Tag Archives: that cynking feeling

Would I Lie To You?

by Cyn, that cynking feeling

I lie to him.

The doctor opens the door with a knock, greeting me with a smile and a question that I can’t hear. This, of course, is the reason I’m sitting in the examination room.

“Which ear?” he repeats.

“My right,” I respond. This is the truth.

“How long has it been bothering you.

“Oh, since last month,” I fib.

I add in a half-truth.

“It started when my son had a cold.”

It’s true that I first noticed the fullness and buzzing in my right ear when my son got sick–in September. I caught a cold at the same time as him and have been snuffling ever since, my ear aching and distorting all sounds that come in on my right side.

But this is a Friday afternoon at the quick clinic after all. And there is no quick explanation for why I’ve waited three months to seek treatment.

So, I don’t tell the nice doctor how, last fiscal year, I used all but one day’s worth of sick time and the few vacation days that I had in my new job for Philip. There was the wellness check that prompted the autism screening. There were all of the missed days of work to get an evaluation and admission to preschool, plus IEP meetings, conferences and other visits to observe in the class or meet with therapists. When July 1 rolled around, my vacation and sick leave were reset, but I’ve already used several days for things related to Philip. So when I started having problems with my ear, I didn’t want to use my limited paid time off for a doctor’s appointment. At least not for one that was for me.

I don’t tell the friendly doc that I knew I could come to the quick clinic without missing work, but that I was embarrassed. How was I going to explain why I had no primary care doctor? That the last time I actually scheduled a doctor’s appointment was for my post-natal visit? Oh, wait, the last time was actually with a shrink for the postpartum depression after I cried during the entire post-natal visit. Then my previous employer switched insurance companies. I made it a priority to find a pediatrician for Philip when it changed and again when we moved. But for myself?

So, I lie to the doctor. I tell him I’ve had the problem for several weeks instead of several months. I don’t want to explain to him why I waited.

And I don’t want to reveal to myself why I am now sitting here finally getting a diagnosis and treatment.

I could lie to myself and say I went because I had the time. I was excused early from work following the staff holiday party.

I could lie to myself and say that I went because the noise at the party had really bothered me. I felt like I couldn’t hear anything. I began to fear that if I put it off any longer, my hearing would be permanently altered.

I could lie to myself and say that I finally thought enough of myself to take care of myself. That I believe I deserve good health as much as my son does.

While there is a bit of truth in each of these lies, I know in my heart that I had planned this trip to the doctor the day before. That’s when I noticed that Philip seemed to have a stuffy nose. That’s when I decided I needed to get healthy not for me but because my untreated cold could make my son sick.

Honestly, I’m already feeling better.

Would I lie to you?
Would I lie to you honey?
Now would I say something that wasn’t true?
I’m asking you sugar, would I lie to you?

–Eurythmics

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I’m a working mom with a stay at home husband living in the midwest. I started blogging about my son on his first birthday, intending it as an electronic photo album. Our now 3 1/2 year old son was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder earlier this year. The blog still serves its original purpose while also helping me think, learn and adapt to life with autism.

This post was originally published HERE and used with permission.

2 Comments

Filed under Remembering to Breathe, Taking the next step

Stroll With It, Baby

by Cynthia, that cynking feeling

I was in the best shape of my life before I got pregnant.

I have always been a chubby person. I was a fat kid who grew into a fat adult. Family lore has it that “cookie” was my first word. I love to eat. Unfortunately, I eat when I’m hungry, when I’m not hungry, when I’m stressed, when I’m happy, when I’m bored, when I’m busy, when I’m with people, when I’m alone, etc. Food is my friend and my enemy.

I don’t remember what year it was, by I do recall the moment when I said to myself, “This is enough.” I was in a hotel over the winter holidays. I was en route from visiting family in Ohio back to my home in New Mexico. During this particular trip, I had exchanged my reward points from one of those hotel loyalty programs for a free stay in a rather upscale room. I was checking out the fancy bathroom when some impulse prompted me to get on the scale. I don’t know if it was the wonderment over why a hotel would even offer a scale or idle curiosity, but I got on nonetheless.

I did not like the number that I saw on the digital display.

That number staring up at me was just too much. I knew this explained why I got winded climbing a flight of stairs. I knew this explained why I was tired all the time. I knew this explained why I was developing a second chin.

I knew I did not want to be this weight.

After returning to Albuquerque, I started watching what I ate and walking the dog more.  I knew this wasn’t going to be enough. Serendipity stepped in, and I received a postcard advertising the grand opening of a Curves in my neighborhood. I joined a few days later.

That was the first step I needed in getting my health back. Over the next few years I managed to lose close to seventy pounds. I moved back to Ohio, started a new job, got divorced, changed jobs, remarried, gained back and lost a few pounds but, through it all, I always transferred my membership to the local Curves.

I was getting closer to my goal weight and decided I wanted to do something more. Again, fortune stepped in and I received an email about the Breast Cancer 3-Day. This was in 2007, the first year the event was to be held in Cleveland. I signed up and set about training for the 60-mile walk. After completing the event, I felt strong and capable. I knew I had to do it again.

I registered for the 2008 event and set about training. I had lost a bit of motivation since the mornings were still cold and dark. I was also feeling queasy most mornings. I figured that I must have eaten something off or wasn’t drinking enough water. I wasn’t too worried about intense training as yet. I was still fit from the previous summer’s event and at my lowest weight since high school.

One morning, I threw up while walking the dog.

After a trip to the local drug store, I used my purchase in the pre-dawn hours to diagnose the cause for my tummy troubles.

The little stick told me I was pregnant.

So, I was the best shape of my life when I got pregnant. I continued to walk and to go to Curves late into my pregnancy. I didn’t, however, keep training for the 3-Day since walking 60 miles, camping for two nights in a tent and having limited access to only portable restrooms while seven months pregnant did not sound like fun.

Nausea was my constant companion during all nine months that I carried Philip. I found myself eating all the time. Despite the exercise, I gained back many of the pounds that I had worked so hard to lose.

After Philip was born, I obviously dropped a few pounds. I was certain that the rest of the weight would come melting off when I began to breastfeed. At least, that was what was promised in those “what to expect” books and articles. As things turned out, my milk never came in. I was not going to lose weight that way.

Before the baby was born, we had decided that Peter would quit work to stay at home. Since we were living off just my income, I gave up my Curves membership. I assumed that, once my child got on a sleep schedule, I would be able to work in other, free fitness activities. Again, the “what to expect” books had not prepared me for life with first a baby and then a toddler with such an erratic sleep schedule.

Despite these challenges, I had been keeping relatively fit by walking the dog twice a day. I didn’t get back to my pre-pregnancy weight, but things got better once I started pushing Philip around town in a stroller.

Last summer, after I started my new job and we moved, bad habits started to creep back into my life. I was spending more time in the car commuting to work. I was eating more fast food, walking a little less. When I began walking with Philip rather than pushing him in a stroller, my walking regime decreased in its intensity and efficacy.  Over the winter, my clothes got tighter. I started getting winded when I took the stairs. Hell, I was getting winded walking in a straight line. One weekend about a month ago, I got on the scale at my parents’ house.

I did not like the number I saw on the display.

As much as I don’t like how I look when I’m this weight, what I really hate is how I feel: blah. Plus, I know I’m putting myself at risk of developing Type 2 Diabetes. It runs in my family.

More importantly, I don’t like the message I’m sending to Philip. Sure, he may not notice and be embarrassed by my weight now, but he will notice if I’m too tired and fat to play with him.  As I read this blog post at The Oxygen Mask Project, I found myself nodding in recognition and agreement.

Enough IS enough.

Peter kindly got the stroller out of storage a few weeks ago. I cleaned off the cobwebs, and Peter inflated the tires. Now, as part of our new morning routine, I put Philip in the stroller and push him while walking the dog. Not only will this help me get back in shape, it’s turning into an excellent way to wake up Philip in the morning. I’ve written about sleep issues before. There is this vicious cycle in which Philip sleeps in, takes a late nap and then stays up late which makes him want to sleep in, take a late nap, etc. Without the structure of the school day, it has become more of a struggle to make sure Philip wakes up and stays awake.

During the school year, Philip was never awake early enough to eat breakfast.  He takes after his dad like that: they both eat like birds and have the waists to match. In preschool, skipping breakfast isn’t ideal, but it’s not the end of the world. But once Philip starts full-day school, there won’t be morning snack and he won’t be going home for an early lunch.  I need to get him in the breakfast-eating habit now.  So, while I’m getting in a workout, Philip can munch on cereal and check out the sights.

I’m so not ready for this

Philip isn’t always awake when I put him in the stroller. This is one reason why I don’t try to make him walk on his own. I tried that, but ending up carrying a still-sleepy toddler. Sure, THAT would be an excellent workout, but it’s hard to pick up dog poop while carrying thirty-plus pounds of crying child. In the stroller, Philip can ease into wakefulness while the dog and I can walk at a brisk pace. Well, a brisk pace until the dog stops to sniff something. But you get the point.

Okay, I’m awake now

I’m hoping by the end of summer that my pants are fitting a little better and that I’m not out of breath from a flight of stairs. I need to be in the best shape of my life now, to take care of myself, my son and my family.

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I’m a working mom with a stay at home husband living in the midwest. I started blogging about my son on his first birthday, intending it as an electronic photo album. Our now 3 1/2 year old son was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder earlier this year. The blog still serves its original purpose while also helping me think, learn and adapt to life with autism.

This post was originally published HERE and used with permission.

1 Comment

Filed under Remembering to Breathe, Taking the next step