Archives for posts with tag: doctor

happy-scale

A little over a year ago, my then 13 year old daughter had to go to the doctor for her yearly checkup. She was dreading it, because she knew she was chubby, and that the doctor would lecture her on losing weight, just like she did every year.

Old doc didn’t disappoint. My little girl left the office depressed and sulky with a wounded pride and a prescription for her acne.

Over the next few days she moped around the house, barely eating. When I’d fix her breakfast or dinner, she would bring her plate back up having eaten little. This went on for a few weeks, and I finally had to give her a talk about how if she wanted to lose weight, not eating wasn’t going to get her anywhere in the long run.

We shopped for sensible snacks, and cut out soda all together. She started walking on the treadmill we have in the garage for 30-45 minutes most days. I begged her to let me weigh her, but she refused. I think she was scared that the scale was going to reflect the same old fat number she’d had at the doctor’s office.

One morning I told her that she was going on the scale – that we had to see if what she was doing was working. If it wasn’t, we’d find another solution, but we had to know.

My girl had lost over 10 pounds in less than a month. And this was why I wanted her on that scale – that number motivated her to keep going.

All through the year she watched what she ate, but didn’t deprive herself of the occasional cupcake or egg roll, and kept up her exercise. I knew the weight was coming off because pants I’d bought her just a few months back didn’t fit her anymore, and the XL T-shirts I’d bought her for Christmas hung on her like nightgowns.

Fall rolled back around and it was time to head back to the doctor for another check up – but she was looking forward to this one. The nurse took her blood pressure, checked her vision and her height, and put her on the scale.

A few minutes later, she came back into the office to double check the number on the scale. She said the doctor had seen the difference in weight, and wanted her to double check that she hadn’t made a mistake.

My husband, daughter and I chuckled at this.

When the doctor came in, she was amazed at the change. My child, with hard work and determination, had lost almost 40 pounds over the course of the year. The doctor asked her how she did it, and congratulated her on good choices. She apologized for sending the nurse back in to double-check the scale, but explained that so few children actually lose the weight once they are told they need to, that she’d assumed it was an error.

Doc looked at her and said, “you really made my day.”

And doc made her day too. She was floating on air the rest of the afternoon, even though she had to endure a flu shot and her final HPV shot. She’s still watching her portion size and getting on that treadmill.

And I’m still buying her new clothes…size small.

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I’ve been looking forward to this weekend – so have my kids. Twice a year the Richmond Coliseum hosts Disney on Ice, and hubby is the ice tech and Zamboni driver, so we always get tickets. His boss usually sets him up with a hotel room for the weekend so he can be on call 24/7 – we live an hour away, so that makes good sense.

The kids and I love it because we come out to see the show and then stay in a swank downtown Richmond hotel for the night. They swim, check out the fitness room, and get to eat a few meals out. Plus there’s all the cute little soaps and shampoos to take home! It’s like a mini weekend getaway for us.

Earlier this week my 10 year old developed a pimply sore on her leg. I figured it would just go away, but by Thursday it was red and swollen – so much so that there was an inflamed patch about the size of a pancake on her leg. It was hard for her to walk, so I decided to take her to the doctor. Turns out it was an abscess of some sort, and needed to be drained.

Ruh roh.

I won’t go into details, but it was an hour I didn’t want to have to ever relive. My poor daughter was near screaming, but tried to keep her 10 year old shit together as best she could while the doctor squeezed her very sore boo-boo. Doc then drew a Sharpie line around the inflamed area and told us that if the redness spreads significantly over the marker line, we should come back in.

Afterward I promised her the dinner of her choice and took her to Walmart to pick out a toy while her prescription was getting filled. She spent the night eating pizza and building her Lego firetruck.

The next morning her leg looked ok, but it hadn’t drained as much as I would’ve liked. It was still sore, but off to school she went. I was way behind at work after having missed most of the day before. Around 10 am the school nurse calls.

Ruh roh.

The redness is going past the Sharpie marker line. I explain the situation to the nurse and asked her to make an assessment – was it significantly over the line or just a little? After putting me on hold for at least 4 minutes, she said it was about an inch over the line. Crap. Time to call the doctor again. Nurse at doctors office agrees we should see her under the “better safe than sorry” adage – appointment is made for 2:40 that afternoon.

At 1 pm my phone rings – school nurse again. Now my girl has a fever of 102. I start to mildly panic, and head to my car. After picking her up I can feel that she is hot as a brick oven. Yet by the time we get her to the doctor’s office, the fever is gone.

This perplexes the doctor. But just to be cautious, she decides it’s best to make a bigger incision in her leg and try to drain it some more – and my daughter’s face drains of blood simultaneously. Didn’t I just say I didn’t want to relive this?

Yes, my poor little girl had to endure more cutting and squeezing. To add insult to injury, doctor says she need to have an shot of antibiotic, which turns my weeping, pale faced daughter into a crazed lunatic. I calm her down while the shot was being prepared, practically promising her a key to Disney World and a string of cream colored ponies.

And in walks not one but TWO nurses, each with a needle in hand. Apparently, she needs a shot in each thigh. I only wished I could have traded places with her. I held her hand and her head while they jabbed the needles into her cute little meaty thighs, and she screamed out, hot tears running into her hair.

Two days in a row of cutting and crying and soothing and calming. We were both exhausted. But when you’re a mommy you still have to shop and cook and clean – there is no flopping on the couch once you reach home. At least not until around 8 pm with a giant glass of Chablis.

But now our weekend will hopefully turn out well – It’s early Saturday morning and I’m about to wake up my girls, clean the house, feed the cats and head out for a little Richmond R & R.

Hello? McFly?For months now I’ve been meaning to make doctor appointments for my daughters…both eye and pediatrician. We were without health coverage for a while, so they are both ripe for a trip to the doctor.

I hate making appointments. First there’s the rigmarole of looking up the number, and then waiting on hold until someone can un-busy themselves enough to take your call. The appointment is invariably scheduled for 3 months down the line, because that’s their first opening. And it never fails – when the appointment looms near, I discover THE CONFLICT. Be it a school play, work function or my yearly trip to Mars, I always have to call and reschedule.

This is why I hate making appointments.

So this morning I made a calendar of every known upcoming event and every work related deadline. I then called the eye doctor (they are more likely to be jammed up with appointments) and pin pointed a date when both my girls could be seen back to back that was also free on my calendar. Afterwards, I called the pediatrician and made a appointment for the very same day. I will take that day off from work and it will be “doctor day.”

Too bad I couldn’t fit a dentist appointment in there too. Crap. I wonder how many months it will take me to make that call.