Please Don’t Pity Her

4 Comments February 17, 2015 drworobec

My little girl, who is two years old for only two more weeks, is one of the strongest people I know. She has taught me so much in so little time, and her lessons continue to surprise me.

She’s the kid who faceplants and gets back up with her toddler-speak, “I okay.” She’s not scared of needles or dark rooms or strangers. She’s tough. Please don’t pity her.

If you’ve been following my blog, you’ll know that last Spring she was diagnosed with amblyopia, an eye disorder that causes decreased vision in an eye that otherwise appears normal. In fact, when we brought her to the optometrist last April, the vision in her left eye was only 20/80. Did I suspect a vision deficit? Nope, not at all. In fact, the only reason I got her eyes checked is because we were already there for her brother’s appointment and we had the time. So, here’s my PSA: Get your children’s eyes checked annually. OHIP funds yearly eye exams for people under 20 years of age.

Along with her considerable lens prescription, we also have to patch her strong right eye three hours every day to force the weaker left eye to work harder. This past October, after only six months of glasses and patching, my determined little firecracker had improved to 20/30 vision. Her body is responding and she’s progressing just as we’d hoped. But we will have to continue to use occlusion patching for the foreseeable future; you see, as malleable and flexible as children’s brain and nerve development are, they can also regress. I’m told we have until age seven to make gains with her vision, since the improvement of her particular deficit ceases after that point. Early detection is key. We need to keep our foot on the gas and our eye on the prize for another four or five years.

When we first learned about all of this, I worried about the ‘differences’ it would create for her. I worried about the looks she’d get and the teasing she’d endure. And then I remembered who I was dealing with: the kid who sticks up for herself and has a heart of gold. She’ll be fine. She is fine.

Her patch is just a part of her childhood, a part of who she is at this point in her toddler life. We ordered some ‘fun’ patches for her, complete with glitter and animals and bright colours. Every morning she gets to choose a patch that suits her mood. Most often, it’s puppies or bunnies or anything sparkly. Just like her, sparkly.

Don’t feel sorry for her, feel proud of her. Please don’t pity her.

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A Jar Full of Rocks. Oh, and Garth Brooks.

2 Comments January 13, 2015 drworobec

Remember the story of the philosophy professor who filled a jar with rocks and asked his students if it was full? Then he added pebbles, and the students again agreed it was full. Then he added sand, and the sand filled the empty spaces, and the jar truly became full (you can read the extended story here if you don’t know what I’m talking about). The professor was using the jar and its contents as a symbol of life and priorities- the rocks signify the ‘big stuff’ like health and family, the pebbles signify the ‘medium stuff’ like work and school, and the sand signifies the ‘small stuff’ like material possessions. If you put the sand into the jar first you will have no room for anything else.

Let’s use that to segue into how I view my children: they’re like little beautiful jars just waiting to be filled up. And it’s my job to fill them up.

I didn’t always feel this way. In fact, probably barely a decade ago, I wondered if I’d ever have children, if I would ever want to have children. I thought the maternal instinct had bypassed me, and I was all-consumed in myself and building my future. Then I became a mother and the sand dumped out of the jar to make room for the rocks.

So I’ve very carefully set up my life geared towards this goal. My kids are little scrapbooks that I’m filling up with memories. They’re the empty canvas and I’m the artist painting the brushstrokes of the masterpieces they will become. I’m get-out-there-and-DO-it instead of get-out-there-and-BUY-it, presence more than presents, quality above quantity.

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Why the mush and gush today? Well, it’s all Garth Brooks’ fault.

You see, I’ve got tickets to his March 7th show, and the country girl in me has been out in full force. Even if you’re not a country music fan or a Garth Brooks fan (gasp!), have a listen to this song (click here to hear ‘Mom’) and I think you’ll feel the emotion too.

“Cause there’s someone down there waiting whose only goal in life is making sure you’re always gonna be alright”.

True.

A Moving Story about Moving Bowels

Leave a comment December 23, 2014 drworobec

December 23rd.

You might be thinking that I’m going to post a blog about Christmas. And in years past, you’d be right (‘Merry Christmas‘, ‘I’ll be Home for Christmas‘). But I received some great news yesterday and I’m going to write about that. I’ll even call it a Christmas miracle, in keeping with the festive spirit.

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This is a story about my newest 3-year-old patient, let’s call him M. M is a happy, feisty, curious little boy who brings a storm of energy with him wherever he goes. On his first visit, M’s mom explained to me that he had an anal fissure at 18 months of age, making subsequent bowel movements very painful. As is often the case with young children, M then became scared to move his bowels, and has suffered with extreme constipation ever since. M’s mother has tried everything; from medication to diet changes to supplements and more, with no success. Little M has been battling severe constipation, impacted stool, and obvious discomfort for nearly two years. She brought M to see me as a last resort.

A wonderful whirlwind of movement and inquisition, M built towers, rode on the hydraulic table, and played with the desk bell and the hand weights, all while being assessed and treated. Interesting, fun, and quick- that’s my m.o. when I work with children.

I saw M again yesterday, two visits later. Guess what? He had three large bowel movements over the weekend. Three! None in the more than 18 months prior, and he had three this weekend.

Now, if you’re a parent reading this, you will understand that talking about bowel movements is perfectly normal conversation. In fact, if you’re a parent of young children, I challenge you to not talk about bowel movements for the next 24 hours. Seemingly impossible. And for me, as a mother, a blogger, and a chiropractor who works with children, not talking about M’s bowel movements is most definitely impossible.

I’m an evidence-based practitioner. I love research, I love science, I love proof. But I love powerful outcomes like this the most.