Oh yeah. I haven’t actually written this down yet. Time to fix that.

For the record, I am feeling a lot better than I was last Friday. In fact, by Saturday afternoon, I was more or less fine.

Well, as fine as I ever get, anyhow.

By Saturday afternoon, I had returned to my baseline level of pain and misery.

Honestly, I figure my immune system fought off whatever was making me feel so crappy last Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.

Nice to know that it can, indeed, win sometimes. With how often I end up with some kind of weird infection or another, I had started to doubt. ^[1]

Oh well. My latest a1c was 7.3, which is spot on perfect. So thank you, Jardiance. Taking you has made me effectively non-diabetic.

Not to the point where I can go back to eating Coffee Crisps, but still.

Geez, even the thought of eating something sweet like that makes me shudder internally and break out in a greasy sweat.

Glad to know I am not really in danger of a relapse. I know that no matter how good, say, a glazed old-fashioned cake donut would taste for a few seconds, I would immediately feel much worse and for a lot longer than a few seconds.

It just wouldn’t make any sense. The hedonic equation yields a starkly negative result.

That means it’s a dumb idea.

Makes me wish our oven worked properly, though. If it did, I could go back to baking tasty treats with Splenda for myself.

I’d only have to bake like one or maybe two desserts a week and that way the friendly folks at Voortman’s would stop getting my sugar free dessert money.

I mean, I love their sugar free fudge striped cookies. Eating two of those at the end of my midnight snack is a highlight of my day.

But if I could bake again, I could have cake.

Let me repeat that : I COULD HAVE CAKE

Maybe I could get that oven fixed somehow.

Anyhow, where was I? Oh right, the medical update.

I had that follow up appointment with Doctor Chao today. Told him I was feeling better. He told me about my a1C being perfect and my vitamin B12 levels being smack dab in the middle of the healthy range too.

And that’s a relief. Maybe my body will get better at fixing itself now. Fingers crossed.

After all, if my B12 and a1c are both normal, my immune system should be too.

The bad news was that for some reason, my urine cultures still haven’t come back. And he does not know why. He even double checked that he actually put them on the lab requisition, and yup, he did.

So if he doesn’t get them by the end of today, he’ll get his receptionist to call up LifeLabs and ask them WTF is going on.

I like to imagine that the holdup is that my urine is so amazing that they keep testing it over and over to make absolutely sure they are seeing what they think they are seeing.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Mister Bertrand, so I will just come right out and say it : your pee cures cancer. You are about to be a very wealthy man. ”

What? It could happen!

More after the break.

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The brat party

In my lifetime, I have seen the conservatives of the political sphere devolve from the nervous nellies and old fogies that were the flaming wreckage of the anti-counterculture backlash into the incoherent gang of wild-eyed rabid dogs on the hunt for the next victim of their ever-growing hunger for blood and destruction we know and love today.

And I am a little ashamed of the fact that until Trump came along, I didn’t pay much attention to this phenomenon other than to, in my sardonic way, applaud it.

After all, I’m not a conservative, I’m an (occasionally reluctant) liberal, so having the right wing became a hooting, hollering lynch mob just meant that the forces of good would find it that much easier to win, right?

Wrong. Turns out that something like half the voters are in that lynch mob and they recruit more every day by appealing to the absolute worst in the average voter.

Appealing, in fact, to their inner brat.

That’s what the modern right wing has become : the brat party. And once you pick up on this trend, so much of modern right wing rhetoric starts to make sense.

So much of it is really only saying things like, “You can’t make me do that! You’re not the boss of me! I don’t wanna do it and I shouldn’t have to do it! You try to make me do that and I will take a shit in the Capitol! Waaaaaaaah!”

It’s become the party of toddler temper tantrums, and that makes Donald Trump the PERFECT leader for them because he has clearly regressed to the cranky toddler stage himself, if he ever truly made it out of it. ^[2]

And the truly tragic thing is that this is happening all over the world. As the Baby Boomers succumb to senescence and senility, their increasingly narrow and stupid minds are reverting to their “second childhood” and, as usual, they are dragging the rest of the world with them by sheer force of numbers.

That’s why the world is so crazy now. It’s in the hands of cranky toddlers. And it will continue to be that way for some time now.

But eventually, the Boomers will be gone. And there will be a great flourishing of society as all the resources that were tied up in keeping them alive are freed up, and all the jobs they selfishly hogged to themselves will need to be filled creating the mother of all seller’s markets for labour, and there shall be peace and decency uoon the land.

Now I don’t want anyone’s individual parents to die. Not your parents and not mine either. Individually, I hope they all live for a good long time.

But as a generation, they can go straight to hell.

And the sooner, the better.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.