Guess I better talk this shit out.
For a while,I was comforting myself with the idea that, due to my radical cutback on carb intake, I was at least not getting any new lesions on my legs.
But that was bullshit. I have heat rash on the back of my right leg. And little stripes of what amounts to first degree burn in other places.
So the best I can say is that I slowed it down.
And this should not come as a surprise. I have hot spots all over my body. Areas where I feel a diffuse burning sensation in the muscle and that feel hot to the touch.
Areas that could burn from the inside at any moment, I suppose.
And I find myself thinking back to my last trip to the ER, and how that prick of an ER doctor that was so eager to get rid of me so he could treat someone worthwhile mentioned that my bloodwork showed that I had a high lactic acid level.
But he then downplayed it like it was no big deal, probably nothing, I should probably just go home and treat my diabetes better in the future or whatever.
And I agreed to this. Things were happening too fast for me to form a defense, and my default reaction is to cooperate and agree, especially with authority figures.
After all, it’s how my parents raised me.
But now I am wondering if I am the victim of medical malpractice. High lactic acid in the blood seems like a pretty serious thing.
That and, you know, having big wounds all over my legs. That’s definitely not normal.
I’ve looked it up and one of the main causes of lactic acid buildup in the muscles is cellular metabolism occurring with insufficient oxygen present,
Well given that I am sleep apnea’s bitch and smother in my sleep a lot, that sounds like a highly plausible explanation.
However, another cause is poorly controlled diabetes.
And I haven’t tested in weeks. I never recovered from getting all those errors when I tried. Depression makes me easily discouraged, and the fact that persisting would not just be smart but might save me from a lot of pain and possibly even death is not nearly enough to overcome that.
I will try to get back to that. No promises.
So now what? I doubt my GP is taking patients in person yet. And I still can’t see what good he can do me when he can’t even look at the wounds on my legs.
Maybe he does Zoom now. I will look into it.
The other option would be to go back to the ER. If so, this time I will be going in a-bristle with defensiveness and skepticism, ready to assert my right to be treated like a human being and not some kind of unpleasant animal and to actually get the same level of medical treatment I would get if I was skinny and attractive.
Might get me in trouble, but I would rather they think I was a raging arsehole than get treated like rogue cattle again.
More after the break.
I am still super mad about TicTacs having sugar in them. Being, in fact, mostly sugar.
Clearly I am not going to get over this any time soon.
The only sugar free mints at 7-11 are Mentos Now mints, which are designed to only last a short time because apparently a regular mint is just too much of a commitment.
Or is that “commitMINT”?
No. No it is not.
Well I want mints that last a while.What I like about mints and really all hard candy is that it gives me a long term flow of pleasant flavour and thus is an excellent oral fix.
And I needs me my oral fix.
So those Mentos Now pieces of crap are worse than useless to me. All they do is tease me and leave me wanting more.
So clearly, if I want my mint fix, I am going to have to order it online.
Curse you, TicTacs!
That Mediterranean style
Playing first a game set in Revolution era France (Assassin’s Creed Unity) and then a game set in Medici era Italy (Assassin’s Creed 2) has got me thinking about ways to go about life that are different than my own tightass Anglo upbringing.
Specifically, it makes me wonder what it would be like to be part of a culture where people are far freer to express their emotions openly and without shame.
British-derived Anglo Canadian culture is all about self control,. not making a scene. keeping your emotions bottled up, and maintaining a sort of emotional commons free of anything that might upset us.
Well fuck that. It’s becoming increasingly clear to me that I am a passionate person who needs to express himself fully in order to be happy, and my giant personality does not fit in that polite little box any more
In fact, it never really did.
And it’s occurred to me that one way to look at the Mediterranean way of life is to see it as a lifestyle that priorities being yourself to your fullest over being well behaved, polite, and respectably dull.
The Italians in particular seem to have the knack for taking in life in big deep gulps then blasting it back out into the world like a dragon breathing fire.
And sure, to us placid Anglo types, this can seem like madness straight from Hell. People having loud screaming arguments in public. People weeping openly and without shame at a funeral. Boisterous parties. Tumultuous politics. Dramatic romance.
That all seems like pandemonium to us. But I am beginning to see the genius (or at least, the balance) of it all.
Because sure, they may have less peace and quiet, but they also have a lot less repressed emotion, and I think that might just be the healthier way to live.
It certainly beats cowering in a cage, afraid of everything.
I could never go all the way Mediterranean. I am a peace loving person. And at this point, I am too firmly Anglo to change.
But it’s a direction worth exploring as I try to figure out how to be myself.
It’s harder than you’d think.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.