I don't wanna, and you can't make me!

Sigh.
Let's just say the last couple of days have been a little stressful. I'm going to start with a question for you: Is there something you hate to do but know you.have.to? Now we know we all have those little things and before I go into a rant about what's been happening I'm going to be mature about it and tell you about me: I hate brushing my teeth.






Seriously. I hate it. This has not always been the case since I have Six (yeah 6!!!) Dentists in my family, and not distant relatives...I'm talking about my sister, another sister's husband, 3 cousins, and aunt...etc. Oh, and next year my Hubs brother will graduate a DDS as well. I even remember when my sister was in college (she is 13 yrs older) and had to do free clinics and some of them was in our church, my mother will send us alone to go get our teeth cleaned (it was 2 blocks away). So I always done it gladly, heck I rather go to the dentist than the bank. I hate banks. OK, I'm going off again.

Anyways, while pregnant with my little guy I was sick all the time, all 40 weeks. Morning, afternoon, evening, middle of the night. On top of it brushing my teeth meant guarantee puking. From then on I associate brushing my teeth with getting sick so I don't enjoy it. I do it, I do the whole shebang of flossing, brushing, teeth whitening, and I'm one of those freaks with 2 types of gum and Altoids in her purse. Don't you go there thinking I have a dragon mouth. I do it because I know I must. My point is that we all do things we don't want to.

But my husband is a little boy having a tantrum when it comes to the Doctor. Wanna see a picture of him?






That's my hubs. I have been so streessed because I'm trying to get him to get checked again. When I was pregnant with the little guy, one night while I was laying in bed watching TV, I heard rumbling, like when things are moving in an earthquake. I got up to find the hubs sitting at the computer desk, shaking, like he was having an epileptic attack. That was a scary scene. I kept calling him and trying to hold him. A few seconds later he stopped shaking and kept saying he was ok. He refused to go to the ER but I manage to convince him to see a Dr.

He had a non-epileptic seizure. He was listening to a podcast online and was laughing. Apparently as he was laughing so hard, he stop sending enough oxygen to his brain causing the seizure. I didn't even know that could happen. He was given a cat scan, an EKG (that came irregular), a hearing test- which prove that hes getting deaf, and was diagnose with Thyroid problems. He was also supposed to loose weight.

Fast forward to now. He is not taking his medication, has not gotten his hearing aid, has gained more weight and his sleep apnea is getting worse. He is also getting sluggish and tired a lot. He seems to think all this is ok, but is not and is got me so scared. I finally had to call reinforcements and together we convinced him to go back to the Dr.

The shocker of it all is that he still thinks I'm making a big deal out of nothing. He is taking it easy. Blood work has been done and has a referral for a Cardiologist and a sleep disorder test. He is finally back on his medication, but may have to be adjusted. Seems to me like I have no choice but to be the annoying motherly wife and keep bugging him about this stuff.

The scary thing was the conversation about his weight. The Dr. sees that he is not making any effort to loose the weight and even though he is tall he is 289lbs. BMI of 41.5; the borderline for normal is under 25. He was told he MUST loose 8lbs a month as soon as the Cardiologist clears him off , if he doesn't would be sent to an Bariatric Surgeon to be consider for Gastric bypass. That was a shock to me that he even qualifies for that. The Dr. said to us "if he doesn't loose the weight and get this under control he could die, we are trying to save his life. This is serious".
SAY WHAT?!!!!

I can't believe this. He keeps telling me " you know I'm gonna be ok" but I tell him I don't know that. He has always refused to do anything about it, he gets mad when I ask him not to eat junk food or drink so much soda. But my heart is breaking at the thought of waiting all my life to find him, my best friend, my soul-mate, the father of my children, only to loose him to junk food.

Let me tell you...no Oreo, brownies or chips taste that good.
I don't want to seem like a drama queen and I sure as hell going to do everything I can to make sure we get pass this, and I know is not a terminal disease (God forbid) but it lighted a fired under my ars and show me how much this can truly affect all of us.

I have been striving to be a good home maker and wife, the type that makes home made food like back home, trying to be attentive to him; but I guess now it would have to be with a grilled chicken and a salad.
{pictures are of a recent Shrimp Gumbo from the homeland that I made for us}



This has been one long dramatic post. Sorry.
Let me go off to bed since I've been doing better at getting my sleep back...although my oldest manage to take this little shoot of me today- I was supposed to be watching HGTV...

ZZZzzzz

Over & out