hemangiupdate
the last thing this baby needs is more laser treatments. too bad for her! today we took her for her fourth and not-quite-final installment of hemangioma zappage. (i believe i have blogged treatments one and two.)
the debate, you'll recall, was fierce. in the end, i ceded to mrs nice guy's demands that the benign tumor be attacked with a laser, even though said tumor is temporary, both because it could have potentially impeded her breathing and because i ultimately do everything mrs nice guy tells me to do.
the treatments have been going great. the nose is still a wee bit bulbous and purplish. but after each zap session, the color starts to dissipate and the swelling goes down. the laser "surgery" itself is always quick: the doctor storms in efficiently with a bevy of nurses (he is apparently one of the best private laser surgeons in new york city, which is perhaps why all his nurses and interns are lovely, lovely young ladies). donning protective eyewear, one nurse and i hold the baby down on the table; another nurse places gauze over the baby's eyes. then the doc leans in with a laser device that looks like a really fancy pen. he places the tip of the laser-pen on the baby's schnozzle, sparks shoot out here, they shoot out there, and then he's done.
this is not to say that the baby is thrilled with her treatments. sure, the hemangioma is receding, mom and dad are happy and the baby can breathe. but! she is a sneaky little critter with her own little avenues of revenge. after today's laser zappery (which, we are told, feels like a rubber band snapping on bare skin -- not totally pain-free, but not exactly being disemboweled alive), mrs nice guy took the kid into another room to nurse her with her all-powerful breasts. the baby ate. the baby was soothed. the tears dried. then the baby smiled! with her little blackened nose, she looked helplessly pathetic and adorable. and yes! she still loved us! she even giggled at me!
then she looked right into my eyes and took the biggest crap of her short life. mustard babyshit (or, as i call it, musturd) was everywhere -- up over the back of her diaper, all over her pants. we changed her right there, mrs nice guy and i managing to smear shit all over each other. with the diaper off and musturd all over the examining table, the baby decided there could be no better time to urinate, squirming all the while and mixing the sludge into a hideous toxic cocktail.
we cleaned her up as best we could. then as i cradled the baby, telling her how well she did during her laser treatment, she looked up at me and smiled again! she still loved me! then she puked vibrant white baby barf all over my red shirt. with jeans on, i looked very patriotic. then my lovely wife went back to work and i boarded the subway with the incredible excreting machine only to be accosted by well-meaning dipshits.
a note to new york city subway riders: when you see a tired, vaguely sad, turd-bestained fellow riding a brooklyn-bound train wearing a baby strapped to his chest, please please please DO NOT lean in and say: "oooh. what a cute baby! WHAT HAPPENED TO HER NOSE?" he does not know how long he can go on suppressing the unbearable urge to kick you, full force, in your reproductive organ.
here are some answers that will in the future, perhaps, shut down the overly-curious stranger:
- "she was crying and wouldn't sleep so i punched her."
- "she has face-cancer and three days to live."
- "what happened to her nose? more like, what happened to your ugly fucking face?"
- "i was teaching her how to smoke and she caught on fire. stupid baby."
- look down at her and start screaming: "OMIGOD! HER NOSE IS TURNING BLACK! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP MY BABY!"
- "eh?! me no speakee dipshit."
- "we got her a nose job for her four-month birthday!"
- "they taste better blackened."
14 Comments:
I just came across your site...love reading it! Our babies were born on the same day...Perhaps my son knew this today when he decided to spread his musturd all over me as well?!! Feel free to stop by my blog :) http://spaces.msn.com/members/icecheeks/
Rule number one is to give ONLY positive comments to parents you actually meet in person. No matter how the baby look there are always good things to say. It's just not worth the risk of being kicked in your reproductive organ... Having lived in NYC I know that's not uncommon but it still hurts.
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OMG...I would have to approach you just to hear one of those remarks first hand!
And high five to BNG...excreting three separate bodily fluids in a minute's time is pretty impressive, even for a baby:)
honestly- BNG is much smarter than you giver credit for. The crap was for injecting her with drano, the pee was for feeding her pyrodoxine hydrochloride and the barf.. well she was just zapped with a "laser."
And as for teaching her to smoke, it'll be much easier for her to learn when she's drunk.
and your word verification box just made me swear in uzbeki.
if you can't swear in uzbek, where can you swear?
"eh?! me no speakee dipshit."
Parents all over the world would love to use that...There are days....
I love your website! I get my daily laugh here. Thanks for all your stories and insights!
Ewwww.....half digested breast milk stinks to high heaven!
I'm totally LMAO at your responses, how I would love to be able to be witty when some dumbass spouts off.
You never fail to crack me up...
My co-workers are starting to ask what I'm laughing at... :)
WAHAHAHAHAHA! *snort* Dude! That description of Baby Nice Guy's "triple threat" was classic! I nearly did a spit take all over the computer screen. :-)
LOL!
"they taste better blackened."
has to be my favorite
Mr. Nice Guy,
I so "feel ya" as the kids say...
Our son (who is now 20) was in casts for 14 months (from the time he six weeks old) from his toes to the top of his thighs.
It took all my restraint not to respond sarcastically to everyone. I once did, though, in a fit of frustration (remember this was in 1985) to one woman, "Well, I sure didn't beat him, lady, if that's what you're thinking."
This goes right along with the idiots who asked me (in FRONT of our two sons when they were just tots) when we were going to "try for a girl", as if there were anything wrong with having boys. (Which I had wanted anyway--I didn't want a girl like me, or a relationship with a daughter like I had with my mom as a kid!;) )
I love the "I was teaching her to smoke" comment... haha.
Baby poop never ceases to amaze me. The previous record was having shit shoot two feet out of my daughter's ass, spraying the changing table, the package of wipes, the stack of diapers on the corner, the floor lamp next to the table, the floor, and the wall. But the other day, while we were shopping in a store not equipped with baby changing facilities, my baby pooped so forcefully that when I went to change her diaper I had to wipe shit off her shoulder and her arm. How?!
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