The Queen's Rambles

We have a new eating regime around here. It starts with low and ends with fat. Or cholesterol.

Mike finally had a physical. He was not aware of the turn your head and cough jokes or what that entailed, poor man.

End result: he has high cholesterol. At first I was really peeved with the doctor because I was under the impression that his total number was 170 and that’s not all that bad. I have since been informed that the total is 210 and the bad number is 170. Totally different ballgame.

The doc wants him on Crestor and has told him that diet and exercise aren’t going to help him unless “maybe” he goes on a totally vegan diet. That ain’t happening, but I am going to try my best to change my cooking habits. I’ve cooked from a low-fat, low-cholesterol perspective before and it won’t be that bad. A lot of the things I cook are already there, but I am going to be more careful about certain things.

According to FB friends, he shouldn’t start the drugs. I agree. Aren’t we FB people way better than a doctor? Seriously, though, I think it will be much better to at least see if he can change his numbers through diet and lifestyle changes before committing to take a drug for life. I don’t exactly trust doctors around here. This is the same doctor who basically told me I was imagining the pain in my side, which we now know is a dermoid cyst.

Speaking of the cyst.

Ugh.

It hurts in the week leading up to ovulation. At least that’s only once in a while? I guess? I don’t want to have surgery, but last week I was seriously contemplating it.

I find small town doctors to be much more effective than these big city doctors. In my hometown there just weren’t specialists. Your family doctor did just about everything and if he couldn’t do it you had to make a long trip “over the hill” (an hour and a half trip over a mountain, which could be treacherous in the winter) to see a specialist. Your family doctor would deliver your babies, remove your moles, perform your surgeries, do well child checks and all of that. If you had a problem they would have to figure it out. The buck stopped there.
An “I don’t know” wasn’t acceptable. I’m sure the overall quality of care is probably better out here if you are willing to jump through hoops and see lots of specialists. I’ve gotten to the point where I won’t even go to our family doctor for anything but the basics. Luckily our insurance does not require referrals.

In other news. . .

My back isn’t hurting nearly as bad these days now that I have the laptop. I have also switched Elsa to my right side when I carry her, which is very unnatural and has led to a very sore shoulder. It feels like it is going to pop right out of joint, but when I put her on the more natural left hip my back burns like crazy. The shoulder pain feels normal and natural and tolerable. The back pain feels like a demon is trying to suck out my marrow. I’ll take the shoulder pain.

Mike is going to Spain for a week and I want to run away to Oregon, but I don’t think there is any way I could sit on the plane for several hours. My back starts burning as soon as I sit down at Erik’s karate class. The airplane seats aren’t cushioned much better than the karate seats. When did I get so old and decrepit?

Granted, Elsa is one giant baby. I swear you take one look at her and want to ask when I had a rendezvous with Hagrid. She’s wearing pajamas that Erik wore when he was two. She’s proportional now that she’s walking, but she’s just BIG. I hope she’s like Erik and will refuse to be carried once she can walk, but I don’t have that much hope. Don’t most kids like to be carried? Yesterday I was thinking “If only I had some sort of contraption to load her in and push her around in, it would be so much easier.” I envisioned some kind of rack think with her dangling from it while I pushed it around. Then I realized strollers are actually better designed and safer and I have three of them. I guess I really want something that can be used to carry her up and down the stairs.

I did a bit of a fail with my new no shopping today, but too bad. I’m still being way better than I was. We don’t have a wall clock in the basement and I need a wall clock. If I’m watching a DVD or Netflix while Elsa is napping I have no way to tell what time it is (our TV remote doesn’t work). I HAVE to know what time it is or I might be late in picking Erik up. I’ll be a lot less panic-y with a clock.

I also bought a couple of birthday presents. I thought we were birthday free this month, but so far we have three birthday party invitations. One has been refused (I don’t want Erik to associated with the kid) but the other two are for very good friends of the family who always get Erik a nice gift. Not buying anything is a good goal and all, but it would be plain rude not to reciprocate with decent gifts. Usually I have a store of stuff in my closet, but the store has been emptied out, at least enough so that there is really nothing appropriate for these two boys.

I am glad to hear stories of your babies that were not eating a lot of chunky stuff by their 9 month birthday. I am not worried, but it is just so different from what I remember of Erik’s babyhood that I was wondering if there was something to be concerned about. I guess I’ll hear an official doctor opinion on Thursday.