Sophie woke up this morning feeling dizzy. At first I thought it was just that she got up too fast. But after she finished breakfast and was getting ready to get on the bus, the dizziness hit again. I've made her go to school before when she felt like that, and it was a disaster--she cried on the bus, cried in the office at school, and felt sick the whole time until I'd picked her up. So I kept her home and brought her to work with me.
Thankfully by around 9:30 a.m., she was mostly okay. And a couple hours later, she is walking around, playing, and doesn't have any dizziness at all. I am not sending her to school when there is only 2 hours left (too disruptive to everyone), and I'm keeping my fingers & toes crossed she's OK for tomorrow.
The ironic thing is, just yesterday I was bragging over email to my girlfriend & Sophie's godmother LeAnne, that Sophie seemed all better, that we have only had a couple episodes this year and the last one in May was a one day event. I'd said I thought we could be out of the woods on the whole dizziness thing. That they might be over & done with.
Isn't that always when you get a big wake up call? When you feel overconfident? It's happened more than once in my life, to be sure.
And so it is with my diet, too. Let me first say I am on plan, and aside from the bit of cool whip free I had with my sf jello last night (which is allowed, but the cool whip is not), I have been spot on. And I've been feeling pretty cocky about it.
But this morning, even before Sophie's dizziness hit, I had thoughts racing through my head--do I really have to eat tuna again today? Salad again? Eggs again? (didn't do eggs, though--had grits w/protein powder instead) Why do I have to spend 15 minutes getting all my food prepped for the day, every day? It's not fair. I just want to go to a restaurant for lunch. I just want to eat like a normal person. I just want a bagel and coffee with cream and sugar. I want I want I want.
And then this thing with Sophie happened again. After I figured out it was not a passing spell and she was indeed not going to school, I got her settled down in the family room to rest, and I collapsed on my bedroom floor in tears. It was just more than I could bear at that moment.
I didn't wallow long, maybe 3 or 4 minutes. Then I picked myself up and got the rest of the way ready for work.
And then it hit me that my first impulse to cope did not involve the desire to face plant into a bag of donuts. It wasn't food I thought of to soothe my ache. I was aching, and I was craving relief, but food did not pop into my head as my first line of defense. Prayer did. Half a xanax did (better living through chemicals!). And taking some deep breaths and realizing it was not a big deal if she missed one day of school, that I am so lucky to be able to bring her to work with me, and that no matter what, things would eventually be okay.
I have a feeling that there are going to be more days like this in the near future, where I'm going to feel overwhelmed with grief or stress or whatever is the emotion du jour. And each day I don't depend on food to rescue me, is one more day of strength.
One more day. One more day. One more day.