I finally made it to the doctor this week for my phsyical. I arrived at the office about twenty minutes late with Nicole in tow (Allie stayed at a friend’s house). The receptionist was quite understanding about my inability to get there on time; she just took my insurance card and asked me to have a seat. It was then that I had a chance to look around and note that I was younger than every patient in the waiting room by a good 40 or 50 years. Had I stumbled upon a geriatric physician by mistake and nobody told me? Did I look geriatric and that is why nobody seemed surprised to see me? I shrugged, figuring a doctor is a doctor, and smiled politely while the other patients cooed at my darling baby girl and asked how old HE was (I swear she was wearing pink!).
For being so late, they actually called me back pretty promptly. I was greeted by a very nice nurse named Rachel, who instantly won me over by telling me how cute my baby girl was. She asked me to step on the scale, which I did (after removing my shoes, coat, cell phone, keys, and hair tie--you can’t be too careful when it comes to scales). I was pleased the scale was unable to measure my height, which allowed me to lie, as usual, and claim to be 5’3’’.
Rachel then led me to an exam room where she took my pulse and my blood pressure. She perched herself on a stool with my chart and a pen and continued to take my health history. “Are you taking any medications?”
“No.”
“Do you have any medical conditions?”
“Nope.”
“Any surgeries we should know about?”
“No.”
“C-sections?”
“No.”
“Any hospitalizations?”
“None.”
“Hmmm...any allergies?” she asked hopefully. I shook my head. Rachel put her pen down and looked up at me. “Why exactly are you here?”
I explained that I was embarking on a new health and fitness routine, and I wanted to get an idea of how my health was right now so I could accurately assess my improvement. Rachel nodded and said the doctor would be in momentarily, which miraculously, he was.
To his credit, Dr. Gill never told me I needed to lose weight. I’m not sure if it was because I was already addressing the situation or if there is some unwritten rule that doctors are not to mention weight to a mother of a child less than two years of age in the event they will receive an unending tearful diatribe about how the baby never sleeps or stops crying unless it’s in the car going at least 30 mph and if it weren’t for coca cola and the drive-thru nobody would ever have any peace. It could also be because most of his patients are over 80, and having a little extra weight at that age in case of emergency is advised.
Anyway, Dr. Gill listened to my heart, my lungs, and a brief explanation of my plan. He thought the added exercise was a great idea and said that my initial rate of weight loss would eventually taper off to about 2 to 3 pounds a month. (This does not sound like much to me, but I’ll take what I can get.) Dr. Gill then handed me an order for lab work to check my cholesterol, triglycerides, glucose, etc., and said he’d see me in six months.
I had my lab work done on Thursday, and by Friday the office called and said that all of my numbers were perfect. Which is great news, because now that the ‘getting healthy’ part of my plan is taken care of I can just focus on fitting into my ‘skinny’ jeans. Kidding, kidding. I will continue to strive for better health. In particular, I’ll do some research on how to raise my HDL (healthy) cholesterol. Mine was at 40, and it should be at least 39, so there is definitely room for improvement there.
In other news, Allie had her first swim lesson on Monday. (I know this blog is supposed to be about my health and fitness efforts, but I figure my daughter’s fitness efforts are somewhat relevant and marginally more entertaining than my own.) Allie has been excited about swimming lessons for two months (ever since I took her to sign up and check out the pool). She could hardly contain herself when I told her quiet time was over and it was time to get ready for her first session.
She was dressed in her swimsuit in record time, and she had already thrown a towel, two pairs of underwear, a sock, and her nightgown into her swimming bag by the time I changed Nicole’s diaper. “Honka, honka!” yelled Allie. “Honka” is a made up word that I have heard used to mean everything from “yes” or “no” to “Mummy dear, I am all packed and ready to go to my first swimming lesson” which is what it seemed to mean in this case. I told her we could go as soon as I fed Nicole.
While Nicole ate, I could hear Allison running back and forth on our front porch screaming, “honka honka HONK-AAAAAHHHH” I sent happy, calming thoughts to the poor soul that would soon be instructing multiple over -eager three year olds in water safety before I handed Nicole to Chris and got Allie in her carseat.
When we arrived at the pool, we found Allie’s best friend, Evelyn, with her mom, Carrie, already waiting. Allie and Evelyn stomped their feet, giggled and hopped up and down while Carrie and I discussed the safeness of our beloved three year olds entering a pool without us. Before we knew it, the pool coordinator came out to introduce the swimming instructors. The pre-school class instructor was Nick, who looked to be about 14 years old. He smiled nervously and took a step back as five three year olds with no respect for personal space crowded around his knees. Carrie and I exchanged a look. Oh dear. They were going to eat him alive.
But Nick finally gained some control and the kids followed him through the door and into the pool like little ducklings. I felt so proud (and maybe just a little sad) as Allie fearlessly followed her new leader without even checking to see if I was watching. The kids walked down the steps into the 2’8’’ wading pool, and Nick had them all lined up in no time. By this point, we could not hear anything that was going on because the parents all wait behind a giant glass window during lessons (probably to keep crazies like me from yelling things like “are you sure you are watching my child properly?!? She can’t swim you know!!!”).
I watched as Allie blew bubbles, splashed, kicked her feet, splashed, back floated, splashed, and splashed some more. I couldn’t be sure from my vantage point, but I guessed that most of the splashing was not instructor sanctioned. At any rate, the kids all survived the 40 minute lesson and followed Nick back out to their parents. I wrapped Allie in her towel and asked her if she had fun. She shook her head sadly and said, “Well, he didn’t even let me jump in.” By the time I had her dressed and ready to leave she was much more enthusiastic. Her favorite part was floating on her back, and she can’t wait to go again. Success!
Before I sign off for the week, I want to mention a few links some of you have shared with me:
www.livestrong.com (You can create a free account and use it to track the calories from everything you eat)
www.ohsheglows.com (Vegan recipes--I haven’t tried to make any yet, but there are some much-better-for-you desserts that look delicious)
http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/10/god-of-cake.html (A hilarious entry about a girl who loves cake--if you like cake or things that are funny, you will laugh out loud)
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