Today is a rest day... as is tomorrow, but that's only because Mr. Darcy is out of town as of this evening and won't be back until late Saturday and I had to take Angelfish for her bloodwork this morning. If I get a chance today, I'm going to try to make it to the LA Fitness and swim the workout I missed on Monday.
I mentioned that I had to take Angelfish for her bloodwork. Yep. Lovely genetics that I have. At her 3 year check up, the doctor asked if there was any history of heart disease in the family. I think I may have actually laughed out loud. As I like to joke with my friends who are also of Polish descent, the first question you ask someone you find out is Polish is "where is your family from in Poland?" The 2nd question? "Who's your cardiologist?"
You would think that being an American my genetics would have been diluted by now. Grammy is 100% Polish and so is Dad, although both were born in the US, but then there's my Mom who is a full-blooded American mutt whose ancestors have been here since the Mayflower. Seriously. And Mr. Darcy whose family is so "American" they couldn't tell you where there from, other than they discovered that they were enough Cherokee Indian that Mr. Darcy could have gotten a scholarship if they had known before college and grad school instead of after.
But, no. After pulling myself out of my cardiology mirth at the pediatrician's, I answered yes and explained that we have a history of the chromosomal defect version of familial hypercholesterolemia. The doctor immediately sent Ladybug and Angelfish to the lab they have in the pediatrician's office for a finger prick test. Ladybug, who looks just like Mr. Darcy with a sprinkling of me, had beautiful blood work. No high cholesterol and everything else they ran was the definition of perfection. Angelfish, who looks like me with a smattering of Mr. Darcy (and the addition of red hair) and who you cannot deny comes from my Polish side of the family (it's spooky how much she can look like my father at times), had lovely everything except her cholesterol was high.
These children eat the same food, but are fraternal twins. For the science lover in me, this is like a super cool science experiment. The problem is that the Mommy in me wants to cry because it looks like I gave her some stinky gene. So at my cardiologist appointment a few weeks later, I asked about it. He told me it could either be genetics or it could be that she had high good cholesterol which sometimes occurs in children and is nothing to worry about. I, of course, took from this that I should definitely sign the girls up for soccer would be to start developing their cardiovascular systems as a defense against the possibilty of bad genetics. Funny what my take away is sometimes.
The pediatrician wanted to re-test in 2 months. So today, 2 months to the day, Angelfish and I went for her bloodwork. I explained to her on 2 different occasions what would happen so she wouldn't be as shocked by them taking her blood. Problem is, I think it hurts her a lot worse than it hurts me. She was great in the waiting room, though. We read books and talked and laughed. When they sent us back to the back to wait for our turn, she got quiet and snuggled in. When it was our turn, she wanted to see everything. I tried to get her to sing songs. I tried to get her to read Go, Dog, Go! which is one of her favorites. Nope. She wanted to see everything that was going on. She watched the phlembotomists get everything out, and she even looked straight at the needle... and then she whimpered.
Angelfish does not whimper. Ladybug, a different storoy. Angelfish has had stitches and staples in her scalp from her adventures, and never did she whimper, let alone cry. I knew it was going to be bad when I heard that whimper. I covered her eyes as they brought the needle in and told her it was going to be okay. The phlebotomist said that it would be a little mosquito. Too bad her little vein rolled and they had to move the needle in her arm just a little. She was crying, loudly, in pain. She begged for them to "take it out of me, please. I don't want it!" And I had to hold her tight, telling her she needed to be still and that she was going to be okay and that she'd definitely get a lollipop when it is over (and we know how I don't like giving these kids lollipops). I had to say a little prayer for strength so I didn't cry with her and so I could stay calm. It probably only took 3 minutes but it felt like an eternity. I feel for all those moms out there whose little ones have to go through chemo and much worse. I was a jelly fish (inside) after 3 minutes.
The second they were done Angelfish stopped crying. They gave her a lollipop and she tore into it (but remembered to put the wrapper in the trash can). I asked her if she was okay and she told me, "I want to go." So we left. In the car on the way to daycare (I felt like an evil mother sending her child to daycare after such trama), I asked her if she was doing okay. Angelfish replied: "I am not okay. That hurted and it was not fun." All I could think was that genetics really stink and that I'd really like her blood work to show perfectly okay cholesterol levels for a 3 year old. I mean, what are they going to do anyway, put her on kiddie crestor? I don't know that I'd go for that. Medicine like that for a 3 year old must have other developmental concerns. Fat is needed for brain development and growth and nerves and all that.
We'll find out next week, I imagine. But I can tell you I'm glad it's a rest day because my mind was nowhere near the 70.3 this morning. It was all I could do to keep the wolverine that Mr. Darcy says lurks beneath my surface when things deal with my children. The problem is, who would the wolverine get? Me or the phlebotomist? I'm the reason she's there, the phlebotomist just took her blood.
When I left Angelfish at daycare, she was happy. She wanted to keep her cotton ball and green polka dotted bandaid on... her little badge of courage... and it was playground time. I just hope she forgives me! As for me, I know I'll work it all out during my 55/8 brick on Sunday (or in the pool if I can get there today). Triathlon training always clears the cobwebs.