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judifilksign Spent my morning with my bud K, home recovering from surgery. It seems amazing to me that they let her out this quickly, but surgery has advanced enough that it is so much less invasive, that a rotator cuff injury is outpatient. Her husband and I rearranged the living room furniture to make way for her rehab chair, which automatically moves her arm right/left, up/down gently to keep her shoulder from freezing up or developing too much scar tissue. Six hours a day for the next four weeks.
I also had my endocrinologist's appointment, and while I've only dropped two pounds since I last saw her in February, she is still proud of me, because she says she can see a difference in my face, my figure, and most importantly, all of my numbers, which were spot-on perfect. I'd said I was exercising 2-3 hours a day, and she told me she could absolutely believe me, because my test results reflected that. For the first time ever, my cholesterol numbers, both bad and good were in the ranges she wanted to see. She said that I was in the frustrating stage of plateauing, but that if I wanted to see more immediate results, I needed to drop my carbohydrate intake by a couple of exchanges every day.
On the electrical resistance scale, I'd changed seven pounds of fat to something else, probably muscle, going from 80 pounds of fat to 73 pounds. The scale also showed that I was running dehydrated, so I need to drink more water to make everything go better.
Sparkle was a grump today, testing limits. She blew a fit about going to the YMCA , and showed all of the signs of being uncooperative with the sweet young thing teacher. So, I asked to help, and joined Sparkle's class as her one-on-one, "you're not getting away with tantrums to get out of doing what you're told" aide.
Sparkle did a lot of shouting at first, "I'M SAD AND I'M MAD AND I'M BAD!" she screamed. I told her it was fine to be sad and mad, but not bad, and she would do her swimming, or I would know the reason why. She did huffy screams as she swam freestyle to the rope, me walking alongside her, but she did do it. I kept beside her, and made her swim instead of walking or bouncing across the pool, each time the teacher sent them with a different stroke. When completely uncooperative, I put my hand under her, "making" her kick and paddle her backstroke and freestyle by not letting her touch the bottom.
The teacher had students pick a float noodle so she could isolate the arm movement and leg movements for breast stroke. Sparkle would not choose a color we offered, but did take one from the deck. She protested each time the teacher praised her for doing a good job. When we practiced the frog leg kick, I physically manipulated her legs to do the kick correctly, and only told her she was doing it right when she actually did it right, instead of generic "That's right!" "Good!" or "Keep trying!" Instead, I'd say "Not flutter kick; round frog kick - ROUND, yes, that. Good listening, good kick." As we went across the pool with this kind of instant, consistent feedback, Sparkle's mood flipped, and she asked her teacher to hold "Mariana's crown" so she could swim. The teacher mimed holding something, and off Sparkle went.
Sparkle has resisted getting into the indoor pool's deep end for about six weeks, and has grown more and more adamant that she will not enter that area. I got her to say she would try, and that I would go with her. The class went under the ropes, Sparkle's arms went around my neck, and I swam with her to the far side of the deep end, where tiny bubbles coming up from a filter or something have freaked her out.
The teacher played a treading water game, called "The wall is POISON!" in which she would call out silly things like popcorn, and Popsicles, and Peas Porridge Hot, or POISON! When she called poison, then you let go of the wall and tread water until she said to come back. This was done in five to ten second bursts, about the time it takes to shove away from the wall and then flail back. I pushed away with Sparkle, then held her away from me, and let her swim back to the wall. She thought it was a great game, and started listening to her teacher. Sparkle said to me, "You can go now, it's okay," and checking nonverbally with her teacher, I exited to the lap lanes and got about five laps in before class ended.
They played a neat game of shark, where the "fish" on the wall would call: "What time is it?" and the shark would name a time, say "Three O'Clock." The fish would swim that many strokes toward the shark, and repeat until the shark would say "It's lunch time!" and chase the fish back to the wall and try to catch them. Sparkle played but was only copying what other children were doing, not really getting the rules.
We went out to the outdoor pool as a reward afterward, and had twenty minutes of Sparkle clinging to me, and bobbing up and down holding her breath underwater, staying underwater by hanging on to my legs and feet. The outdoor pool water was as warm as bath water. Unsurprising, because the temperature outside read 98 degrees in the shade, and it had cooled off a bit now that it was late afternoon. I tried to go over to the deep end for a bit of treading water while Sparkle played with another child, but she tried to go under the rope, and so I ended up with the lamprey attached for a bit. We played a bit of the shark game, and Sparkle practiced being the shark for the first time, with me cuing her: "I say, 'What time is it?' and you tell me a time."
Then Sparkle said "It's six-thirty." (The real time.)
I said, "SIX?" and counted each stroke towards her very loudly, "ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR-FIVE-SIX STROKES! What time is it?"
Sparkle looked as though a light went off. A devious look crossed her face. "Twelve O'clock!" she said excitedly.
I "swam" twelve wimpy strokes, counting mightily until I was right in front of her nose. "What time is it?" I asked.
"Lunch time!" She screamed, and tried to get me, and was surprised that she almost didn't, because she was swimming, and I was kicking off the pool floor backwards. But she poured it on, and caught me before I touched the wall, and was so proud she had. A successful game!
I waited until 8:45, when it was only 87 degrees by our porch thermometer to go cycling. It was still muggy, so I took it slowly and carefully.
Today's critters were cardinals attacking everything in sight, including dive bombing the path ahead of me, then veering off and attacking other birds on branches. I think the male cardinals were catching sight of themselves in puddle mirages from overhead, which disappeared as they got closer, then they were frustrated, and went after something else close. A couple of the cardinals actually flew smack into the path, and stunned themselves, lying on the ground a moment before fluttering off to the fence or a branch or just off the path on the ground. This is why I think they were "attacking" something like a reflection.
Since I will be going to ConFluence, I rode five miles, crossing the bridge. The garden along the way had its corn totally trashed, ears ripped out and dragged across the path, to be hidden in the grass opposite the rail road tracks from the garden. I felt bad for the people trying to grow things.
On the way back, the path was bright with the twilight reflecting from the sky after the sun set, and the fireflies only glowed from within the thickets. I was able to see in the slanting light on my way out deer trails winding through those thickets between the farms and the trail. So, I could see how the deer would be able to easily move and still be unseen.
I know the con has a pool, so I will attempt to do a few laps Friday and Saturday. We'll see if I keep that goal.
I also had my endocrinologist's appointment, and while I've only dropped two pounds since I last saw her in February, she is still proud of me, because she says she can see a difference in my face, my figure, and most importantly, all of my numbers, which were spot-on perfect. I'd said I was exercising 2-3 hours a day, and she told me she could absolutely believe me, because my test results reflected that. For the first time ever, my cholesterol numbers, both bad and good were in the ranges she wanted to see. She said that I was in the frustrating stage of plateauing, but that if I wanted to see more immediate results, I needed to drop my carbohydrate intake by a couple of exchanges every day.
On the electrical resistance scale, I'd changed seven pounds of fat to something else, probably muscle, going from 80 pounds of fat to 73 pounds. The scale also showed that I was running dehydrated, so I need to drink more water to make everything go better.
Sparkle was a grump today, testing limits. She blew a fit about going to the YMCA , and showed all of the signs of being uncooperative with the sweet young thing teacher. So, I asked to help, and joined Sparkle's class as her one-on-one, "you're not getting away with tantrums to get out of doing what you're told" aide.
Sparkle did a lot of shouting at first, "I'M SAD AND I'M MAD AND I'M BAD!" she screamed. I told her it was fine to be sad and mad, but not bad, and she would do her swimming, or I would know the reason why. She did huffy screams as she swam freestyle to the rope, me walking alongside her, but she did do it. I kept beside her, and made her swim instead of walking or bouncing across the pool, each time the teacher sent them with a different stroke. When completely uncooperative, I put my hand under her, "making" her kick and paddle her backstroke and freestyle by not letting her touch the bottom.
The teacher had students pick a float noodle so she could isolate the arm movement and leg movements for breast stroke. Sparkle would not choose a color we offered, but did take one from the deck. She protested each time the teacher praised her for doing a good job. When we practiced the frog leg kick, I physically manipulated her legs to do the kick correctly, and only told her she was doing it right when she actually did it right, instead of generic "That's right!" "Good!" or "Keep trying!" Instead, I'd say "Not flutter kick; round frog kick - ROUND, yes, that. Good listening, good kick." As we went across the pool with this kind of instant, consistent feedback, Sparkle's mood flipped, and she asked her teacher to hold "Mariana's crown" so she could swim. The teacher mimed holding something, and off Sparkle went.
Sparkle has resisted getting into the indoor pool's deep end for about six weeks, and has grown more and more adamant that she will not enter that area. I got her to say she would try, and that I would go with her. The class went under the ropes, Sparkle's arms went around my neck, and I swam with her to the far side of the deep end, where tiny bubbles coming up from a filter or something have freaked her out.
The teacher played a treading water game, called "The wall is POISON!" in which she would call out silly things like popcorn, and Popsicles, and Peas Porridge Hot, or POISON! When she called poison, then you let go of the wall and tread water until she said to come back. This was done in five to ten second bursts, about the time it takes to shove away from the wall and then flail back. I pushed away with Sparkle, then held her away from me, and let her swim back to the wall. She thought it was a great game, and started listening to her teacher. Sparkle said to me, "You can go now, it's okay," and checking nonverbally with her teacher, I exited to the lap lanes and got about five laps in before class ended.
They played a neat game of shark, where the "fish" on the wall would call: "What time is it?" and the shark would name a time, say "Three O'Clock." The fish would swim that many strokes toward the shark, and repeat until the shark would say "It's lunch time!" and chase the fish back to the wall and try to catch them. Sparkle played but was only copying what other children were doing, not really getting the rules.
We went out to the outdoor pool as a reward afterward, and had twenty minutes of Sparkle clinging to me, and bobbing up and down holding her breath underwater, staying underwater by hanging on to my legs and feet. The outdoor pool water was as warm as bath water. Unsurprising, because the temperature outside read 98 degrees in the shade, and it had cooled off a bit now that it was late afternoon. I tried to go over to the deep end for a bit of treading water while Sparkle played with another child, but she tried to go under the rope, and so I ended up with the lamprey attached for a bit. We played a bit of the shark game, and Sparkle practiced being the shark for the first time, with me cuing her: "I say, 'What time is it?' and you tell me a time."
Then Sparkle said "It's six-thirty." (The real time.)
I said, "SIX?" and counted each stroke towards her very loudly, "ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR-FIVE-SIX STROKES! What time is it?"
Sparkle looked as though a light went off. A devious look crossed her face. "Twelve O'clock!" she said excitedly.
I "swam" twelve wimpy strokes, counting mightily until I was right in front of her nose. "What time is it?" I asked.
"Lunch time!" She screamed, and tried to get me, and was surprised that she almost didn't, because she was swimming, and I was kicking off the pool floor backwards. But she poured it on, and caught me before I touched the wall, and was so proud she had. A successful game!
I waited until 8:45, when it was only 87 degrees by our porch thermometer to go cycling. It was still muggy, so I took it slowly and carefully.
Today's critters were cardinals attacking everything in sight, including dive bombing the path ahead of me, then veering off and attacking other birds on branches. I think the male cardinals were catching sight of themselves in puddle mirages from overhead, which disappeared as they got closer, then they were frustrated, and went after something else close. A couple of the cardinals actually flew smack into the path, and stunned themselves, lying on the ground a moment before fluttering off to the fence or a branch or just off the path on the ground. This is why I think they were "attacking" something like a reflection.
Since I will be going to ConFluence, I rode five miles, crossing the bridge. The garden along the way had its corn totally trashed, ears ripped out and dragged across the path, to be hidden in the grass opposite the rail road tracks from the garden. I felt bad for the people trying to grow things.
On the way back, the path was bright with the twilight reflecting from the sky after the sun set, and the fireflies only glowed from within the thickets. I was able to see in the slanting light on my way out deer trails winding through those thickets between the farms and the trail. So, I could see how the deer would be able to easily move and still be unseen.
I know the con has a pool, so I will attempt to do a few laps Friday and Saturday. We'll see if I keep that goal.
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Good job improving your cholesterol
Date: 2011-07-22 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-22 12:46 pm (UTC)And good on you and good on Sparkle for converting what might have been a really unproductive lesson to a productive one, and good on Sparkle for getting the rules of the game!
I'm glad you are keeping us updated.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-22 05:43 pm (UTC)I'm glad Sparkle overcame her reluctance and found her place in the class.