What can I say, I am feeling meta.
Did my follow up appointment with Doctor Vaezi today. No big deal, just a few of the usual tests then a quick chat and examination with him,
He seems quite pleased with his work, which is good news for both of us. Apparently it was a very large, hard cataract, which is rare in someone as young as me.
That’s further proof that being super fat produces what I am calling “late onset progeria”, which makes us fat people start aging super fast when we hit the age of 45 or so.
So…. that kinda sucks,
One thing I didn’t mention about yesterday’s surgery was how embarrassed I was when they took my blood sugar and it was 32.
Reminder : normal is 7. 7. Single digit. SEVEN.
I felt like such a fool and a slob at that. The nurses almost canceled the surgery because my blood sugar was so high.
Clearly that shit has got to stop. No wonder I am so unhealthy lately, my blood must be the consistency of cold maple syrup.
So I am at the very least going to take a whack of insulin soon.
But the real issue is testing. And I can’t see my way to conventional testing any time soon. My last experience was of stabbing my fingers over and over again only to have the goddamned meter return error after error, and for now that means fuck that shit.
Not a rational response. A sane person would just keep trying long enough to figure out what was going wrong and get it working right and, you know, save their own lives.
But I am not a sane person. I’m a crazy person, and crazy people do crazy things for crazy reasons that make no sense even to themselves.
And I think it’s high time I stop pretending that I am a rational adult who is fully in charge of himself and own the fact that I am a goddamned lunatic doomed to do crazy shit that hurts me until it either kills me or I get better.
Every single thing I do has to pass through the chaotic committee that is my insanity first, and they are by definition unreasonable, and so doing even normal harmless things involves a protracted struggle.
It’s like dealing with a cranky toddler. With veto power.
So yeah, I plan on shooting up some insulin later and hopefully it will make me feel better as well as returning my blood to a more normal viscosity.
But realistically, I am not going to start lancing my fingertips again any time soon. Instead, I am going bite the bullet and buy that OneTouch Ultra Libre Turbo Professional Productivity Executive Deluxe thingamabob,.
The one where it can take readings without the need to draw blood at all. Yeah, it’s expensive – the system costs around $400 and the sensor units have to be replaced every two weeks because they get “full” (yeah right) and that’s going to be like $150 a month forever, and that’s a drag, man.
But on the other hand, I might not die before I am 50 if I use it, and I guess that’s worth the extra hassle and expense.
You know. All things taken into consideration. In the long run. Probably.
More after the break.
And back again
Time for feeding and blogging again. No idea what the talk about. You’re all caught up on my medical stuff.
Here’s a radical notion : I will check my idea file.
What the fuck, it’s worth a shot.
Meh. Plenty of story ideas but I am too tired for fiction at the moment. My usual personal prose will have to do.
Took some insulin this afternoon. And I do feel somewhat better. So that’s good.
I suppose I could deal with the lack of testing by simply guessing that I will need a certain amount of insulin a day and taking that.
That’s so unscientific, though. And I would always be worrying that it would send me into a blood sugar crash.
Because that’s a real possibility when you are messing with your endocrine system, even if you are doing it for your own good.
It’s a delicate machine when you are diabetic.
Still, I can’t deny that I feel a lot better now. Calmer. More settled. Cleaner. Cleaner in a way that’d hard to describe but means one hell of a lot to me on both a physical and a spiritual level. Especially the spiritual.
It is entirely possible that high blood sugar plays a large role in my constant malaise.
The same malaise that is a big part of why I don’t take care of myself because I am too depressed to do things like take my insulin.
I see a pattern forming. Do you?
I will take my insulin more often in the future.
Speaking of taking my medicine, I found out today that 2 of the 3 eyedrops I am taking are supposed to be taken 4 times a day, not 1.
Dunno why I assumed the frequency for one applied to the other two. Wishful thinking, in all likelihood.
Well I guess I will be busy for the next while.
Speaking of failing to keep my eye protected, I lost the goddamned shield I am supposed to wear when I sleep.;
Must have fallen through the hole in my pocket. Now I don’t know what the fuck to do. I am going to have to call Doctor Vaezi’s office tomorrow and beg for a new one, which I will then have to go to the office to collect.
That’s okay because I lost my hat, too, and it’s probably there as well.
I try so very hard to get things right and yet I fuck up on a near-constant basis anyhow.
I am clearly not competent to take care of myself but it’s not like there is anyway else to do the job so I am fucked.
Left to the tender mercies of a well meaning but utterly incompetent caretaker.
I guess I will just keep stumbling through life until I am sick enough to be institutionalized and then someone competent can care for me.
I honestly see no other path forward for me.
Sad but true.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.