Sterile technique and a Nigerian beat

Today we did our first solo infusion via Harris port.  We did so good. Seriously.  Derek was able to hold/restrain him by himself and I don't even flinch anymore when I stick him.  (Kinda morbid, but there you have it.)  Harris still cries when we hold him down, but he cries when I hold him down for a diaper change too, so...

Upon the advise of our hemo nurse, we played some of Harris' favorite music during the infusion to see if it would help him stay calm.  Once we got the needle in and he realized that it was not so bad, he stopped crying and let the Nigerian rhythms fill him up.  Mormon Tabernacle Choir:1  Harris:0.

Monday we're rocking it old school. Rad.



Good luck little Harris.  May all of your infusions be fast and all of your factor be clean.
-Mom

Bleed Shmeed also known as I'm Not Afraid Of No Stinkin' Needles also known as the First Infusion

This is what happens when you think that it looks like fun to scale the leg of a piano at your church, but then you think "hey, I'm 6 months old.  I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to try the whole walking thing yet."  Then, because your confidence has been shaken, you lose your grip and try to spin around like a tortoise flipped onto his back, but instead you land on the foot/leg/edge of the piano... and you think to yourself  "well at least I led with my head... oh wait... umm... a little ice here?"


Then, because emergency rooms are good times on Wednesday evenings, and because you don't fancy walking around with what appears to be half a $.25 gumball sticking out of your forehead... you book yourself a room on over there for your first infusion.

Nurse... nurse... doctor.... nurse.... insurance checker lady... nurse...nurse... needle.  (You knew she looked like trouble... with her purple gloves and beeping thermometers and fancy "oh, you're so cute" talk...)

It's all okay though...because your mom is there, with the singing and the whispering in your ear and her boob exposed to half of OHSU because she really believes that anything can be cured if you just put a little breast milk on it ... and if she can nurse on an airplane while sitting between a lesbian whose partner is expecting their first child and is super chatty about it and a 275 pound man who clearly didn't know that that's what those things are for... then she can nurse you on the exam table while being pumped full of clotting factor... especially since she's been saying over and over "This is not scary.  I can do this" all the way from your house to the hospital... where you got the medicine that makes your head look like this... which is a lot better then how it looked when you got there.


So it's all good ...but all the same... if you ever see that nurse again... you're gonna give her one of these...