... It's March!!!
I do not delve into my personal life, too deeply or too often. I do not discuss hardships with friends, patients or even family, for the most part (family perhaps sometimes, my mother often). I usually take the opinion that, "15% of most people do not care about other peoples problems and the other 85% are just glad not to have them". Therefore, upon careful consideration, I have decided to create this sincerely personal post. Through the last couple of weeks I have been required to think back upon my life, my struggles, my choices, and where my future is heading. Who have I been, what has led me to the me that I see in the mirror, and who does that person become.
Living has a funny way of presenting a person with what is important, then snatching it away and presenting something that is least expected but far more important. Sometimes this is very good and you'll walk away having grown into a "next level of you". Other times, life presents you with the "not quite worst-case-scenario," but something in that league, and you still come out of it grown, but there are scars.
This year has brought a number of troubles:
My oldest daughter has been an angel, actually. I have been blessed that she has taken 2018 in such stride with such grace. We have struggled over the years. She is a particularly strong personality and has a very loud mouth (which will serve her well as an adult). She suffers from some variation of a sensory processing disorder (originally I wrote more about it but decided that details are unimportant for you, the reader). While she has been amazing, and I really cannot say enough good about her, we have still collided and she still fiercely struggles from time-to-time. Recently, my daughters "sperm donor," as my wife's family calls him, has been making noise that he wants my daughter to start to get to know him, and his family. Apparently, his mother and sisters are moving to the area and this is spurring him to consider action toward his oldest child. Briefly: he left shortly after she turned one and after a cursory attempt to stay connected to her, he signed over his rights to her mother, my wife, in exchange for never needing to pay child-support. He's had at least 2 more children with another women, maybe 3, and he lives a few short miles from us. In his recent exchange with my wife about our daughter, he blamed my wife for "making him" stop seeing her. His memory is apparently selective in that it was him that could not stop doing drugs, stop smoking, or become mature enough to make the time to be a dad. Not until, that is, he met his current baby-mama (whose finances are suspect as she has 5 children from 3 dads, they remain unmarried (Medicaid and Food Stamps), and his job allows for many underhanded and under-the-table cash deals). His heavy-handed and ill-guided train of thought risks the delicate homeostasis we have built and maintain in our home. My daughter only knows me as her father, and he threatens this.
My youngest daughter has always been our "odd-bird". In fact, early on, my nickname for her has been "little bird" as a nod to her small size, loud call and oddities. Last year, my wife and I began to recognize significant "delays" to her development, especially with regard to communication and socialization (red-flag). We also began to recognize "advancements" to skills like ordering, memory and a need for stimulating repetitive movement. Last year we began to reference her as our "artistic" child. Funny? No, but it was our way to begin to cope with a possible future for our youngest. 2018 has brought more signs of possible Autism, as well as two occupational therapist and a child counselor with Babies Can't Wait urging us to get her evaluated and into the Marcus Center for Autism. For those that do not know, it is hard to explain. On the one hand, your child is right there and has never changed. On the other hand, you are forced to let go of any reference to a "neuro-normal" life, and since the world we live in is built for the "neuro-normal"... well there's the rub. It is part grieving, part re-imagining, and a course correction all at once.
My wife. Now her struggle is real. Last year, after struggling with depression for many months, my wife decided to get help. Fast forward down that rabbit hole... She is diagnosed with bipolar depression (bipolar II). She is trying different meds and struggling with mood regulators, anti-psychotics and all of the wonderful side effects that go along with them. 2018 brought a complete breakdown of the medications. The just stopped working. After a brief, yet careful, debate, I brought her to a facility to help get her head right and her meds sorted. She was in for 10 days. In those 10 days, both girls became sick with the flu, so I was working through that as she was working through group. Everything seemed to have gone well, she came home clearer and on the correct doses. She dove right in to "mommy duty" and right back into life. It was great for about a three days, then she had an allergic reaction to the new anti-psychotic, to which I had to rush her to the E.R. She came off of that medicine immediately. It took a whole week for her to get a prescription for a new anti-psych, it then took 2 weeks for the pharmacy to carry it, and to top it all off, the insurance company (United Health Care I'm calling you out) would only carry 13 pills... per year (PER FUCKING YEAR!). So here we are, down an anti-psychotic, my wife wavering between slightly depressed (on a good day) and moderately depressed (most days). For those who have never lived with someone who is clinically depressed, I cannot possibly help you to understand, but it is like living on shifting sand all of the time. To cope, my wife just got her thigh tattoo redone, which is always cathartic for her, but now we live in uncertainty as to what is next.
As for me, I have been elbow-deep in eating low-carb since January 3rd. I have lost 25-30 pounds since then. I have not been able to find a schedule in which to add a workout routine, but it is a priority. I paid a visit to my nephrologist (kidney doctor) this year, it has been over 3 years since then. According to his records, I am the same weight I was 3 years ago; that is unsettling. I did blood work and a 24 hour collection. Unfortunately, my numbers are falling. At the time of writing this post, I have not spoken to him or his nurse, but the results are online and they indicate that I am hemorrhaging protein, the creatinine is too high, the creatinine clearance too low, my GFR is too low, uric acid is too high, and to top it off, my blood glucose is too high (not uncommon for low-carb/keto diets). Now, the protein may be elevated because I was dehydrated the day before due to a 13 hour workday, or there may be an infection because my eosinophils and lymphocytes are too low. Either way not good... Further, my numbers at work are low. Of the three doctors, I see the least amount of patients per week. From a doctor-patient perspective, I spend a great deal of time with each patient. HOWEVER, from a business perspective, I am not making enough money to pay the staff, keep the lights on... basically pay for any of the overhead... pay myself, etc and so on. In every practice, medical, chiropractic, or whomever, there is the dance between seeing enough patients in a day and giving enough time to each patient. My father says that I am their chiropractor NOT their counselor. This is logical and for those that own their own business I can hear, "so what's the problem?" I am slow. I have always been slow as a doctor... as a Zamboni driver, as a tutor, as a student, etc. My style is slow and thorough. In fact, many of my patient appreciate and mention the fact that I listen and exam in a thorough and compete way. When I adjust, I check (analyze), make the correction (adjust), then recheck. I move to the next analysis or correction from there. It takes me more than twice as long to adjust than it does my father... about three times longer than our independent contractor. I AM NOT saying that I am better, in fact, I am lamenting the opposite. If left to my own devices, if my father and the other doctor where not there, I'd probably failed threefold already. It hurts to think that, in order to be the doctor I want to be, I would not be able to make it in solo-practice. Finally, with all that we are having to do with my youngest daughter, I am beginning to discover that I am probably an diagnosed high-functioning autistic. My mother has no doubt, actually. She sees the similarities from my daughters behavior now to my behavior then. This revelation has explained so very much of my childhood and my behaviors now. I feel relief through understanding as well as dread for what my daughter will have to go through. It is abundantly clear in my mind that life is not built for the neurally diverse, and when life is the bully...<pause for dramatic effect>... well that's life, isn't it? (painful sarcasm sets in)
Here it is. Only a little more than 10 weeks into 2018 and I just want it to be 2019 already.
So how does this relate to "Health and Fitness"?
Aside from the obvious, there is wisdom in offloading your problems. Even if the venue is an online blog in which no one will ever read, there is health to be attained by being able to explain that which weighs on you. I recommend, however, more conventional approaches, friends, family, counseling, etc, but if you are like me, then you may find outlets in more creative places.
There is also something to be said about facing your fears, actually there is EVERYTHING to be said. It scares the hell out of me to put this out into the world. Scares me even more that someone will read this, and petrifies me that I will find out they have read it. That is the main reason for me writing and posting on this miserably rainy Sunday morning. I cannot say that I understand it, but it is healthy to face fears and grow.
"To find depth, resolve and strength through facing fear, that is boss!"
Thank you for reading,
DocB---DC
