As I was going through my divorce and seeing my therapist at least twice a month, she told me that women at the age of 32 go through changes. At that time in my life I was in the middle of a divorce, getting a grip in a new school, changing religions, dealing with weight gain, in the process of purchasing my own home, and so on. As my life continues to change-for the better-I have now had to deal with medical concerns.
First was the chloresterol screening I had done back in November. Due to family history on my mother's side of cardiovascular disease and me being a "single mom" I wanted to make sure I was okay. It had been a year since the last check so I just wanted to be safe. The results came and my Total was 241, not to mention my LDL was 140's. For those of you unfamilar with these numbers...not good.
I made the appointment at the University of Chicago-I just believe they are at the forefront of medicine. (Tab, check out that link).
I have the stress test done. The doctor calls the same evening to let me know that my heart is good. He also informs me that my mother should come with me to my next appointment. Apparently I have some genetic disorder.
Next was the blood pressure. Seeing that both my parents take medication, it was only time in waiting before I needed to do so. That time came this past January. Just for recollection it was 170/108 the day I had to leave school. Atennol has done wonders.
Then was the weight. I rejoined LA Weightloss , since I never completed my program, and I am down pounds and inches.
So today it was back to the University of Chicago. My father glady came over to watch my little man as my mother and I headed off to the hospital. Upon arriving at the hospital we have our blood drawn. Each of us are in separate rooms as we wait for the doctor. To make a long story short, my levels were down only a little, however way too high for someone my age. Total was 202, LDL was 139. Still not good. Also, since I have that genetic disorder, lipoprotein(a), which not all hospitals test for-I basically need medication.
He asks me to make a decision of whether or not I want him to treat me for my condition or have my family doctor do so. Hello? You are the doctor who found the biochemical make-up of HDL, good chloresterol, not to mention all the other extensive research you've done on lipid disorders. With a smile, he fills out a prescription and gives me at least three months worth of samples. He also says what a good decision I made in coming to Univeristy of Chicago as I mentioned above, not all hospitals perform that test.
The doctor along with my mother and I discuss our issues. My mother's chloresterol is under control, yet she has been on meds for some time now. 300 down to 180, yet I still worry about her. Her next step is a stress test so her heart can be looked at. She will be doing that on Good Friday. Now...my little man. Since I have this gene, it is highly possible that he does too. The doctor does not need to see him as a patient, he only (with of course me bringing it up) suggests conducting the labs to see if he is indeed carrying lipoprotein(a).
I go back in four months and we'll see how well this medicine is going to work.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
My Vacation So Far
So far these last few days of "vacation" have been filled with scrapbooking, playing games with my little man, and of course, sleeping. As my son continues to dress up as a pirate and as Captain Feathersword, I try to scrapbook while listening to Pirates of the Caribbean or Wiggles in the background.
We also managed a trip to get the oil changed in my car. As I checked out the new cars, my little man went in each one sitting in the driver's seat and acted like me going through the drive-thru at McDonald's. He did make one trip to Burger King.
We also managed a trip to get the oil changed in my car. As I checked out the new cars, my little man went in each one sitting in the driver's seat and acted like me going through the drive-thru at McDonald's. He did make one trip to Burger King.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Finally...Spring Break
End of the third quarter, nine more weeks to go until summer vacation. Spring break officially started today at 2:47. YEAH!!
The only plans I have are some R&R, painting the kitchen, and making a trip to the children's museum. Oh, I can't forget my visit to the Cardiologist. This time my mother will be tagging along.
The only plans I have are some R&R, painting the kitchen, and making a trip to the children's museum. Oh, I can't forget my visit to the Cardiologist. This time my mother will be tagging along.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Today's Update
Yeah! We survived football tonight at the YMCA. Although my little man's paper sticthes were barely hanging on, there was not any contact with the chin. We managed a trip to Target as well as Sam's Club and Hobby Lobby.
On another note I am down about 7 pounds and a total of 6 inches in the last four weeks. I have to confess that the week after my birthday I went back to LA Weightloss. This program worked for me two years ago and I had to do something. Fortunately, I never completed my program due to the whole divorce thing so I still have a good portion of my program paid for. So by summer I hope to be my somewhat slim self. I am consistently doing at least 45 minutes of aerobic activity 3 to 4 times a week. I must add what a support my mother has been.
On another note I am down about 7 pounds and a total of 6 inches in the last four weeks. I have to confess that the week after my birthday I went back to LA Weightloss. This program worked for me two years ago and I had to do something. Fortunately, I never completed my program due to the whole divorce thing so I still have a good portion of my program paid for. So by summer I hope to be my somewhat slim self. I am consistently doing at least 45 minutes of aerobic activity 3 to 4 times a week. I must add what a support my mother has been.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
ER Visit #2 of ?
Yes, low and behold it happened again. Exactly one week later at almost the same exact time. And yes, in the same spot.
After spending an evening at the Radisson watching VeggieTales perform on tour, my little man and I headed over to Target (my favorite store). I figured we were out and about, I had some things to return, plus we needed some toliet paper. When we go to Target, my little man always has to get those carts that seat more than one person, however the Target by us only seats two, not four. Ironically, my little man buckles in himself. I'm standing in line at the return counter, putting my coat in the cart, and I hear somewhat of a thud. Of course there is crying and blood. Yes, blood coming from the bottom of a chin. Still strapped into the seat, yet hanging down, somehow my little man slipped and the belt or possibly the handle caught hold of the bottom of his chin. As everyone is staring; I calmly unbuckle him, grab tissue from my purse, put my coat on, then his, and head out to the car so that I can make another trip to the ER.
After I buckle my little man into his seat I actually begin to lose it. What kind of mother am I? All the what if's ran through me head. What if I wouldn't have stopped at Target? What if I would have made him get a different cart? What if...etc, etc, etc.
First I call my parents. Speaking with my dad calms me a little, however I just needed someone to be with me. Next, I call Tinkerbell. She doesn't answer and I leave a message to please call me on my cell phone. Then, I call his father. I was actually thinking if my little man needed stitches there was no way I was going to be able to deal with it. As I am talking with his father Tinkerbell calls, as she has already left a message on my phone. She calms me down as any friend/mother would. I switch back to the father. He says he will come to the hospital. I clearly state that I am not asking him to do so, however he says he will. Great. What was I thinking!
We are sitting in the waiting room when his father arrives. He brings a stuffed Batman for his son. Although my little man was happy to see his dad, he sat with me the whole night, wanted me the whole time, and talked with me the entire evening. That was kind of sad. His father didn't even know his son could write his name. My son had to watch his parents sit in silence next to one another. Okay, there was brief conversation, no disagreements, and well, he hopefully realized that both his parents care about him.
Two and a half hours later my little man and I head home. No glue, no stitches, just paper stitches-like butterfly ones. At first I felt bad that his father sat there for all that time, but then I thought well so did I, plus the week before. And how about all the times I sit at every single activity my little man is involved. The times I have to take off of work so I can take care of him. I could go on and on, but what's the point? I'm not complaining. I have and will always put my little man first-no wonder why I am a single mom.
After spending an evening at the Radisson watching VeggieTales perform on tour, my little man and I headed over to Target (my favorite store). I figured we were out and about, I had some things to return, plus we needed some toliet paper. When we go to Target, my little man always has to get those carts that seat more than one person, however the Target by us only seats two, not four. Ironically, my little man buckles in himself. I'm standing in line at the return counter, putting my coat in the cart, and I hear somewhat of a thud. Of course there is crying and blood. Yes, blood coming from the bottom of a chin. Still strapped into the seat, yet hanging down, somehow my little man slipped and the belt or possibly the handle caught hold of the bottom of his chin. As everyone is staring; I calmly unbuckle him, grab tissue from my purse, put my coat on, then his, and head out to the car so that I can make another trip to the ER.
After I buckle my little man into his seat I actually begin to lose it. What kind of mother am I? All the what if's ran through me head. What if I wouldn't have stopped at Target? What if I would have made him get a different cart? What if...etc, etc, etc.
First I call my parents. Speaking with my dad calms me a little, however I just needed someone to be with me. Next, I call Tinkerbell. She doesn't answer and I leave a message to please call me on my cell phone. Then, I call his father. I was actually thinking if my little man needed stitches there was no way I was going to be able to deal with it. As I am talking with his father Tinkerbell calls, as she has already left a message on my phone. She calms me down as any friend/mother would. I switch back to the father. He says he will come to the hospital. I clearly state that I am not asking him to do so, however he says he will. Great. What was I thinking!
We are sitting in the waiting room when his father arrives. He brings a stuffed Batman for his son. Although my little man was happy to see his dad, he sat with me the whole night, wanted me the whole time, and talked with me the entire evening. That was kind of sad. His father didn't even know his son could write his name. My son had to watch his parents sit in silence next to one another. Okay, there was brief conversation, no disagreements, and well, he hopefully realized that both his parents care about him.
Two and a half hours later my little man and I head home. No glue, no stitches, just paper stitches-like butterfly ones. At first I felt bad that his father sat there for all that time, but then I thought well so did I, plus the week before. And how about all the times I sit at every single activity my little man is involved. The times I have to take off of work so I can take care of him. I could go on and on, but what's the point? I'm not complaining. I have and will always put my little man first-no wonder why I am a single mom.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Single Mom
There are times I hear from people who tell me how strong I must be to be a single mom. As I say thank you to a compliment like that I often remember how/why I am "labeled" a single mother. It was not exactly what I dreamed of or even imagined the day I got married. Life to us is full of surprises and those surprises are His plans. We often question why, why, why? The answers may be evident sooner or later, however we must be patient. Yes, being a single mom is difficult, tiredsome, and overwhelming. There are times of struggle, sadness, and lonliness. Yet, I am thankful for what I have and what will continue to come.
Friday, March 17, 2006
What Does Your Birthday Say About You?
| Your Birthdate: February 18 |
 You are a cohesive force - able to bring many people together for a common cause. You tend to excel in work situations, but you also facilitate a lot of social gatherings too. Beyond being a good leader, you are good at inspiring others. You also keep your powerful emotions in check - you know when to emote and when to repress. Your strength: Emotional maturity beyond your years Your weakness: Wearing yourself down with too many responsibilities Your power color: Crimson red Your power symbol: Snowflake Your power month: September |
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Testing
Thankfully tomorrow is the last day of proctoring a state-wide test that students must pass in order to receive their diploma. I am conducting the retakes for those who have failed twice already. I have been testing the past two days and it has been brutal.
Students with learning and mild disabilities are disadvantaged by this standarized test. Some have an opportunity to pass while others have no hope. What good is it to receive a certificate of completion indicating the individual went to school for 12 years, or most likely 13 years due to retention?
Students receive accomodations on the test such as extended time, use of a fraction calculator, and some sections read aloud, (those sections testing their comprehension is not included) yet material is read aloud to them everyday in the classroom. Isn't comprehension of verbal skills important for a job or even just surviving in the real world?
When you go to the grocery store or to a discount store how are the purchases calculated? Do they really need to know how to calculate the area of a figure that measures this or that?
Of course they need to know how to write. Yes, spelling would be good too, however with word processing (which they use to type their papers at school) has spell check. Have you ever sat down, been given a writing prompt, and time frame to write a quality essay? That is not even done in schools. They are often given days to complete such tasks.
Let's remember I teach students with disabilities, some with IQ's below 70 when the average is 100. It isn't easy, nor is it fair. Their self-esteem falls lower and lower each time they hear that they did not pass. Every Child is Left Behind, thank you Mr. President.
Students with learning and mild disabilities are disadvantaged by this standarized test. Some have an opportunity to pass while others have no hope. What good is it to receive a certificate of completion indicating the individual went to school for 12 years, or most likely 13 years due to retention?
Students receive accomodations on the test such as extended time, use of a fraction calculator, and some sections read aloud, (those sections testing their comprehension is not included) yet material is read aloud to them everyday in the classroom. Isn't comprehension of verbal skills important for a job or even just surviving in the real world?
When you go to the grocery store or to a discount store how are the purchases calculated? Do they really need to know how to calculate the area of a figure that measures this or that?
Of course they need to know how to write. Yes, spelling would be good too, however with word processing (which they use to type their papers at school) has spell check. Have you ever sat down, been given a writing prompt, and time frame to write a quality essay? That is not even done in schools. They are often given days to complete such tasks.
Let's remember I teach students with disabilities, some with IQ's below 70 when the average is 100. It isn't easy, nor is it fair. Their self-esteem falls lower and lower each time they hear that they did not pass. Every Child is Left Behind, thank you Mr. President.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
ER Visit
Sorry Tab for leaving you hanging. I was so exhausted last night and had to get up for work in the morning that I just couldn't think to elaborate. In fact, I barely remember typing my post.
It all began after being home for about 30 minutes. I was upstairs getting some laundry together when I heard a great big thud. Of course, after that I heard crying. I looked over the railing in my loft and couldn't see where my little man was. Upset, I asked him what happened figuring he was doing his Spiderman moves. When he didn't answer I became a little more upset thinking I was right. When he told me I needed to come down I knew something was wrong.
I saw blood, yes, blood. Trying to maintain my calmness so I didn't freak out my little man, I grabbed some tissue to stop the bleeding. By this time it is on shirt and hand. He wants me to go get a band-aid.
I never had to get stitches before, so I really wasn't sure how deep the cut needed to be for that procedure, however looking at this cut I was thinking the answer might be a yes. I call Number Twelve so that I can hear from someone, "Yes, he is going to need stitches." She is gracious enough to swing by as she is on her way home. She then gives me the answer I really don't want to hear, but do want to hear.
We arrive at the hospital and the paramedic reassures me that yep, he might need stitches, but it definitely needs to be glued up. After sitting in a emergency waiting room for two hours we finally got called back to be seen by a doctor. My little man, my big boy, laid on the bed by himself as they cleaned his wound, glued it back together, and placed bandages on it. He continually asked the doctor what he was doing.
It is difficult to explain in writing what my little man was doing when this happened. I can tell you this, it didn't scare him enough. My mom caught him doing it again today.
It all began after being home for about 30 minutes. I was upstairs getting some laundry together when I heard a great big thud. Of course, after that I heard crying. I looked over the railing in my loft and couldn't see where my little man was. Upset, I asked him what happened figuring he was doing his Spiderman moves. When he didn't answer I became a little more upset thinking I was right. When he told me I needed to come down I knew something was wrong.
I saw blood, yes, blood. Trying to maintain my calmness so I didn't freak out my little man, I grabbed some tissue to stop the bleeding. By this time it is on shirt and hand. He wants me to go get a band-aid.
I never had to get stitches before, so I really wasn't sure how deep the cut needed to be for that procedure, however looking at this cut I was thinking the answer might be a yes. I call Number Twelve so that I can hear from someone, "Yes, he is going to need stitches." She is gracious enough to swing by as she is on her way home. She then gives me the answer I really don't want to hear, but do want to hear.
We arrive at the hospital and the paramedic reassures me that yep, he might need stitches, but it definitely needs to be glued up. After sitting in a emergency waiting room for two hours we finally got called back to be seen by a doctor. My little man, my big boy, laid on the bed by himself as they cleaned his wound, glued it back together, and placed bandages on it. He continually asked the doctor what he was doing.
It is difficult to explain in writing what my little man was doing when this happened. I can tell you this, it didn't scare him enough. My mom caught him doing it again today.
ER Visit #1 of ?
I knew this would happen eventually, just not today. I'm too exhausted to write about it right now. Not to fret, it was not that seriuos.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Weekend Part III
It is Sunday evening and the weekend is just about over. My little man and I attended church, made the usual visit to my parent's house, and of course stopped by Number Twelve's new home. I watched the Sopranos and taped Desperate Housewives. The house didn't get cleaned, there is still laundry to do, and of course school work I didn't complete. That is why I chose to live each day to the fullest.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Weekend Part II
Number Twelve and I in her new home!My little man and I were invited to breakfast this morning to Number Twelve's new home. Our friendship, which has been fifteen years plus, makes us family. It is great to know that my little man said her home was perfect and wanted us to spend the night tomorrow. He as well as the girls enjoyed playing all over the house inside and out!
Me and my little man.Number Twelve has a faboulous new home. I gave my input along with her mother-in-law of what I would do first, what I would leave as is, what colors for paint, etc. I'm sure once we all left and her and Smooch Dog put the girls down their list changed once more. Although they have now moved five miles away and closer to my ex-husband I plan on being there as usual.
Smooch Dog with all of his girls at their new home!After the excitement of visiting a new home we headed over to another birthday party. This one was a family function. Although my little man looked like he was about to pass out do to tiredness; he made it through the meal, cake, opening presents, and a movie.
We plan on being back to Number Twelve's tomorrow to see the appliances. I can't wait to hear the list of changes.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Weekend Part I
One party down, another one to go.
My little man attended a birthday party for one of his friends from Tinkerbell's daycare. It was held at a place similar to Chuck E Cheese however there were less people, the pizza was better, and people were actually polite.
My little man attended a birthday party for one of his friends from Tinkerbell's daycare. It was held at a place similar to Chuck E Cheese however there were less people, the pizza was better, and people were actually polite.
My little man and his birthday friend.
Yummy pizza!
Besides the fact that my little man had a fabulous time tonight as I did as well, we are both extremely exhausted. I had so much fun that I ended up buying an additional $10 in tokens to help my little guy earn tickets.
Check me out!
Yeah!!!
I'm a pro.
Playing a Star Wars video game.
I'm concentrating.
Wednesday, March 8, 2006
Venting
Okay I must vent.
The father of my little man called and left a message today, about 6:00 pm, that he isn't going to be able to see his son tomorrow because he has had some kind of classes for work. Am I missing something here? Did he not know this information when I saw him on Sunday as we exchanged our child in the parking lot of a grocery store?
Of course he wants to make up the day. When he inquires about Friday, I inform him that my little man has a birthday party to attend. So of course he asks about Saturday. Sorry, but he has another birthday party at noon. Then he asks about Saturday evening. I tell him I will call him after the party because it is actually a "movie" party.
I hang up the phone and it hits me. Now wait a minute. It is okay for him to mess up my plans. I already had scheduled an appointment for the evening that my little man was suppose to be with him. I kept my little man out late today (didn't get home until 8:35) so he could be the one to pick out the birthday presents for his friend and cousin. My little man ate salami for dinner as I grocery shopped (he had salad and a banana when he got home).
Prior to this message, I had already gone through what the day was going to be like tomorrow. Then I have to tell my little man he isn't going to see daddy. Even worse I tell him that he will see daddy after his cousin's party on Saturday.
Isn't there a give at least 24 hour notice rule? How about just being considerate? Oh wait, I'm sorry, when you have money being taken out of your check that is used to support your child that means you can do whatever you want. Let's rethink this.
The father of my little man called and left a message today, about 6:00 pm, that he isn't going to be able to see his son tomorrow because he has had some kind of classes for work. Am I missing something here? Did he not know this information when I saw him on Sunday as we exchanged our child in the parking lot of a grocery store?
Of course he wants to make up the day. When he inquires about Friday, I inform him that my little man has a birthday party to attend. So of course he asks about Saturday. Sorry, but he has another birthday party at noon. Then he asks about Saturday evening. I tell him I will call him after the party because it is actually a "movie" party.
I hang up the phone and it hits me. Now wait a minute. It is okay for him to mess up my plans. I already had scheduled an appointment for the evening that my little man was suppose to be with him. I kept my little man out late today (didn't get home until 8:35) so he could be the one to pick out the birthday presents for his friend and cousin. My little man ate salami for dinner as I grocery shopped (he had salad and a banana when he got home).
Prior to this message, I had already gone through what the day was going to be like tomorrow. Then I have to tell my little man he isn't going to see daddy. Even worse I tell him that he will see daddy after his cousin's party on Saturday.
Isn't there a give at least 24 hour notice rule? How about just being considerate? Oh wait, I'm sorry, when you have money being taken out of your check that is used to support your child that means you can do whatever you want. Let's rethink this.
Tuesday, March 7, 2006
A Progress Report
My little man came home with a progress report yesterday. As I looked over the progress report I noticed he just needed to "work" on two things:
- making good use of his free time and
- waiting his turn to speak when in a group.
When I spoke with my little man as we looked over his progress together I saw such a big boy. I know he is a big boy-yet that is my little man.
- The one I saw in the Ultrasound appearing to throw a football.
- The one that let me enjoy my pregnancy.
- The one who gave me an easy delivery.
- The one who is a momma's boy.
- The one who says good morning to me everyday when he wakes up.
- The one who says please and thank you at the right times.
- The one who has kept me strong through my divorce.
- The one who has tested my discipline techniques.
- The one who tells me he has missed me when he is with his daddy.
- The one who tells me he loves me as he gives me kisses and hugs any chance he gets.
I could go on and on about my little man. At the age of four I can deal with him having to learn to wait his turn to speak, at least he does so. And with making good use of their free time, I don't do that myself. He is definitely right on track.
Thursday, March 2, 2006
Sticky Fingers Continued
Did I leave you all hanging? To continue...
I was in shock when I looked at my little man as he was putting the Hubba Bubba Tape Gum in his pocket.
I told him to take it out of his pocket. Put it back. Did he want the clerk to call the police? I went on that we probably should be going to church tonight. That I probably should tell the Pastor.
Before paying I searched his coat pockets again to make sure all was clear.
As we went to the car, I told him that in the future maybe I should be going shopping by myself. He definitely wasn't happy with that. I got in the car and called my parents. My dad talked to my little man who then apologized.
When we pulled up to the house I explained that the puzzle he has of Moses holding the rocks, The Ten Commandments, it says not to steal. God does not want you to steal. That is what you were doing.
Wednesday, March 1, 2006
A Case of Sticky Fingers
I knew this would happen eventually.
I wasn't prepared for it today.
Nor was I prepared for it to happen at age four.
Yes, we were standing in line for at least fifteen minutes.
Yes, he asked if he could have it.
Yes, I told him no you may not have it.
Then it happened.
God made me look.
That little stinker grabbed it from the display and put it in his coat pocket.
I wasn't prepared for it today.
Nor was I prepared for it to happen at age four.
Yes, we were standing in line for at least fifteen minutes.
Yes, he asked if he could have it.
Yes, I told him no you may not have it.
Then it happened.
God made me look.
That little stinker grabbed it from the display and put it in his coat pocket.
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