What would you do if your mother gave your child pain medicine without your permission?
This happened to me the other day, and I am still in shock.
My daughter had gotten her braces tightened, so her teeth were a bit sore. I usually give her a dose of Children's Advil
and she's fine, but I didn't have a chance to give it to her before she left for school in the morning.
By the time she got home from school, the pain had transformed my sweet beauty into a tyrannical beast. She lashed out at her brother when he dared to make a suggestion she didn't agree with, and she gave her father an attitude when he dared to call her out for it.
Around that time, my mother (Mimi) came over to see the kids. Sally's behavior had escalated to the point that my husband had to give Sally a swift "talking-to" right in front of Mimi. (This really embarrassed and upset Sally, of course.)
Soon after the scolding, Mimi took Sally out to get a snack, and when they returned, she was a totally different kid. She cheerfully went right to her room and did all of her homework. She even worked on a long-term project and practiced her violin with no complaints. She was nice to her brother, and she was all smiles during supper.
I asked her why she was acting so differently than she had earlier in the day, and she said, "Mimi took me to Walgreens and bought me some medicine, so I feel a lot better."
I was floored. Mimi knows how I feel about medicine and junk food. She won't even buy my kids a candy bar without asking my permission. But she decided to take my daughter to the store and give her medicine without even telling us?? What if we had decided to give her medicine, and we accidentally double dosed her? What if she had some sort of reaction and we didn't know why? The whole thing was just baffling.
Let me interrupt my own story at this point to give you some background information. You see, my mother and I have COMPLETELY opposing viewpoints when it comes to medicine. My mom doesn't think anyone should ever have to feel any pain or discomfort whatsoever. If my mom wakes up in the morning and it's raining, she will immediately take an ibuprofen "just in case" she gets a sinus headache. If she feels a tiny gurgle in her stomach, she immediately takes a Pepto Bismol tablet. When it comes to medication, my mother is VERY proactive.
She is especially sensitive when it comes to the children. She can't stand the idea of the kids feeling any pain or suffering for even a second. She encourages me to give Sally ibuprofen BEFORE her orthodontist appointments so she won't ever have to experience the slightest pain.
On the other hand (or the other planet, as the case may be), I believe that a little bit of pain is a natural part of life. Minor aches and pains are a normal part of our bodily processes. In fact, pain is the body's way of communicating with us. Why should you "numb" your body when it is trying to tell you something?
I gave birth to both of my children with no drugs whatsoever, and it was AWESOME! Did it hurt? Like you would not BELIEVE! Did the pain scar me for life? Absolutely not. Pain is a normal part of the birthing process. I was more in touch with my body than I have ever been before...or since. I wouldn't change a thing.
As for the kids, it's OK for them to feel a little bit of pain. It teaches them to listen to their bodies. It's also OK for them to run a fever when they're sick. It's the body's way of healing itself. We just don't rush to the drug store for every little headache or sniffle.
OK, back to the story: So apparently my mom had felt so bad about Sally getting in trouble because she was cranky because her teeth hurt, that she rushed right out to the store to buy her some medicine.
I was both shocked and upset that my mom would take on that kind of responsibility without my permission.
What do you think about this issue? Would you be upset if your child's grandparent gave your child medication? How would you respond? I would love to hear from my readers on this issue.
Momniscient
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Why I'm Glad the Twinkie is Toast
To all of you nostalgic saps who are mourning the potential death of the Twinkie, I offer the following quiz:
How many Twinkies have you actually consumed in the past month? (NOTE: You should not count this week when the world decided that Twinkies were edible again.)
The fact is, Twinkies are dead because they are disgusting, low-quality pseudofood. They taste like wet sponges filled with Vaseline. On a scale of dreadful to delicious, Twinkies rank right up there with Vienna sausages and potato sticks.
Yes, we all loved Twinkies when we were kids, but we also thought lead-based paint, Play-Doh, and boogers were pretty tasty. How sophisticated could our palates have been back then? Anyone who has eaten a Twinkie past the age of 25 should: a) reevaluate their snacking habits, and b) realize that, in a word, Twinkies are gross.
My kids have eaten Twinkies only once in their lives, and they didn't like them. They would much rather eat a freshly baked doughnut or a piece of actual cake. This is probably why Twinkies are dying to begin with: Americans are no longer satisfied with the bland TV dinners and prepackaged foods of years past. We can now get cheap, semi-healthy food at any fast food restaurant or grocery store.
Unfortunately for many busy families, this cheap, semi-healthy food has become a regular substitute for healthy, homemade food. Like most things, moderation is key.
So when it comes to the Twinkie, I certainly won't be shedding any tears. Taking Twinkies off the shelves means one fewer unhealthy food choice at the grocery store.
R.I.P., Twinkie the Kid. You will not be missed.
How many Twinkies have you actually consumed in the past month? (NOTE: You should not count this week when the world decided that Twinkies were edible again.)
- If your answer is more than 10: How old are you, and how high is your body mass index?
- If your answer is between one and nine: Really? You picked a tasteless batch of chemicals over a Swiss Roll or an Oatmeal Creme Pie?
- If your answer is less than one: Move on with your life and stop trying to relive your childhood.
The fact is, Twinkies are dead because they are disgusting, low-quality pseudofood. They taste like wet sponges filled with Vaseline. On a scale of dreadful to delicious, Twinkies rank right up there with Vienna sausages and potato sticks.Yes, we all loved Twinkies when we were kids, but we also thought lead-based paint, Play-Doh, and boogers were pretty tasty. How sophisticated could our palates have been back then? Anyone who has eaten a Twinkie past the age of 25 should: a) reevaluate their snacking habits, and b) realize that, in a word, Twinkies are gross.
My kids have eaten Twinkies only once in their lives, and they didn't like them. They would much rather eat a freshly baked doughnut or a piece of actual cake. This is probably why Twinkies are dying to begin with: Americans are no longer satisfied with the bland TV dinners and prepackaged foods of years past. We can now get cheap, semi-healthy food at any fast food restaurant or grocery store.
Unfortunately for many busy families, this cheap, semi-healthy food has become a regular substitute for healthy, homemade food. Like most things, moderation is key.
So when it comes to the Twinkie, I certainly won't be shedding any tears. Taking Twinkies off the shelves means one fewer unhealthy food choice at the grocery store.
R.I.P., Twinkie the Kid. You will not be missed.
Labels:
food,
hostess,
nutrition,
pop culture,
twinkie
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Don't Lose Sleep Over New Co-Sleeping Study
A new study has found that women who co-sleep with their babies are possibly more prone to stress than those who don't.
I co-slept with both of my kids, and I could not disagree more.
According to a Fox News article, "Breastfeeding and co-sleeping with baby affects mom's welfare," the study followed 195 women in a Chicago suburb for six months after they gave birth. The study showed that mothers who slept with their babies had "less-than-optimal daily rhythms" of the stress hormone cortisol. Those who had the best rhythms were moms who breastfed and then did not share a bed with their baby.
Apparently, an "optimal rhythm" of cortisol is one in which the levels are high in the morning and then decline in the evening. The study showed that women who co-slept with their babies had less of a decline of cortisol throughout the day.
This study is bogus on many levels:
- Researchers only tested 195 women. That's hardly an adequate sampling of the overall population.
- They only tested women from a single Chicago suburb. Who's to say new moms in other areas of the country would have similar results?
- There is no evidence of a correlation between the cortisol levels and the co-sleeping. Maybe these women were stressed to begin with. Maybe they were poor, single moms. Maybe their pregnancies were unexpected and/or unwanted. Maybe they had other children to deal with or stressful jobs. Who knows?
![]() |
| Photo courtesy Marta Dehnel, stock.xchng |
All I know is that co-sleeping was the best thing that could have happened to me as a new mom. My daughter would NOT sleep unless she was physically touching me. I tried the whole "cry it out" thing, and after hours of nonstop crying (both my daughter and me), I decided that there had to be a better way. You want to talk about stress, try standing outside the bedroom door while your infant daughter is alone in her crib screaming herself hoarse.
She ended up sleeping with me almost every night until she was about 6 years old. I still occasionally sleep in her bed if she's feeling particularly needy.
My son, on the other hand, slept with me for less than a year. He didn't need as much physical contact, so he was in a "big boy bed" in no time.
As for the relationship between SIDS and co-sleeping, this article by Dr. Sears says that worldwide research has shown that the SIDS rate is lowest in countries where babies typically sleep with their parents. The vast majority of deaths from co-sleeping result from parents who smoke, who are obese, or who are under the influence of drugs or alcohol.
The bottom line is that co-sleeping works for many families, and a single study should not discourage a mom from listening to the needs of her infant. You know your child best. Follow your instincts, and do what comes naturally. It's the best way for everyone to get a good night's sleep.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Family Game Night a Great Way to Unplug
My husband made the greatest purchase of our lives last weekend when he found this Pokemon Monopoly game at a garage sale for a dollar.
Did you catch that? It's a Monopoly game about POKEMON!! And my kids are only ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED with Pokemon!
So for the past two nights, we have shut down the computers, walked away from the iPods and cell phones, and turned off the video games in order to play this game. We look just like those smiling families on the Hasbro Family Game Night commercials.
Pokemon Monopoly is a lot like the classic Monopoly game, except the little metal tokens are Pokemon characters (I'm Charmander).
You play with Pokedollars instead of money, you catch Pokemon instead of buying properties, and you purchase Pokemon Centers instead of houses. You can still go to jail, though, and you still have Free Parking (whatever the heck that is).
We have been having so much fun that I'm kicking myself for not doing it sooner. Like many families, we get caught up in our electronic worlds. Too many times, I've looked up from my laptop to see every member of my family glued to a screen somewhere. It's like we're all in the same room, but we live in different worlds. It disturbs me.
I'm the first to admit that it is extremely difficult for me to walk away from my computer. Between blogging (which I love), working (which I hate), and aimless surfing (which leeches my time like a parasite), I am constantly being pulled toward my laptop.
Family Game Night was a conscious decision to "unplug" for the sake of my kids. I am thinking of implementing a regular game night each week in which all electronics are turned off, and the family is turned on...to some good old-fashioned fun.
A look through my hall closet revealed that we actually have a collection of different Monopoly Games from over the years: Star Wars Monopoly, The Simpsons Monopoly, and Electronic Banking Monopoly. Maybe we'll start a Monopoly Month, followed by Word Games Weeks (with Scrabble and Boggle), and maybe a fun action game such as Jenga.
The possibilities are endless, and it doesn't really matter what you play. The key is to make an effort to unplug from the gadgets and plug in to the family. Feel free to share your experiences.
Did you catch that? It's a Monopoly game about POKEMON!! And my kids are only ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED with Pokemon!
So for the past two nights, we have shut down the computers, walked away from the iPods and cell phones, and turned off the video games in order to play this game. We look just like those smiling families on the Hasbro Family Game Night commercials.
![]() |
| Artist's rendering our our Family Game Night experience |
Pokemon Monopoly is a lot like the classic Monopoly game, except the little metal tokens are Pokemon characters (I'm Charmander).
You play with Pokedollars instead of money, you catch Pokemon instead of buying properties, and you purchase Pokemon Centers instead of houses. You can still go to jail, though, and you still have Free Parking (whatever the heck that is).
We have been having so much fun that I'm kicking myself for not doing it sooner. Like many families, we get caught up in our electronic worlds. Too many times, I've looked up from my laptop to see every member of my family glued to a screen somewhere. It's like we're all in the same room, but we live in different worlds. It disturbs me.
I'm the first to admit that it is extremely difficult for me to walk away from my computer. Between blogging (which I love), working (which I hate), and aimless surfing (which leeches my time like a parasite), I am constantly being pulled toward my laptop.
Family Game Night was a conscious decision to "unplug" for the sake of my kids. I am thinking of implementing a regular game night each week in which all electronics are turned off, and the family is turned on...to some good old-fashioned fun.
A look through my hall closet revealed that we actually have a collection of different Monopoly Games from over the years: Star Wars Monopoly, The Simpsons Monopoly, and Electronic Banking Monopoly. Maybe we'll start a Monopoly Month, followed by Word Games Weeks (with Scrabble and Boggle), and maybe a fun action game such as Jenga.
The possibilities are endless, and it doesn't really matter what you play. The key is to make an effort to unplug from the gadgets and plug in to the family. Feel free to share your experiences.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Just Call Me the Sugar Nazi
My daughter had a friend sleep over the other night. I'm not a big fan of sleepovers, so we don't do them very often. But this girl is one of my favorites of Sally's friends. We'll call her Peggy. She's a nice girl, low maintenance, no drama. It's hard to find those qualities in a 10-year-old girl nowadays.
Peggy brought a large bag of leftover Halloween candy with her. We were going to the movies, so her mom let her bring the candy to take with us. She also proceeded to eat a great deal of the candy, both before and after the movie. Then the following morning, she drank chocolate milk with breakfast and started back in on the Halloween candy by 10:00 a.m.
As a result, Sally wanted to eat just as much candy as her friend. I tried to be cool about it, but anyone who knows me knows I have "issues" with sugar.
You see, we as Americans eat too much sugar. It's as simple as that. So I try to limit the amount of sugar my kids consume on a daily basis. This is much easier said than done because sugar lurks in EVERYTHING they eat and drink!
I tried to explain this to Sally the other day. She had eaten two of those Nature Valley Oats and Dark Chocolate granola bars for breakfast. (Yes, I know it's chocolate for breakfast. I regretted it as soon as I let her have it.) They have 12 grams of sugar, which is the same amount that's in some breakfast cereals. The problem was that she was still hungry and wanted to eat two of the peanut butter granola bars, too. Those have 11 grams of sugar.
So I broke it down and did the math. If she ate the extra granola bars, she would have consumed 23 grams of sugar, which is more sugar than two Reese's Peanut Butter Cups! And it was only 9:00 in the morning!
When I pointed this out to Sally, she seemed to understand, and she agreed to eat some cashews instead. But a normal mom without a sugar obsession might not think twice about giving her child a couple of extra granola bars. This is why we have so many overweight, unhealthy kids.
I did some research, and the American Heart Association recommends that preschoolers consume about 4 teaspoons (16 grams) of sugar per day, children 4-8 should eat around 3 teaspoons (12 grams) per day, and preteens and teens can consume 5-8 teaspoons per day. So my daughter just about met her quota for the day on the first granola bars alone.
I often feel as if I'm fighting a losing battle. Sugar is everywhere! Our children are programmed to seek it out, and adults are programmed to give it to them. My mother is an expert at justifying giving my kids junk food.
She'll say things like, "Look, this pudding has calcium in it," or "At least frozen yogurt is healthy."
Sometimes I just need to lighten up and let my kids eat sweets, but someone has to be the voice of reason in this greedy, excess-driven world. I hope I'm not giving them eating disorders by making such a big deal about their sugar intake, but at the same time I don't want obese, cavity-infested kids, either. I suppose there's a balance to be struck.
As we finally say goodbye to the Halloween candy, we can now look forward to the gluttony of Thanksgiving and the greed of Christmas. Happy holidays!
VGKMRNGRE6G7
Peggy brought a large bag of leftover Halloween candy with her. We were going to the movies, so her mom let her bring the candy to take with us. She also proceeded to eat a great deal of the candy, both before and after the movie. Then the following morning, she drank chocolate milk with breakfast and started back in on the Halloween candy by 10:00 a.m.
As a result, Sally wanted to eat just as much candy as her friend. I tried to be cool about it, but anyone who knows me knows I have "issues" with sugar.
You see, we as Americans eat too much sugar. It's as simple as that. So I try to limit the amount of sugar my kids consume on a daily basis. This is much easier said than done because sugar lurks in EVERYTHING they eat and drink!
I tried to explain this to Sally the other day. She had eaten two of those Nature Valley Oats and Dark Chocolate granola bars for breakfast. (Yes, I know it's chocolate for breakfast. I regretted it as soon as I let her have it.) They have 12 grams of sugar, which is the same amount that's in some breakfast cereals. The problem was that she was still hungry and wanted to eat two of the peanut butter granola bars, too. Those have 11 grams of sugar.
So I broke it down and did the math. If she ate the extra granola bars, she would have consumed 23 grams of sugar, which is more sugar than two Reese's Peanut Butter Cups! And it was only 9:00 in the morning!
When I pointed this out to Sally, she seemed to understand, and she agreed to eat some cashews instead. But a normal mom without a sugar obsession might not think twice about giving her child a couple of extra granola bars. This is why we have so many overweight, unhealthy kids.
I did some research, and the American Heart Association recommends that preschoolers consume about 4 teaspoons (16 grams) of sugar per day, children 4-8 should eat around 3 teaspoons (12 grams) per day, and preteens and teens can consume 5-8 teaspoons per day. So my daughter just about met her quota for the day on the first granola bars alone.
I often feel as if I'm fighting a losing battle. Sugar is everywhere! Our children are programmed to seek it out, and adults are programmed to give it to them. My mother is an expert at justifying giving my kids junk food.
She'll say things like, "Look, this pudding has calcium in it," or "At least frozen yogurt is healthy."
Sometimes I just need to lighten up and let my kids eat sweets, but someone has to be the voice of reason in this greedy, excess-driven world. I hope I'm not giving them eating disorders by making such a big deal about their sugar intake, but at the same time I don't want obese, cavity-infested kids, either. I suppose there's a balance to be struck.
As we finally say goodbye to the Halloween candy, we can now look forward to the gluttony of Thanksgiving and the greed of Christmas. Happy holidays!
VGKMRNGRE6G7
Monday, November 12, 2012
When Another Adult Disciplines Your Child
My 8-year-old son had an eye doctor's appointment today. He wears glasses, and he has not been able to see as well as he should, so I took him in to get a new prescription for some new glasses.
We saw a new doctor that we hadn't seen before. He seemed nice enough, but when the doctor put that refractor machine over M's face (the one with all the lenses that looks like a pair of space-aged binoculars), things got a bit wonky.
In case you're new here, M has mild Asperger's Syndrome as well as some sensory processing issues. He is a sensory seeker, meaning he is constantly feeling, touching, tasting, and squirming. He can't help himself. It's a compulsion for him to touch things. So when the doctor pushed that giant metal mask up against his face, his first instinct was to bring his wiggly fingers up for a quick touchy-feely.
The doctor told him a couple of times not to touch, but M just couldn't help himself. (When I asked him about it later, he told me he didn't even know he was touching it.) So finally the doctor had enough. He brought out the big guns: a booming voice that actually scared both M and me.
"I do NOT want you to touch this," he said with such authority that my insides went cold. "It is very expensive to have this equipment cleaned, so you will NOT touch it again."
M just said very quietly, "OK," and he put his hands under his legs so that he wouldn't forget.
After that, the doctor became quite friendly. He immediately changed the tone of his voice, and he was both polite and encouraging throughout the rest of the exam. I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut at the time, but now I'm wondering if I should have said something to the doc.
When we left the office, I asked M if the doctor had scared him or hurt his feelings, and he said no. Apparently, the incident didn't phase him at all. It did, however, phase me.
I can't stop thinking about it: Should I have said something to the doctor? Should I have stuck up for M and told the doc not to yell at my child? Should I have explained that M has sensory issues and can't help having feely fingers?
Or did the doc do the right thing? M should have listened and not touched the equipment. But when I asked him about it later, he said he didn't even remember doing it. What's the right course of action here?
I went to bat for M this summer when his principal put him in the 3rd grade class with the meanest teacher in the school. I had heard that a child actually wet her pants in this teacher's class because she was afraid to ask to use the bathroom. I told the principal that we don't yell at our kids at home, and we will not tolerate our child being yelled at in school. I won that battle, and M now has the kindest, sweetest teacher I could ask for.
Should I have gone to bat for him today?
This issue concerns me on several levels. On one hand, M's personality (and anyone with an Aspie would probably agree) makes him a bit annoying sometimes. He tends to stand too close, talk too loud, and wiggle too much. It gets on people's nerves.
On the other hand, his personality also makes him oblivious to the fact that he annoys people! He has no idea why his grandmother doesn't want him to "eat" her hair or why his friends back away when he starts touching their faces. And today, he didn't bat an eyelash when the doctor raised his voice and reprimanded in a very firm manner. So in a way, it's a blessing that he is so unaware of how others view him.
I guess I did the right thing by keeping my mouth shut at the doctor's office. As long as it didn't upset M, I'm OK with it. I just don't want to find out that a teacher has been yelling at him or another student has been bullying him, and he doesn't even realize it. I suppose that's a bridge we will cross when we come to it.
It's a tricky business to stick up for your kids. Mine are getting to the age where they need to start standing up for themselves. I can only hope that when the time comes, M will know what to do.
We saw a new doctor that we hadn't seen before. He seemed nice enough, but when the doctor put that refractor machine over M's face (the one with all the lenses that looks like a pair of space-aged binoculars), things got a bit wonky.
In case you're new here, M has mild Asperger's Syndrome as well as some sensory processing issues. He is a sensory seeker, meaning he is constantly feeling, touching, tasting, and squirming. He can't help himself. It's a compulsion for him to touch things. So when the doctor pushed that giant metal mask up against his face, his first instinct was to bring his wiggly fingers up for a quick touchy-feely.
The doctor told him a couple of times not to touch, but M just couldn't help himself. (When I asked him about it later, he told me he didn't even know he was touching it.) So finally the doctor had enough. He brought out the big guns: a booming voice that actually scared both M and me.
"I do NOT want you to touch this," he said with such authority that my insides went cold. "It is very expensive to have this equipment cleaned, so you will NOT touch it again."
M just said very quietly, "OK," and he put his hands under his legs so that he wouldn't forget.
After that, the doctor became quite friendly. He immediately changed the tone of his voice, and he was both polite and encouraging throughout the rest of the exam. I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut at the time, but now I'm wondering if I should have said something to the doc.
When we left the office, I asked M if the doctor had scared him or hurt his feelings, and he said no. Apparently, the incident didn't phase him at all. It did, however, phase me.
I can't stop thinking about it: Should I have said something to the doctor? Should I have stuck up for M and told the doc not to yell at my child? Should I have explained that M has sensory issues and can't help having feely fingers?
Or did the doc do the right thing? M should have listened and not touched the equipment. But when I asked him about it later, he said he didn't even remember doing it. What's the right course of action here?
I went to bat for M this summer when his principal put him in the 3rd grade class with the meanest teacher in the school. I had heard that a child actually wet her pants in this teacher's class because she was afraid to ask to use the bathroom. I told the principal that we don't yell at our kids at home, and we will not tolerate our child being yelled at in school. I won that battle, and M now has the kindest, sweetest teacher I could ask for.
Should I have gone to bat for him today?
This issue concerns me on several levels. On one hand, M's personality (and anyone with an Aspie would probably agree) makes him a bit annoying sometimes. He tends to stand too close, talk too loud, and wiggle too much. It gets on people's nerves.
On the other hand, his personality also makes him oblivious to the fact that he annoys people! He has no idea why his grandmother doesn't want him to "eat" her hair or why his friends back away when he starts touching their faces. And today, he didn't bat an eyelash when the doctor raised his voice and reprimanded in a very firm manner. So in a way, it's a blessing that he is so unaware of how others view him.
I guess I did the right thing by keeping my mouth shut at the doctor's office. As long as it didn't upset M, I'm OK with it. I just don't want to find out that a teacher has been yelling at him or another student has been bullying him, and he doesn't even realize it. I suppose that's a bridge we will cross when we come to it.
It's a tricky business to stick up for your kids. Mine are getting to the age where they need to start standing up for themselves. I can only hope that when the time comes, M will know what to do.
Labels:
asperger syndrome,
discipline
Saturday, November 10, 2012
How to Treat Mommy in an Emergency
It was Saturday morning, so after a long, stressful week I was looking forward to taking a run around the block. By "run" I mean "mostly walk," but I managed to break into a slow jog a couple of times along the way. (I'm not much of a runner. My theory is that my ancestors were royalty from England, so it is not in my blood to be active or athletic in any way. But I occasionally attempt some sort of physical activity in order to avoid dropping dead of a laziness-induced heart attack.)
As I entered into the home stretch of my walk/run, I started to get these weird blinking lights in front of my eyes. They looked like a couple of sparkling, circular prisms. They would have been kind of pretty if they didn't scare me half to death.
I hurried home, hoping that the flashing lights were just a fluke. When they didn't go away after a few minutes, I started to worry.
My immediate thought was "detached retina." I am severely nearsighted, which puts me at a high risk for retina detachment. My prescription is around -13, which equates to about 20/1300 vision. (I'm a legend in the eye doctor's office. The nurses gush over me when they read my chart. One nurse is always apologizing as if it's her fault I'm blind as a bat!)
So I called the eye doctor, and miraculously the office was open on a Saturday. The nurse told me to come in right away. My husband was working, so I was home alone with the kids. I called my mom, who lives close by, and asked her to come over and watch the kids while I went to the doc.
As I got ready to leave, I explained to the kids what was going on. At this point, I was beginning to panic a bit: What if my retina was detaching and I couldn't get to the doctor in time? What if I went blind? What if I was going to the wrong kind of doctor, and I was actually having a stroke? What if I lost consciousness while I was alone with the children? (This was my biggest fear of all.)
"I'm having some weird flashes of light in my eyes," I told the kids. "Mimi is coming over to watch you while I go to the doctor." I was starting to hyperventilate a bit from the panic, so I was feeling lightheaded. I added, "If something goes wrong before she gets here, I want you to call 911 right away."
My daughter gave me a serious look and nodded her head. I hoped I hadn't scared her. When I walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth, she followed me.
"Mommy?"
"Yes, sweeetie," I replied, fully prepared to reassure her that I would be OK and not to worry.
"Can I change my earrings?"
"Your earrings? Not right now. Didn't you understand when I told you I'm having some serious problems and have to go to the doctor?"
She started to pout, and then a few minutes later she asked about the earrings again. She just got her ears pierced this summer, so changing her earrings was kind of a big deal. It involved me putting alcohol on her lobes and making sure she could get the earrings in and out smoothly. It was the last thing I gave a crap about at that moment.
At first, I was shocked and irritated at her lack of concern for her poor mother. Didn't she care that I might have to go to the hospital for emergency surgery? Wasn't she afraid that she might have to call the ambulance if I was in fact having a stroke?
Then I realized that she had no earthly idea what the heck was going on. She's never had an emergency in her life. She's never had to take care of herself or anyone else. She has no concept of life or death or even pain. I couldn't be angry with her for not understanding the potential seriousness of the situation. It was outside of her realm of understanding.
So I just repeated that her earrings would have to wait because I had to go to the doctor.
I finally saw the doctor, and it turns out I was having an ocular migraine. My retina was not detaching. The doctor asked me if I was under any stress lately, and I just kind of laughed. My life is one big ball of stress. I was relieved that my eyesight was fine and that I just needed to relax.
Then I realized that my daughter's life is the exact opposite of mine. She has so little stress that she can't even imagine what an emergency would be like. I have so much stress that I can't even imagine being relaxed. Perhaps we can both learn something from each other.
As I entered into the home stretch of my walk/run, I started to get these weird blinking lights in front of my eyes. They looked like a couple of sparkling, circular prisms. They would have been kind of pretty if they didn't scare me half to death.
![]() |
| This is kind of what my vision looked like, although the background was not as scenic. |
I hurried home, hoping that the flashing lights were just a fluke. When they didn't go away after a few minutes, I started to worry.
My immediate thought was "detached retina." I am severely nearsighted, which puts me at a high risk for retina detachment. My prescription is around -13, which equates to about 20/1300 vision. (I'm a legend in the eye doctor's office. The nurses gush over me when they read my chart. One nurse is always apologizing as if it's her fault I'm blind as a bat!)
So I called the eye doctor, and miraculously the office was open on a Saturday. The nurse told me to come in right away. My husband was working, so I was home alone with the kids. I called my mom, who lives close by, and asked her to come over and watch the kids while I went to the doc.
As I got ready to leave, I explained to the kids what was going on. At this point, I was beginning to panic a bit: What if my retina was detaching and I couldn't get to the doctor in time? What if I went blind? What if I was going to the wrong kind of doctor, and I was actually having a stroke? What if I lost consciousness while I was alone with the children? (This was my biggest fear of all.)
"I'm having some weird flashes of light in my eyes," I told the kids. "Mimi is coming over to watch you while I go to the doctor." I was starting to hyperventilate a bit from the panic, so I was feeling lightheaded. I added, "If something goes wrong before she gets here, I want you to call 911 right away."
My daughter gave me a serious look and nodded her head. I hoped I hadn't scared her. When I walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth, she followed me.
"Mommy?"
"Yes, sweeetie," I replied, fully prepared to reassure her that I would be OK and not to worry.
"Can I change my earrings?"
"Your earrings? Not right now. Didn't you understand when I told you I'm having some serious problems and have to go to the doctor?"
She started to pout, and then a few minutes later she asked about the earrings again. She just got her ears pierced this summer, so changing her earrings was kind of a big deal. It involved me putting alcohol on her lobes and making sure she could get the earrings in and out smoothly. It was the last thing I gave a crap about at that moment.
At first, I was shocked and irritated at her lack of concern for her poor mother. Didn't she care that I might have to go to the hospital for emergency surgery? Wasn't she afraid that she might have to call the ambulance if I was in fact having a stroke?
Then I realized that she had no earthly idea what the heck was going on. She's never had an emergency in her life. She's never had to take care of herself or anyone else. She has no concept of life or death or even pain. I couldn't be angry with her for not understanding the potential seriousness of the situation. It was outside of her realm of understanding.
So I just repeated that her earrings would have to wait because I had to go to the doctor.
I finally saw the doctor, and it turns out I was having an ocular migraine. My retina was not detaching. The doctor asked me if I was under any stress lately, and I just kind of laughed. My life is one big ball of stress. I was relieved that my eyesight was fine and that I just needed to relax.
Then I realized that my daughter's life is the exact opposite of mine. She has so little stress that she can't even imagine what an emergency would be like. I have so much stress that I can't even imagine being relaxed. Perhaps we can both learn something from each other.
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