Yesterday’s starting weight: 216.8 <— down almost an entire pound from the day before, progress at last.
Yesterday’s calories: 1710
Yesterday’s exercise: 3758 steps
Today’s weight: 215.0
Yesterday was so miserable. I was up too late and up again too early. I spent the entire day away from home. I got up at 6am and took the husband to work and then I went to school where I spent the entire day working on a PTA project. I should be there now, as well.
At the end of the day, the younger child got sent to the nurse because she’d run full force into her friend, bumping their heads together. The nurse thought it was no big deal, and I agreed. There was no bump and no bruise.
Until we started to go back to get the husband and she started complaining about the miserable headache, then said she couldn’t focus and read the words on the page of her book, and then she started to fall asleep.
So…it’s a concussion. That’s pretty much the bulk of the symptoms in a five minute period.
Therefore, we went to the hospital. Do you know what I hate most in this world, more than the evil ex? Hospitals. They take forever, they cost the Earth, and I was already feeling weak, dizzy and exhausted.
HOURS LATER, we got the confirmation of a minor concussion. She has to rest today and no PE for the next week unless she is completely symptom free today.
And this is how I found out that the ex’s new health insurance is outrageously terrible. The ER copay has gone from 100 dollars to 250 dollars and not a single one of the ER physicians is covered by his insurance, at all.
I was up with her throughout the night, making sure she was sleeping well, giving her ibuprofen on a regular schedule and keeping her in as good of health as possible.
The ex insisted that because it was his day, she had to be given to him in the morning, so she could rest at his house, with her two little brothers, both toddlers. Because what every recovering concussion sufferer needs is two toddlers who are excited to see them and play with them. Obviously.
The tooth pain is getting out of hand. Last night, not even the full complement of pain meds could let me sleep. This morning, it took an entire vicodin to kill the pain and even that only lasted two hours.
The husband is going to see if they’ll issue him a medical credit card, so we can maybe get this taken care of sooner rather than later. The pain is outrageous. And that is what is keeping me from PTA work today, although I led them to believe that it was because of the concussion child.
I do have to be there tonight, it’s the major fundraiser of the spring that we’re having, but I’ll only have to be there for a few hours and then I can come home and go to bed. I’d be sleeping now if I wasn’t so anxious to get the sleep schedule back into check.
Also, if you were wondering how the ex handled the instruction to stop making the children call his new wife “mom” and me “other mom” the answer is, not at all well. He told them to tell me that they would, but in his house they are required to call her “mom” on pain of severe punishments.
My therapist called in sick yesterday, so I don’t even have that going for me.
I am desperate to feel better. Desperate.