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Bill Roper's Journal
Knees, MRIs, and Katie 
24th-Jan-2007 10:52 pm
The doc yesterday ordered an MRI, so daisy_knotwise, Katie, and I headed off toward the designated site today.

I have never had an MRI before. Gretchen warned me that they had at least been able to keep her head out of the tube when scoping her knee, but that turned out not to be a problem here, as the facility we went to had one of the Open MRI machines. They just rolled me under a big magnet and spent about 45 minutes running a half-dozen different scans. I ignored the noise and passed the time running through lyrics to songs I'd written, most of which were on the current album in progress. Sally would approve of the machine, though, as it has a very steady beat.

I came home and set up the work laptop which Doug had revived and brought over for me. Unfortunately, our software won't run, because the Stingray libraries hadn't yet been rebuilt with the fixes that I made to get them around their problems with Windows XP themes. But that was ok, because I could download those from a file at work. Unfortunately, it was a slightly-less-than one gigabyte file and the server crashed before the download could finish. Gleep. Ok, let's try rebuilding the libraries. But unfortunately again, the Stingray build process doesn't work right now unless you use their funky build tool. And the library source had never been installed on this machine, just copied from my desktop, so something was missing from the registry and the tool refused to run. I'm now looking for the Stingray installer so we can get out of Laptop Held Hostage mode.

Gretchen went out to pick up a pizza before she left for the Capricon meeting. Unfortunately, it was so late that by the time she returned with it, Sam and Bonnie were already here, as Sam was dropping off Bonnie for Gretchen to take to the meeting. So no pizza for Gretchen right then, but Sam was good enough to bring me a couple of slices in my recliner chair. We talked comic books, as I observed that I was now able to maneuver around with a single crutch, which I was now referring to as the "Freddy Freeman" look. Sadly, saying "Captain Marvel" didn't produce any great improvement in my condition.

Sam was good enough to change Katie's diaper before he left -- he thought that there had been a poop event, but it was merely gas. And he was really short on sleep. So I sat down with Katie in the stroller and bottle at hand. At various times, she consumed most of two bottles (the second of which I got up and made), while I managed to read the newspaper, review the tracks for my album, talk to Gretchen's brother jeff_duntemann, and eventually start reading my e-mail with a baby slumbering on my chest.

catalana had dropped me an e-mail asking about her Capricon schedule. I found her number on phonebook.com and gave her a call. I assured her that I really should be able to pick her up from the train station by two weeks from now. As far as her at-con schedule, well, I'd have to check, because the committee meeting was in a cellphone hole in the basement, so until they came up for air, nothing would be forthcoming.

About this time, Katie started to scream. Loudly. Frequently. Now this is not an uncommon occurrence when the person holding her is on the phone, but hanging up didn't help. Then I felt this wetness on my shirt.

What we had was a leaky diaper. Apparently, Sam hadn't quite tightened it up enough, being unfamiliar with modern disposables. ("Hey, look! Velcro!") And I was going to have to change it, no doubt much to daddy_guido's delight.

See, I've managed to go a bit more than two months without changing Katie's diaper, largely due to the fear induced by Gretchen's explaining to me the horrors that will occur if I wipe the baby in the wrong direction. This is apparently not a problem with little boy babies, although there you have to watch out for fountains, it seems. Guido made a point of doing a diaper-changing demonstration for me on an empty dealer table on Sunday at Confusion to show me how easy it was.

And these things are, no doubt, easier if you have two good legs. It was about this time that I discovered that I could shamble about with no crutches and a Frankenstein's monster type of motion. (I decided to skip the whole "Putting on the Ritz" bit.)

The only surface large enough, high enough, and vaguely clear enough to change Katie on without bending over (knee, you know) was the kitchen island that was currently under most of a stuffed pizza. Ok, that could be cleared to another counter. Wipe the grease off the island, discard my shirt, find the changing pad, find the diapers, find the wipes, find the sleeper.

Oh, crap. The sleepers are all upstairs. Grab a crutch, shamble up the stairs, grab a sleeper, shamble back down the stairs, put everything together, and then grab Katie from where I've left her in the stroller, butt facing the sky -- a position which is not making her particularly happy, but which is preventing her from soiling the rest of the environment.

Of course, this was a seriously poopy diaper. This may have been the poopiest diaper that Katie has ever produced. This was a three-wipe special. It might have been two wipes, but there was poop concealed in places on the front of Katie where poop should not be concealed. It was pooptacular.

I got the diaper on her (and asked Gretchen to inspect it when she got home -- report: "A little loose, but not bad."), got the sleeper on her, and put her back in her stroller. Interestingly, there was no screaming once the diaper was removed, despite Katie's usual objections to being naked. Apparently, this diaper was so poopy that nakedness was a distinct improvement.

And now Gretchen is home and is going to make me the hot chocolate that she promised to earlier.

Thank God.
Comments 
25th-Jan-2007 05:35 am (UTC)
Wow, that sounds like a diaper of epic proportions. Glad you managed to change it safely...

25th-Jan-2007 02:27 pm (UTC)
Or at least an epic of diaper proportions ...
25th-Jan-2007 03:22 pm (UTC)
Oh sweetheart, that's NOTHING. Tatum went through a stage where it went up her back - a couple of times a day, until we found diapers that contained the biohazard better. As one of the girls that watches her at daycare said "How DOES a baby get poop up by their SHOULDERS?"

I would say something about this being the universe getting you back for not changing a diaper for 2 months, but I don't think I have to... I think someone else is likely to make that observation without my help.
26th-Jan-2007 03:33 am (UTC) - I'll save you the trouble of looking.
Revenge is a dish best served warm and steaming...bwahaha.

I DO feel badly about you being injured when it happened, but you DID kinda have it coming.

Front to back - it's just not that tough to remember, dude.

and wipes are like alarms for measuring a fire. A three-wipe diaper is NOTHING. Seriously.


Sounds like you did well - we'll have to award you a "purple pooper" or something to commemerate.

The real glory will be the day she decides to take one of her precious little feet while you're changing her, slaps it against her poop-covered butt, and then flings the poop across the room with her foot.

See what you have to look forward to?

(Deleted comment)
25th-Jan-2007 09:53 am (UTC)
I remember the NoD which Ellie created just after we had done the whole birth certificate thing, and were having a celebratory pizza - she was wearing a fetching outfit with sewn-in feet.

I needed to babywipe between her toes.

Spectacular.
25th-Jan-2007 10:13 am (UTC)
The first sign of an impending Nappy of Doom tends to cause both parents to remember urgent appointments

Or indeed to simultaneously remember that "I did the last one"...
25th-Jan-2007 07:29 pm (UTC)
I've heard it described as An Explosion In A PooP Factory. Except that the word used was somewhat stronger than poop... :)
25th-Jan-2007 11:33 am (UTC)
Just wait 'til she starts drinking grape juice.
25th-Jan-2007 12:25 pm (UTC)
One of David's worst diaper explosions would have involved putting him in the bathtub if we'd been home.

As it was, I had to change him out in the restroom at Red Robin. I think I used most of a travel pack of wipes doing that one change ::sigh::
25th-Jan-2007 12:59 pm (UTC)
As a Daddy of a Daughter, I'll assure you the cross contamination thing isn't as worrisome as one might think. A proper all over wipe down will keep things hunky dory.
25th-Jan-2007 02:29 pm (UTC)

qtrhorserider always tells me I missed the best part by not coming along till scarfgirl and scarfboy were five and two respectively. Stories like this keep me from being persuaded, and for the record scarfboy agrees with me.

25th-Jan-2007 02:42 pm (UTC)
Lemme tellya, M's had some poop events that required 5 wipes. Oy.

At least you're keeping your sense of humor about the whole thing. I chuckled when you mentioned "Puttin' On The Ritz".
25th-Jan-2007 02:51 pm (UTC)
Mere once had a diaper explosion just as she and I were getting off an airplane. Thank god it happened late in the flight. It was all over her and me. It was a huge mess.

Just wait until she's really wiggly and doesn't want a diaper on...
25th-Jan-2007 02:52 pm (UTC)
Hey Bill, I know it isn't funny but... it is funny. :)
You made it two whole months without changing the diaper? That is much better than I ever managed. Be glad for modern technology. Back in my day we had cloth diapers. Guess who ended up with the job of laundry. :)
Take it easy on that knee. A second injury will not be pleasant I can assure you. Six months on crutches when I did it.
Hugs.
25th-Jan-2007 03:51 pm (UTC)
I'm sure you didn't enjoy it at the time, but, if it's any consolation, you tell it really well and made all your friends giggle. It's a gift.

Hey--there you go! A filk about the Nappy of Doom???
25th-Jan-2007 03:51 pm (UTC) - Older daughter
as a breastfed baby of somewhat incomplete development, for a while would poop once a week. We never counted the numbers of wipes used on those occasions. When possible, it was a joint effort to clean.
25th-Jan-2007 09:04 pm (UTC)
Of course saying "Captain Marvel" wouldn't work. Freddy Freeman now has to say "SHAZAM!" to make the change.
25th-Jan-2007 09:08 pm (UTC)
When they were little, I cheerfully volunteered to feed my nephew and niece. I lucked out of diaper duty, most likely because both my brother and my sister-in-law realized that it would not have been a good idea.
25th-Jan-2007 10:30 pm (UTC)
Much of that story sounds very familiar :) Just replace not walking due to knee to not walking due to C-Section.

Pooptacular is a Peter word as well for those variety of diapers. Apparently the mother of all Alex poopy diapers occurred at daycare where it exploded from its confines, ran down his leg and pooled on the floor under the high chair he was sitting in.

Sorry your first diaper was such an Even :)
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