What a pipe dream that was. Doing Camp NaNoWriMo with a preemie in the house. Right up to the day it started, he was sleeping regularly and not fussing overmuch. Going along with his schedule well. Then July hit like a lazy hurricane, and now Owen is refusing to sleep without massive amounts of time and work, and his schedule is completely out of whack.
I may still get to write this month, but I’m sure as shooting not going to get to do it on a regular basis.
Which is just as well, I suppose. For now. My health has hit rock-bottom, and I’m still waiting on even ONE of my doctors to actually do their job and help me not want to die every waking moment. I have two options right now: firm treatment with new drugs (most likely enbril/humira), and prednisone with anti-inflammatories.
I was doing the latter, when I ran out of the anti-inflammatories. Doctor has apparently refused to let the pharmacy give me any more. So I’m horking down eight 200mg Advil a day. So classy.
Rheumy had a plan for treatment, but now he’s saying that he wants me to come in to discuss treatment. Which is JUST AWESOME, since he’s booked up past the nose and basically impossible to see right now.
Last night, Owen was up for most of the night. I actually started crying when I realised that he’d spent an hour and a half fussing while I tried to put him to sleep. He needs that time to be spent sleeping or he is going to get sick or worse. It’s the most stressful thing, and I can barely handle what’s already stressing me out.
This morning, he was awake and fussing any time I wasn’t holding him (and sometimes when I was holding him) for an entire three-hour period between feeding times.
We’ve guessed he might not have been eating as much as he wants, and since there’s not enough of what my mum and I jokingly call “source” milk, we broke out the formula. He drinks it just fine, although the second time we tried it, he nursed for a little while. So I can’t tell if he’ll keep on drinking the formula reliably or not.
On an upside regarding Camp NaNoWriMo–or rather, the hope of writing more this month–is that I have some character notes, a few pieces of the story world, and a general idea of a couple of things I want to do. The plot, of course, has not shown up yet. I feel it must be waiting in the wings, eating popcorn and chortling at me.
Now I need to pass out so I can sleep for some length of time. Although probably it will only be ten minutes.