Fighting the rising tide…and failing

We knew the weight would pile back on once the Risperdal returned to the mix, but it is nonetheless frustrating to see it happen.  We feel like semi-failures.  I say semi because we do all we can, and we know it…

Of course, the other part of the semi is that we wish we could do more.  J exercises every day, eats prudently-ish (I cannot say he is a role model for not eating anything he shouldn’t, but there is not a trace of salt-laden Ramen noodle, glow-in-the-dark-powdered-cheese macaroni, and so on…  He gets veggies every day, he has a limited amount of cheese, and still here come the pounds, forming a suit of armor around him.

We can tell he is hungry.  We can tell part of it is the Risperdal.  We know some of it is the appetite of a 22 year-old male body.  In order to control his weight in the way we wish we could drastic measures would be required: a ridiculously low amount of calories, a tremendously hectic pace of exercise.  It is, sadly, unrealistic.  We are hoping that the warmer days ahead will allow us to take him for walks on top of the exercise he does in our garage.

This, of course, will only go so far to help us keep his weight under control.  We are still on the “J’s wearing an XL instead of a L” portion of our frustration…we want to keep our frustration at that level.  Last evening, as we sat in the Urgent Care waiting for J to be seen (more on that later,) we were pondering whether he needs a whole milligram of the Risperdal, or if we’re just comfortable with that dose.

Did we go from .5 to a full mg because we’re chicken?  Or did he really need it then, but no longer needs it now?  Since we’re seeing the psych on Friday, I will pose this question. Before then we will do much inner monologuing, much discourse…  There is a certain degree of desperation that sets in when your child (regardless of whether he’s built like a  linebacker, or not) is hurting himself.  You want it to stop.  You might make choices at that moment than you wouldn’t in other circumstances.

Why are we thinking this now?  Is it just the weight?  No, not really.

Yesterday J wasn’t feeling well.  He wasn’t feeling well, and he was going out of his way to prove he was fine.  It was his left ear, see…and he is VERY TOUCHY about his ears.  Many years ago he had to go to the ENT to have a piece of earplug removed from each ear.  That didn’t go well.  At the school (never mind who the teacher was, or why he made such a stupid decision…regardless of whether he won Teacher of the Year for the state,) they had broken an earplug in half, and pushed it into J’s ear.  They were wedged in there pretty solidly, and the removal process was not painless, and it certainly did not lack in drama or trauma.

So our son was being stoic, and I knew something was wrong.  We had a wee bit of an argument.  I discovered how strong he really is, and NO, he didn’t hurt me, hit me, push me…he simply stretched his arm out to block my way (I was trying to Proloquo my way into a doctor’s visit) and I COULD NOT MOVE HIM…  There was no violence, no aggression, no anger…just sheer determination a la Gandalf that none shall pass…and none did.

Of course, J realized that he had done something wrong, and he then hugged me (thus proving his strength once more,) and said he was SORRY.

Anyway, long story short: I saw blood when I gently rinsed his ear with hydrogen peroxide.  A quick glance with the otoscope told me that, yes, there was something wrong in there…  He has an ear infection and, once he realized that it wasn’t going to go away just because he wanted it to, J accepted a visit to the doctor.  We did have a bit of an argument.  It was more along the lines of “I want to help” SCREECH “listen to me” SCREECH LOUDER “will you listen to me??” SCREECH AND HOWL “come on, dude…sit here, and look at me” HOWL SCREECH BYEEEEEE until we ended up huffing and puffing in opposite directions to calm down.  There wasn’t, however, any SIB…and the anxiety that TGG (code name Kylo Ren…seems apropos, no?) causes him is being managed positively.

When we both came down from the argh moment we were having, and it was not easy because one party was dealing with worry and urgency while the other was sorting through anxiety and stubbornness, I explained that I wanted to help, and asked if he trusted me.  We called Dada and off we went.  A promise of a trip to the grocery store didn’t hurt, let me tell you…

We are home today, and he is happier than he was yesterday.  I know his ear still bothers him (I don’t know WHY this child has so much wax in his ears, or why this particular ear got infected,) but he knows the antibiotic will help.  That is enough for him.  He insisted on doing his elliptical (to the tune of The Sound of Music, a switch from Fiddler on the Roof…maybe because it’s Passover?  He wants to give Tevye a break?,) and he has been in a nice mood all day.  We worked on vocabulary, and we did some chores.  I’m sure we’ll work on a pending project after lunch…

There you have it: the kid is gaining weight because of the med, the parents feel guilty, I’ve learned not to try to move the immovable wall that is my son…

We’ll see about the med reduction.  Yesterday’s medical semi-crisis was a lot more manageable than I would have expected before we went back to the med.  I am sure that, stubbornness and anxiety notwithstanding, J can manage himself better, but it’s a subject for the doctor to ponder with us…

 

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