Can it be a HIPAA violation to be judgmental pricks?

Like many people (should), I take my health seriously.  I exercise regularly, I’m (mostly) mindful of what I eat, I try to get a consistent amount of sleep each night, I drink lots of water, and I avoid sick people whenever I can, my own family notwithstanding.

However with kids, that last part becomes nigh impossible, especially when we get into the cold and flu season, and despite the fact that I’m not a fan of coughing and sneezing right into my face, they’re my kids, and it goes without saying a lot of times, exposure to airborne illness is unavoidable.

I woke up the other day with a tickle in my throat, and my head feeling like a bowling ball.  It stung when I swallowed, which was consistent from the night before where I began to suspect that I might be coming down with something.  During this time of the year, and especially when my kids are sick, I rinse out my sinuses multiple times a day, which is something I swear by and something I attribute my general ability to avoid getting sick to, but with as much coughing and sneezing I’ve had done in my face, even rinsing 3-4 times a day has its limitations.

My general modus operandi when it comes to the onset of sickness, is to go to urgent care and start medications as soon as I can.  Getting in front of sicknesses has worked wonders in the past, and it’s what I do in order to minimize sick time and more importantly, be up and healthy so that I can care for my kids.

It’s what I did this past weekend, and after my initial vitals were taken, where everything was normal like my blood pressure, temperature, pulse, etc, even I began to wonder if I had jumped the gun too early.  Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who was thinking this, because the NP who had seen me, I could feel the judgment coming from her that I was in pretty good shape to be coming into urgent care, and probably triggering her internal flags that I was probably some medication-seeking junkie or something.

She told me that Mucinex DM would be sufficient at dealing with what I thought was going to be the illness coming, and that over-the-counter drugs should counteract my symptoms.  But probably because I had paid my co-pay and I suspect this clinic has some arrangement with whatever manufacturer produces Prednisolone, they gave me a script for that to deal with the cough, that was just only happening occasionally to me, but #1 sounds like a nightmare, and that’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen to me.

As I was leaving my appointment, I was handed my discharge papers, and I noticed that on the front of it was stapled this little addition that I hadn’t gotten before: Antibiotics Aren’t Always the Answer, which was basically this condescending little FAQ that seemed directed to people like me who had the audacity to come to a place called urgent care, for symptoms remotely nowhere near urgent.

Here’s the thing though, if there were a place I could go to get immediate medical consult, and not have to wait 4-6 fucking weeks, I would go there.  But because there is not, I go to a place where I can get immediate consult, even if it’s called urgent care and my symptoms are not urgent.  Such is the nature of American healthcare, where we’ve been pigeonholed into such limited options.

But I interpreted this note on my papers as the NP’s way of trying to give me a gentle reminder that my issues weren’t severe and that she probably thinks I’m a person chasing prescription medication.  And honestly, I don’t really appreciate it.

She doesn’t know my circumstances.  A lot of people I know don’t understand my circumstances.

I am the primary caregiver for my kids.  I’m the one person who can’t afford to be shelved due to bullshit sicknesses because the world can’t mask up or stay home when they’re not feeling well.  Sure, there are others who can fill in when it’s necessary, but if it’s under my control to optimize my recovery time and get in front of things to stop them from escalating to an addling illness, I’m going to fucking do them.

Nobody else wakes up at 6:40 every single day of the week to make sure breakfast is made and lunches are prepared for school.  Nobody else gets up in the middle of the night when one my kids has a nightmare and needs comfort.  I’m the one who goes to the school for the kids’ activities and I’m the one who takes the kids out to the park or for Friday ice cream, or most anything that requires physical presence.

Needless to say, I wasn’t pleased with the passive aggressive insinuation that I was seeking medical attention unnecessarily.  I paid my co-pay, and I had every right to be there.  Furthermore, at the time I went, I was the only person waiting on any sort of consultation, it’s not like it was a packed clinic full of ailing people that I was cockblocking from getting critical treatment.  If they didn’t feel I needed to be there, they would be more than welcome to let me know this, refund my copay and send me off, with me eating the cost in time.

I do what I do in order to be in as tip-top condition as I can, all the time, in order to be the best dad that I can be for my kids, because the last thing I want is to be the dad that’s always sick, seldom capable, and never present.  Even if it means hitting up urgent care at the first sign of sickness, I’m not going to wait until any shit to get full blown before I pull the trigger and have to wait for medications to kick in, when I can act first and be the one doing any kicking to any ailments.  I’m going to do this every single time, and hopefully with less judgment in the future.

Dad Brog (#141): Role reversal

There are times in which my kids bring home artwork they create in school, and in the case of #1, budding artistic talent is starting to emerge in the sense that she can now create with a relative objective in mind, and this is a family portrait that she drew, and I’ve been waiting her entire life for the day that she would create something like this.

I am going to frame it and cherish it forever.

But then there are all the other days in which my kids are absolute terrors, full of screaming, defiance, meltdowns, tantrums and more screaming, and sometimes I have to take a lot of deep breaths to try to not snap back at my children, and I ask mythical wife why we decided to have kids again?

In all fairness, most of the aggravating behavior is coming from #1 these days, and for as seemingly simple the supposed terrible twos were for us, it all seems to have held back until the age of four in this case.  I didn’t read enough dad literature to know if this is normal or not, but having a four and three-year old girls definitely has opened the door to its own unique set of challenges that I’m just guessing are a progression of time and growth.

The funny thing is, as much as #1 has become more obtuse about certain things, #2 has more or less reversed roles and become the chill one between the girls, and as often as #1 melts down, #2 is the one that’s usually cool as a cucumber in comparison and disposition.

Interestingly, and I should say unsurprising, a lot of this seems to stem from how much television we let the kids watch, as the vast majority of meltdowns typically start when it comes time to turn off the television and either take a break from screens, or get ready for bath time and bed, which has stretched even later, getting closer to 8 pm from 7, meaning I have even less time on a nightly basis to turn off dad mode and feel like a normal human being, that is when I’m not burning that time resetting the home every single night.

But when we don’t watch television, there’s no conflict over turning it off, and more often than not, certain triggers can be avoided.  But I’d be lying if that’s easier said than done, because sometimes, like when I need to prepare some meals for the kids, or just need a mental break for myself, an episode or two of a cartoon on Disney+ is just what I need in order to catch my breath, or buy time for something I need to do.

Either way, that’s parenting in a nutshell right now, and as I often stated, I don’t want Dad Brogs to only emerge when things are solely negative and I’m just looking for an outlet to vent since I don’t want to burden my actual human interactions to just spout off at how parenting is.

Things could be better, but they could also be worse; I love my kids the same every day, and for all the times they aggravate me with being kids, they also fill my heart’s bucket on a daily basis by just them being themselves, and occasionally bringing me touching artwork.

Dad Brog (#140): Disney Trip 2024

Being both passholders as well as Disney Vacation Club, it goes without saying that my family spends a good bit of time going to Disney World.  Personally, I’m pretty long past over most anything in regards to The Mouse, but my wife and kids still enjoy it a lot, and there’s not much I won’t do for them, especially when I have little idea what to do with my vacation time in the first place.

However, the big story of this last extended Disney trip was Hurricane Helene, which I didn’t even know was bubbling up in the Gulf of Mexico until two days into the trip, when suddenly everyone in person and on social media are talking about this megastorm that’s forming, and how it’s not only going to wreak havoc on Florida where we were, but appeared to have Atlanta firmly in its crosshairs, leading me to feel all sorts of anxiety about shit happening to my home while I wasn’t there.

Fortunately for us, the storm conditions didn’t really come into play until the last day of our trip, to which at that point we were pretty bushed and fairly content to spend more time at the resort than more time at the parks, and it didn’t really affect our trip.

In fact, other than watching some serious winds from the safety and comfort of our resort, not only did we avoid the storm in Florida, much to my relief, Helene kind of banked hard east, which we all know by now, really fucked the western parts of Appalachian North Carolina, but as far as Atlanta was concerned, really managed to avert disaster.

It was interesting driving back, because as we traversed from Orlando back to Georgia, there was plenty of evidence of the carnage that Helene brough, even as far central as I was coming from, with trees down all over the shoulders and sides of the road, and pretty much every billboard in the state was stripped and barren.  Piles of sawdust on the shoulders indicated where trees actually affected the highways themselves, and this was the case all the way up into Georgia, and right before getting to Macon, it all kind of stopped, and this was presumably where the storm banked hard east, and miraculously swerved past Atlanta.

Insert ironic joke about how not even category-4 storms don’t want to visit Atlanta.

As for the rest of the trip, I wouldn’t exactly call it a vacation; I knew this was most likely going to be the circumstances going into it.  It was a trip, and there was a tremendous amount of work involved, wrangling the little monsters of mine, who are bursting with excitement and curiosity and the want to run around and explore the vast World of Disney, and as is often times the case, the lion’s share of labor falls to me to do, and I don’t really get to have the same sense of vacation, relaxation, recuperation and entertainment as everyone else does.

There were really only two things that I wanted to do that would have been self-serving and when the trip was done, I didn’t get to do either of them.  Between kid wrangling, the time it takes to do absolutely anything at all, and the weather coming into play, there simply wasn’t any space for anything for me to happen, and the fact of the matter is that as much as I love my kids, if there’s any chance at all for me to not go completely sour on Disney World and the Disney brand, there have got to be some kid-free trips lined up in my future where I can actually relax, unwind and not be a dad for a fucking minute.

I kind of knew what had happened was going to happen, and that it really wasn’t going to be that much of a vacation for me personally.  But my kids and their safety always come first, and trying to keep them in a modicum of line is also high priority, and it’s often times frustrating when trying to stick to good habits while on the road is challenging, and even more so when I don’t really have anyone but myself to rely upon to handle the load of keeping an eye on my kids.

But the girls seemed to have a good time in spite of the weather and some of the challenges experienced while there.  They got to ride a lot of rides, eat a lot of junk food, spend some time with me at the pool, see a lot of characters, eat more snacks, and watch a whole lot of television at the resort and while in the car, so as long as they’re happy, I can take victory from that.

I just wish that I didn’t have to feel like I have to be the one who constantly has to sacrifice everything, because I already feel like I’ve sacrificed just about everything that makes me, me, and there’s really nothing left for me to sacrifice left, except for whatever it is that prevents me from being a complete husk of a living organism.

Dad Brog (#139): the days are getting longer

I realized that it’s been a while since I did a dad brog, and in spite of my insistence that they weren’t intended to be solely sounding boards for the gripes and complaints I have about the challenges of parenting, there’s no denying the fact that the vast majority of the 138 editions of Dad Brog before this one probably were.  Parenting is hard, yo, and anyone who says that it isn’t is either not as hands-on or present of a parent as I am or they’re rich and/or lazy and have others doing the parenting for them.

That being said, let this be a dad brog that isn’t going to be just one gigantic bitch-fest as much as it’s just catching up on the life of being the parent that I am, because as I’ve stated before, this series of posts doesn’t have to be nothing but complaints and gripes, because as hard as parenting is, there’s plenty to love about it as well.

There are lots of times in my life where I sometimes and just watch my kids being kids, and there’s still a sense of disbelief that one, I have kids, and two that I somehow ended up with two girls.  Some might find it hard to believe considering they’re four and three and therefore I’ve been doing this for a while now, but I don’t know, I’m not going to imagine that I’m the only parent out there that feels this when they look at their kids, no matter how old they are, and it’s during these little moments where I sometimes just smirk and chuckle at the combined absurdity and satisfaction that the existence of my own children bring to my life.

Both kids are in school five days a week now, as opposed to the three-day part-time school schedule they had the year before, mostly on account of the school no longer giving us the option for three-day anymore, so my wallet is definitely feeling the pinch and will continue to feel it for another year, before it gradually starts getting better when #1 begins elementary school and #2 the year afterward.

All the same though, as much as I bemoan the financial burden of private schooling, I feel that the results speak for themselves; my kids are both sharp and intelligent and bright, and I’m often awestruck at some of the things they say or demonstrate that makes me go wtf, at how much they’re developing.  #2 has demonstrated a really great memory, and she has routinely been whooping my ass at the variety of memory card games we play, at her ability to recall the positionings of matching cards.

Just the other day, I was being lazy and was dicking around on my phone a little bit while around my kids; #1 rushed off to the bathroom because she’s fully potty trained now and more often opting to use the actual bathroom instead of the children’s potty we have in the kitchen, while #2 is still working things out.  I started to get up to go help, and she immediately shut me down and told me, “keep looking at your phone, I’ll be okay,” and I was just left there with this flabbergasted look and feeling on my face, where I couldn’t be mad at basically getting shut down by a four-year old, but also low-key called out for being on my phone.

Needless to say, I put the phone away after that.

Staving off boredom is basically the name of the game for me as a parent now, and we’re at the stage where the kids don’t really want to play with toys or read books as much as they want to do physical activities like run around, play tag, hide-and-seek and just burn energy.  It’s frustrating when it’s nuclear summer outside still, and I have to be very mindful of letting my kids play outdoors at the peak parts of the sun and heat, and I’m very much looking forward to the full changing of seasons, to where I might be able to let them go outside and play more, so we can all get a win in that regard.

And inevitable as it is, the kids’ bedtime has begun stretching longer, which means that my window of non-dad downtime has been getting smaller, much to my dissatisfaction.  Whereas we used to have the kids up in the bath by 6:30, in bed by 7:00pm, we’ve been adding 30-40 minutes to the routine now, and by the time the kids are down in bed, it’s nearly 8:00pm if not past it a few minutes now.

Obviously, this was always going to inevitably happen, but it just means that my window of time in which I reset the house, tidy up, clean dishes, pack lunches and anything else, before I can really sit down and relax, is basically becoming non-existent.  I’m lucky to free by 9pm, and if I have any ambitious preparation for the following day, then 10pm more likely.

But it’s really not the end of the world, because I realize these days, I’m so stripped down of everything that used to make me, me, that when I have free time, I don’t know what to do with in the first place anymore.  And with so little time to do anything even if I could, I just don’t; as fatalistic and depressing as it might sound, I’ve gotten to the point where it’s just kind of acceptance and I’m not really mad or depressed about it, it’s just something that I hope that when one day when I inevitably do have more time, I might be able to reclaim some of the things that I’ve had to put on back burners or in storage while I focus on being a dad first and foremost.

My kids are always priority #1, and everything else is a distant second.  The best part is that with their increasing potty control, I’m growing more trust to take them out with me, even if it’s both kids and I, because they’re really not going to learn how to exist in the world if they don’t go out into it, and two-fold, it helps stave off the perils of evil boredom when I can have things planned for them to do with me.

Either way, as I had hoped, in some respects parenting will never be easy, but in many other respects, it really has gotten easier, as my kids have aged.  When I no longer have to worry about any pooping accidents or malicious wetting incidents, I will have even more trust at bringing my kids out more often to see the world around them, and even more will be easier when I don’t have to always be mindful of where the closest bathrooms always are.

Dad Brog (#138): About that “fake” global warming

I remember when I was a kid, outdoor play was as regular as going to school or a job; something you did on almost a daily basis.  Summer vacation saw tons of playing outside, I have tons of memories of exploring the woods, playing basketball, practicing rollerblading, and all sorts of things done solely outdoors.

Sure, the summertime would be hot, but we kids would pop outdoors without blinking an eye, and spend hours playing basketball, or just wandering aimlessly.  Personally, I don’t ever recollect putting on sunscreen at any time, and I’d go outside, do shit, and be content to come back home sweaty and relieved to be out of the heat, but otherwise not worrying about dehydration and excessive sun exposure.

The other day, I was at a parent orientation for my kids’ preschool, talking to the teachers about what to expect for the upcoming year, and a question that mythical wife had asked was if they adhered to the county protocol when it comes to heat advisory, to which they did, which was good to know, seeing as how often the temperatures here in Georgia are 95F+, which is that if the heat index exceeds a certain threshold, kids are not sent outside for recess.

Sure, there’s a knee-jerk reaction somewhere that wants to call everyone today soft and that they need to toughen up and get out in the sun and live a little, but the more rational part of my brain also understands and acknowledges the existence of global warming, and in spite of the dumbasses of the country who like to claim that it’s fake news, the fact of the matter is that every summer seems like it gets to become the hottest one ever, and we’re getting to the point where the act of going outside in the summertime comes with actual health risks involved.

My kids have gotten to the point where their general love of books, puzzles and board games has been diminishing a little bit, and they really want to be active and do physical activities, like playing tag, hide-and-seek and just plain run around and expend the gas tanks worth of energy that kids this young are in disposal of.  I want to be able to oblige them, and it kills me that I have to always be cognizant of the heat index conditions, and over the last few weeks of this summer, it’s either been torrential downpour or temperatures well in excess of 95F, with the heat index being even higher.

And I keep them inside, because they’re not old enough to be mindful of dehydration and exertion in the sun and heat yet, and I’ve seen them be affected by lesser temperatures, so I don’t want to subject them to the risk, just because they’re a little bored and antsy.  It’s like the outdoors, as beautifully sunny and picturesque it can be sometimes, is like an episode of Dual Survival or that mission in Mass Effect 2, where you had to rescue Tali from the planet that was too close to a sun, where excessive exposure to the sun would erode your shields and health.

The point of this post is that I just think it really sucks that I have to err on side of caution with my kids and taking them outdoors, because global warming is a very real fucking thing and the planet isn’t just hotter than it was 30 years ago, it’s gotten to the point where everyone has to exercise a ton of caution, preparation and basically gearing up, just to go outside.  It’s obnoxious and bothersome when dumbasses like to proclaim their opinion that it’s not a real thing, because there’s monumental amounts of evidence that says that it is.

As much as I’d love for my kids to have the kind of childhood that had the type and amount of outdoor play as mine did, I just don’t think it’s going to be possible, at least without elevating their risks of physical harm, dehydration and skin cancer risks.  It’s not fair to the kids of tomorrow to have to deal with the consequences of the generations long before them, and it makes me anxious and disappointed that I’m going to have to basically wait until like October before it’s going to be really comfortable and adequate to play outside with my kids.

Dad Brog (#137): I’ve been waiting their entire lives for this

My kids made me bracelets for the first time.

There are randomly colored beads, pink, blue, green, yellow, white, red, green.  Some smiley faces, some flowers, an octopus, some eyeball-looking beads.  Some stars, a moon, and some random letters.

And they’re my favorite things in the entire world now, and short of showers and exercise, I’m seldom going to not be wearing them.

Even before I had kids, whenever I’d see a guy wearing some bracelet or some accessory that was clearly made by their children, I always thought it was sweet, and I admired their sense of security at not being embarrassed or afraid to wear their children’s creations, and I knew that those were the kinds of dads that I wanted to be more like rather than some stuffy stooge of a dad that doesn’t move the needle of what it takes to be a modern, supportive and loving father in this day and age.  Few things irk me as when I see content insinuating dads are distant deadbeats and have no connection to their kids, but at the same time I understand how that narrative came to be, and why it’s still in such prevalence.

All I really want in my life is to be the type of dad who breaks that sad mold, and be the type of dad that people can look at and talk about as being someone who loves the hell out of their children, is unafraid and apologetic about show affection and doing corny things like wearing princess apparel or colorful bracelets and other handmade jewelry.

Over the last few years, watching my kids grow and seeing their interests come and go, ebb and flow, I’ve always been waiting for the time in which they might, in some of their budding arts and crafts explorations, be in a position to make me a bracelet or a necklace, or some other accessory. 

That day has finally come, in which a mini bead and bracelet set was provided to them, and I came home to find that they had each made me a bracelet, and I couldn’t have been more over the moon to put them on and wear them with pride and love for my perfect kids.

And much like them, they are my treasures.

Dad Brog (#136): even bad behavior can be lovable

Sometimes when I come home from an office day, as soon as I come inside the door, my kids go running off mischievously like little shits.  It makes me smile and laugh all the same when they’re playful and being little shits together, and I don’t think anything of it.

The other day, I came home from the office, and as I walked in the door, I saw #2 run down the hallway, clearly following #1 in the day’s edition of hide from dada when he gets home.

And then I turn the corner and I see the marker marks on the wall. Then on the bathroom door, and then on the light switches and various surfaces. My jaw dropped at the incredulousness of them actually having drawn on the walls, as if I figured it was just some trope from a paint ad or something and that my kids wouldn’t actually do it themselves.

Naturally, mythical wife and I were pretty upset with this bad choice, and tried to calmly as possible explain to the girls that what they did was wrong, and why we were making them help clean the marks off of the surfaces they drew on.  Dessert and evening television were both taken off the table for the night, and they seemed to understand that they had made a poor choice.

The thing is, the following day, I was thinking about the whole incident but then I found myself smiling and chuckling about it, because of how the girls were working together and having fun together, and I really couldn’t feel that made about it.  The squeals of fun and laughter when I walked in the door is music to my ears, and even if they had vandalized walls in their own home, they did so in the name of having fun together, and I just couldn’t be upset with them any longer.

I know that there will come a time when such sounds and behaviors won’t be happening any more, and it’ll make me sad to come to the realization that my kids are too old and grown past such playfulness.  So even if it means that they’re making bad choices and doing a little bit of destruction of property, I don’t think it’s the end of the world if they’re doing it together, having fun, and learning afterward that their behavior was not acceptable in a calm and rational response.