I'm officially 37 weeks pregnant, and the time can't go by any slower. Although most SLPs in my district took the summer off before resuming work last week, I was one of three SLPs who worked the extended school year summer program. I'm not returning to work for the next school year, so I decided I might as well. But the summer program was only a few hours a week for four weeks of the summer, and then it was over.  So most of my summer consisted of moving to our new apartment, decorating and organizing it, visiting with family members who came in town here and there, and, well, being pregnant. It really does feel like an occupation sometimes, with how much effort it takes just to do simple things. My sleep schedule is WACK. Currently it's a vicious cycle of getting sleepy during the day, falling asleep for a few hours in the late afternoon/early evening, being WIRED at night and not being able to go to bed before 2 AM, then sleeping in till 10:30 or 11:30....and so it continues. Dallin's friends will hear my voice over Discord and be so confused how/why I'm still awake, since usually I go to bed hours before Dallin. But I figure why try to fix my sleep schedule when the baby will have me on an even wackier sleep-wake cycle? 

A few other things have happened this summer:

• My high school friend Hayden got married at an art museum, and it was absolutely lovely.  The next day Hayden toured the rest of us around the local aviary.
  

• I went paddle-boarding with my BYU friend Haylee. It was a very windy day and I was glad I didn't fall off the paddle board, because there is no way I could have climbed back on with my big belly! Afterwards we enjoyed ice cream and were able to talk and catch up on the years we have missed together.
• My cousin Paige had her baby, and now I am SO anxious for my baby to arrive. Some babies are born looking a little squishy from their delivery, but Paige's baby is so cute and perfect.
• Dallin's sister Olivia moved up here, and she has come over a few times.  The Urness parents also fly up a lot to work on rebuilding the house that burned down. Over two years later, it is so close to being done!
• We got a text that Dallin's brother Cooper fell off a ladder and dislocated and broke his wrist. This is within the same year that Cooper had appendicitis AND also tore his knee followed by a really complicated surgical recovery that ended in some level of sepsis.  When we found out about his wrist we were just like, you have to be joking.  

• Dallin and I went to a Tabernacle Choir concert with our friends Kenzie and Connor, who we haven't seen in ages since they moved. 

• My friend Chantel called me about a seriously injured kitty she found on her way to work, likely hit  by a car. He was calm and had no open wounds but had very limited mobility--we were concerned about paralysis. I picked up the kitty from her and took the poor little baby to my house to rest quietly on a soft blanket in my bathroom while called I around multiple rescues and organizations. I tried to assist him in getting water or eating softened food, but he was uninterested.  I was worried a shelter would euthanize without giving him a chance, but after waiting an hour for Best Friends to open at noon, I discovered they only had automated messages on the phone and it took way too long to figure out they don't even typically take animals from the public. It was the same for every other rescue, and I couldn't even get an actual human on the phone to tell me the best place to take him. This poor little guy needed treatment. But of course all the shelters in the valley closed at noon for a 1-2 hour lunch break.  Because of where my friend found the kitty and after being assured by their website that they try to avoid euthanasia whenever they can, I decided to take him to the shelter thirty minutes south of me. I gently placed the kitty in the carrier, trying hard not to jostle him too much even though he never acted in any way to indicate pain. The girl at the front desk of the shelter was very kind and gave me the intake number to call back in case he was able to be treated and adopted by me or a friend.  She said the vet would evaluate him and see what the best thing would be for him. I gave the intake number to Chantel and told her she was welcome to call.   I realized that it was likely not going to be a happy ending, and Chantel realized this too.  We hoped that the injuries weren't as severe as they appeared, and even then we'd both seen Instagram accounts of paralyzed cats going on to live happy lives...but we also knew that these outcomes were unlikely.  The vet ultimately decided to help this sweet little kitty pass over to the next life.  Chantel and I wish there is more we could have done for him, but at the end of the day we are grateful he didn't have to suffer a worse death, which is what would have happened had Chantel not found him. 
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  • My cats don't know it, but they are enjoying their last few weeks of the quiet. Arlo loves laying on my belly and Atticus too has been increasingly snuggly. It could be because he is no longer a kitten, or it could be all my pregnancy pheromones. People keep saying, "Aww, I bet your cats will be so cute with your baby," but honestly I'm just hoping they can tolerate him, haha. I'm aware that babies come with a lot of weird new sounds and smells! 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  We got a cat backpack since the cats are no longer allowed outdoors--the location of our new apartment is not safe for kitties!

  
  

  We got a automatic cat feeder so that the cats would stop waking me up in the mornings, but instead Atticus has learned that if he knocks the feeder over or even drags it around, he can get some extra kibbles out of this. Of course then it doesn't go off because it's unplugged, and he wakes me up anyway.

  
  
  
  
   
   

Saying bye to Rachel

My work baby shower

The last month of summer hasn't all been sunshine, though.  Rachel, my sister who has been my best friend all my life, moved to Alaska with her husband.  For the months leading up to their move we tried our best to hang out regularly. We binged European sci-fi shows together, went on walks, and tagged along with our husbands and their buddies, the only two girls in the group. 

We also encountered a few rescue kitties, including Sako, a young cat found outside the college dorms by our brother's girlfriend  (the same girlfriend who found my Atticus two years ago).  Rachel had thought she would never have a cat, but within ten minutes of meeting Sako her husband Dick decided they should foster him until they found the original family or until they moved to Alaska.  They were living short-term with our friend Mug, who consented to housing the cat.  Sako looked a lot like Dick's childhood cat, and we originally thought he was a purebred Russian Blue, which would make him hypoallergenic for Dick. Unfortunately as Sako matured over those few months, the allergens started to kick in, but alas it was already decided that Sako would be a permanent resident at Mug's.  It wasn't long after taking in Sako that Mug, Rachel and Dick found a pair of 5-week-old kittens and their mama in the backyard under the deck. We contacted a rescue who recommended that we trap the kittens so they could start being socialized.  (The mom ideally would be trapped, spayed and released back to where we found her).  We all took care of the kittens, making sure they were fed and comfortable in the house until another foster family picked them up.  

The evening before the move, my parents flew up. Dick, a hunter, had been saving all of his best meat for a special occasion but now had to grill it all up for the family because it wouldn't save on the trip.  I had spent the whole day with Rachel, helping her pack and going with her for a last bite of food she wouldn't have in Alaska (such as In-N-Out), and finally decided to go to bed and drive back down at 5 in the morning to say my goodbyes.   Dick had a giant trailer packed full of all their belongings, and with my parents helping to drive their other vehicle they were ready for the 52+hour drive to Alaska. 

Dallin and I also moved, albeit only 20 minutes away from where we previously lived.  I wasn't allowed to lift boxes because I was in my late second trimester, but I had started packing a few weeks before the move and meticulously labeled all the boxes so that people would know where to put them on the big day. We had started collecting furniture prior to the move, and combining two big sofas plus baby furniture plus the growing stack of boxes all in one small apartment made me and Dallin (and even the cats) go absolutely bonkers.  We couldn't sell the old sofa until we could clean it, but that would be impossible until the cats and their summer shedding were relocated to the new place.  Moving to our new apartment, which has three bedrooms and a garage, felt like moving into a mansion. It's been almost three weeks since we moved and tonight we finally finished the rest of the decorating! Our wallets are a little sad, but I think it looks really nice! We had help from Dallin's little sister Hannah, who is considering going into interior design. 

Arlo and Atticus have quickly acclimated to the new place and love running up and down the stairs.

Dallin's stepdad is a pilot, and he flew up Dallin's sister Hannah the day Dick and Rachel moved away. I think Dallin wanted to keep me distracted, and Hannah had talked about how much she enjoyed Utah when she stayed with us about 3 years ago. That first night we went to the town carnival, and I bought fancy grilled cheeses for the three of us while Dallin and Hannah rode on the rides.  That week we watched scary movies, went to the aquarium, went on hikes, and drove around rich neighborhoods. To quote Hannah, "I need to be rich so I can have a house like that."  More in the next posts! 

• After getting paint in her hair, one child asked for privacy while she bathed. I agreed but said she needed to keep her older in the bath with her and keep the door cracked so I could hear them chatting and know they were safe. Well after a while they called my name to reheat the water, and low and behold they had colored the entire tub and themselves with Halloween face painting pastels. I had to cover the entire carpeted hall with towels, wrap them up and have them go downstairs to the basement shower to clean up. After 20 minutes in the shower they said they couldn’t get it off so I gave them several dish rags to scrub their skin with. Then I got to work cleaning the tub. A bottle of toilet bowl cleaner, some laundry bleach and a whole container of Comet later, it was finally clean. It took hours. 
• This weekend I walked way too far with the kids to Winco so I could get the last ingredient for their dinner, only to find out Winco doesn’t accept credit cards. After watching me get frustrated at the ATM because I couldn’t manage to pull out cash, this really nice guy offered to buy the ingredient for me and wouldn’t let me Venmo the $3.30 back to him in return. 
• After Winco I was cooking and distractedly poured water and rice into the family’s InstantPot without the pot, instead into the electricals.
• The next morning the two big dogs got into a fight and I was scared to death as I straddled the back of the aggressor trying to pull her by the collar as she latched onto the face of the other. It took a full five minutes before I was able to walk the two of them backwards while they kept fighting and push the aggressor out the door. I was pretty hysterical all day. Luckily the only thing that happened to me was a tear in my pants and some scratches and bruises on my leg, probably from their nails when I intervened. The mom of the family said she is going to rehome one of the dogs now.
• Funnier was when we were shopping and the younger girl saw the grape juice and exclaimed, “Yum! Blueberry milk!”

The past ten weeks I have been very busy learning how to be a speech pathologist in the medical setting.  The speech therapists there are divided into four teams: stroke, TBI, spinal cord injury, and poly-trauma. I was on the poly-trauma team, so I worked with a lot of people who suffered from craniotomies, injuries not just specific to head or spinal cord, critical illness myopathy, and "Long COVID"(being so severely impacted by COVID that there usually required being trached). If I understood correctly, the Long COVID patients were those whose overall physical and cognitive function declined due to the virus attacking their whole neurological system. While at the rehab hospital, they worked on regaining use of their limbs (the severity depended on the person), their swallow, and learning strategies to compensate for executive functioning deficits such as decreased memory, attention, problem-solving, and reasoning. So far research is seeing that cognitive function can take 18 months or so to resolve. 

I worked a lot with dysphagia, which meant a lot of swallow rehabilitation. I taught swallow exercises and used AmpCare, in which small electrodes are placed on the neck to pull the muscles up and forward to provide resistance while the patient swallows. I monitored and modified patient diet textures to maximize safety. I helped with FEES (in which an endoscope is threaded through the nose to get an aerial view of the larynx and watch if a patient is protecting the airway while eating green-dyed foods) and administered MBS (in which the patients eat/drink barium of different textures to watch the safety/efficiency of the swallow on an X-ray).  I loved being able to see patients upgrade from NPO diets (all food via feeding tube) to an oral diet, or from a modified oral diet (e.g. pureed, minced, chopped, soft, etc.) to more regular textures.  

I also worked on cognitive skills, and though I didn't work with it a lot directly, I loved seeing aphasia treatment. To see people with Broca's or Wernicke's Aphasia go from an inability to communicate their needs to having so much more control of the words in their mouth was incredible!  

At the rehab hospital, patients worked hard so they could go back home.  It was a powerful experience indeed to see people who suffered such severe illness or injuries who were able to overcome so much.  

I tried barium. It was nasty.

My supervisor did an endoscopy on me so I could know what it felt like and so I could see my own vocal folds. Apparently I have a very sensitive pharynx because I was coughing, gagging, sneezing and sputtering.

 Today was my last day working at the treatment facility because I am starting grad school. I told them in my interview that I could only work through the summer, but still I dreaded today. 

I was working with the same "cottage" of 10-16 girls for most of the time I worked there, but ever since I came back to work after having corona, I was instead place on the quarantine cottage with patients who contracted the virus. Because of that, I didn't have the chance to give my other cottage a heads up about quitting. When I went to tell them goodbye, they had already heard the news, and most of them hugged me and didn't want to let go. Two of the girls, however, were  very bitter. These are girls that I feel especially bonded to, girls that have been in the facility for a very, very long time. One of them refused to look at me.  "It's just how it always is," she muttered.

I sobbed on the way home.  What if, by leaving, I undid any of the good I might have done for them this summer? Have I just reinforced the abandonment theme in their lives?  I feel racked with guilt.

You see, the theme on Instagram lately has been about ending human trafficking and pedophilia.  These girls that I work with have been through hell and back--most of them sexually abused, many by their own family members. These girls have lived through neglect, drug abuse, physical abuse, desperate self harming and suicide attempts. 

And yet I abandon them. 

All these girls at the facility have changed my life.  I didn't realize how peachy my life was until I met them and saw their resilience. I hope that as they one day discharge and remember that they are worth more than the hellish backgrounds they come from. They are cared for, and I am one of the people who cares. 

I just wish it wasn't against privacy laws to keep in touch.

• I learned how to tube-feed.
• In a conversation with a thirteen-year-old high-functioning boy
• Me: "If you were a demigod, who would your parents be?" 
• Boy: "Zeus or Poseiden."
• Me: "I would probably be a daughter of Demeter."
• Boy: "No no no. You would be a daughter of Aphrodite."
• Me: "Wow! I take that as a compliment!"
• Boy: "You should."
• One of our girls who could hardly say any words, but loved to switch letters with you in a team effort to recite the ABCs. In the mornings, she would do an excited waddle-run to the van. She loved both babies and puppies and would sometimes mix up those two words, but in either case would oh-so-gently give them kisses on the head. One hot park day, she was being pretty grumpy, but we started squirting each other with her water bottle and next thing you know we spent the next hour dousing each other with water from the drinking fountain. She would say "moh" to ask me to fill up more water in her bottle, and I couldn't even finish filling it before she would dump in on my head and say "moh" again! I have never seen her giggle so much, and she kept taking my arm to kiss it. 
• A boy who who also didn't speak much who would go off on random vocab spurts. In the theatre, we almost thought he was swearing when he shouted "OHHHHHHH-SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIN. OCEAN!" He was the king of nursery rhymes, and one time a staff whipped out the ukelele and prompted him to sing parts of Old McDonald.
• A boy who got one of the male staff to do "baby voice" and for the next month would always say, "Austin! Say goo-goo-ga-ga! Austin, say bee-bee-ba-ba!" This was the same kid who had a speech and language disorder and called Ashley "Ash-daddy."
• A boy who was typically in his own little world but would suddenly say things like, "Miss, I want to see a picture of heaven and hell."
• A restless boy who loved water so much that he would pause his daily 6+mile walk that the staff always had to accompany him on, and literally jump-skip to random fountains to splash in.  
• A boy who loved to whip out a finger gun and pretend to shoot people, and literally couldn't say goodbye at the end of the day without jumping back into the van to hug and/or wave goodbye to every individual person.