It’s going to be one of those days.
And by that, I mean I need to use all my internal resources to figure things out.
It started yesterday, after Tyoma came home from school. I proudly restrained myself from my usual singing and hand clapping (I am happy to see him!). I gave him space and ignored “rumbling” behaviors, using my own list of what to do to keep on track.
As usual, Tyoma flung off his pants.The nasty rash on his bottom had become red, raised and angry. For two weeks, I’ve moisturized the patch and applied Lanacane. Now it was worse, and he had a fever (100.9). I called the nurse who recommended he be seen today at 6:10 that evening.
Mentally, I calculated the sheer agony of an evening doctor’s appointment versus the sheer agony of non-stop fretting over Tyoma’s health. When I put off my concerns over rashes last year, Tyoma wound up in the hospital for an allergic reaction to penicillin. So, 6:10 it was.
Egor sometimes comes to appointments with me, since talking to the doctor disorganizes Tyoma (and me too!). Last night, E had so much back pain; I could not subject him to such a grueling experience. So on the twenty minute drive to the doctors, T asked me every addition and place value question he could think of. This helped organize him, but I felt greatly distracted as I drove. My strategy–give answers and fake being interested. I am quite skilled at this!
Everything went smoothly at the doctors until she started to talk to me. Tyoma melted down–no tears just wild behavior–tipping things over and tearing paper. I handed the doctor a notebook and asked her to write down information for me. It worked. T continued to act out until we were back in the car and everything was quiet. His transformation into a saint was instantaneous. I might have aggravated beyond belief without my new sensory insight.
On the drive home, Tyoma was still a question machine, but in a placid, let’s-be-friends sort of way. He created interesting “puzzles” out of a wooden block fidget and hummed to himself. I felt so stressed when I got home I wanted to scream, but I organized our bedroom closet instead.
I felt better in about twenty minutes and went back to mama duty. After kiddo was in bed, I made the mistake of watching House, MD with E. How many times do I watch it and find myself too wound up to hit my target bedtime of 10:00? About four times out of five. Well, I was tired and just wanted to sit and “be” with hubby. The blaring special effects of my recent DVR movies (SyFy!) would surely melt my last two brain cells. Why not a little House? @#$%&;*%$@!!!
It wasn’t even a good episode. You know what set me off? Poor House, being nastily berated for insensitivity, when it was obvious to me that the poor fellow was simply overwhelmed by the speaker’s crisis. Did I personalize this? Yes.
At 9:40, I was trying to fall asleep with my body vibrating with tension. My ribs seemed to be especially harmonic. I closed my eyes and the image of a red oscilloscope recording the vibrations of my ribs appeared.
I watched the rib oscillations and imagined myself being monitored and tested for mental and physical wellness. The vivid vision fascinated me and I half slipped into a trance state, synchronizing the vibrations to all the bones in my body. It was almost a physical sensation and it rather freaked me out. I have always been able to close my eyes, deeply concentrate, and freak the shit out of myself.
Mind you, I knew my little hallucination was not real. It is my anxiety coping mechanism. Instead ruminating over events, graphic and daydreams transport me to a odd, but more soothing place. Nevertheless, anxiety still intrudes, and the bliss of having odd thoughts turns ugly. I shook myself out of it, checked my email, and trotted downstairs. I paced and watched Comedy Central until 11:00 when I fell into a peaceful vibrationless sleep.