Not Really An Update…

Bitty is doing pretty well with Simon* and even reminds me to put it back on her in the morning. 

*the heart monitor. Yes, she named it.

{Bitty & Simon}

She does come straight home and try to take it off, but she’s supposed to wear it until bedtime; it only takes a little bit of convincing (read: candy) to get her to snap it back on.  The little stickies that hold the electrodes onto her chest irritate her skin and leave little red circles.  I know that’s what’s bothering her about wearing it so I let her keep it off last weekend. (Bad parent, I know…)

Funny story: I took Bitty to the birthday party of a friend from school last Saturday. When the other little girls at the party saw her, they yelled ‘Bionic Bitty!’ (Okay, they did not yell Bitty; they yelled her real name. No, Bitty is not her real name ; )  Calling her Bionic B--- is how we convinced her that wearing this monitor would be cool – I guess it worked.

Anywho, here’s the information that I currently have: so far the monitor has only caught what the lady at the U* called ‘sinus tachycardia’, which I think is just a fancy name for ‘elevated heart rate’.

*that’s local speak for the University of Minnesota.  Bitty is being seen at their pediatric cardiology specialists office.

A normal ‘resting’ heart rate for a child her age is around 75-115.  When Bitty is pushing the button on the monitor, it’s catching a heart rate of 150 to 160.  Sometimes. Because other times, it’s only reading 102 and I think she just wants to go sit in Nurse A’s office.  Because Bitty thinks Nurse A is the bomb diggity and she has a white board in there that Bitty draws pretty pictures on.

The way it was explained to me is that the cardiologist is looking for a heart rate above 200; that is what they described as SVT.  I don’t think they’ve caught anything that high on the monitor, although we’ll have to address why she’s having a resting rate of 150-160 at some point in this process.

{Mom! Take my picture like this!}

That’s really all the information I have right now. We will meet with her Dr. soon to discuss the results of monitor and to see what we do next…

How We Got Here…

Bitty is dealing pretty well with the event monitor that she has to wear.   She’s only required to wear it while she’s awake, although the other night it was beating so quickly that it woke her up; I groggily awoke to a high pitched gurgling/whimpering noise.  I almost took out my nightstand in my frantic attempt to get to her, then scooped her up and held her until she fell back asleep.  It took me a long time to work up to leaving her room, but I needed to go downstairs and tell MC what had happened.

Thankfully though, that doesn’t seem to be the norm.

{Getting the monitor}

She cried when I asked her to attach the leads (the wires that connect to the monitor) to the electrodes stuck on her chest this morning though. So far we haven’t caught an event, due to the fact that most of the time it’s almost impossible for the adults to tell when it’s happening.  She definitely knows, but she’s so busy that she doesn’t take the time to tell us, or even to push the button on the monitor herself.  We only find out later that day, when we’re asking the questions about ‘crazy heart’ (her words) that she realizes she forgot to tell someone.

But back to the subject at hand: How did we wind up with a six year old wearing a heart monitor?

We were packing for our spring break trip down to Arizona and I realized Bitty had been a little under the weather. Runny nose, tired and a tummy ache, but no fever or vomiting.  I packed her off to school and realized that if she did have something more than a cold and we had to take her to an urgent care down south, our insurance would blast us with some ridiculous ‘out of range’ fee.  So, in the interest of her health and our financial security, I made an appointment to check for what I thought could possibly be strep.

The nurse did the quick strep test and then the Dr. came in to check her over. He went to listen to her lungs and immediately sat back, looked at me and said, ‘so, how long has that been going on?’

It was when Bitty answered and said, ‘Oh that happens all the time!’, that I sheepishly had to admit that I had felt it once before.  I left the pediatrician’s with a script for an antibiotic (the strep test was positive) and instructions to get an EKG.

Side note: why do I most often see the abbreviation as EKG, when the test is an electrocardiogram? Granted EKG is easier to say than ECG, which sounds like you’re sneezing if said too quickly…

So right now, we sit in a kind of holding pattern while we wait to figure out what’s going on. Is this SVT?  Will it go away on its own? I don’t have any answers right now, and that is more frustrating than anything; some kind of diagnosis would as least lead to some kind of known action on our part, instead of this standing around feeling useless, and sometimes, helpless.

Philippians 4:6

What We Know…

Bitty is being tested for SVT, or supraventricular tachycardia.  What we know is that she is experiencing an extremely rapid heart rate that seems to have no immediate (external) cause.  The good news is that it really doesn’t seem to bother her, although occasionally it makes her dizzy* enough that she needs to sit down. 

*When the heart is beating that quickly, it’s not pumping oxygenated blood effectively throughout the body. The dizziness is a result of that brief lack of oxygen. Think of the feeling you get when you’re blowing up a balloon; it’s like that.

She was fitted with an ‘Event Monitor’ yesterday; it will record an episode when she pushes a button. The monitor consists of two sticky pads that attach on either side of her chest and the monitor itself – a small round piece of plastic with two buttons – one to record an ‘event’ (the rapid heart rate), and one to send the information at the end of the day.  I have a feeling that the company that receives this info is going to get pretty irate at us pretty fast, as Bitty seems to press the send button every time she plays. 

It’s hard to look at this kid and say there’s anything wrong; she looks perfectly happy:

 

Well, I take that back.  She is pretty much fed up with the monitor already; it is impeding her play time and that’s important when you’re six. 

The plan is for her to wear the monitor for 30 days in the hopes of catching the rapid heart rate.  However, there’s a chance that if she has quite a few episodes sooner than that, she won’t have to continue to wear it the full 30 days.  So… if it’s going to happen, we’re hoping for sooner rather than later; she keeps begging for me to take it off of her, and I don’t know what to say to convince her to keep it on without scaring her.  Right now I’m sticking with, ‘you NEED to keep it on’ and some, ‘because I said so’.

That’s all I’ve got for now – thanks to everyone for your thoughts and prayers.

 

Philippians 4:6

A Few Selfish Sentences…

I am supposed to be cleaning all the junk that’s lying around our house, leftovers from our recent trip to Arizona. But nothing is done and I’m still in my pajamas at 11 am. 

{I spent an hour last night picking out Bitty’s outfit for today}

As long as I was pretending to be some expert, easily spouting out medical terminology and assuring everyone that this thing is really nothing, just a little thing to get mended up… I was fine. 

{It seemed incredibly important to me that she look her absolute cutest for this appointment}

But yesterday, I realized how scared I was.  When she came to me, told me ‘it’s happening again’, and I picked her up and felt the frantic beating of her heart… I wanted to hold her close and squeeze her and never let go… but I set her down and told her to go rest until it stopped. 

{I tore apart all her bins until I found the matching hair bow}

Because I can feel it when I’m holding her. And it feels like it’s beating out of her chest. And that… makes it very, very real. And suddenly, I am selfishly wishing this wasn’t happening to her and that I didn’t have to be so worried.

 

Philippians 4:6

Conversation in My Home…

MC and I took the BLT to see We Bought A Zoo awhile back.  In one of the first scenes, Matt Damon’s character is talking to his son.

Matt Damon To Son: You got an F! An F!!!

Bitty: Why is his dad mad that he got an F?

Me:  It’s not a good thing.  It’s the worst grade you can get.

Bitty:  OH! But mom, I wanted an F. I thought it meant Fabulous!

Me: And what about now?

Bitty: No, I think I will stick with not being fabulous then.

: D

Gifted and Talented…

There is something that has really been bothering me lately, and I thought I’d share here on my little space on the internets.  Deep Breath… and here I go.

I have a problem.  Recently, I have heard from people I know and people I barely know about how awesome their kid(s) are.  That’s great.  Be glad your kid is awesome, it’s your right as a parent. 

But I'm tired of hearing how awesome your ‘gifted’ child is.  I’m tired of hearing how proud you are that they were chosen to be in their school’s gifted and talented program.  Actually, I’m not tired of it… I’m really rather angry.

I have three amazing kids, as most of you know.  I have one daughter that reads at an eighth grade level and one that reads at a third grade level.  Should I be be more proud of Bitty who, because of her reading skills, gets to attend ‘enrichment activities’ and is pulled out of her class to do higher level reading than her first grade peers? 

Because, if I’m being completely honest here… I had nothing to do with her extraordinary reading skills.  In fact, there is nothing Bitty did to reach that level of reading, either.  I taught her to read the same way I did with my older two and whatever God-given skills she has are inherent to her, she only enhances them with her go-gettem attitude.

That brings me to Lovely L… a girl who is in her school’s ‘reading help’ class because she has always struggled with reading and writing.  This is a child who will never be in any schools’ gifted and talented program.  And guess what?  That’s okay.  Because this is also a girl who has worked her rear off to get to the level of reading that she’s at today.  I am no more or less proud of either of my girls for what programs they may be in.  

My point?  I think pointing out how ‘gifted’ your child is belittles and unintentionally hurts other children, who through no fault of their own, will never be that ‘gifted and talented’ child. 

That’s not to say you shouldn’t be proud of your child’s accomplishments.  By all means, be proud!  But in doing a shout out on the internets, can you please refrain from letting everyone know how ‘gifted’ your child is?  Because, chances are, you (and your child) had nothing to do with do with getting them there.  God or (if you don’t believe in God) genetics did.

And because I’ve never ranted before (at least here on the blog ; ) and I’m feeling bad about it, here’s a picture of some penguins:

{Penguins are awesome}

Obviously, the middle penguin is telling the other two penguins that his chick just got accepted into the Gifted Penguin Program for Exceptional Chicks, and the other two are kind of offended.

Rant over…

But what do you think?  Am I being overly sensitive?

Wordless Wednesday: Bitty’s Tooth…

 

{The tooth fairy gave her two dollars for her very first lost tooth!}