Despite drinking an over abundance of caffeine, I'm constantly exhausted, restless sleeping at night, and my drive to do pretty much anything is zilch. Plus there is that random racing heartbeat thing which at first I attributed to maybe cutting back on the pot of coffee in the morning. At the urging of my husband, I finally broke down and sought out a doctor's office.
This is trickier than it sounds. I descend from French Canadian fur trappers, unless I'm losing a limb or dying, most illnesses and maladies can be toughed out with a band aid, neosporin, and alcohol. Don't get me wrong, I faithfully attended my OB while carrying all my children, and I will bring them to the doctor for a runny nose, but when it comes to myself, meh. I have sliced myself open with kitchen knives pretty good, wrapped them up in gauze and tape and went to work bleeding through my bandages. Rarely, unless I am hospital worthy sick, do I seek medical attention. Which can be a problem because when you only take care of the big things, the little things pile up. Which brings us back to heart palpitations, a twitchy eye, and maybe a rash I need to get checked out (relax it was just eczema). So I attempt to make an appt. Since I am a new patient, I get one weeks away. Funny how that works, when you finally break down and go for a doctor, it's an epic quest to find one.
When I finally get into that office, it's one of those startling little wake up calls. She starts throwing out words I don't like, the diabetes, anemia, I zoned out a bit after that. The racing heart beat worries her, (well doc, it worries me too, hence I have dragged myself in here). She even asks if I am nervous coming here. After the Fur Trapper explanation, she prescribes exercise, At least 30 mins a day.
Now, I am saying to myself "Duh, really?" I'm a writer, and a gamer, my people are notorious for their cave dwelling ways, but I'm also a mother of two very active little boys, which in my mind is plenty of freaking exercise thank you very much. Three days later I tried to take her up on the order and took the little guy out for a walk while big brother was schooling.
I carried him on my shoulders through the neighborhood, discovering a field at the bottom of the hill I didn't realize was there for the three years we lived here. As he ran around, decapitating dandelions and trying to snatch honey bees out of the air, I'm realizing I really do need to get out more. This is even more obvious trying to go back, which is all up hill mind you. Half way up I'm embarrassingly gasping for air like a fish on dry land while my son clings to my head. I have to stop midway to "let him run around some more" so I can find where I dropped my lungs.
Dear god when did I get so out of shape? But really, that Dr. visit was disheartening. I have no misconceptions that I have a body shaped by motherhood, I earned my scars and stripes, but I have not been taking care of myself. That's a terrible feeling. I don't feel healthy anymore. So after staggering back into the house, and drinking water (go, go, healthy me!) I firmly resolve to take my little tyke out bee chasing as often as I can if I have to throw myself out the door.
Though next time, perhaps I should wear sunscreen. I think I burnt my elbows.
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