We really wanted to breed her but the timing wasn't right. I couldn't imagine being 8-9 months pregnant or just having a newborn and trying to take care of a litter on top of having random people in and out of our house to look at the puppies.  We also didn't want to keep going through heat cycles where we had to lock her up or follow her with a rag. So we finally came to the conclusion that it would be better to get her fixed.  We talked about it and then just sort of forgot and then didn't have the money to get it done.  I finally decided to schedule it one day.  At the time, I was in the hospital after my car accident. Jake had woken up early to take her to the Vet and then came back to the hospital to be with me. They wanted to keep her overnight to watch her and make sure she was handling surgery okay.  They called us the next morning to tell us that Riley had passed away sometime during the night. They said she came out of surgery fine and was walking around, eating and drinking. They leave the animals alone during the night and when they came back in the morning she was gone.  She had choked on food or aspirated vomit, we're not sure. But it could have been avoided. It was a senseless, unnecessary, horrible thing to have happen.  Jake and I are completely heartbroken.  Riley was our baby before we could get pregnant.  She was a part of our family and we loved her like a child. I'm really trying hard to not feel guilty about her death. I wanted to get her fixed so that we wouldn't have to keep going through a month long cycle of her bleeding all over everything twice a year.  I feel extraordinarily selfish and cruel for putting her through an unnecessary surgery that she never came home from.  I've never realized how used to life with a dog I had gotten. It’s so quiet around our house and I have constant reminders that just kill me every time I notice them.  We had my parents come down to be with us before we went home. They were kind enough to go to our house and move any dog items to our garage where we were less likely to see them right away. Being home alone is scary to me now.  Riley was my guardian.  She told me when someone was walking up the driveway or when there was something out of place.  I never worried that anyone would hurt us while she was around. She was my doorbell, my guard dog, my floor cleaner, my reason to get out of bed in the morning.   She’s gone now and I can’t get myself to accept the fact that there is nothing in this world I can possibly do to bring her back.  Jake and I have tried to change our “normal” routine because it’s too hard to try and go on with normal life without her. We have never lived in our house without her. She was part of it.  I know it takes time but I’m tired of hurting.  I just hope it gets easier soon. 

You are severely missed.

We love you stinker.

The past few weeks

The past few weeks have been the hardest I've ever had to go through.  I feel like I've said that before. But every time I go through something hard, it seems like the worst. I'm amazed by what my body and my mind can handle.
Sept 20th. I went on the courier run for the hospital. I pick up blood, tissue, body parts, etc. and take them back to the hospital for the tests to be run.  I was driving in the courier car on my way to the last pick up I had for the day.  I was driving west on bulldog in the far left lane. The light turned yellow and someone coming the opposite direction turning left in front of me decided to speed through the yellow light. He hit the front left part of the car, ripped the tire off my car, and spun me around so I was facing the wrong direction in traffic.  I experienced shock for the first time in my life. All I could do was sit and stare at my hands, the smoke inside the car, and the airbags that deployed. It felt very surreal, I could hear myself breathing (ok hyperventilating)  but that was about all I could think or take in.  A woman who saw the accident tried to talk to me through the car window, but it was closed and the driver side window was completely covered by the curtain airbag.  The lady jumped in the right side and put her hand on my arm. She kept telling me to breathe and said something about me being in shock and that the ambulance was on the way.  It felt like I couldn't process any sort of coherent thought or words for that matter. All I could force out was "baby" and I pointed to my stomach. Then I just started bawling.  The lady in the car was asking me all kinds of questions. I found my phone and just pulled up Jake's number.  She asked if it was my husband and I nodded. She got out of the car when the EMTs arrived. They couldn't get the driver side door open until one of them kicked it open and ripped the deployed airbags out of the ceiling.  All the questions they asked me are just a blur now, but they put a neck brace on me, strapped me down to a gurney and loaded me into the ambulance. The woman who got in the car with me jumped into the ambulance with me. She started asking me where my pain was on a scale of 1 to 10. She also told me that she wasn't able to get a hold of Jake. The EMT sitting next to me leaned down and asked if I knew who this lady was.  I said, "I've never seen her in my life."  He then nicely asked the lady to exit the ambulance. I pulled out my phone and called Jake. He answered and I was still having a hard time talking and forming complete sentences. He asked what hospital they were taking me to, and I had to try and tell him a bunch of times. I was crying and shaking too hard to for him to understand. But he finally understood. They closed the door and started asking me more questions.  The ride to the hospital was short.  Jake beat the ambulance to the hospital. He was waiting right outside the ER and I was SO glad he was there.
They wheeled me into a room and I was immediately swarmed by doctors and nurses each doing their own thing. All I could see was the ceiling and the occasional doctor popping their head over to look at me.  The questions they were asking me didn't bother me until they asked if I could feel the baby moving. Then I started bawling again because I couldn't.
Someone came in to get a chest x-ray. They cleared the room momentarily and then it was right back to the swarming bees. One nurse was doing an ultrasound on the baby. One nurse was placing an IV. One doctor was listening to my lungs while another was asking me questions about pain and medications.  Another person was there just to make sure Jake was okay. I was very grateful for that.  Someone came and got me to get a CT from head to just above baby.  The contrast they inject made me very nauseated. My nurse was never far away and always had more pain meds to get me through whatever they were currently trying to do.    At this point I was still laying on the hard backboard I was strapped to on the gurney and it was very painful.  The MRI was the absolute worst.  Laying flat on my back hurt the worst, on top of being pregnant and everyone telling me to never lay flat on your back.   I was hurting while the tech was loading me into the MRI so the nurse came and gave me more pain meds before I went in.  I asked how long the MRI would take. When she told me 40 minutes I started crying again.  I thought I could be tough through the entire thing. I kept thinking it was almost over and then she would start another loud cycle again. I finally had to push the button to get everything to stop because I couldn't handle the pain anymore.  After that, they wheeled me back to the room I was in and my Mom, Dad, Ryan, and Jake were all there waiting for me.  I spent a couple minutes talking with my family before they took me out of the room again for x-rays this time. they did  x-rays of my right wrist and left clavicle. Jake even got to help so that they didn't have to move me off the bed again. I got back to the room and the ER physician came back in to talk to me.  They didn't find any broken bones but suspected muscle and ligament damage. They also told me that they could see the bruise from the seat belt across my lap on the MRI, that's how bad it was.  They had a labor and delivery nurse waiting for me and they told us they wanted to monitor the baby overnight.  I worried but a little relieved that I could leave the worrying up to a medical professional for the night and focus on feeling better.
     They took me up to the L and D floor and had me hooked up to all of the baby monitors immediately.  I have to say, I didn't have one bad nurse or healthcare worker while I was there. Everyone was very sympathetic and kind. One nurse even came in the room between 2-4 am to give me a back/shoulder rub and ask how I was doing and feeling. I was really grateful for the distraction and massage.  They watched the baby all night and mentioned that they were worried because she didn't seem to be moving as much as she should and also her heart rate wasn't fluctuating like a normal 25 week fetus.  The next morning is when they told us that they wanted us to stay one more night. They wanted to take me off the pain medication I was on and see if that had anything to do with why she wasn't moving like she should have.  They also gave me a steroid shot to help her lungs develop faster in case they had to deliver her early.  This completely freaked me out. I understand its better to be safe than sorry. But I asked the survival rate and the doctor told me it was about 60%.  That's when I started to really freak out.  They did more ultrasounds and a non-stress test where they watch her to make sure she is moving without any outside stimulation.  They did 2 non-stress tests the first one she failed but the second one the next day she passed. As far as they could tell, it was just the pain medication making her sleepy and that's why she wasn't moving as much.  We got to go home on Saturday around noon but still had to go back to the hospital for one more steroid shot. But before we got released we got some of the worst news we've ever dealt with as a married couple. Riley passed away.  But that deserves a separate post by itself.
     So after all that, I was left with some incredible bruising from where the seat belt was, lots of muscle and ligament damage/pain, whiplash, muscle/ligament damage/pain, and more emotional damage than I expected from something like this. I am incredibly grateful that I was wearing a seat belt. I absolutely would have gone through the windshield without it. I'm still quite jumpy and nervous while driving but I'll take the pain, bruising and nervousness over brain damage any day.
   
 

Masses of hospital bracelets. I even got one more after this picture.

Labor and delivery room waiting to go home.

Clothing they cut off in the trauma room.

Just a few of the battle wounds from the accident. 

   

Woah! That's a lot of blood.

FAQs/Comments about getting your blood drawn.

1. Does it hurt?
     Well it doesn't tickle. But its only a split second pinch, then it shouldn't hurt.

2. How long should I keep the Coban(band aid) on?
     Just long enough for the blood to clot. In general this isn't more than a few minutes. But we are talking about healthcare so there is always an exception. (Also, I think most people like some of the attention they get from walking around with a brightly colored piece of Coban wrapped around their arm, and that's fine, we all do it.)

3. Jeeezze that is a lot of blood! Why do you need so much?
      First of all, *I* don't need any blood from you, your doctor wants the tests done.
     Having said that, lets put this into perspective.  The average adult has 10-12 pints (5214 mL) of blood. When you donate blood they only take 1 pint (474 mL). Now, the tubes we use here at the hospital average anywhere from 3 mL -8 mL each.  The most tubes I've ever seen drawn on a single person is around 15. Even if we used the biggest tubes we have for all of that, you would only have taken 120 mL and still wouldn't even be close to the 1 pint (474 mL) they take from you when you donate blood.

The average adult body contains 5 liters of blood. (2 and a half of these)  

1 Unit/ 1 pint/474 mL of blood

6-8 mLs of blood

4. Why do you need so many different colored tubes?
      This completely depends on what tests your doctor has ordered. Certain tests require different forms of blood to run the test. Each color tube has a different additive in it. For example a lavender tube will prevent the blood from clotting. Gold tubes have a clot activator and gel inside so the serum can be separated from the rest of the blood. Green tubes do the same thing only they separate plasma. (Serum is just plasma without fibrinogen and other clotting factors.)

5. How long have you done this?
     I'm always torn with this question. I understand wanting someone who has "done this for years" and "hasn't missed in months." But at the same time what if you do have a new person? How else are they going to learn? I usually just say "nope, never done this before, just had a nurse show me how on an orange."

6. Don't miss...
     Probably my least favorite comment to hear from a patient. Seriously? How is this helpful? It does nothing but irritate and put pressure on me. I'd love to just hand the needle to the patient after they say that and tell them good luck.

7. Why does it take so long to get results back?
     The first thing is, most healthcare workers understand that you are very anxious to get results back. We know its your health that were talking about. But please understand you are not the only patient getting blood work done today or even in the last 2 minutes. Yes, even though you can't see them in the lab right now with you. Also, contrary to what many people think, lab techs are not just "monkeys that push buttons."  Running a test takes more than a couple minutes. (unless you're capable of changing science itself?) On an average day (that I've seen), most tests (best case scenario) from start to finish that we are able to run in the lab at the hospital take no less than an hour or two. (some take days to run, Bacteria has to grow, etc.). Many tests have to be sent to a special lab that runs more unique tests. In that case, you're looking at about a week. (depending on how far away this other lab is, how long the test takes to run, and how often they run said test.)  
 The techs running your tests cannot change science. Sorry.


Also, a few other random things about Phlebotomy:
Your Phlebotomist should never say, "do you mind if I don't use a glove (or rip off the finger of the glove) so I can feel the vein better?" Feeling a vein before you put gloves on is one thing, but if they have cleaned the site are actually drawing your blood, they should be wearing gloves. Not wearing gloves when doing a blood draw is a huge no, no according to OSHA, TJC, WHO, and CDC. Its also not smart of the Phlebotomist. You really don't know what the patient may have.

Drawing Children:
       Generally a child comes into the lab and is okay until they have to sit in the draw chair, or until we put gloves on. (that seems to scare everyone) Then we try to explain the process to the child (depending on how old they are) and proceed to try and have the parents hold the child still enough so we can get the blood. All to often we end up spending so much time trying to talk the child into it (meanwhile they are bawling, hugging their arms tightly and telling the parent they will do anything to not have their blood drawn) we could have been done and taken care of 8 other patients in the time we've spend reasoning with this one child.
Parents.  We don't like drawing from your children anymore than they like getting their blood drawn. Honestly. (a hard draw with tiny veins, kicking, screaming, thrashing....umm... no thanks.) That being said, it has to be done, and don't you think that 60 seconds of "traumatizing" your child is better than 30 minutes of "traumatizing" and trying to reason with them talking about how "if you hold still, we will go get (insert bribe here) when you are done." All the while, the child is still scared to death sitting there anticipating the worst.
To summarize, we don't mind trying to reason with the child for a minute or so, its understandable. But after a few minutes, its time to just get it over with. 

Baby Blog

I started a new blog. I'm going to use it as sort of a journal and then someday turn it into a book for the tiny human to read. Its private, but if anyone wants to read it, just let me know and I'll add you.
Here's the URL
http://babyhaglund.blogspot.com/

I've tried to keep quiet about this...

 

 I haven't really been saying much on Facebook or my blog lately.  In fact, I've been trying to avoid the two.  But finally, this is why, I considered spilling the beans every time I got online!!

Driving

I've seen this sign on quite a few cars lately.















But honestly, I don't get it. I'm not trying to be mean or heartless. But, what does this mean for other drivers?  I don't do anything different than I would do next to a car full of elderly people.  If I put a sign on my car that says "geriatric on board"  is that going to change your driving habits? Probably not.  The only thing I can come up with is that parents are proud of having a baby, so they want the world to know?  That's fine, just don't expect me to drive 5 mph behind you or change any of my driving skills.