I swear, it’s like I have a Wheel of Debility that chooses a new way for me to be crippled at random intervals

Right now, it’s my upper right leg. Right down in the core of the largest muscle right behind the right leg. Right now putting weight on it hurts. Feel worse than a cramp but not as bad as an actual sprain.

To be honest, I would think it might actually be a sprain if it wasn’t for the fact that is disappears completely for days at a time.

And I am pretty sure a sprain can’t do that, unless I have some serious misapprehensions as to their fundamental nature.

And of course, this chose to struck right when it was time to receive my grocery delivery for the week without anyone around to help.

Ain’t life grand.

At least I have learned what it takes to get me to get my shiznit together and take some insulin – it’s our old pal the Demon Hunger.

Once I feel that frenzied hunger start to build up, I know I had better get my gear together and inject while I still have enough of my wits left to do so.

So basically, it needs to hurt. No big surprise there. If high blood sugar hurt as much as say a toothache, Type 2 diabetes would be wiped out overnight.

But it doesn’t hurt. Oh, it’s hurting me all right. It’s shredding my every vein, organ, and artery with its blood that’s thick like cold maple syrup as I type these very words.

But I don’t feel a thing. Subjectively speaking, I feel the same as always. Maybe if I managed to get my blood sugar down to normal and keep in there for a week or more, I might get a taste of the unsweetened life and grow to like it.

But probably not.

Other than pesky leg pain, today’s been okay.

Had a bad bit when I lay down to take a siesta and found that my nose and sinuses had filled with sinus fluid and if I laid down I would drown.

Eventually I figured out which end was up and what was going on, but for a little while there I had no idea WTF, and was worried I was going to end up with pneumonia again.

I mean, I’m not sure how I made it the first time. Thank God for Hospital Mode, I guess.

And I don’t even have a tablet this time. Bummer. There is definitely a hard limit as to how much reading I can do.

Oh well. Last time J&J offered to move my entire computer to my hospital room. I turned them down because I had the tablet.

This time, I would totally take them up on it.

As long as I have my precious computer, you can do whatever you want with the rest of me. I’m all yours.

More after the break.

Am I dying {{1}}

Sure feels that way sometimes.

After all, I am so weak, and so many things on me hurt. {{2}} I keep bouncing in an out of the ER, and worrying events like my near-drowning this morning and my attacks of transient facial paralysis seem to be beating some kind of drumbeat of death for me.

The natives are restless tonight. And fidgety.

[[2]] I keep going through this understandable but unhealthy cycle where I have been sitting for while and therefore my body is all rested and calmed down and I get to feeling like I am not doing too bad and I might actually be on the mend for a change.

Then I stand up, and seemingly age thirty years in three seconds. [[2]]

And I know that both my blood sugar and my blood pressure are so far out of whack that only the oldest amongst them have even heart of whack, and then, only in legend.

So the situation is not good at all. I am in a very sorry state (say, Nevada) and the sooner I find a way out of this quagmire (giggity) of mental and physical ailment, the better off I will be, and by “better off”, I mean “not dead or worse”.

But I am not dead yet. Neither is my fate cast in stone. I can still grab my occasional moments of clarity and motivation and do what I can to advance my cause.

I am eternally searching for a working solution that would let me get to where I want to go via the things I actually have on hand.

Most of the time all I can find is solutions that might well work for other people but are worse than useless because they get in the way of real solutions.

Anyhow, as cathartic as it can be to say I am dying, that is probably putting Descartes before Deshorses. I am not doing good but no need to pull the pin on the D-word yet.

My Dog, are the words coming hard today.

Still, even if I am not, in fact, dying, I could definitely be said to be in somewhat of a “pre death” mode of life.

And that needs to end.

And it’s not like I don’t know exactly what I should be doing. I always know. I am a smart guy. Knowing the right answer comes naturally to me.

But I don’t have what it takes to actually do it. I always fall short of actually ripping of the bandage once and for all.

So I suppose it isn’t the right answer after all. And I don’t know how to build up the strength in my spirit, resolve, or self-discipline.

But I know that at some point I need to become much

Been putting it off far too long. Time to grow the hell up.

Just as soon as I am strong enough.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

{{1}} Inquiring minds want to know!

Stay tuned for my new philosophical cooking show, My Dinner With Entrees.

↵

Then I stand up, and seemingly age thirty years in three seconds.↵

I swear, it’s like I have a Wheel of Debility that chooses a new way for me to be crippled at random intervals

Right now, it’s my upper right leg. Right down in the core of the largest muscle right behind the right leg. Right now putting weight on it hurts. Feel worse than a cramp but not as bad as an actual sprain.

To be honest, I would think it might actually be a sprain if it wasn’t for the fact that is disappears completely for days at a time.

And I am pretty sure a sprain can’t do that, unless I have some serious misapprehensions as to their fundamental nature.

And of course, this chose to struck right when it was time to receive my grocery delivery for the week without anyone around to help.

Ain’t life grand.

At least I have learned what it takes to get me to get my shiznit together and take some insulin – it’s our old pal the Demon Hunger.

Once I feel that frenzied hunger start to build up, I know I had better get my gear together and inject while I still have enough of my wits left to do so.

So basically, it needs to hurt. No big surprise there. If high blood sugar hurt as much as say a toothache, Type 2 diabetes would be wiped out overnight.

But it doesn’t hurt. Oh, it’s hurting me all right. It’s shredding my every vein, organ, and artery with its blood that’s thick like cold maple syrup as I type these very words.

But I don’t feel a thing. Subjectively speaking, I feel the same as always. Maybe if I managed to get my blood sugar down to normal and keep in there for a week or more, I might get a taste of the unsweetened life and grow to like it.

But probably not.

Other than pesky leg pain, today’s been okay.

Had a bad bit when I lay down to take a siesta and found that my nose and sinuses had filled with sinus fluid and if I laid down I would drown.

Eventually I figured out which end was up and what was going on, but for a little while there I had no idea WTF, and was worried I was going to end up with pneumonia again.

I mean, I’m not sure how I made it the first time. Thank God for Hospital Mode, I guess.

And I don’t even have a tablet this time. Bummer. There is definitely a hard limit as to how much reading I can do.

Oh well. Last time J&J offered to move my entire computer to my hospital room. I turned them down because I had the tablet.

This time, I would totally take them up on it.

As long as I have my precious computer, you can do whatever you want with the rest of me. I’m all yours.

More after the break.

Am I dying ^[1]

Sure feels that way sometimes.

After all, I am so weak, and so many things on me hurt. ^[2] I keep bouncing in an out of the ER, and worrying events like my near-drowning this morning and my attacks of transient facial paralysis seem to be beating some kind of drumbeat of death for me.

The natives are restless tonight. And fidgety.

And I know that both my blood sugar and my blood pressure are so far out of whack that only the oldest amongst them have even heart of whack, and then, only in legend.

So the situation is not good at all. I am in a very sorry state (say, Nevada) and the sooner I find a way out of this quagmire (giggity) of mental and physical ailment, the better off I will be, and by “better off”, I mean “not dead or worse”.

But I am not dead yet. Neither is my fate cast in stone. I can still grab my occasional moments of clarity and motivation and do what I can to advance my cause.

I am eternally searching for a working solution that would let me get to where I want to go via the things I actually have on hand.

Most of the time all I can find is solutions that might well work for other people but are worse than useless because they get in the way of real solutions.

Anyhow, as cathartic as it can be to say I am dying, that is probably putting Descartes before Deshorses. I am not doing good but no need to pull the pin on the D-word yet.

My Dog, are the words coming hard today.

Still, even if I am not, in fact, dying, I could definitely be said to be in somewhat of a “pre death” mode of life.

And that needs to end.

And it’s not like I don’t know exactly what I should be doing. I always know. I am a smart guy. Knowing the right answer comes naturally to me.

But I don’t have what it takes to actually do it. I always fall short of actually ripping of the bandage once and for all.

So I suppose it isn’t the right answer after all. And I don’t know how to build up the strength in my spirit, resolve, or self-discipline.

But I know that at some point I need to become much

Been putting it off far too long. Time to grow the hell up.

Just as soon as I am strong enough.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

^[1] Inquiring minds want to know!

Stay tuned for my new philosophical cooking show, My Dinner With Entrees.

↵