Advice from an Internet "Baby Sleep Expert" to a Sleep Deprived Father

"As with babies, make sure that you have a set sleep schedule throughout the day, a consistent bedtime routine, and that your soon-to-be toddler can soothe herself to sleep."

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. Our baby has a completely set sleep schedule, and he's still waking up three or four times a night. Fuck you. And he's a boy, not a girl, asshole.

"To teach your baby how to fall asleep on her own, put her down in her crib while she's still awake and periodically check on her. Within a few nights, she will be falling asleep quickly and easily at bedtime."

Fuck you. That's not true. He starts crying if we put him to bed while he's still awake. If he goes down when he's asleep, he'll wake up and he'll start screaming like someone is flaying his skin off of his bones. How is that teaching him anything other than "the louder I scream, the quicker someone comes to my room?" Do we just let him scream? How is that healthy? Fuck you.

"You'll also have to decide what to do if he wakes up at night, can't soothe himself back to sleep, and ends up crying for you. It's fine to go in and check on or comfort him. But if he wants you to stay and play with him, gently remind him that nighttime is for sleep."

Gently remind him? Yes, I explained the entire thing to him in a soothing voice. He didn't fucking understand it, because he can't fucking understand words. Plus, he was crying really loud, so he couldn't fucking hear me. Fuck you.

"Remain consistent in what you do for several weeks. This will help your baby return to sleeping through the night once the temporary issue is resolved."

Great advice. Fuck you. We have been consistent, and it hasn't worked. You are all assholes. Fuck.

Look, I get it. We screwed up somewhere, and now all of our lazy nighttime habits have ruined our child's sleeping ability forever. But we did everything you said and he's still broken.

Goddammit...being a parent is hard. Ugh.

For Your Health! (part 7)

Well, I actually started (but didn't publish) this "part" several weeks ago. It started with this overly optimistic byline: "Hopefully this will be my last health-related post for a long damn time."

This is because several weeks ago I believed that my health problems were behind me, and since "5 doctors (including two cardiologists) with over 125 years of experience" had put me through a battery of tests, including 3 EKGs, a chest x-ray, and echocardiogram, blood panel, Holter monitor, and a stress test. All of this medical expertise and technology had found exactly "jack squat."

So I thought I was done. I thought I was in the clear, and that this whole goddamn thing was in my mind, not in my heart.

Well, what happened?

"It."

Specifically, the "racing heartbeat" thing that I'd avoided for several weeks happened again. And it happened after a weekend of mind-dulling fatigue that didn't seem to get better with rest.

I was sitting at my desk about 15 minutes before I was supposed to go home, and I got that old familiar feeling of chest tightening, and radiating pressure up my neck. This was followed by a racing heartbeat, which I remembered to clock this time (I was up to 120 BPM).

Eventually the heartbeat slowed to normal levels, but the anxiety, dizziness, and disorientation remained. I seriously debated whether or not I should go into the emergency room. I'd done it before and they found nothing. I mean, I'd been to a stinking cardiologist, and he found nothing...what chance did some ER doctor guy have of spotting something...in-between the drunks and the old people who frequent the urgent care centers?

Turns out, a pretty good chance.

After an aborted attempt to ride home, I realized that "dizziness" and "scooters" aren't a good match, so I drove to the nearest hospital and checked in. I was given a very rote EKG by a very rote EKG guy named "Tyler." I then received a chest x-ray, and was shown to my bed (in a room shared by a whining 10 year old child and his mother, as well as a very drunk Hispanic man with severe constipation). People came in and out, drawing blood, giving me aspirin, taking my dang copay money, et cetera.

Eventually the doctor showed up, armed with my EKG readings. He talked to me for a bit, got some background on my condition, and showed me the results.

"These are not normal readings."

I could've kissed him.

I mean, weird reaction to a positive medical test, sure, but I've been chasing this damn thing for months now...and to finally see something on the tests matched how I felt was pretty amazing.

The bad news, of course, was that I was told I had to stay overnight in the hospital...which kinda' complicated the next day's festivities (which included Disneyland, believe it or not).

Anyhow, my wonderful-amazing wife came to the hospital and stayed the night on the room's chair-bed while various people came in and out, taking blood, measuring vitals, offering me "spiritual counseling" (ah..."St. Joseph's" Hospital...), and just generally poking me full of holes.

This is all okay with me, of course. At some point today, a cardiologist is supposed to come meet with me and "set a course" for diagnosis/treatment. It's taken a long time (I have not actually seen a doctor since the ER guy last night, and it's just past noon now).

So as it turns out, this will not be my "last health-related post". No sir, you poor bastards will get to hear me whine and wheedle about my health problems for a least a few more blog entries. You're welcome.