An emergent situation.

So how was your Memorial Day, lovelies? Ours had all the makings of a fun and relaxing Monday. Here's how it started:

Peaceful, right? We were at Joe's friend Scott's place for the day...looking forward to boat rides, swimming and a cookout. From that dock, Alex ran all the way up to the house, SO excited to tell us about the fish he saw. And then he tripped on the sidewalk and went face first into the very unforgiving cement edge of the first step.

I'll spare you the photos of the wound, because ewwww they are mega gross (text me if you really want to see them), but suffice it to say we spent the first half of the day in Urgent Care and the second half in the ER. (Urgent Care was closest to the lake house, and they suggested we go to the hospital for a CT scan, but once there, it was suggested we opt not to expose his little body to that much radiation when he wasn't exhibiting any signs of brain damage. Was still a valuable trip, though, because the  ER docs took out the glue the Urgent Care docs used and stitched him up, instead. Hopefully that will lessen what's sure to be a pretty badass scar.) It might also be worth noting that I spent the day pretty much covered in blood, but I'm super proud of my Betty Homemaker skills because that brand new white shirt I opted to wear for the holiday? You'd never know it spent the day as a replacement for gauze. Bleach ninja, right here.

We never did get that boat ride. Or the swimming. But we are so thankful that our boy is on the mend and that it wasn't worse.

Teaching an old dog.

With baby #2 (and I can only assume all babies thereafter), you find your stride much earlier. There's no panicked "How do I do this?" or "What should I do when...?" moments. For the most part, you're more confident in your actions and if you're not sure or don't remember, you just fake it with confidence because, hey, you've been there, done that and at the end of the day the child is being fed, loved and changed...so chalk one up to the winning at motherhood column.

However, I have had my fair share of "What the hell do you mean?!?" moments in the last month or so. In just the short 4 years since Alex has been born, it seems like SO much has changed. Items I used (and SWORE by) with Alex have since been recalled, carseat laws have changed and immunization schedules have been altered. I simply have not kept up with the times.

Therefore, there are a few things I'd like to bestow upon you all...hopefully, to save some of you the trouble of learning it (or re-learning it) all over again.

1. Breast pumps are 100% covered under ALL insurances. It doesn't matter what kind of insurance you have, a breast pump will be covered. It was a law passed in 2012 under the Affordable Care Act. Even if you have one from a previous child, you can (and should!) get a new one. Just have your OB write you a prescription and fill it at a medical supply store (all hospitals have these, too!).
2. Speaking of breast pumps, these now exist. Your nurses can get you a stash before you leave the hospital (ask them to be generous...you're paying for it, anyway!). Your nipples can thank me later.
3. When in the hospital, ask for a binder. It's kind of the same concept as the Belly Bandit, but, you know, FREE. And wow...they are FAB. Mine was ordered in the hospital by one of the nurse assistants (without my asking for it), and I actually wrote her a thank you card and sent her a Starbucks gift card as a small demonstration of my eternal gratitude. It has helped so much with support from the C-Section and I honestly believe it's even helped in getting my figure back quicker. 

I'm quite sure there's more, but I've already forgotten more than I know. 

A baby story: The only part.

Oh, hey there. Remember way back when I used to tell stories 'round these parts? Yeah, I'm trying to get back to it, I promise!

We shall begin my Return to Greatness with the story of Harper's birth. If you remember Alex's story (in four very dramatic parts: here, here, here and here), I can promise you Harper's version is night and day. In fact, this is the only Part it requires.

As you are already aware (and much to everyone's surprise), Harper waited until her scheduled date of October 18 to arrive. Joe and I dropped Alex off at daycare a little early that morning (ever thankful to our Aunt Jane!) and arrived to the hospital around 7:30 am. What an eerie feeling to drive ever so calmly to the hospital, knowing your life is about to change forever. I can't explain how it was different from the dramatic water-breaking-hauling-ass-to-the-hospital with Alex...but it just was. It was the same level of life changing "stuff", but with a calm I can't really describe. Maybe it was the calm and peace of the dark of morning? Who knows.

Anyway, after a little bit of paperwork and hugs from Mom and Dad, I went to triage where they put in my IV (six attempts...they call me "pincushion"), did a quick ultrasound and I met my surgical team.

I actually walked into the Operating Room and hopped up on the table myself. What a difference it was to be in control in a calm, normal environment, vs. being wheeled in a whirlwind, emergent scenario. The OR looked so different this time, and yet it was the same room from nearly five years ago. All I remembered with Alex was the blinding overhead light, the blue drape and the white of the ceiling. This time, I took in the entire room, trying to memorize the last few moments of my life before Harper--the clock on the wall reading we were right on schedule, the baby station awaiting my little girl, the nurses and surgical staff in their blues and face masks, ready for the moments ahead.

The anesthesiologist was running a little behind, so I got to sit on the table for awhile, taking in all the pomp & circumstance of the OR team's very specific, very orderly pre-surgical routine. They counted all the things and did a "roll call," which was all surprisingly calming as I watching my surgeon pacing the floor in what I can only assume is his pre-surgery regimen.

The anesthesiologist came in and administered my spinal. To be honest, this was the part I was most terrified of, but it was nothing more than a small sting and some pressure. The weirdest part was as the drugs started to take effect...the warm, tingly feeling that takes over your body. Five minutes later, I was horizontal on the table and the team was in place.

Once the curtain was up, Joe was allowed in and came and sat near my head.

I was not tied to the table. I did not shake uncontrollably from fear and cold. In fact, the nurse anesthetist that was on my side of the curtain kept warm blankets on me the entire time, as she stroked my hair and kept me company. She had very cool glasses and her eye makeup was flawless. These are the things that kept me entertained.

We chatted with the surgical team the entire time--them keeping us posted on how things were progressing, and me keeping them entertained with questions like, "Will I ever wear a bikini again?" and "Please just take a little off the top."

When they were ready to take Harper out, the nurse put a mirror up for me so I could see her grand entrance--and she came out screaming with a pile of gorgeous, black hair. I cried. Joe cried. It was perfect.

As they closed me up, they brought Harper over to Joe and he got to hold her for the rest of the procedure. He put her near me, and since my arms weren't tied down I got to touch her face and kiss her head. She wasn't crying--and was perfectly content in her Daddy's arms for the remainder of our time in the OR.

When it was time to be wheeled into recovery, Joe got to transport Harper ahead of me and lead our little VeeDub parade down the hall. Once in recovery, I was able to nurse her and our family came back in pairs to meet our newest and littlest girl.

The days that followed in the hospital were pretty much par for the course. I got very dizzy and sick coming down from anesthesia, but once that passed I felt amazing. Joe and I enjoyed the sunrise from our room every day with a routine of hot Starbucks and the local morning news--just basking in the quiet and silence and perfectness of the here and now. Those days (and the quiet!) in the hospital will be something I cherish for the rest of my life.

In summary, Harper entered the world in a far less dramatic way than her brother, but I anticipate that she'll work to even the score as she enters her teen years. At least that's what I'm told.

We checked in as a family of 3 on a Friday and left as 4 on a Monday. Life's never been better.

And now we are complete.

Oh, hey there. Long time no blog. We've been busy around here...you know, adding to our family and stuff. In the last week we've gotten new furniture, a new shed, and a new baby. We sort of go all out when it comes to chaos and change.

But what you really want to know...we're all doing great. Better than great, actually. Harper's birth story will come later when I have more time to sit and thoughtfully write it, but the Reader's Digest version is that it was a night and day version of what it was with Alex. If I can go so far as to say it was an amazing experience, I will say that. Other than the dizzyness of coming down from anesthesia (which can't really be avoided), I felt and continue to feel amazing.

As for Harper, she's the world's greatest (and most beautiful) baby. If you don't already, check out my Instagram feed (link at right) to see loads of photos. She eats like a rock star and I'm not exaggerating in the least when I say she already damn near sleeps through the night. She goes down at 11 or 12, wakes up at 3 for a quick 2 oz bottle, and then sleeps again until 6 or 7. I actually feel like a human, instead of a more seasonally appropriate zombie.

As for Alex, he was BORN to be a big brother. He's so loving and protective of her and loves to hold her and feed her. He wants her to do EVERYTHING with him--here they are in a Sunday morning snuggle, something I hope continues at least into their teen years. He's adjusting well and I'm a proud Mom to report our house is a peaceful, happy, sleep-filled place for all.

For your viewing pleasure, here's the video taken when Alex met Harper for the first time (thanks for capturing it, Mom!). And yes, he's wearing toddler scrubs that say "big brother" on them...a real hit with the nurses! (Available here.)

 

I'll live in a van down by the river if that's what it takes.

I got two letters in the mail last week. Both from my OBGYN office.

One announcing the two! new! amazing! additions to their practice! One fresh out of med school eager to deliver 'da babies, and the other  a "friend of the practice" for years. Oh great, two more people that get to see my girlie bits between now and October. It's fine.

The second letter was not as exclamatory. My doctor, my beloved Dr. who has sliced open my stomach to remove one Alex Joseph Van Wormer, performed the procedure for my sweet tWIPs, and was there to hold my hand in anger and sadness with my bDub, is leaving the practice. In June.

The extreme tragedy is that I totally can't hate him for it, because he's going to some inner city hospital in the hoods of Ohio that treats the underserved and non-insured. And he's going to teach other doctors there how to be as awesome as he is.

But the internal struggle that I have is that I sorta do hate him for it because he's the only person I want holding that scalpel and slicing this child out of me. My scar from Alex is perfect & healed like a dream. He knows my body & what it's been through. I trust him implicitly.

I was able to squeeze in one last appointment with him before he leaves, during which I plan to kick and moan and groan and cry and otherwise act like a 13-year-old girl whose parents won't let her go to the movies past her curfew. Whhhyyyyy meeeeee?

There are 7 other doctors in the practice, and save the new girl (and one other one that should probably never meet me in a dark alley) they're all very competent, trustworthy, good doctors. So I'm sure I'll be fine. However, I do have a plan B to escape to the ghettos of Ohio (not hard to find?), shred my insurance cards and just do what I must. You know, mother's instinct and all that.

Quesadillas BE GONE.

Oh mercy, mercy, mercy. Where to even begin this post? I suppose we should start with about 1:30 p.m. on Tuesday, when Jane texted me to tell me Alex had thrown up. Ugh.

By the time I got there, he'd thrown up 2 more times. Then twice on the way home. Joe got home from work  around 6 p.m. and I am not exaggerating in the least when I tell you that I honest to cheese lost count at 20--the number of times he'd thrown up SINCE WE GOT HOME.

We called the pediatrician, and to no one's surprise they sent us right off to the ER at the risk of severe dehydration. Fast forward 5 hours and with a little help from some Zofran, popsicles and pedialite, we were on our way home. The next day, his other end started acting up so he stayed in Pull-Ups for a few days because his "toots had some poops."

 See also: why is he so big?!

And then, in the middle of the night on Wednesday, guess what came knocking on MY door? Yeap. Listen, I won't go into the gory, graphic details in the here and now, but suffice it to say I spent many, many hours seated ON the toilet while simultaneously hurling my brains out into a trash can, sweating profusely and shaking like a patient in detox. Never in all my life have I been that sick. It. Was. Terrible.

And then, as only the VW's luck would have it, Joey was next! He didn't get it quite as badly as me, but I did hear him wish death upon himself a few times from outside the bathroom door.

So what's with the subject of this post, you ask? Well, we watch our fair share of Doc McStuffins and if you aren't aware of this little cartoon gem, she's a "doctor" to her stuffed animals and makes their ouchies go away with her magical toddler doctoring. Every diagnosis is a "Case of the _____," so when Alex morphed from vomit to diarrhea, he self-diagnosed himself with the Quesadillas.

At least we had something to laugh about over the course of the last few days, right?

I'm happy to say we're all on the mend and looking forward to sunny, spring days ahead!

How'd you spend your Sunday?

Was it at the ER with a severely dehydrated 2 year old? No? Than it was sure as hell better than mine.

Long story short: Alex woke up on Sunday morning limp as a noodle, unresponsive to any questions and demonstrating some signs of labored breathing. I don't really remember driving to the hospital, but somehow we ended up at the Children's ER at Beaumont.

He had no signs of fever or infection, which was the most troubling. The doctors ran blood tests and x-rays of his chest and stomach to learn more. During the x-ray, the tech told Alex she was going to "take a picture of his bellybutton" so he pointed to it and said, "cheeeeese!" I die.

Anyway, his labs showed CO₂ levels of 17. The "normal" range is 22-26, so the kid was dehydrated. Severely. We had a barrage of questions for the docs--because he had been drinking and peeing healthy amounts all week--and even had a wet diaper that very morning. It's assumed that his body was just fighting off some sort of bug earlier in the week and was using all the "extra" fluids to do that.

So, he got hooked up to an IV for the  better part of 3 hours and got all juiced back up. And, miracle of miracles, after about 30 minutes into the drip, he was his normal, happy, silly self.

He was so brave when they put his IV in.
Also, doesn't he look BIG here? Sigh.

Feeling better...can you tell? :)

The last picture is proof that we were ready to be discharged and head home. And also that he has Poppi and Papa John wrapped around his chubby fingers. Papa John was on wagon duty and Poppi pushed the IV cart behind them. This was all just too much for me, truly.

So, in summary, that's not how I planned to spend my Sunday. But everyone is happy, healthy and hydrated back at home. Also? I like alliteration.

Baby Sam-e-oh.

I am home safe and sound - but leaving Kelli, David and baby Samuel was quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I kept it together until I got to the airport and then morphed into a hot mess. Let's just say people were staring.

But back to happy things...Alex saying "Samuel" sounds like "Sam-e-oh" and it's basically the cutest thing, ever. He says, "I yuv you baby Sam-e-oh" and then I am just a puddle on the floor.

Here are some web proofs of baby Sam-e-oh's first professional photography shoot. He's a dream for the camera, just like his Momma. Warning: your uterus might catch on fire from looking at these pics.

Photo credit: Our 365 Photography, Hartford Hospital.

I KNOW, RIGHT?!?! I can't even stand it. And just for fun, let's test just how strong those Talicska genes are, shall we?

NIEPHEW WATCH: DAY 5.

Still no baby. Oye.

I didn't vom in the hospital, though I did get that tingly feeling in my cheeks - you know, when your saliva starts to go crazy and you know you're seconds from vomming but you just have to hold it in because seriously everyone on the floor is actually like life threateningly sick and for me to vom would just be confirmation that I am a wuss and people would laugh, point and stare? Yeah, that.

Winding down the day with some afternoon wine with the Momma. I did it mostly to get her to sleep, because she hasn't done that in like, oh, 17 days. It worked.

NIEPHEW WATCH: DAY 4.

Stiiiilllll no baby. In fact, Kelli had a Dr. appointment yesterday and was told "no bueno" on any progress whatsoever. Well, I'm sure they used more appropriate medical terms, but you get it.

Actually, I think Niephew is already wise beyond his/her months. You see, Momma has a bit of the yuck right now, so I think (s)he's waiting until Kelli is 100% to make the grand entrance.

And only because it rains when it pours when my family is involved, my Grandfather (Mom's Dad) has taken one step forward and 432,678 steps back in terms of his health. I'm actually taking tomorrow off work to go home to see/be with him. As a general rule, I don't "do" hospitals (unless for the happy occasion of births) mostly because I find them to be smelly, cold, dark and quite frankly, the biggest Debbie Downer of all time. So, please give a little shout out in your prayers today that 1) Gramps will start to make progress and begin to heal; 2) I don't vomit whilst in the hospital visiting him; 3) Baby Niephew continues to wait patiently for both Mommy and Great Gramps to get better; 4) Alex doesn't try to eat the hand sanitizer at the hospital. I'm sure at some point he will also attempt to use the urine tray as a toy, but we'll burn that bridge when we get there.

Thanks, peeps.

I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

...at Beaumont Hospital, that is.

How did I get here? Well, I ran out to the chiropractor and to CVS today. At about 5:15, Joey called me. Here's how that conversation went:

"Hi, Honey."

"Hey, babe. Are you still in the area?"

"Yeah. I'm at CVS. Do you need me to pick something up?"

"Um, I need you to pick me up. At work."

"Why? What happened?"

"I sort of fell down the stairs and jacked my ankle up."

"Oh my God! Are you ok? Are you serious? Do we need to go to the hospital?"

"I'm ok. Security is with me. And I'll probably need an X-Ray."

"Be right there!"

And with that, I was off to pick up Joe. Alex decided that would be the PERFECT time to throw the temper tantrum of all temper tantrums. Seriously he was crying so hard there were times he wasn't actually breathing. Lucky me. Stress City.

I picked up Joe, dropped Alex off with our amazing neighbors (Thank you, Dave and Sue!) and now here I sit, blogging from the waiting room at Troy Beaumont whilst my graceful husband sits in X-Ray.

He was walking down stairs. Seriously.

In other news, the kid next to me is pure entertainment. He's 13 going on 40 and fell off his bike. Actually, his version of it was a bit more entertaining:

"I was, like, riding my bike and my stupid shoe got caught in the spokes. I was going home from a friend's house, you know. Anyway, I fell and my leg squashed my nads and that hurt real bad. But after I recovered from that I realized I couldn't feel my arm."

For his future wife's sake, I hope his nads heal nicely.

For my sake, I hope Joe's ankle heals ASAP.

Walking. Down. Stairs.

They're Always After Me Lucky Charms.

Oy. I've been anxious to post this one for some time now, but wanted to give the world and all its money hungry medical giants ample time to send me all of its bills.

HOLY CRAP IT IS EXPENSIVE TO HAVE A BABY.

Seriously, if you're out in the world having frivolous, unprotected sex, get yo' self some birth control ASAP. Unless you're trying to have a baby, and then by all means, carry on and prosper! Unless, of course, you don't have health insurance...then GO GET A CONDOM!

Let's review the numbers, shall we?

- Bill from Anesthesia Associates - $2,222.00 (before insurance)
- Bill from OBGYN - $257.00 (after insurance...they only show that portion on the bill...I can only imagine what it was without it)
- Bill for Alex's care - $3,601.61 (before insurance)
- Bill for my care/everything else - $14,896.82 (before insurance)
TOTAL cost (minus what I don't know from the OBGYN) - $20,977.43

All I can say is thank you, corporate job, for your insurance. I complain about you a lot and actually rarely enjoy being inside your 4 walls, but today I actually appreciate you and all you are.

A Few Things I've Learned...

A great deal has happened over the course of the last (almost) 48 hours since WIP's been born. Will I ever call him Alex? There's so much going on around us, yet my world only seems to spin inside this hospital room and its surrounding hallways. I saw the sun today, and it was a glorious sight to behold! We can't wait to take him outside and play.

Yesterday was rough, but one of the small highlights of the day was taking a shower. My Mom (who I'm pretty sure is a saint for doing this three times with her own children) was here to help me. She's absolutely the best Mom to me and Grandma to WIP...thank you so much Gramii Joette - you helped me feel human again.

In related news, I thought I would share a few of the things I have learned since this all began at roughly 7 pm on Tuesday. I'll elaborate on the more entertaining ones later, but you can get the gist.

• My husband is the most amazing man on the earth. Hands down.
• Water breakage is WEIRD. And it's not just a one time thing. It's like the Energizer Bunny - keeps going, and going, and going, and going...
  
• Nurses can be hit or miss. There are great ones...and there are crappy ones. I love the great ones - particularly Kelly B. from Labor and Delivery at RO Beaumont. I only cursed at her twice and she was STILL lovely to me.
• Breastfeeding is grosser than I originally anticipated. And it hurts a great deal more, too. But, I am still going strong...no bottles yet!
• Hospital food rules.
  
• The swelling in the cankles does NOT "go down immediately" as so many *cough*liars*cough of my friends let on. I'm told it will be "a few weeks."
• Disposable hospital underwear are the BOMB. Almost as comfy as maternity pants.
• The day they take out the catheter and IV was a slightly better day than Christmas.
• I have seriously underrated showers my whole life. They are one of life's simplest and greatest joys.

I've got a slew of visitors coming in over the next few hours, so I'm going to go watch some more trashy daytime TV before they arrive. (Seriously...what was Connie thinking when she married Maury?) And, I will have you know that today I've already rocked a shower and even managed to swing a semi-hairstyle and minimal makeup application. I'm a Somerset MILF-in-training, after all.

And I'm so, so, so in love with this kid that I can't even type words to express it. I was going to make today's post all about him, but I can't type those feelings without becoming a blubbering idiot...and I'm NOT about to mess up this mascara job.

Not Yet...But Almost.

I can only assume from some of the frantic emails, texts and voicemails from friends that I've frightened the blogosphere with my lack of early morning posts today. I have a delicious excuse, I swear: We were in triage. Again.

As you may remember, I had my weekly Monday checkup at the doctor this morning. My BP was high (again) and there was protein in my urine (again), so instead of doing the bloodwork in the office and waiting 24 hours for the results, she opted to send me right to the hospital in order to get the test results within the hour.

So we were thinking the hospital trip was just a way to get the test results faster and a glorious excuse to get some Ben & Jerry's, so imagine our surprise when the doc said, "So, swing by home, grab your bags and head to the hospital. I'll call to let them know you are coming."

Umm... "Grab our bags, you say?"

"Yes, if there is even the slightest trace of anything in the tests they will run, we'll induce today!"

Pause to pick my heart and Joe's jaw off the floor. I make a mental note, pleased that I shaved my legs this morning. Still didn't get that pedicure, though, dangit!

Obviously, since I'm posting this, we're now at home, resting. It was a long day - probably 5 hours at the hospital, and I was violated in every way possible. I got blood drawn...poorly, and have the bruise on my arm to prove it. To ensure my urine test was as pure as possible, I got a catheter. I can't even explain to you what it's like to pee without actually peeing. I promise to devote an entire post to it someday soon. To finalize the violations, my day was completed with an entire arm up my va-jay-jay as Melissa the nurse checked my cervix. Seriously had no idea it was up that far. Also, Melissa dear, if you are reading this, please cut your nails ASAP to prevent tomorrow's patients from experiencing what I had to today. Thanks.

In summary, I'm still prego. I'm going on Wednesday to the doctor's office for a non-routine BP and urine test and still have my regular Monday am appointments scheduled. It's all up to WIP now.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, I did get that pedicure on the way home. Better safe than sorry.

That Escalated Quickly.

To say that Friday didn't go as planned is the understatement of the year.

Remember when I posted about boobie leakage and how gross I thought it was? And remember how that very same night I experienced it for myself?

And remember how on Friday I posted about swelling? Well, it turns out that little episode of pufferfish syndrome got me a free ticket to triage.

Seriously.

I casually mentioned to a coworker on Friday that one leg was particularly more swollen than the other and she insisted that I call my doctor immediately - letting me know that unilateral swelling wasn't "normal." Let it be known that I have not once called the doc throughout this entire pregnancy for a question - I never wanted to be "that mom." But I knew I needed to make the call, so I strapped on my big girl panties and dialed the nurse.

She asked me a series of about 500 questions, and sounded strangely more alarmed with each of my answers. Way to put me at ease, lady. She told me she wanted to talk to Dr. Seltzer and would call me back.

Five minutes later my phone rang. Here's how that conversation went.

"Hello, this is Kristi."

"Hi, Kristi, this is Jolie from Somerset OBGYN. I just talked with Dr. Seltzer and she wants you to head to triage immediately."

"Triage?! Like, the HOSPITAL?"

"Yes. It's the unilateral swelling that's concerning her. It's a symptom of deep vein thrombosis. I already called the hospital and they know you are on your way."

Lovely.

I know a thing or two about DVT - mostly because my boss nearly died from it about a year ago. But I had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't anything that serious because I had none of the other symptoms...but better safe than sorry, right?

To make an incredibly long story short, we spent the better part of 3 hours in triage on Friday. (And Joe so was SO much cooler than I thought he would be when I pulled him out of a meeting to tell him he had to take me to the hospital...like rightnow. I honestly thought he would freak, but he was cool as a cucumber and was like, "Let's roll.") The doc ruled out DVL and clinically diagnosed me with what I like to call "lopsided kid" syndrome. Turns out that WIP just prefers to rest on the left side of my body, so he's pressing on all those veins and arteries, hence the unilateral swelling. I'm going to see Dr. Noomie (my faboo chiropractor) today to see if she can "center" him.

The best things about our trip to the hospital can be summed up with the following list:

• We now know exactly how long it takes to get to the hospital from work.
• We've got the parking situation down to a science.
• They did another ultrasound, so we got to see him again!
• We got to hear his heartbeat and learned the little piggy weighs 6.4 lbs!
• I was able to witness women in triage actually going into real labor...and none of them were cursing or screaming or wanting to die. Rather reassuring.
• We got Ben and Jerry's when it was all said and done. Hooray for the Mint Cookie shake, that's all I've gotta say.

I hope that our next visit to triage will result in a "He's here!" post. Stay tuned...just 4 weeks to go!