A Girl Named Steve

Steve Doesn't Live Here Anymore

2010-12-06T21:35:00.002-06:00

Hello, readers! I just wanted to let you know that I've moved my blogging efforts to a new site.

Come visit me there, if you like!

http://songstobreakmyfall.wordpress.com/

Also, I don't know why I am in italics. I did not ask for this.

I Guess I Only Blog When I'm Mad

2010-09-05T19:21:00.002-05:00

I'm giving up on being healthy, being diabetic, being functional. I'm giving up on trying to convince myself that I deserve to want better things for myself. I'm giving up on trying to drive across town without having to pull over and puke on the side of the road. I'm giving up on having goals, being social, and eating right. I'm giving up on communicating my anger in a productive manner.

(Don't worry, it will pass. It always passes.)

But right now, I am sick. I feel alone, and angry, and my whole functional world view that I worked so hard to build feels like it's falling down around me.

(It's not.)

But right now, I am convinced that I see my building blocks of confidence, purpose, happiness, discipline falling down, piece by piece. Fuck my recent diabetes control success, it means nothing now. I drove across town this morning with the intention of putting this sickness on hold and meeting my cousins for brunch. I got lost, which isn't unusual, so I pulled over and asked for directions. I got back on the right road and started to feel the world spinning. I pulled over again, opened the car door, and hurled onto a busy street. I had to tell my cousins I couldn't make brunch, and drive myself home. I was so angry, disappointed, and defeated that I started to cry. I tested my blood sugar and it was 441.

Fuck it.

I've been getting sick all week, but haven't paid any attention to it because work was so busy that I knew I couldn't miss any of it. I guess I thought I could keep going and do some things that I really wanted to do with whatever strategy kept me going to work. But there's always a breaking point.

I got home this morning, and was alone in the house. I felt alone and defeated by life. I felt nauseated and dehydrated and snotty, but I couldn't stop. So I cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, and did some laundry. The husband came home and regarded me from a distance for a while before suggesting I sit down. So I did, for about 5 minutes before I had to get up again. If I stop, it wins.

And if it wins, I'm useless. Worthless.

(I'm not.)

I just have to cancel more plans I was looking forward to. And I hate that. I hate a lot of things right now.

(It will pass.)

Ventilation

2010-06-21T17:49:00.003-05:00

I realized that I have an issue that has been bugging me for a long time, and I haven't ever defined it for myself. I've dealt with some pretty needy and emotional (and rude and self-absorbed) people all day today, and I handled it all smashingly well. However, all of the emotional need has helped bring this issue to the surface, and I'm about to let it all go.

When my grandmother started getting really sick early this year, and we still planned to get married in October, my now-husband and I decided, at my request, to move our wedding up to April in hopes that my grandmother would be able to be with us on that day. Well, though our hearts were in the right place, things didn't work out the way we hoped they would. When my grandmother was still on her death bed, (not yet passed, but not doing well) my parents began to petition us to change our wedding back to October, or at least to move it back, since Granny wouldn't be able to be there anyway. I told them, first of all, Granny is still alive, secondly, we understand that she may not be in a condition to join us if she is still alive, and thirdly, no, we don't want to change our wedding plans again.

They didn't say much, but little did I know, the campaign had just begun. It was about 2 weeks before our wedding, my grandmother was still alive, and they were acting like she had already died. Everyone was emotional, whatever, I let it go. But then my mom approached me again, saying that she really thought it would be best for everyone if we moved our wedding date later, in light of everything that was happening with my grandma. I told her, respectfully, that I realize that we wouldn't have wanted to plan the 2 major life events to happen at the same time, but it is our wedding, the plans are all made, and we are going to keep it set the way we have it.

That wasn't okay with her. She told me that it was asking a little too much of everyone, in their time of grief, to have to turn around and attend a wedding. I said, okay, well, I'm sorry to have to put you guys out with our happiness, but The Man's entire out of town family has dropped everything to be able to attend the wedding, and there's no way we're making them drop everything again to change plans again. Plus, I said, it is our wedding, and this is what we want to do, so it's not really up for discussion. You have our answer.

That pissed everyone right off. My parents even pulled The Man aside, apart from me and without my knowledge, and tried to get him to talk me into changing our plans. He said no. We thought they would let it drop there. And my grandmother was still alive.

I got a call from my mother a few days later, and she told me how incredibly inconsiderate I was being of everyone who was trying to grieve, and making them come to our wedding and try to be happy so soon after losing their mother/aunt/friend/etc. I said, well it's our day, and that's what's happening. She told me that it's not all about me, and I should think about everyone else.

I'd just like to say now that your wedding day is the one day where you DON'T have to think about anyone else but you and your future spouse. At that time, it was getting very difficult for me to put that distance of understanding of their irrational emotional reaction to me. I told her, look, we're not forcing anyone to do anything. We're not asking people to do anything they're not able to do. And I told her, mom, if it's too hard for you to be there and be happy for us, then you don't have to come.

My grandmother passed away at the end of the week. The funeral was lovely, and no one mentioned our wedding. I didn't expect them to, we were all there to honor my grandmother. But as soon as the funeral was over, one aunt stopped talking to me completely, another one sent me an e-mail saying that she couldn't come to the wedding because she was too sad, and my mom continued to let me know that she was appalled that I wouldn't change our wedding date.

My mom did come to my wedding, and she had a wonderful time. The pastor honored my grandmother's life in our ceremony, and I know that she was there with us on that day, even if her body wasn't. It was a wonderful, happy day.

The aunt that sent me that e-mail is the source of my sustained buggery. She said that she wouldn't be able to make it, but she's thinking about us, and hopes we have a great day. That's fine. I very respectfully said that we understand that it is a difficult time for our family, and if you can't make it, you can't make it. But what is bugging me is that I haven't heard one word from my aunt since the wedding. No no card, no gift, no e-mail, no words via my mom, who she talks to frequently.

Apparently she's still pretty pissed. I just don't get it.

I lost my grandmother too. I still miss her. I'm not trying to deny or minimize anyone's grief, but shit! Send your niece a fucking card if you miss her wedding day. Or at least mean the words you say to her. It feels like by saying, "Have a great wedding" she was really saying, "Have a nice life." That bugs me. I don't feel like I'll ever talk to my other aunt either, the one who stopped talking to me after I said that I wasn't changing my wedding date. Of my three aunts, I have one who called me on the phone to tell me how sorry she was that she wouldn't be able to fly back (3 states away), and said how much she wished she could be there, and she loves me, and is so happy for me, and she even sent a gift. I honestly believe she was happy for me. I honestly believe that my other aunt is pretty angry with me.

The Man and I made it through all that, though. We made a stand for our new family, and we came out on top. Maybe some day my family will be able to let go of our anger.

Absentee Summary

2010-06-01T18:28:00.002-05:00

In the past 3 days I have: biked roughly 20 miles, danced several hip-hop routines in my living room, not blogged worth a damn, held a baby, been to a new restaurant, not had a blood sugar reading over 170, rarely had a blood sugar reading in the double digits, was a hermit, was a social butterfly, was physically social and simultaneously brain dead, been housewifeish, and last, but not least, I have not started my period and am wondering if I am pregnant.

Yeah. That's not exactly something that we have in our plans right now. I might not be, I have no confirmation other than things not happening in alignment with the calendar, and the fact that this is the last thing we feel ready for right now, so it's probably happening. Now is when we all play the waiting game and try to think about it too much.

In other news, I've mapped out a safe route to ride my bike to work, I've done a few practice runs, and tomorrow morning I'll be making my first actual bike ride to work. We'll see how it feels to ride to work, work 12 hours, then ride home...in the summer heat. It's only 3 miles or so each way, and I'm hoping that it won't be too hot yet at 6:30am. Just in case, I packed sponge bathing utensils so I can hose myself off in the bathroom sink when I get there. I'd hate to be offensively sweaty when I deal with clients for 12 hours.

Okay, I'm heading to bed early tonight in preparation for my new lifestyle, and I'm going to do some serious menstruation meditation.

Fribitch

2010-05-21T20:22:00.004-05:00

I've been bitchy all day, a side effect of a missed medication dose and a very exhausting work week. I've said things that were catty, snarky, and uncalled for, without regard for how my comments might be received.

I have never fit in better with the people I work with.

Now I am home, happier than I have words for that it is Friday, and that I can rest tonight and sleep in tomorrow! I have worked hard this week, at work and in other ways. I will welcome a lack of schedule for the next 24 hours or so.

My blood sugars have been awesome. The highest I saw was 156, and that was horrifying. I'm seeing sugars in the 60's as good now instead of brink-of-crisis bad. I mean, sure I'll test 20-30 minutes after seeing the 60's just to make sure it's not on its way down, but my fasting level hovers around 90, and I see most of my between-meal levels in the 70's. I feel like a person again. I'm not longer some insane irresponsible rebel who [still does the right things but] has uncontrollably high blood sugars all the time. Now I'm just awesome.

I have a practice bike trip from my apartment to my work in store for this weekend, as well as a bike ride-slash-picnic with The Husband and some pals on Sunday. I am excited. I have the energy to be excited. I have no social anxiety surrounding these plans. I am pale and need to be in the sun.

So many reasons to celebrate tonight.

Two, Three, One

2010-05-19T19:05:00.003-05:00

The work day was hard, but for the first time in a long time, I am able to walk away from it with a clear head and energy leftover. I worked really hard today, and I feel satisfied rather than wrung out. That's pretty good considering the boss is out of town, two people called in sick, and the fill-in boss met me at the office door at 7:01am to tell me how the whole world might end soon if we don't all work harder than we've ever worked in our entire lives and DEAR GOD could I please teach her how to work the coffee maker!?

Things really weren't as bad as all that. She was stressing us out more than the things she was telling us were going to stress us out. Fortunately, she had to leave at 11am, and after that the day went more productively.

I've put in a call to a friend's partner, who does hair, to ask him if he would be willing to do something crazy to my hair. My current hair lady, though I love her, is conservative and disapproving of crazy things. I know she just wants to protect me from doing something I will regret/get fired for, but I'm done with being cautious. The way I see it, as long as I can still put my hair in a ponytail for work, it will look normal enough. The hair is step 2, the tattoo is step 3, for financial reasons.

Step 1, lest you think I can't count, is a 90 day work out program that The Husband and I have committed to doing. Enough sitting at home watching my stomach get larger and wishing I had the energy to do something about it. I'm going to find the energy. I took "before" pictures tonight. I had to wear a bathing suit and put all my flubbery junk out in the open, and I'm going to take progress pictures once a week.

My blood sugars have been freakishly normal for the past week, and I haven't allowed myself to celebrate because I don't want to jinx it. They have actually gotten markedly easier to control since I lowered the medication dose. Now I want to research studies on how the medication affects diabetes. I could be in a study like that. That's fascinating and terrifying. And creepy. But the most important part is that the blood sugars are staying under control.

I'm pretty excited about that, even though it's all about to go to shit when I start the workouts. More adjustments, more changes, more low blood sugars, more orange juice consumption. It's ok. It's all for the greater good.

I'm going to shower and go to bed early tonight in hopes that this energy-left-over thing is going to become a trend. I will post updates once we start the workouts. And maybe, if I grow enough courage, I will post my progress photos as I go. Maybe.

Nothing to See Here, Interesting Things Coming Again Someday

2010-05-18T16:06:00.003-05:00

Yes, I know my post yesterday was half-assed. I really only had half an ass to work with, but I don't think that is a good excuse. I want blogging to be a good theraputic tool for me, like I know it can be, but sometimes I don't know how much to put out there.

I had a big issue weighing on me, but it wasn't really something I wanted to post about on the internet. Most of the (two or three) people who read this blog know who I am, but even so, as much as writing may help me figure things out, there are some things that are not easy for me to discuss in any forum.

I think the medication changes have had a huge effect on me, though I see a lot of progress in adjusting to the new dose. I'm still not out of the woods yet, but things are getting better. I had a panic attack in the middle of the night last night, and I haven't had one of those in a long time. I couldn't breathe, I broke out in cold sweats, and sobbed uncontrollably for about 30 minutes. Today I feel like I'm in recovery; like I've been dragged behind a bus for a few miles and need to compose myself and treat the road rash. I feel better now, in a way. Clearer somehow.

Something needs to happen. Something like purple hair, or a new tattoo, or something.

Girl Anachronism

2010-05-17T19:30:00.002-05:00

I played the song "Girl Anachronism," by the Dresden Dolls, in my car earlier today, and I realized that that is what it sounds like in my head all the time. The muzak version is the background noise in the elevator of my life. Sometimes I can tune it out, sometimes it tunes me out. I think that's why I avoid very quiet situations, because then I'm left with nothing to distract me from the incessant minor sevenths!

I am so tired. It's been a long day.

Post, Check

2010-05-15T21:52:00.002-05:00

I spent a Saturday in bed. It was a Saturday after a week full of sickness, vertigo, irritable bowels, husbandless nights, sexual confusion, work drama, dogs, cats, ducks, hyperglycemia, hypoglycemia, sleep, fever, feversleep, isolation, rain, compassion, family, depression, and anxiety. I've spend a few waking hours on the couch solving crossword puzzles, but otherwise I've been drawn with magnetic force to the safe cocoon of my bed.

I'm headed back there in a few minutes, but first, I wanted to enter text into the Blogger field of my commitment to blog for the greater good. The medication withdrawal symptoms are already starting to disappear, which greatly helps my outlook on life. However, I also feel like I'm carrying a lot of weight around inside my head. Just now I accidentally typed the word "heart" instead of "head," and I almost didn't correct it. My heart is heavy too.

Sometimes we are powerless to fix anything, so we just keep living until the solutions offer themselves up. So now I am going to go to bed and wait for solutions.

Vertigoaway

2010-05-14T19:53:00.003-05:00

I just realized that I'm a big fan of combining groups of words into a single nonword, then making it the title of my blog post. It's a trend I plan to keep up.

Anyway, the medication withdrawal symptoms are plaguing me still. The worst part is the vertigo. I feel like I'm on an elevator 80% of the time, even when I'm sitting completely still on solid ground. Every time I turn my head suddenly, I feel like I'm going to fall over, and there is a constant high pitched ringing coming from somewhere inside my brain. Another strange and unexpected symptom is chronic low blood sugar. I feel like I am constantly eating, and every time I test, my blood sugar is dropping again. I've read that it is a rare but documented side effect of this medication.

It all makes me feel crazy.

The worst part about it is that, despite the mental stability the medication helps me achieve, I absolutely hate being chemically addicted to a medication. I think it's horrifying that a medication can so severely alter my brain in such a short time, and in so many strange ways. It's also making my brain tell me I have to poop every 30 minutes or so, which is not something I care to further discuss in a public forum.

Yes, I have a clinical depression and anxiety disorder, and yes, life is more balanced and productive when I am on medication. But at the same time I am taking the pills, I am hating what they do to me. I hate the muted thoughts and limited spectrum of feelings. I hate the very thought that I need a brain-altering synthetic chemical to help me get through the day. I hate that I am actually addicted to them and can't safely stop at any time. It is a commitment of self-care that I made a long time ago (after a LOT of fighting), and I understand and accept (intellectually) the terms of my agreement. Brain chemistry, much like Life, is a very delicate balance, and things change constantly. I (intellectually) accept that we can live better through chemistry, and I do (genuinely) want to live better.

In my heart, I am still fighting every step of the way. If you ever catch me blindly popping whatever pills someone has promised will cure me, it means I have given up and my soul has started to die. Until then, I will be noisy, argumentative, impatient, and antipathetic in my patient compliance. That is something we'll all just have to live with.

Now I just have to figure out how to get off this damn elevator.

Made Room

2010-05-12T19:47:00.002-05:00

I think my last (sad bastard) post made some room in my consciousness for some more positive thoughts to shine through. Hence the recommendation of writing as a therapy tool.

I'm also in therapy again. The kind where you sit on a couch (There are chairs too, but I prefer the couch. It makes me feel less significant, and it gives me more room to spread out my thoughts.) (Also the art on the wall opposite the couch is more interesting than the art opposite the chairs.) I haven't been to see a counselor in about 3 years, not for lack of want or need, but mostly for lack of health insurance and moneys. I went back last week and talked myself into lots of little circles. I'm really good at that. If you think I'm not, take a look at some old blog posts.

I've also gotten one of my medication dosages adjusted. I HATE this medication. Hate. HATE. (I don't like it.) It's an antidepressant, and I've been taking this particular one for several years. Lately I've felt foggy and drugged, in an emotional void. Yes, it controls mood swings and anxiety...by making me feel nothing at all. My interest in things I normally like has all but disappeared, buried deep in the fog somewhere. I would like to wean completely off this medication and try something different, but my dr is hesitant to do so. I have a history of becoming very unstable when I'm not taking this medication, so I understand his hesitation. (The only reason I'm not writing the name of the medication is that I don't want to show up in someone's random google search for med info.) (It starts with an E)

When I told him that I was concerned about taking this medication during a future pregnancy, he responded by saying, "Well then we'll stop it. I mean you'll be bat shit crazy while you're pregnant anyway, so we might not even notice a difference."

He's really irritating sometimes.

Today was my first day on my new, lower dose. I may be feeling a slight difference now that it is later in the day, but I think I might still be on the sick-coaster of mental activity. I know it will take some time to feel a change.

I still wish I didn't have to take anything.

But that's something for me to talk to the therapist about. Finding some way to stop wishing it away, if that's possible. It seems that I accomplish less by just being mad all the time. It's the weirdest thing.

Sick Ramble

2010-05-12T13:13:00.003-05:00

I missed a few days of posting, but at least I came back sooner than I used to. At least I came back, period.

I've been sick since Saturday with some kind of virus that acts like the flu. My nose is a faucet, I have fever, everything hurts, and I sleep for 30 hours at a time. I went back to work today, but only made it through the first half before I wimped out and asked to go home. I'm sprawled on the couch indefinitely, covered in dogs.

I don't feel like a person anymore. I'm pissed off at my body and its lack of proper functioning. I realize that I am fairly well justified in being angry, but my problem is that I currently can't move beyond the anger. I take care of myself because I have to, but I am feeling overwhelmed by all aspects of my health care. Not overwhelmed in an anxious way, just overwhelmed in a "well, it sucks and it will never ever ever change" kind of way. And it pisses me off.

There is no productive way to want things or plan things for my future, or even my present, when I can't count on my health from day to day. So I'm feeling burdened, and I'm having a hard time locating my motivation to change.

I went to work this morning, and I hated having to ask to leave early. It feels like admitting defeat rather than proactively taking care of myself. I hate telling all my coworkers that they have to, again, pick up the slack left in my absence. I'm sure I'm much harder on myself than any of them are on me, even behind my back, but that still doesn't make me feel any better.

I'm going to go rest my confused and stressed body, and try it all again tomorrow.

Second Day in a Row...

2010-05-06T18:45:00.005-05:00

This evening I have one goal: to go to bed early.

I have to put my husband to bed early since he has a sinus infection, a fever, and he has to get up around 4:30am to take our friends to the airport. Since I'll be giving him lots of drugs and making him go to bed early, and I have used up all of my productive energy, brain power, and ability to speak English for the day, I figured I'd go ahead and put myself to bed early too. The blinding headache is not doing a whole lot for my motivation either.

Work is getting very stressful, even more so than normal. We are a five doctor clinic, we had one of those doctors move to Ohio, and one more finishing his residency in two weeks. So we will have two full time doctors and one new, green, resident seeing five doctors worth of patients. That means about twice as many appointments in a regular day, which means twice as many opportunities for things to get really really complicated. We do well. We technicians kick serious ass, and work well together under pressure. We have a lot of reasons to be very proud of our hard work. I just wish all of it left me with more energy at the end of the day.

I get sick of spending all of my non-work hours rationing my energy and making sure I get enough rest so I don't burn out or get sick. All of life is a balancing act, I realize this. I have to factor in management of a chronic disease, a full time fast-paced job, a new marriage, and every day demands like bills and such. I have a special needs life, and I'm having trouble learning how to take care of myself.

I have this dream of working part time because I want to, not because it is vitally necessary to survival. In my dream I work part time, I still have medical insurance, I have time to take care of myself and my husband, and I don't end each day feeling like a survived a 10 hour boot camp. What a lovely dream that is. So lovely, in fact, that I'm going to shut the computer down, lie down in my bed, and see if I can find it again somewhere behind my eyelids.

Shenanigwednesday

2010-05-05T19:32:00.005-05:00

Ok, so I am going to give the daily writing thing a whirl again. I am out of the habit of writing, and because I don't do it, it seems daunting. So, I'm going to try to overcome that fear and/or emotional block by simply doing it.

AHEM

Today was a day where absolutely nothing worked the way it was supposed to. Simple tasks took forever to finish, equipment broke down, computers froze at the worst possible moments, patients came in for one problem and we found seven new problems, a teeny tiny dog got its face eaten off by a neighbor dog, and the neighbor refused to take responsibility or pay for treatment, and the owners didn't have enough money to pay for surgery that the dog needed...

It was a day that calls for a run on sentence or two.

I spent an entire morning with 2 of my coworkers performing a series of retina tests on groups of patients that come in weekly. It's a series of very routine procedures, and it normally takes about an hour to complete. We got all the equipment set up efficiently, all the patients processed, checked in, and prepped in a timely fashion, started the testing on time... and then everything just turned into a runny pile of poo. The first dog kept putting his third eyelids up and ejecting the contact lenses from his eyes. Then we solved that problem, and the electrodes fell off of him. Then we solved that problem, and the computer froze. Then we solved that problem, and we hit the button NEXT TO the "save" button, and had to start all over. Take that process and repeat it for 4 patients.

We laughed hysterically to keep from crying. By the time we were finishing with the last patient, all 3 of the previous ones were waking up from their sedation and were howling. Like plaintive, 3 part harmony, I-want-my-mommy wailing, and they played off of each other. Each one got the next one going, which got the next one going, etc. Pretty soon I just started wailing with them. We had been in that dark room for 4 hours completing a process that normally takes 1, and we used up all the good-humor we had. My other 2 coworkers took their cue from me, and before long there were 8 living beings howling in a small dark room. Some of us were drugged, some of us only wished we were.

On the plus side of this morning's shenanigans, I performed my very first ocular ultrasound. I've been watching others do it for a year, and I finally got to do it myself. It was pretty cool.

I got my lunch break, then headed back to work for Shenanigans Part 2. Things went along a bit more smoothly in the second part of the day. Though, I may only be saying this because we were so busy that I didn't get to sit down, pee, breathe, or stop talking all afternoon. On the plus side of that, the afternoon went by very quickly.

I'm off to try and find my brain now. I think I left it in my bed. On my pillow. Under the covers...

Dr. Dread

2010-04-20T11:56:00.004-05:00

I hate going to the doctor. Granted, no one really LIKES going to see the doctor, except for some of our patients, but that's just because they know they get treats after we finish poking their eyes. (I'm telling you, bribery with cookies would work for adult human patients. It would improve patient compliance, I'm telling you.) I specifically hate going to my routine endocrinologist, aka diabetes doctor appointments.

I had an appointment this morning, and I was dreading it. I didn't only dread the direct and concentrated dose of my own mortality that comes with these visits, and I didn't only dread the thoughts of everything I could be do better to keep myself healthy. I dreaded the visit because recently I have completely lost control of this disease and I have NO idea what to do about it. I have plans to get my A1c under 6 so we can think about pregnancy. I have plans to change my diet and exercise and get off of my antidepressant medication. I want to lose 20 pounds. And I was working toward those goals and making progress...until I got married, my grandmother got sick and died, and my husband lost his job. And my blood sugars rarely ever dipped below 200 no matter what I did.

(Yeah, all those things happened. I know, I haven't updated this thing in a while)

So I went to the doctor completely unprepared, didn't have blood sugar records, didn't have a plan, didn't have complete diabetes-related thoughts, other than "I DON'T WANT IT ANYMORE, WHERE DO I GO TO GIVE IT BACK?" But hey, at least I showered before the appointment.

I just told her how I came to lose complete control of my health over the past month. I told her that I can't control the things that happen in life, but I NEED to be able to keep some kind of control over my health. There will always be something in life. That's just how it goes. But diabetes doesn't wait for me to be in a better position to deal with it. I have to figure out how to deal with it no matter what.

I don't know how to do that.

But after talking to her, I have a starting point. Actually, I gave myself a starting point when I worked for 4 years to be able to get medical insurance, then I found a dr and started going periodically. I did that. And I have to figure out how to do the rest too. She's a valuable tool in the process, and I need to let her help me.

It helps that I kind of like her as a person too. She thinks her receptionist is crazy, just like I do (The receptionist really is nuts. I had my book Go Down Together in my lap, and she saw it and said, "Hmph. Sounds like the United States of America!"
I said, "It's a biography of Bonnie and Clyde..."
She said, "Yeah, well it's not funny, and it sounds like The United States of America with this Obama guy in charge..." She must have seen on my face what was going through my head, because after that she left the room.) Another reason I like my dr is that she is from Mexico and has a unique perspective on American healthcare (that was my diplomatic way of saying that), which she never hesitates to point out, and she actually believes all the things she says. She doesn't just do her job, she lives her job. She's not diabetic, but she will help you see why it's important for her patients to take care of themselves.

At one point we were talking about raising kids (she doesn't have kids, and she doesn't believe people should...) and I told her that I was ready for my kids to hate me for a lot of their childhoods when I won't let them have a cell phone when they're 6, or I won't give them a car when they're 16 unless they buy it themselves, or I make them leave their iPod at home when we go have dinner at their grandparents' house. I told her (I was really on a roll, for some reason) that I will teach my children to stand up for themselves, and to ask questions, and to question things that don't make sense, and not let anyone talk down to them...in general they will be seen as punks. And I will be proud.

She told me a story about how one day she was sitting in a waiting room a woman was letting her 4 year old child run around unchecked. She asked the mother to make her child sit down, and the mother said no. She said she doesn't discipline her child because she wants to protect her from all negativity. My dr snorted in disgust and said she asked the woman what she wanted her daughter to be when she grew up. The woman responded, "Happy!"

My dr said, in her Mexican accent, "I tell her, 'Look, lady, your daughter sounds just like a rabbit. A rabbit does 3 things: eats, shits, and reproduces. Is that really what you want for your child?'" Apparently the woman was horrified. But I sincerely believe that my dr said this, and I hope the woman took it to heart.

As far as my health issues are concerned, she recommended that I see a counselor to help with the feelings of losing control. She suggested writing as a helpful tool, too. Imagine that. Writing as a therapy tool...if only I had a place where I could do that on a regular basis...

Anyway, I survived the appointment, and am back to busting my already bruised ass to get these blood sugars back under control. Somehow, I'll get there.

Ophthalmologists' Priorities

2010-03-18T17:53:00.002-05:00

So, I work in an animal clinic that specializes in eyeballs. That means that I spend less time with any part of the animal anatomy that does not involve eyeballs than I have in the past 5 years of being a veterinary technician. Our doctors have gone through years of extra schooling for the purpose of working on only eyeballs and eyeball-related tribulations.

That's why I was so puzzled when today, as I sat at the computer working, one of the doctors sticks his head out of an exam room and asks, "Hey, do we have any enema sets?"

"Ummm, are you having some personal issues?" I asked in return.

I was met with a humorless stare as he said, "No. But this cat hasn't pooped in like a week."

I said, "You know you're an ophthalmologist, right?"

He said, "Yeah, you're right, I guess I should send him to his regular vet." Then his head went back into the exam room and that was that. Maybe when you go to vet school for too long you forget which end of the animal you're supposed to focus on. I mean, I appreciate his wanting to help the poor clogged cat, but I don't have time to be giving enemas when there's a dog in the next room who needs his eyeball sewn back into his head! It's all about priorities.

Memorial for a Low Maintenance Woman

2010-03-14T18:46:00.001-05:00

In my heart, I am a cheap date. A woman of few needs. I'm entertained by the simple things in life. I don't need money to make me happy. I can go with the flow and don't generally need to have things "just so." Material possessions are not essential to my self worth. I am, any way you say it, a low-maintenance woman.

In my heart.

But then there's this whole world outside my heart where I have these persistent needs and goals that demand my attention, and often make me change my and others' well-laid plans. That's life, that thing that happens when we're busy making other plans, right? For example, we were planning a big wedding in October with all of our family and friends, with a big but simple and modest celebration. Then my grandma became ill with a terminal illness and probably won't be around in October. Since I've always really wanted her at my wedding, we decided to move the wedding up to April and make it a very small core-group celebration with a bigger reception in August.

Then, in the midst of planning this small, simple, yet somehow still overwhelmingly detailed wedding, wondering how we will still pay bills and make ends meet on top of it all, my husband-to-be loses his job. Okay, so now we have only one income. Wait. What? How does this work?

Oh, and by the way, my health still sucks.

I woke up today in the middle of a moderately intense anxiety attack, which started somewhere around the realization that weddings are supposed to have flowers in them, and I had no idea how to make flowers happen. Then everything from wedding plans to finances to superfluous belly fat snowballed around me, and I was hyperventilating. I mean, when you have an anxiety attack that starts before you even wake up, it's not good. So I got out of bed and started cleaning things.

By the time I got done scrubbing the shower grout with a toothbrush, I was feeling better. I also got to talk a lot of thins out with my future mother-in-law, who is being extremely generous in helping us plan what we want for our wedding. Then, on the way home from lunch, I bought a pair of jeans that actually fit me. I'm feeling more peace now.

I'm actually making a lot of progress in the big to-do list that encompasses daily life (refilling prescriptions, groceries, meal planning, bill paying), wedding plans, and health goals (getting my A1c down, lifestyle changes leading up to the future day when we decide to have nerdlets, meal planning). I'm starting to feel like I've made some progress, and that helps with the constant overwhelming feeling I've had lately.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to wake up at 5am to get a workout in before work. I have to be at work at 7am every day, that's the best, and possibly only time to work out and make it consistent. That also means going to bed at 9pm every night, like the old woman I also am in my heart. But it's for the greater good. I'm going to power through it, and possibly even tone up a bit before the wedding. We'll see how this goes!

I'm Cranky

2010-02-25T19:12:00.016-06:00

I am cranky and hormonal. (but not pregnant...it's the other thing...so stop the rumor mill right there). Working with females all day is often exhausting. So many feelings, always getting hurt for so many invisible reasons. I often wonder how men put up with us. Then again, I often wonder how we put up with men, so I guess it all evens out.

I'm getting married in just over a month. I am very excited and happy, and I am also getting fatter. I've stressed myself out over wedding plans, and I've gotten caught up in wanting to look absolutely perfect on my wedding day...which just reminds me that I'm not perfect. Imagine that. I think about working out every day, pushing myself so that I can lose that extra bit of weight before the wedding, and then I don't do it, probably because on top of planning a wedding I have a stressful and demanding full time job, and a stressful and demanding chronic disease that makes losing weight an uphill battle on my best day, and then I give up before I even try and I just hide in my room and eat ice cream. And I don't have the energy to care that the last sentence is not structurally correct!

I want to change that inner message from "I give up," or "I failed" to "I like myself just the way I am," or "I am happy and that's what matters." I don't want to put my body through weight loss for the wrong reasons. It's too much pressure, trying to be perfect. I may still want to punch every skinny woman I see, and I may not be able to button any of my current pants, but my fat ass will still marry the man I love in one month, and I will be happy with all my heart.

I will also continue to eat whatever I want, despite the constant noisy disapproval from the well-intentioned humans around me who like to constantly tell me that I'm going to die. I need you to go ahead and shut up about my food choices, Judgey Judgersons, and mind your own damn business. Unless, of course, you'd also like me to scrutinize some of your less-than-ideal life choices and comment on the horrible things that could happen to you if you keep smoking/drinking/eating fast food for every meal/getting sick but refusing to the doctor/giving out Xanax like it's candy/not voting/wearing shoes with improper arch support/sitting in a booth full of cancer-inducing radiation to get yourself closer to some tanned image of perfection that you'll never achieve...

Doesn't sound like something you want to deal with from me, or anyone, every day? I didn't think so. That's why I keep my mouth shut, and I suggest you do the same. So in case you are still shocked that I don't care what you think, or you want to tell me that you nag because you care, I'll tell you now in no unclear terms: you're not helping. I say this because I care, for one of these days I may punch you.

I am very cranky.

What a Bizarre Friday

2010-01-22T18:23:00.007-06:00

Fridays at my job are usually the most chaotic and stress-inducing days of the week. Clients and doctors want their pets seen before a busy weekend, clients forget that they've been running low on their pets' medications since Tuesday but don't remember to call until Friday afternoon, and referring doctors wait until 30 minutes before the clinic closes to refer their emergency cases. Also, because all of that is going on in addition to our usual packed patient schedule, Fridays are the days that the surgical complications will happen, the angry and hostile clients will show their true colors, or creepy stalkers show up to the office and we have to call the police.

The last one is not a routine occurrence, but it did happen today. In the afternoon, a skinny kid who was sweating a lot and shaking with apparent nervousness came to the office and told one of our receptionists that he needed to see one of our technicians. He said he didn't know her name, but he had a picture of her. He pulled out his cell phone and showed the receptionist a photo of his computer screen with the picture of the tech (whom I'll call Diane) from our company website.

Creepy.

The receptionist said that Diane was with a client, but would he like to leave a message? He said no, it was a private matter and he needed to speak to her in person. The receptionist asked his name, and he said [John], then turned around and walked out. Then he sat in his car in the parking lot for a little too long for comfort.

Who the hell does that? Creepy.

When the receptionist told Diane what happened, she said that she didn't know anyone named [John], and she didn't know anyone who fit the description of the nervous mystery guest. The situation, and the nervous guy's presentation was just creepy enough to make us call the cops. Another one of our techs smartly got a picture of the guy's license plate with his phone, and we were able to give it and an accurate description to the cops, who came up to the clinic about 1o minutes later. (They may have shown up sooner, but one of the receptionists found them wandering around, lost, in the downstairs hallways and had to bring them up to talk to Diane.) They got the story, we got the camera surveillance footage of the guy, they ran the license plate of the car, but by the time the cops arrived, his car was gone from the parking lot. The police said they would be in touch, and to call them if he came back to the office. They advised her to have someone she trusted stay at home with her for the night, and to be very alert walking through the parking lot.

We also discussed the possibility of someone with a few screws loose upstairs making a seemingly psychotic but innocent attempt at hitting on Diane, or trying to ask her out. I stand firm in my assertion that even if it was innocent, that is NOT an acceptable way to behave. It obviously makes you seem like a serial killer who scours veterinarian's websites and chooses technicians from the employee page to stalk at their workplace.

The cops left, and Diane was still visibly shaken when we received a phone call from one of our doctors who had left work several hours prior to any of this happening. She said that she knew who the stalker guy was. She said it was the son of one of her clients, whose poodle we had treated for cataracts several months back. Sure enough, we looked up the client in our computer, and the client's address matched the one found when the cops ran the license plate number on the stalker's car. The doctor had called the client, who confirmed that her son thought Diane was pretty, and had indeed come up to the clinic with the intent of asking her out on a date.

We then collectively said, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

First of all, I don't know how the doctor who called us and told us who the guy was knew that any of this had happened in the first place. There are some details I'm missing there. Second of all, we haven't seen this client in months, so I don't know how, when she found out what happened at the clinic, she immediately knew to call that client and ask if that was her son. It's possible that she remembers the son, and she remembered him being a little creepy. It's possible that she even noticed him being creepy toward Diane during the course of their visit. I have no idea, but there must also be details there that I'm missing. Thirdly, we found this guy before the police did. I'm just sayin'. And finally, this kid's mother knew what this kid did, and she let him do it. Granted, he's an adult (according to the law), and parents are not (legally) responsible for their grown children's actions anymore (even if they still live at home). But this is a guy who has a very limited set of social skills to begin with, and encouraging him to act on an inappropriate crush in a very inappropriate way is damaging and irresponsible. I may not have all the details of the story, but I do know that this kid intended to ask someone out on a date, and got the cops called on him for doing so.

Creepy.

Diane called her boyfriend to come pick her up since she was so shaken by the whole thing, and when he got there he immediately complained that he had to sit in traffic for an hour because she called him during rush hour. I almost walked over and punched him. If there hadn't been another tech standing next to me, reading on my face how I felt about him and grabbing my arm to get me to walk away, I may have done it. He is an asshole, and there are a lot of reasons why he better hope that he never has to be alone in a room with me. But that's another story for another tirade. Me punching a guy would have just been the perfect ending to a bizarre and drama filled Friday afternoon at work.

I am so happy to be home, and I am so happy that it is the weekend. I'm glad I'm feeling well enough to work again, but my emotional capacity to separate myself from daily drama is still in the process of mending. So in short, my brain is frazzled, but a potentially horrifying situation turned out to be just a poorly executed plea for companionship. I hope it stays just that harmless.

I Have to Post Something!

2010-01-20T07:57:00.002-06:00

Things that have happened since I fell of the face of the blog:

I had a birthday

I got engaged! The Man proposed on my birthday, and we're planning on getting married in October.

I got sick.

I got better.

I got sick. Again.

The Man got a book deal!

The bottom fell out of Haiti.

My grandma went into the hospital.

I made a vow to start blogging daily again. I did really well for a while there.

This whole sickness thing has really taken away a large part of my conscious thought. It's like living in a fog with lead running through my veins. I don't know how else to describe it. This past weekend, possibly thanks to my rush of happy with the engagement, I felt much much better, like at 100% again, went to work, everything was fine, then I was body slammed by some stomach bug. I spent 32 hours curled on the bathmat in front of the toilet, and afraid of anything that had to be swallowed.

Also, this Haiti crisis is breaking my heart. I can't understand how a country who has nothing still has everything taken away from them...over and over and over.

That's about all my nausea-addled brain can handle at the moment. Will find time to post again tomorrow.

Loss of Memory and Sentimental Object

2010-01-07T19:09:00.002-06:00

I'm feeling desperate.

I've lost the beautiful necklace that The Man got my for Christmas. Possibly the most thoughtful gift I've ever received, and I've lost it. I've torn up my apartment, looked in every pocket of every article of clothing in here, called everyone I remember being with while having the necklace and having them search their homes and cars, my next step is to open all the bags of recycling that are still sitting outside and seeing if I accidentally swept it into the bag with some wrapping paper or something.

I feel like an idiot. I've been on a lot of pain medicine lately, and my memory is as unreliable as it's ever been. I can't even imagine what I would have done with the necklace. The chain broke on the day I got it because I was lying down while wearing it, so I carried it around the rest of the day. Then the last thing I remember was draping it over my jewelry hanger so I could put a temporary chain on it. I've gone CSI on the whole area around the jewelry holder. We even checked the vacuum cleaner.

I loved that necklace so much, and misplacing it feels like losing a family member or something.

The Man has been wonderful about it, as wonderful as thinking up and planning that gift to me. He told me he would get me another one. I said I don't deserve another one if I can't even keep that one safe for a few days. He held me close and said, "It's just a necklace. A symbol. And you have the real thing forever: me, and I love you." Then I just cried like a girl.

Drugged

2009-12-28T21:13:00.002-06:00

I'm on a lot of pain medicines right now, and I had the urge to blog under the influence.

I bought myself a Christmas present, a rather expensive one, and it is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. I'm so excited! In retrospect, had I known that I would miss seven hundred days of work because of this shingles nonsense, I may have timed my purchase differently. But it is such a pretty, shiny new toy, that it will be exciting nonetheless.

My health is not improving with any sort of recognizable speed. This is, apparently, typical with shingles, but I'm still not okay with that. My doctor told me today that most people don't start noticing improvement until around six weeks. SIX WEEKS OF THIS. I can't miss six weeks of work. CAN'T. And I can't go to work on Vicodin. And I can't stop taking Vicodin because if I do I'm in disabling pain. And I can't be in that much pain at work because animals' lives depend on my being focused and alert. And I can't miss work because I have to pay bills. And...well you get the idea. I don't know what to do, so at this point I'm taking it one step at a time.

I call my office manager at home every evening and update her on what's going on. When I thanked her for being so understanding about my having to miss work, she told me to get a new hobby, that visiting the doctor daily is at the bottom of the list of enjoyable hobbies for someone like me. I told her I would try and take up knitting in my time off instead. She laughed. People are always sympathetic and patient in the beginning. It's only been a week and a half. Unfortunately my pain and inability to work may extend far beyond my office's patience. I know the daily phone calls, the effort to remain involved and communicate helps my case. I didn't ask for this, I wouldn't wish it on anyone, and hate having to miss work for any reason. I think they realize that, despite my growing collection of unpaid sick days I've taken.

I always appreciate support and sympathy from my friends and family, always. But even that runs out before the illness does. That's okay, life must go on and I still have to take care of myself. Hello, adulthood.

I just tried to get a glass of water from the kitchen, I stubbed my toe on the way, and spilled the water three times before I made it back to the safety of the couch. All narcotics prescriptions should come with protective body padding at no cost to the patient. Fortunately, because of the meds, I don't give a shit that my toe is a little swollen and bright red now. My pant leg is also wet and cold from spilled water, but I don't really care about that either.

The words on the screen are starting to swim around like fish now, so I am going to lie down and watch some Will Ferrell movies until I fall asleep. Cheers to medicating!

BEING SICK MESSES WITH MY HEAD

2009-12-22T19:31:00.006-06:00

Every time I'm sick I feel like a phony. Like I'm only faking it, fever and everything, like I'm lying to everyone to get out of going to work or any other commitments that illness prevents-even though that couldn't be further from the truth. I feel like it's my fault, and if I had done better, or kept up with my diabetes a little better, or whatever, I could have prevented getting sick. I feel like everyone is disappointed in me, and that I'm not sick enough to warrant taking time off to take care of myself.

All of it is irrational, but that's what I feel. I really just feel lonely, on the outside looking in, and that's just the way it is. I've been sick with ambiguous symptoms, fever, back and chest pain, extreme fatigue, for the past couple days. I've missed work, I've gone to the dr, I've felt extremely guilty for missing work and not acting like myself. I'm swinging into a deep depression about it actually. I'll feel better when I have the strength to be rational again, but right now I don't understand how I deserve to have a life when I keep getting sick. There must be something I can do better to keep this from happening. I want to be better. I want to be normal.

But I'm not. I'm just me. I have a boyfriend and friends and family who stand by me no matter what is going on, and I am so fortunate for that. I don't feel like I deserve it, but I am so grateful. I'm grateful that my job is being understanding about all the time I'm having to miss. They know I work hard when I'm there, and they know how much I hate having to call in.

I called my dr tonight and told him about a really weird really painful rash that popped up suddenly, and it's right along the spots on my back and chest that have been so painful for the past couple days. He said it was probably shingles, and to come back in the morning to be completely sure. New medicine, new pain relievers, new pains.

Just trying to wait this out. I want to feel better, and I want to stay better. But, since I don't really have control over that, I appreciate the times when I do feel well even more. And that's about all I can do.

I Wanted to Rant, But This Came Out Instead

2009-12-16T18:00:00.005-06:00

I had this idea today for this blog to write about work stories. That's actually what the whole purpose of this blog was before I took a year and a half break from writing, then deleted all the posts that were originally on here. I also feel that the "you-can't-make-this-shit-up" situations that I repeatedly find myself in at my job every day would be way more entertaining for people than me rambling about my feelings.

But this blog is for me, and if rambling about my feelings on this blog helps me get through my daily life more effectively and sanely, then I will fill every kilobyte with every feeling I have. (A kilobyte is an actual thing, right?) My point is, the purpose of this blog is to get the words out-the words that take up the space in my brain and heart that should be filled with more important things. Like entertaining work stories.

So we'll get there, eventually.

I thought that I could write every day about a situation at work that made me laugh, either while it was happening, or afterwards. There is, without fail, at least one moment of every work day where something makes me laugh. We have fun together as coworkers, usually, and when it gets very stressful we deal with it by acting stupid and making each other laugh. On Fridays, the most torrential day of any healthcare job, we institute One Minute Dance Parties to relieve stress. This is when we all stop whatever we are doing, start a timer for one minute, someone starts singing something along the lines of "Too Much Booty in the Pants..." with someone else beatboxing, and we dance. We dance like white people with no rhythm, except for the white girl who does have rhythm, the Mexican guy who has no rhythm, and the black girl who has plenty of rhythm.

One Minute Dance Parties are the best things to happen to workplace productivity since Christmas bonuses.

Then there are other stories that I can not share until I write my memoirs in a couple decades. At that point I will not be in danger of losing a job that I need, no matter how entertaining the story is, or how intense my need to tell it is, I won't be in danger of getting any licensed medical doctors in any kind of trouble, and I won't be in any danger of offending anyone because I told the story too close to the time it actually happened. Everything's funny if you give it a decade or so.

So I will give it a try. I will tell stories about the amusing moments in my day. I've been a veterinary technician for about 5 years, and it's a job where a "normal" or "slow" day for us would be like either an episode of an outrageous sitcom, or a worst nightmare to most people. I'm sure some of you have jobs like that. All those stories are too good to keep to myself. Even if the last thing I want to think about when I come home in the evening is my work day, writing about it will help me remember the good times and let go of the bad.

Let's see what happens.

If You're Opposed to Song-Lyric-Blog-Posts, Don't Read This

2009-12-16T13:08:00.003-06:00

Sometimes I will have a song stuck in my head for no apparent reason; some song that I know but haven't listened to, or even thought about in a long time. I used to catch myself after the fourth or fifth time the song played on repeat in my head, and make myself listen to the lyrics of the song. I'd play it out in my head and try and figure out what the song is saying to me.

I'd often find that whatever song it was related to whatever situation I was going through at the time, or something someone had said had sparked my brain to select that song from my mental music library. Our brains try to communicate with us in weird ways when we're not paying attention.

I have a song stuck in my head today, and it's been playing over and over non stop. I haven't applied any kind of critical thinking to the lyrics of the song yet, in fact until I began typing this post I forgot that I ever did that. So I decided to copy and paste the lyrics here, and we can go through the experience together. Stop groaning and protesting, I'm going to do it anyway:

Fidelity by Regina Spektor

I never loved nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting my heart truly
I got lost in the sounds
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind all this music

And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart
It breaks my heart

And suppose I never ever met you
Suppose we never fell in love
Suppose I never ever let you kiss me so sweet and so soft
Suppose I never ever saw you
Suppose we never ever called
Suppose I kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall
Just to break my fall
Just to break my fall
Break my fall
Break my fall

All my friends say that of course its gonna get better
Gonna get better
Better better better better
Better better better

I never love nobody fully
Always one foot on the ground
And by protecting by heart truly
I got lost
In the sounds
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind all these words
I hear in my mind
All this music
And it breaks my heart
It breaks my heart

I hear in my mind all of these voices
I hear in my mind all of these words
I hear in my mind all of this music

Breaks my
Heart
Breaks my heart

I guess it's pretty relevant. Especially since I just wrote a blog post about all of these voices, words, and music that I hear in my mind. I'm not sure if it helped get the song out of my head at all, because I still hear it going on. But it's better than the nursery rhymes one of the doctors at work sings when he can't think of anything to talk about.

Yeah, that's another story for another time.

Several Bits of Nothing

2009-12-15T19:33:00.002-06:00

I went to the court hearing this morning, sat there for two hours, and the person never showed up. Classy. So I guess that's a big fat forfeit, which is just fine with me.

I did have to meet up at work on my day off, but I got dressed in actual human clothes, did my hair, put on makeup, a state of being that I'm not sure my coworkers have ever seen me in. That was pretty fun.

I have a lot of strange emotions going on inside me. I thought writing about some of them would help me pinpoint at least a few of them, but now that doesn't even make much sense. Today is the one year anniversary of The Man and I being together. That's a huge milestone for me, and the first of its kind in my life. We are talking about marriage, which is big. We went to a movie at the theater we first met at 365 days ago.

Christmas is next week, about which I'm still in a state of disbelief. Amazingly, I've gotten all of my shopping done, which is one less thing to feel guilty about. I'm also not sure about how I'm supposed to be feeling about holiday times, but I'm pretty sure I'm not feeling it.

I am very very tired. I haven't been sleeping very well, and work is extra demanding and stressful and draining these days. Not overwhelming, but it leaves me in a state of recovery on my days off.

I don't know what else to do, or what else to write. I don't feel better, or worse, or much of anything. I think I'll go to bed. Okay bye.

Stopping the Spiral

2009-12-14T19:56:00.004-06:00

Okay, so I failed on my goal of not eating any of the Christmas treats at work.

Totally failed.

I've been stress-eating unhealthy foods at work because my job is especially stressful and demanding during the holiday season. It's also stressful because tomorrow I have to attend a court hearing for a former coworker whom I inadvertently (but to the regret of no one) got fired. I formally documented and reported an incident when this person was particularly rude and unprofessional to me in front of a client. One of many many many times, but the first time both I and a client were involved. And apparently, even though everyone else in the office complained constantly about this person, only two or three people have ever done anything about it...in the nine years that this person has worked there.

So, they had concrete probable cause to fire her when I formally complained...and I'm now the focus of this person's laser of hatred. She has made outrageous and untrue statements about me, and the other two people who have formally complained about her are conveniently unavailable to back me up. I have the support of the office manager, but it's still a crappy situation.

After tomorrow, though, I'm hoping it will all be over, and this person won't start stalking me or something. I'm not nervous, because I know I'm telling the truth. I just really really don't want to be involved in this. But I will do it.

In other news, I went to the gym tonight with a coworker who lives in my apartment complex. We have been talking about going, have made several specific plans to go, since we live in the same complex and pay for access to the same gym...but then we have made many many lame excuses to get out of it. We decided today that it was stupid to keep putting it off because the longer we wait, the bigger pain in the ass it becomes, but if we just do it and get the first few times over with, then we are on our way.

I've been having a hard time dealing with the depression lately. I also haven't been eating well, exercising at all, blogging or writing anything, paying close attention to my blood sugars, keeping with the daily routine that keeps me sane, or even brushing my teeth regularly. One thing slips, and before very long it snowballs. But today I broke the cycle, and I will do what I can, one day at a time.

When I get the routine back, I will write consistently again. I think it will be good for me, because that way I don't have to carry all that stuff around with me. Also because one of these days I may actually write something good!

Pancreas Shaped Holiday

2009-12-09T19:38:00.004-06:00

I've been avoiding the blog.

I go through a lot of emotions around the holidays, and even though writing through some of them could have been very soothing to my jumbled brain, I didn't do it. Actually, I deliberately ignored it, the way I often deliberately ignore things that are good for me at times when I need them the most. I've gotten too relaxed about my diabetes control (but at least I bolused insulin for all that Ben & Jerry's), I've done some pretty impressive backpedaling on my no-processed-foods goal (but all ingredients in the Ben & Jerry's were, at one point, unprocessed), and I've spent about a month and a half trying to convince myself to go back to the gym (but I always take the stairs at work instead of the elevator...while thinking about Ben & Jerry's). The motivation is just not there. Unfortunately, I, and the hand that I was dealt in life, have far greater consequences to my being lazy in these areas than most people do. I also tend to be way too hard on myself when I fail to live up to my own unrealistic expectations. So I've learned that there is always time, as long as I'm still breathing, to move forward and take control back. I can't focus on the mistakes or failures, or think about all the things I should have done, all I can do is start right now and move forward.

I have a goal for my work-self this holiday season. The clinic receives a steady stream of delicious, expensive, shiny, sugary edible gifts from clients and referring doctors, things that sit on the counter in front of me, in my personal space, and wait for someone to eat them. It is the easiest thing in the world to grab a handful of gourmet popcorn here, a sliver of cinnamon creme cake there, a cookie or two while I wait to discharge a patient, some spice drops while I have a conversation with a doctor...and at the time, none of it seems to be a big deal. Then an hour or two later, when I feel like I have sand running through my veins, and I have to sit down so I don't vomit, and I test my blood sugar which ends up having way too many numbers in it, I shake hands with my reality check. She says, in a slightly exasperated voice, "When you eat without giving insulin, your body doesn't know what to do and it starts shutting down. Nothing has changed since the last time you tried this, and every other time you've tried it before that because you're still diabetic."

Oh. Right. That.

So my goal is to not eat any of the holiday treats that are delivered in such exquisite packages and placed in my personal space. I don't need to snack aimlessly at work anyway. I bring almonds, string cheese, and apple slices to work and keep them in my locker for my scheduled snack times and for the times that I feel like I have to eat because other people around me are eating. Holidays are food heaven/hell for most people. That's why gyms make so much money at the beginning of the year. There's just so much good damn food around the holiday times! It's a special brand of hell for diabetics.

So while I live through the holidays, my goal isn't to avoid cheating, or even avoid failures. It'll be a cold day in diabetic hell before I ever expect that of myself. My goal is specifically to avoid holiday treats that are brought into the clinic where I work. I'm going to start there, and see how I do. There just might be some hope for me yet.

Kittens and Happy Things

2009-11-29T20:02:00.002-06:00

God, I hate leaving posts like the previous one as the first thing you see when you come here!
So to lighten the mood, here is a video of a kitten:

2009-11-29T19:42:00.003-06:00

Sometimes it's little things that can set off a big reaction. Sometimes it's little things that can make you feel more alone than you've felt in years. Sometimes it's not even rational, but the feelings are very real.

Sometimes you just wish someone would understand you without your having to explain yourself.

Sometimes lots and lots of little things hit you all at once, causing all the walls to fall down on top of you. When that happens, all bets are off.

Today Made Me Want To Cry

2009-11-24T18:24:00.002-06:00

Today made me want to cry, and I didn't even realize this until I got home. It's as though I ran, sprinted, for 11 hours straight, but didn't have time to think about what it was doing to my physical or emotional well being until I came home and sat down for the first time. It all hit me at once.

It was a long, busy day, and it was supposed to be my day off. I wanted to make up a few hours that I missed when I was sick for 2 weeks. It will barely make a dent in the void, but every little bit helps. I just picked a hell of a day to give up a day off. Tomorrow will only get more exciting.

I also fought a losing battle between my will power and the counter full of free, fancy, delicious holiday treats that stared at me all day long. That, also, will only get worse as we dive into the holidays.

I know I've been a bad blogger. Self preservation is job #1 when it comes to the holidays.

The Dream House

2009-11-21T17:44:00.004-06:00

I just found a more realistic dream house that I want to live in, and it looks like this:

If we end up buying this house, we're having you all over for a giant cookout. And then you can all stay over because there is so much room. And you can all bring your dogs because there's also a dog door.

It's also in a FUN neighborhood.
Cross your fingers...

Potential Steve House Wishlist

2009-11-17T11:41:00.002-06:00

I believe in figuring out exactly what you want in life, specifically, without putting any kinds of mental limits on yourself. I'm also a big fan of making lists, so I believe in writing down what you want before you have a chance to talk yourself out of anything. It's easy to tell yourself things like "I want a house, but I don't know how that could happen..." There are two directions you can go from here. Most of us go to all the reasons that would keep us from getting that thing that we want. "I have too much debt, I haven't paid my car off, my credit sucks, I don't make enough money, I'm not up for a promotion at work, my parents never taught me to expect more from myself, the economy is proving that I will never be able to have what I want in my life and I will always be struggling to pay my minimum bills, I will die alone, I should probably just check myself into a nursing home." It spirals, and that faint glimmer of happiness that comes with picturing something good you want out of life is squelched faster than it came.

The second direction you can take your thoughts after the initial "I want..." is the one that I am training myself to take. So far it is working very well for me. I say, "I want a house, but I don't know how that could happen..." and instead of jumping to all the reasons it can't happen, no matter how realistic those reasons are, I say, "...But if it could happen, this is what I would want in a house." I let myself think out the ideal situation for me and my life- ideal neighborhoods, ideal square footage and number of bathrooms, carpet color and kitchen layout, backyard size and how many dogs I could fit in it. I don't put any limits on laying it out in front of me honestly.

It's hard for me to do this, but it's also freeing to not have to constantly talk myself out of things that I want because of very real limitations.

I do want a house. I've been combing online real estate listings almost daily for months now. I've contacted real estate agents as though I were planning on buying a house now. I've learned a lot about what it takes to purchase a house, I've learned a lot about what kind of house I could realistically expect to get in my current situation, and I've learned a lot about the different ways I could actually make this happen for myself. It's a much more productive thought path than poo-pooing the idea from the start.

So, in the spirit of freeing myself to think about what I want out of life, I've made a wishlist of things that I want in a house...as though I were going to buy soon.
I want:

Hardwood floors
A house with stairs (a childhood dream. I feel I should be faithful to my earnest inner child.)
A large backyard (this is actually non-negotiable)
Large trees
A kitchen with lots of counter space
Space for a kitchen table
A real front porch
At least two bathrooms
At least three bedrooms (ie. room to grow)
In neighborhood equidistant to our respective jobs and other centers of activity
In neighborhood accessible to our family and friends
A house realistically accessible to us within the next year or two. (ie. not necessarily holding out for "Dream House," we'd rather move soon)
If you can lie down in any direction outside and touch both mine and my neighbor's house and the same time, it's not worth putting my money into

There's the list based on my recent months of research. I admit that I am looking at houses online right now and e-mailing real estate agents. It is fun to think about, and exciting to think that this could actually happen for me soon!

A large, open living room that can comfortable fit many friends

Huh.

2009-11-15T14:02:00.002-06:00

I just learned that "A Girl Named Steve" is also the name of an article in a sexuality magazine about androgynous children whose parents put them through surgery to cut off certain parts so they become girls, and the psychological effects on them as adults. It's also the first search result in google, though I'm sure you realized this if you used google to find my blog.

To everyone who came here looking for the article, my apologies, this blog has nothing to do with that. But the article can be found here. It's a pretty interesting article.

Though slightly disappointing, only because I thought I was unique.

This is Not Your Mother's Status Quo

2009-11-14T19:23:00.004-06:00

Hysterical breakdown #2: complete.

I can't hear anything. Well I hear sounds, but I can't make out what people are saying. You know all the stuff you hear happening in your neighbor's apartment? That's what it sounds like when people are right in front of me. And I'm not talking about the sex noises or tribal chanting. I'm simply referring to muffled conversations.

I ran into a problem when I took the dogs out earlier, off leash, and they enthusiastically ran off after a big dog walking with his owner through the courtyard. My dogs love other dogs, and they will usually listen to me when I call them off of another dog if the situation gets tense. (I know, I know, I should leash them. I'm a walking impending lawsuit.) Anyway, the big dog was friendly, but my dogs did not listen to me when I called them off. I walked closer, yelling their names, yelling "LEAVE IT" and they didn't respond. I tried physically catching them, and couldn't. Well, it turns out the big dog's owner was talking to me the entire time. She was very nice, and when I apologized for yelling in her face and told her I couldn't hear very well, she talked loudly and looked right at my face.

I got the dogs home, apologized profusely to the nice law-abiding neighbor, and went home. I was a little rattled, and put the dogs in time out for not listening. (They get locked in my room for 10 minutes) That's when I started realizing that I haven't left the house to do anything functional in about 5 days. I went to work on Monday, just after another 5 day stint with a stomach flu, then got hit with the ear thing. I've lost all sense of normal, and have many strong emotions-none of them rational. It's extremely unnerving.

I talked to my mom today...well, texted her, since phone calls are pointless for me right now...and she said that the antibiotic that I'm currently on has always messed with my head. I've taken it in the past, my whole life, as a last resort, when nothing else did the trick. It's definitely working on the ears. I've noticed marked improvement. But it is screwing with my head big time. Plus I still have fever that comes and goes.

It's disturbing how quickly some emotion will hit me. Some non-issue will trigger it, and the next minute I'm crying and trembling and yelling at The Man to NOT SAY YOU'LL DO SOMETHING IF YOU DON'T PLAN TO DO IT!

I mean, that would be great advice if he had actually done something to warrant it.

So going back to work should be fun. I have no more sick days, and would like to be able to return on Monday. But if I feel like I do now, I'm not sure I will make it. Fever is low, 99.9, but I get winded doing such strenuous tasks as folding kitchen towels, and feeding the dogs. So it looks like I need to calm down, once again, and give myself time to heal. It's hard to do that when the chemicals that are healing you are also eating your rational thought processes. But lo, I wait.

Getting There

2009-11-13T15:53:00.004-06:00

Well I've lost seven pounds after 4 days of eating nothing but jello and applesauce when I have to take meds. The tissues around my ears and face are so swollen that my jaws will not shut, thus I cannot chew. As fun as all that sounds, I definitely do not recommend this diet to anyone.

Today I'm doing better, and I think I'm starting to heal. My fever is gone, and though I still can't hear anything, the pain is starting to lessen in my ears. The skin around my ears, though, like on my cheeks, feels raw and irritated. There is constant discharge from my ears, even though they are still swollen shut. They're starting to itch periodically, which I remember is a sign of healing. A really annoying sign of healing, but still, I'll take it.

My parents and The Man and The Man's mom have all brought me food and medicine, and my friends have been very supportive. I'm happy to be feeling a little bit better today. I've gotten to catch up on some sleep today, and may even attempt solid foods tonight. But maybe not. Let's not get crazy.

Okay, meds kicking in now, putting myself back to bed.

OW OW OW

2009-11-11T15:13:00.002-06:00

I am in pain and it is distracting to a degree that I can't focus on anything. As I wait for the Vicadin to kick in, I'm lying on the couch trying to play pinball on the computer to try and keep my mind occupied.

But I am writing this to prove that I can keep goals.

If the pain recedes at all, I'll post something under the influence of narcotics. It could be entertaining.

Jedi Doctor Visit

2009-11-10T10:52:00.005-06:00

I went to my endocrinologist appointment today, fully expecting her to act fully disappointed and angry about all the things I have been so frustrated with lately. I expected more character debasement such as, "If I was your boyfriend, and you took care of yourself like that in front of me, I would leave you. Period." (That's a direct quote.) I did not know if I was going to stay with this doctor and have to hear things like that at each visit.

I still don't know if I will stay forever, but today there was no yelling. There was actually no negative criticism, of my character or otherwise, at today's visit. My hemoglobin A1c, the most important test a diabetic can take, was down to 7.4 from 8.8 at my visit two months ago. The A1c is basically an average of your blood sugars over the past three months. And I lowered mine an unheard of (for me) point and a half in just TWO months. The rest of my labwork was "perfect" also. She actually used the word perfect. I have no more signs of kidney damage, which has freaked my shit out on all my previous labwork. My thyroid is in the exact target range, my A1c is higher than I want it to be, but making a drastic descent. By blood sugar was even perfect.

I kept a secret from my doctor. I know, I know, full disclosure and patient compliance= 100x more effective results. I am going to continue keeping the secret to myself anyway, for now. My blood pressure has been higher than she wanted it from day 1. She started me on blood pressure medicine before she even asked about family medical history. She's even increased the dose twice. Well, 3 weeks ago I could not afford to refill my blood pressure pills at the pharmacy, and I haven't been taking them since. I also cut out 90% of my salt intake and drank 3x more water.

As she put the blood pressure cuff on me, I was prepared for full disclosure, because I knew it would be high again. Then she told me the number, did a little happy dance, and told me she was very pleased. I could have told her that I hadn't been on the meds for 3 weeks, maybe I will next time. But for now I'm going to hold on to my secret success at taking my health control back from western medicine.

There was one point in the appointment when we were talking and her eyes kept wandering to some spot on the wall behind me. There was a fly in the office. She apologized for being distracted, and asked for a moment to get rid of the fly. She began swinging her arms wildly and hopping, trying to clap the fly between her palms. She's five foot nothin' and wears large black horn-rimmed glasses...and she was hopping like a maniac after an elusive fly. It was hovering near my shoulder, so I reached out, Jedi style, caught the fly in my hand, then dropped it in the trashcan. She cheered and laughed excitedly saying, "Yes! I like you! I LIKE YOU." Then she sanitized the fly guts off my hand and we continued like nothing had happened.

So not only did I prove to myself and her that my hard work is starting to pay off, but I proved that, in well controlled blood sugar ranges...I am a Jedi.

The Latest Episode of The Man's Webshow

2009-11-09T13:33:00.002-06:00

In case you were curious : )

Everything Changes

2009-11-08T11:18:00.005-06:00

I am overwhelmed. My health is out of control, and I carry around an increasing amount of guilt because of it. In every situation in which I find myself ill or with a random high blood sugar, I can look back figure out all of the steps I could have taken to prevent it from happening. So I feel like it's my fault for not paying enough attention to what I was doing- it's so simple, why didn't I just take that extra step??

I went out last night to an informal after-party with The Man and everyone from his film crew. They filmed the fifth episode of their web show, which is a smash hit in the online community, and also hilarious, and they all went out to celebrate. I made myself go even though I felt pretty shitty, because I hadn't been out of the house in a couple days, and because I genuinely enjoy hanging out with these people. My blood sugar was high before I left, but by the time we got there and were ready to eat, it was 125. The menu was mostly bar food, nothing remotely healthy. I got chips and salsa, the only thing that didn't make me feel like vomiting to think about. I gave appropriate insulin, hung out, enjoyed myself, and got home feeling sick and exhausted. I threw up the chips and salsa. My blood sugar was 299. I gave insulin, drank liter after liter of water, and got the blood sugar back to 125 before I went to bed. Then this morning I woke up with a blood sugar of 308 and feel like I've been run over by a truck.

It makes me want to give up. I wonder if all the hard work I've put into this is for nothing, because as soon as I figure out one problem in my health, everything changes and I have to start all over. What's the point of making any plans for my life if nothing is ever going to be in my control anyway? If there are a million things I can do at any point in time to have the perfect health all the time, then why am I not doing them? What is wrong with me? Sometimes it feels like I can either have a life, or I can be diabetic, because I apparently don't have the mental or physical capability to do both. Diabetes is a full time job, and I also have a full time job. Of which I missed three days this week.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

I talked to a good friend last night, who reminded me of something very important: I have made a LOT of changes in my life in a very short amount of time. Not only that, but I keep wanting to make more changes. There's nothing wrong with wanting to make more changes, but it might be wise to chill out for a little bit. Finish one thing before starting another. One of those simple life lessons that I so easily forget.

Let's review the changes I have made this year: I started a serious relationship, I started a new job which offers me medical insurance, I got used to working 12 hour shifts, I started going back to church, I started seeing a diabetes doctor again and paying attention to my health again, I had the serious relationship move in with me, we've decided we want to get engaged and have talked about marriage and its meaning to both of us, I've started exercising again, I've given up caffeine, I've given up artificial sweeteners, I've begun the mass culling of processed foods from my diet, I've started using an insulin pump, I've started preparing for buying a house, I've started preparing for having babies one day, The Man has a completely unexpected but exciting book publishing deal and possibilities for TV/film script writing-which all happened in just over one week, I paid off my car, I bought new underwear, I have lived with cats for four months and I'm allergic to cats!

That's enough!

ENOUGH!

I think I can safely cut myself some slack and give myself a chance to finish processing all of this. I need to get what I have right in front of me under control before I think of new ways to make my daily experience do 180 twists. So my blood sugar was high this morning. I treated it and am staying home to rest until I feel better. Then when I feel better I take care of whatever is in front of me at that point. One foot, then the other foot, then the other foot...

I was trying to be metaphorical just then, but I think it came across sounding like I have three feet. I don't. All I'm saying is that everything has changed for me this year. All I can do is deal and move forward from here. There's no point in beating myself up or carrying the guilt around with me. That will only weigh me down. I can't have the extra weight, I have things to do.

What I Want

2009-11-07T08:01:00.004-06:00

Okay, I think my punkass phase has passed for now, and I'm ready to write a real blog post. I've been sick this week and have missed three days of work. Payday will be a sad day this time around, but I didn't want to go in and infect anyone else.

Having to stay in when I'm sick makes me crazy. I start to lose my perspective on life and health and everything else. I forget why it matters that I keep my blood sugars under control-they do what they want no matter what I do. I forget why it's important to take a shower every day-if I'm not leaving the house there's no one to impress. But that's when I force myself to go through the motions and get myself back to a state of normalcy.

I'm feeling better today.

I really want to get off of my antidepressant meds. Really. I foolishly tried to do this on my own a few years ago, and it met disastrous results. I became someone I couldn't even recognize, and I don't ever want to go back there again. I believe that the chemical balance in my brain is what the medicine corrects. I've accepted the fact that antidepressants are not "happy pills," nor are they shameful in any way. They simply help my brain function like it's supposed to. (Hey, I did learn something from therapy!)

However, they are still addictive in a way that I'm not okay with. Not psychologically addictive, but chemically addictive. Going off the medication involves severe and dangerous withdrawals. Stomach cramping, vomiting, seizures (if you don't do it right), tremors, suicidal thoughts. I want to believe that there are other ways to deal with the chemical imbalance in my brain other than strong medication. Diet: I've completely changed my diet in the past several months. I'm not drinking liters of caffeine and artificial sweeteners every day, I'm eating way more fruits and vegetables, and I'm on my way to eliminating all processed foods from my diet. God only knows what all those chemicals and preservatives and whatnots they put in our food were doing to my brain chemistry. I'm also exercising a lot more than I used to. I'm willing to do more. If going to the gym for an hour every day will help me maintain mental health without medication, then I will do it. I'll find a way to go 2 hours if I need to.

Another reason for wanting to at least stop taking the medication that I'm currently on is because of that "tiny nerd" scenario I've previously mentioned on this blog. It is addictive to an unborn baby, and there have been cases of babies whose moms were on the med for the whole pregnancy that were born with seizures and neurological problems. Also, in some cases, the babies didn't stop crying for 2 months. Good lord!! The consensus is that you weigh the pros and cons of staying on the medication when you're pregnant. If it would be disastrous for the mother to stop taking the medication (see previous paragraph) then they can administer small doses of the med to the newborn until they're not in withdrawal anymore. That makes sense, but is also completely horrifying.

We're not planning on having any tiny nerds for at least a year, maybe more. But there are things I can do now to get myself under control before I have to be responsible for someone else's entire life. I think I'm going to talk to my doctor about trying a different approach to treating my depression. As soon as I mention it, he will throw things and tell me I'm crazy because of what happened last time I tried a "different approach." But I still want to know what he thinks. He's been my doctor since I was 2, and has not only diagnosed me with diabetes 24 years ago, but has seen me through a number of other atypical illnesses when other doctors just had panic attacks. I have a plan, and it's all part of me taking control back.

For now I just need to get over this stomach bug thing so I can move on with my life!

Sick

2009-11-06T21:40:00.003-06:00

'I didn't want to blog today,' said Little Peggy Ann McKay.
I try to weasel out of goals,
I whine, I wait, and then I bolt.
I'm sick, and mad, and uninspired.
Which sucks because I was on fire.
I got sick, and I missed work,
It makes me feel like I'm the worst.
My goals aren't met, I must stay in,
I lose every bit of my momentum.
Depression blows, but all these pills
Don't keep my brain from getting ill
When I can't do the things I want
It makes me sad, then I can't blog.
How do I make this stay away?
I'll do anything, eat! Run! Pray!
Then a good friend whom I've not met
Reminds me that you read this sh...ett.
'Do not let it happen again.
Blog, dammit, you'll be glad you did!'
I opened up the blogger page
And wrote some things that were too vague.
It felt good, but it wasn't right.
Why can't I write my thoughts tonight?
I talked out loud to the blank screen.
I said out loud, powerfully,
'I DO NOT WANT TO BLOG TODAY
SAID GIRL NAMED STEVE-Y ANN McKAY!'

Top 11 Fake Songs That Get Stuck in My Head

2009-11-05T07:07:00.011-06:00

Because my lists go to eleven.

1. Muffin Top - from 30 Rock, Jenna Mulroney
Muffin Top - Click here for funny video clips
I've recently been known to make use of the fantastic stairwell acoustics at work with this song on my way to drop off lab work.

2. Free Love on the Freelove Freeway - from The Office BBC, David Brent
David Brent : Free Love On The Freelove Freeway... - The best home videos are here
I sing this song every time there is a guitar in my hand. If anyone joins me, I have new best friends.

3. That One Night - from The Office (America), Hunter, Jan's former assistant
I often get this stuck in my head to such a degree that I actually hear Andy Bernard singing along with me.

4. Talkin' it Up on the Barry Gibb Talk Show (talkin' 'bout chest hair...talkin' 'bout crazy cool medallions...) - from SNL. Jimmy Fallon and Justin Timberlake
An old favorite. The only reason I ever listened to anything by the Beegees

5. Werewolf Bar Mitzvah - from 30 Rock. Tracy Jordan
Werewolf Bar Mitzvah - For more funny videos, click here
Tina Fey is my hero.

6. Dayman Fighter of the Nightman (remix)- from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Dennis and Charlie
Dayman Remix (It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia) - These bloopers are hilarious
There was a discussion among my coworkers of throwing a Dayman vs. Nightman party that would require everyone to come dressed as one of the characters in the play. This still might happen.

7. Bring it on In to Omletteville - SNL, Justin Timberlake
I have a new respect for Justin Timberlake after seeing him dance around in an egg suit.

8. 1234 [Splendas in your coffee, Stanley...] - from The Office (America), Andy Bernard changes the words to the Feist song (I couldn't find audio or video of this, but if you call me on the phone, I'll sing to you.)

9. Smelly Cat - from Friends, Phoebe
Smelly Cat - Phoebe Buffay - Watch more amazing videos here
I still sing this to patients to whom it applies.

10. Stop Dropping Garbage on Whales - from SNL, Jimmy Fallon and Gwyneth Paltrow
( can't find a link to video or audio of this one...but I have a transcript of the skit to prove it existed...)
I sing this one with my guitar right after I finish Freelove Freeway.

11. Xanotab - from Arrested Development, Dr. Funke's 100% Natural Good Time Family Band Solution
Hmmm, I wonder if another theme party could stem from this...

BONUS: (this is amazing...if you're an Office fan...)
The Office Musical - Funny bloopers R us

Leave your favorite fake songs in the comments.

More Goals and More Frustrations

2009-11-04T14:18:00.004-06:00

I am home sick from work today, so I guess it's two steps forward, two steps back. Things are changing for me quickly, however. The Man has been discovered by agents and publishers, which is endlessly exciting, but long overdue for him. I'm very proud of him. You can be sure I will be pimping his book at my earliest opportunity.

I have made a goal to lose 25 pounds in six months. It's the extra 25 pounds I've put on in the past few years since my diabetes has flown out of control. To do this, I'm giving up processed foods, most of my starches, and increasing my time at the gym. Processed foods have hidden carbs that make my blood sugar jump around like crazy. I've always been what is known as a "brittle diabetic"...whatever that means. Having type 1 diabetes is like pregnancy in that you either are or you aren't. There aren't degrees of change. But my body, as I have been learning over the past 24 years with this disease, is extremely sensitive to chemicals and sugars and other things that come about as a result of regular food processing.

I ate a bowl of cereal today. I had given it up many months ago after realizing that I had bizarre blood sugar spikes an hour or two after eating it, even plain unsweetened cereals. I eat fruit and turkey sausage in the mornings now with much more success. Well this morning after eating cereal, my body freaked out. This was even a healthy cereal- organic and with no hydrogenated oils. Not only was my blood sugar whacked after that, but my stomach wasn't happy either. I spent a while in the bathroom. There might have been other things going on in my body. I mean it's possible that the cereal wasn't the only impetus for the crazy reaction. But from now on I'm staying away.

At lunch, I cheated. I figured I was already fucked up on the health front, so I would get something that I have denied myself for health reasons. I got a cheeseburger and a diet coke, and I ate almost half the burger before I had to give up. More time in the bathroom, and more insulin adjustments. That's quite enough of that. This line of psychology is something I always use, but it never works out well for me.

I got my blood sugar sensor device in the mail yesterday. It's a little subcutaneous chip thing that monitors my blood sugar levels 24 hours a day and communicates with the insulin pump to adjust insulin levels. I'm scared to open the box. I'm scared that the blood sugar control rug will be pulled out from under me again when I start using this thing, just like it did at first with the pump. Also, I have to call the lady I fired, and have her come over and show me how to use the thing. I don't want to do any of that. Also, I don't want to wear another THING on my body, especially since I'm still trying to get used to the first THING I have on all the time.

The THING hasn't interfered with any physical activities, even those activities not requiring clothing, so I'm sure it will all be fine. But the box, for now anyway, is staying closed. Now that I have gotten that all off my chest, I'm going to take a nap.

Two Steps Forward...

2009-11-03T20:51:00.002-06:00

Today was a step backwards. Blood sugar hit 300 for the first time in a long time. I still can't afford to refill medications. I'm going to see the diabetes dr next week, and she will yell at me for not writing down everything that happens every minute of the day. She will yell at me for not refilling my meds.

I'm not feeling well today, and I slept a lot because of the high blood sugar. I didn't go to the gym today. I did get my car inspection renewed and spent a lot of money that I don't have doing it. But now I won't get pulled over.

Me and my mud brain are going to go to bed now. Better days are ahead.

The Patient History That Kept Getting Weirder

2009-11-02T20:40:00.002-06:00

A conversation that took place between me and a client regarding her dog when I was checking her into the clinic.

ME: So [your dog] has been having these symptoms for about a week now. Is she on any medications?

CLIENT: Yeah they put her on Antibiotic Eye Goopey.

ME: ...Okay, do you know the name of the Goopey?

CLIENT: No idea. It was really goopey.

ME: Ok, great. So how many times a day have you been giving it?

CLIENT: Oh, I haven't given it in a week. It wasn't working.

ME: How long was she on it?

CLIENT: I never gave it to her.

ME: Well, that might be why it wasn't working. Is she current on her vaccinations including rabies?

CLIENT: What are vaccinations? She doesn't have rabies.

ME: So you don't get her vaccinated?

CLIENT: What do you mean?

ME: Her yearly shots, do you take her to get those?

CLIENT: Oh! No.

ME: Okay... Has she ever had allergic reactions to any medications?

CLIENT: Well, I don't know if this counts as an allergic reaction, but she likes to play with a brick.

ME: What is...um...she had an allergic reaction to a brick?

CLIENT: No.

ME: So, what...

CLIENT: That's how this all started with her eye. See, she used to play with a brick, and now she plays with cinder blocks, you know, those cement blocks they use to build walls? She drags those around and sometimes throws them. I think one of them might have hit her in the eye.

ME: Okay, when did you see her get hit with the cinder block?

CLIENT: Oh, I didn't see it, she just likes to throw them.

ME: (glancing at the 15 pound terrier on the exam table)

CLIENT: I took her to the vet when her eye first started bulging out like that, and when I went back a few days later for her recheck, it was just GONE.

ME: What was gone?

CLIENT: The vet clinic. They told me the doctor had died, but I didn't see anything about it in the paper. I don't know what kind of shady things were going on there.

ME: Wow. I...will let the doctor know you're here, and we'll see how we can help this kiddo.

CLIENT: Thank you so much!

Sometimes you have conversations with people, and you just keep waiting for a punchline that never comes. This lady was very nice, and her dog was as sweet as can be. We are doing surgery to fix her eye tomorrow. All the same, I never felt that she and I were having the same conversation. Her answers kept getting weirder with every new question I asked.

Animal people are strange people.

The Hike

2009-11-02T20:31:00.002-06:00

As I climbed the steep and treacherous slope of the treadmill at the gym tonight, I realized that every 35 minute cardio session I put in at the gym is an investment in my future. I'm adding years to my life, building muscles to help my body use insulin better (and to make me look hot in skirts), and building up energy to live like I want to live. I am in control, my disease no longer controls me.

A Rabbit Trail

2009-11-01T21:56:00.005-06:00

This weekend was not at all what I expected it to be, but it was probably just what I needed. I had time to rest and regroup, and I had time to take a step back and think about my life, where it's going, what the next step is, etc.

My health is slowly but surely getting back into my control. I had a light dinner tonight, then ice cream and a scary movie for desert, and my blood sugar was 118 two hours later. In case you don't know what that means, I'll tell you. It means I'm awesome. I have the 5-days-at-the-gym goal for myself again this week, and I'm going to try hard to make it happen. If I only get three days in again, I will still be happy at the end of the week, but it will make me try harder next week.

I've spent a lot of time looking at real estate online. I've written to agents about certain houses that catch my eye, and I've gotten a much clearer idea of what we can realistically afford. With all this research comes talks of marriage and tiny little reasons to have a house with room to grow. We refer to those reasons as our future "tiny nerd children." It kind of puts everything in perspective...not that I haven't spent most of my life thinking about one day having children, if I'm completely honest.

Also, if we're being completely honest with each other, that is a big motivation for getting healthy again. There are enough risks involved in the prospect of pregnancy, with me being diabetic, that I want to do everything else I can to give the kid a good chance at making it. Now, life experience has taught me that sometimes you can do everything right and bad things still happen. Sometimes you fuck everything up, and good things still happen.

Living through one (or dozens) (or hundreds) of those experiences will give you a pretty realistic outlook on life and planning a future. I am aware that a large percentage of diabetics, even healthy ones, miscarry the first time around. I don't know if I'm emotionally prepared to deal with that, but I know it's a risk. Those are things that are constantly on my mind.

But, when the time is right, it will happen. For now, I have some down payment money to save up, and some diabetes whose ass needs kicking. I'll work on that right now.

Goal Keeper

2009-10-31T21:03:00.002-05:00

I don't have much to say tonight, but I would like to point out that this is the sixteenth day I have achieved my goal of posting something on my blog every day. I went to the gym three days this week, though my goal was five. I have also tested my blood sugars at least 8 times every day the past two weeks. Pretty impressive compared to this time last year, when I tested two or three times a week, at best. I'm pretty proud of myself for keeping these goals so far.

I didn't go to my Halloween party tonight. I don't really want to talk about that, though, so I'll focus on my colossal achievements of the past two weeks instead.

Show and Tell

2009-10-30T22:54:00.017-05:00

I am very tired tonight, so instead of attempting to write coherently, I'm going to let some pictures speak for me. Please note that these were taken with my cell phone camera, which sucks.

First of all, guess who was feeling 100% better today:
Dazzle, the fish! He was not floating on his side or desperately gulping air anymore like he was yesterday. Our theory is that he really had to fart, but didn't want anyone to watch him do it.

Next, I have compiled a series of [crappy cell phone] photos of various pets that were wearing costumes today:
This is Mo the Boston terrier, and he was dressed as a squirrel. (Please take note of the "nut" that he is "holding.")

This is Toby the cocker spaniel. He's a rooster.

This is Witten, the baby Boston terrier, who is dressed as a pumpkin. He hates it.

This is Wilson, the Corgi/banana. He just wants cookies.

This is...wait, how did that get in there?

Sometimes our techs dress like their dogs.

And finally:

My children, Shark Boy and Bat Girl. (costumes homemade)
I have some better pictures of them, taken with disposable cameras and pending film development. I will post them soon, because I will not be able to help myself.

Tomorrow is Halloween for the grownups, and I will have some human pictures after the party I will attend dressed as a member of the Blue Man Group. Now, bedtime.

Fish Eyes

2009-10-29T18:01:00.003-05:00

Nothing is funnier than being among a group of veterinarians trying to diagnose a fellow vet tech's sick betta fish. We suggested procedures and treatments that we use on eyeballs to cure swim bladder infection. Add a lot of sarcasm, one hysterical vet tech fish mom, and a series of moments where I'm 100% sure I shouldn't have been laughing, and you have a vet tech dark comedy.

We've put the fish on a restricted diet for a week, treated his water with antibiotics, and prescribed daily singing of "Just Keep Swimming" from Finding Nemo. We're all pulling for him.
Actually, three of us are pulling for him. Everyone else expects to come into work tomorrow to find a dead fish.

In other news I made it to the gym tonight. I'm having mixed emotions about my medications. I don't know if my lack of the medications that I can't afford is messing with my brain chemistry balance. I don't know if my health is changing for the better and now I'm having to adjust accordingly. I don't know why still feel sad about a lot of things. I don't know why I don't want to eat anything anymore.

My blood sugars were good today, aside from the 202 I woke up with this morning. I'm hoping for a uneventful night tonight, since I went to the gym and my blood sugars like to bottom out whenever I do that. All I can do is make myself eat things and hope for the best!

A Moment in the Life

2009-10-28T19:53:00.003-05:00

Things I've said today:

"Dog, I'm not going to lie to you, your breath smells like horse shit."

"Where do you want me to mail this eyeball?"

"My leg's been anal glanded, and it's not even 8am."

"I said 'cocker spaniel,' 'cock-a-poo,' 'cockatoo,' 'cock-eyed,' 'cockamamie,' and she didn't even giggle. It's going to be a bad day."

"I think I want to be emo for Halloween."

Just thought I'd give you a tiny glimpse into a day in the life of me.

I took the night off from the gym tonight, which was good because my blood sugar was 49 when I got home from work. The real reason I skipped, however, was because the pizza place down the street was giving out free pizzas to anyone who brought their dog into the store. So The Man and I took the dog children on a trip to the pizza place. They got dinner for us. Well, dinner and lunch tomorrow for The Man. I was strong and didn't eat any. I had a peanut butter and coconut oil sandwich and an orange.

We ran into one of the doctors from work, who had her dog and twin sons, all eating free pizza. The boys then proceeded to feed my dogs large pieces of their pizza and laughing hysterically. We quickly took our leave, and thankfully the dogs didn't get the runs in my car on the way home. They had a wonderful time on their road trip though. I thought it was really cool for the pizza place to do that too. I'll totally give them my money sometime in the future, when I have some.

Someday.

Takin' it Easy

2009-10-27T13:02:00.002-05:00

Wow, what a blood sugar roller coaster I rode last night. I went to the gym last night, which made my blood sugar go low (46) shortly afterward. I ate a lot of protein at dinner, hoping that would keep the sugars from dropping again overnight. It didn't work.

I woke up a few hours after going to bed, and was at 50. I drank twice as much orange juice as I normally do to treat a low, and I also ate some bread and cheese, again hoping that I would not drop again. That definitely worked.

I woke up a few hours later to go to the bathroom, tested my blood sugar for fun, and it was 426. Yeah. My plan worked way too well. I have the insulin to correct my mistake, and slept until about 9am. I rolled out of bed, feeling like I had been run over by a large automobile of some kind, and tested my blood sugar again.

49

What the FRICK?!

It's been several weeks since I've bounced around that much, and I have not missed this hangover feeling at all. Fortunately, today is my day off, and I can take it easy today and get myself stabilized. And that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm forced to change the world from my couch today, and in between naps, that's just what I'm going to do.

I'm calling my new exercise plan "the final frontier" of my new diabetes control plan. I will be quite healthy once I figure out how to get the exercise I need without sending my blood sugars into a flying circus frenzy afterward. Going to try again today. Later. After nap time.

Today's Thought Collage

2009-10-26T20:40:00.006-05:00

I went to the gym today after a three week insulin-pump-orientation hiatus. Okay, if we're being honest, two week insulin-pump-orientation hiatus, one week procrastination. I'm frustrated that even though my blood sugar numbers are almost always where they should be, the number on my bathroom scale keeps going up.

On a deep level, I feel better overall, and that is more important to me than the number on the scale. On a more shallow, louder, and more persistent level, MY CLOTHES DON'T FIT AND IT SUCKS! My jeans, formerly known as the "chubby jeans" barely button, and when they do they slowly vivisect me as long as I wear them. The fact that I wear scrubs to work every day greatly reduces my stress of my shallow anxiety.

But seriously. I feel a hundred times healthier than I have in years. With my stomach fat gracefully leaning over my belt.

I'm trying to focus on the health factor when building my gym habits back up. The Man comes with me to work out, and that makes a whole world of difference. Also, since my dog ate my iPod, and since I don't watch football or BET (which are the only things ever playing on the apartment's gym TV) I have mastered the art of simultaneous reading/stairmastering. It makes time fly.

In other news, I found a house today that I am in love with and want to raise my family in. I'm already in contact with a real estate agent, but the only catch is that we're not really looking to buy a house for another year. Maybe more. But a girl with an impending husband and family can dream. (Note: I am not currently engaged or pregnant.) Especially when the house in her dream is in her favorite neighborhood and looks like this:

Martini Shaker Brain Chemistry

2009-10-25T19:29:00.003-05:00

I don't have enough money until next Friday to get 2 of my daily medications filled. I managed to fill the ones with the most severe withdrawal symptoms if I skip, but it's been 2 days without those other 2 meds, and it's messing with my head. I'm going to be okay, no major side effects beyond the annoying ones of crying fits, mood swings, headaches, and mild mental fogginess.

The small frustrations seem huge. The money stress feels heavier than normal. I feel...less. I don't care if the blood sugars fly out of control. Are there really people who live normal healthy lives without the help of medication? That's an impossible thought.

I'll live.

I'm Too Ditzy to Have This Many Health Problems

2009-10-24T12:23:00.002-05:00

I woke up this morning with a blood sugar of 140. I was so proud of myself for getting through the night after a high fat dinner and coming out semi-close to normal. Also, I slept later than I have in years, skipped breakfast, and my blood sugar was STILL normal. I was rocking it.

I had pancakes for lunch, made from scratch by The Man (awesome), and sat back and revelled in my awesomeness. Then I fell asleep while reading my book and ended up sleeping for about 5 hours. That was weird. I was exhausted from the work week, but I didn't think I needed that much sleep. Long about 6pm when I dazedly rolled out of bed again, I realized that along with breakfast, I had skipped over all of my morning medications.

That explains the sleeping, and the inside-out-brain feeling I'm still having. There are medications that I take every day that I can't skip. I can't even miss the dose by an hour, or it makes me feel awful.

Well, at least I conquered one medical maintenance front today. I feel pretty shitty at the moment, and I may not sleep tonight, but at least my blood sugars are good. That's something, right?

Why I Want a House With a Yard and a Garden Hose, Or Lots of Money

2009-10-23T23:36:00.005-05:00

Can I tell you why my back hurts?

My back hurts because I've been wearing shoes with thin soles and very little arch support for 12 hours a day while I'm on my feet at work.

Can I tell you why I'm wearing thin soled shoes with no arch support?

I'm wearing thin soled shoes that misalign my spine because one of my good, comfortable, supportive shoes has dog poop caked onto the bottom. It's been on there for 4 days and the shoe is still sitting on my front porch.

Can I tell you why it's still on the porch?

I don't want to clean it.

The Need for Clean Returns

2009-10-22T18:16:00.003-05:00

One of the doctors at work said that my new haircut made me look like Jennifer Garner. I can definitely live with that.

The blood sugars have stayed under control again today, with the exception of a 202 in mid-afternoon. That was probably for the fun-size Butterfinger I ate and didn't give enough insulin for. Now I'm home and I'm cleaning. For some reason I feel that this is a very high and immediate priority. I'm doing laundry, cleaning the kitchen, doing dishes, cleaned the bathroom, cleaned off the mountain of random stuff from the coffee table, and picked all the dog toys up from the floor.

The Man won't be home for a few hours, and I'm having trouble finding the motivation to sit down and unwind from the busy work day. Instead I'm cleaning. This blog post has not been interesting...except the part about me looking like Jennifer Garner. Happy for another day of successful health control. And tomorrow's finally Friday.

Snoopy Will Live!

2009-10-22T12:58:00.003-05:00

I know Snoopy was supposed to be a Beagle, but in my world Snoopy is a cat. She's an 18 year old sweet black cat who came to the clinic with a malignant tumor on the inside of her eyelid which was not only getting bigger by the day, but it had potential to spread to other organs in her body, and quickly. The only way she could survive is if we surgically removed the tumor while we still could.

Snoopy also has a grade 5 heart murmur and only 1 functioning kidney...which is failing. In order to put an animal under anesthesia, we always check 2 organ functions to make sure their bodies can safely deal with the anesthesia: the heart and the kidneys. So she had two large strikes against her chances of survival.

However, neither the owner nor the doctor was ready to give up on the cat. The owner made the painful and expensive decision to try surgery and give Snoopy every chance she has to stay with them. When dad dropped her off with us this morning, he was sobbing. Grown men who love their pets enough to cry over them always get to me. We all knew it might be the last time he'd ever see her.

I had seen Snoopy many of the times that she had come in for her exams, so she knew me. She came trotting to the front of the kennel every time I walked by. I put her IV catheter in, and then I had a little talk with her as she hid her face in my armpit.

"Listen, little one, your dad needs you to stay around a little longer, so I need you to be strong through this okay? You are not allowed to die yet, got it?" She meowed.

We gave her sedation medications, and I placed her endotracheal tube in her tiny throat while assembling every piece of monitoring equipment, including two extra techs, that I could find. If her temperature dropped a tenth of a point, I had someone STAT me the warm air blower. When her heart rate dropped 30 points I had three people helping me figure out why and fix it. When the doctor accidentally leaned on her breathing bag during surgery I yelled at him. Scared the shit out of everyone, but COME ON.

The surgery last two hours, and we were on pins and needles the entire time. Every 10 minutes or so the techs from up front would walk by the surgery window to see if Snoopy was making it through. I had her blood pressure in the target range, her heart rate stable, and her temperature in the normal range. When the doctor finished surgery, he took the sterile drapes from over her head, and exclaimed happily about how pink her tongue was and how well she was maintaining her body temperature.

"Wow, good job, guys!" he said to me and the other 2 techs I forced to stay in there and work on the cat with me. The compliment was rare and meaningful. None of us expected her to do this well. She continued to wake up from anesthesia without incident, and will be ready to go home in a few hours.

I was just happy that Snoopy listened to me. Sometimes I feel like I talk and talk and talk, and these animals aren't even listening. I'm not just talking for my own health, here, guys!
Now I'm heading back to work, where I get to discharge Snoopy to a very very very happy daddy.

Diabetes, a.k.a. My Bitch

2009-10-21T18:55:00.004-05:00

I would like to report that my highest blood sugar all day was 186, a post-lunch reading. Even that was a big jump from the steady 76-99 range I maintained for the rest of the day. My head is clearer, my energy sustained, and damn it if I wasn't at least 8% more productive at work.

The only problem is that I can't see.

My supply of contact lenses is in a prescription that was based on my chronic erratic blood sugar eyesight. High blood sugar changes the refraction in your vision, which necessitates stronger prescriptions. So, even after just two days of tight blood sugar control, my vision has improved and rendered my contacts nauseatingly strong. I wore my glasses all day, which are a slightly more accurate prescription, but still left me seasick after wearing them for more than an hour or so at a time.

My favorite part, though, was walking into work with a new haircut and wearing glasses. When I clocked in, the office manager asked if she could help me find anything, two of the doctors asked around to find out when they hired a new tech, and one of the receptionists had to look at the insulin pump on my belt before realizing it was me. I found my clients to be 10x more attentive when I gave them medication and postoperative instructions, and the Dragon Lady, who runs the surgical center with whom our clinic shares space, told me that I look intimidating, like someone who's "gonna get things done!" I can live with that.

There are a few coworkers who say things like, "At least your glasses make you LOOK smart," while chuckling at me for forgetting our fax number during a phone call and yelling down the hall (without putting the call on hold) for someone to tell me what it is. Those are the people I enjoy working with- the ones who have the ability to distribute sarcasm well. I need it when I have to sit 3 inches from a computer screen before I can read anything, and I can't tell a cocker spaniel from a golden retriever until it's close enough to pee on my shoe. It's a problem that has a bright side, because it means my eyes are getting better, which means that my hard work is paying off.

For the most part, my work days feel like a blur of dispersing and/or preventing moments of frustration. My job is demanding and challenging, and I work very hard every day. My diabetes is also challenging and demanding, and more constant than anything else in my life. On days like today, when my diabetes is my bitch, dealing with everything else is cake. Give me 3 post-surgical patients having complications, 6 more to discharge or check in, 4 phone lines with irate clients on hold, and a short staff of coworkers who would rather read People magazine than do their jobs, and tell me everything has to be done in the next 20 minutes or I'm fired...not a problem. I'll have it done in 15.

The things that overwhelm me when my health is out of control lose their power on days like today. Until I live like this consistently, living every day like with the non-diabetic level of control I had yesterday and today, I use the clarity the good health allows me to make plans. I have the goals, now I can make the plans. More on the goals and plans later.

Now, I am tired, and I want to put on pajamas and watch my Wednesday TV show. Which is exactly what I'm going to do.
See how that works?
Goal= let talented people entertain me while I wear pajamas at the end of a long day.
Plan= put on pajamas, turn on GLEE, be entertained. Diabetes control is great.

Back in Ctrl

2009-10-20T08:43:00.004-05:00

When I called the dr last night and told her how I needed her to help me, she was immediately on board. We came up with a plan to change my regimen the way I wanted to change it, and none of it involved the insulin pump coordinator sent to me by the pump company.

The lady that the company sent came to my house and showed me how to use the pump and how to change the infusion sets and how to order supplies, and all of that was great, a huge help. But that's where the effective helped stopped for me. She called me every day to follow up on my blood sugar readings and made adjustments to the insulin levels. I thought it was nice of her to call every day, but was quickly frustrated. I was frustrated because the changes she made didn't make a difference in my blood sugars, and also because I didn't feel like she listened to me. She's used to working with people who are first time pump users and people who haven't had diabetes for a few months, let alone a few decades. I was in neither of those categories, but she treated me like I was.

Also, if I happened to miss her call and didn't call her back within a half hour, she called again and left panicked voicemail messages saying to PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE call her back because she's SO worried I'm in a ditch somewhere or something. Geez, woman. First of all, the company employed you to help me set up my insulin pump, not to become my Jewish mother. Second of all, I've managed to spend almost 30 years returning phone calls while never once finding myself incapacitated in a ditch. You need to chill out.

Anyway, she does good work, it just didn't help me. So I called her and thanked for all of her help and support, but said my doctor and I were going to be working together from now on. She said she wanted the best for me and wished me good luck in the future. It was about as amicable of a breakup and one can hope for, and now I'm on my way back to better health again.

I have to write down all of my blood sugars, insulin levels, everything I eat or drink, any activity I do, and any stress I experience for the next 2 days and fax the information to my doctor. Then I am to call her in the evening on her personal cell phone, and we will work on a plan. Then I do it all again the next 2 days, and so on. No more carbohydrate counting, which undid everything I had done to get my blood sugar control back. No more frantic voicemails from a woman I don't know, who spends a lot of time fretting about my wellbeing. Moving on to days of feeling like myself again, so I have the strength to do what I love doing and make this lifetime productive.

Those sincere words would be a great place to end this post, but I am very excited about the fact that I'm getting my hair cut in a few hours. It's been a few years since I've done anything interesting to my hair, and I'm looking at it as a celebration of getting control of my life back. I couldn't think of a good segue from the doctor story, so I just decided to tack it on the end here. I like to forego the segue sometimes to keep things interesting.

It's going to be a good day.

Unlisten THIS!

2009-10-19T18:28:00.007-05:00

I'm feeling very frustrated and unheard right now. The frustration is understandable, but the rest may be a bit unfounded. People are listening, people care, but it doesn't ease any of my frustration.

I've worked my ass off for 4 years trying to get my medical insurance back after my ill-fated move to California, where I had jobs that didn't offer insurance, several years ago. I wanted my insurance back specifically so I could afford to see an endocrinologist, specifically so that I could get back on an insulin pump. Eventually I got my medical insurance, I got my endocrinologist, I worked and worked and got my blood sugar control back, and then I got my insulin pump. All of this through much blood sweat and tears.

However, now that I finally have my insulin pump, I have completely lost all control of my blood sugars, which makes me lose all sense of control over my life. If I can't control my blood sugars I will die, and then the rest of it doesn't really mean all that much. I can eat well one day, and my blood sugar will go from 360 to 66 in 3 hours. I can eat badly another day, and my blood sugar will go from 110 to 390 to 76 in 3 hours.

I. HATE. IT.

Two weeks ago I was testing my blood sugar 10 times a day and giving myself 6-10 injections a day. I had worked on a diet that had very predictable effects on my blood sugar, and though I would have an occasional afternoon of running in the low 200's, I got to where I had consistent normal readings. Now I am testing my blood sugar 12-15 times a day, giving myself one injection every 3 days, but giving insulin 24 hours a day, and my blood sugars don't know their ass from a hole in the ground.

Wait, do blood sugars have asses?

Wait, who cares? This is my metaphor.

I just want the control back. I want the peace of mind that comes along with knowing that my body isn't eating itself all day long. In a few minutes I am going to call my doctor and tell her that I need to change something. I actually have a very specific plan for what I want to change, I just need her to tell me how to do it. The way they are currently calculating my insulin dosages doesn't feel right to me. I think know why, and I know how I want to try to fix it. But I have a hard time communicating with my doctor about these things, partly because English is her second language, and partly because any time I tell her a frustration of mine, she cuts me off and tells me that if I did things the way I was supposed to I wouldn't have these problems. Then I try to tell the insulin pump nurse, who calls me every day to check and adjust my levels, that I don't like the way this is going, she tells me to calm down and give it a chance.

So okay, I'm sorry if you think I'm being reactionary and impatient, but I am not going to "wait out" a plan that is making me feel like a runny pile of dog shit all the time! I'm not giving up on the idea of pump therapy, I'm just questioning the protocols. I can change it by doing it my way, I just need you to listen to me and work with me! Stop telling me what to do and trying to talk me out of my frustrations, and start asking me what I want. Then help me figure out how to get there. I don't need anyone else to unlisten to my feelings.

Man, I feel like such a girl when I make references to talking about my feelings.

Now I'm going to sign off of here and call my doctor, where I will both listen and be heard. I already fear that the phone call will leave me frustrated. But I'm going to try anyway.

Lunch Breaking

2009-10-19T12:36:00.002-05:00

I have a sunburn on my nose and collar bone from going to the fair yesterday. Those are the only places I am sunburned. That, and a small spot on my left cheek. White people are WEIRD.

I woke up with a blood sugar that was over 300 this morning after going to bed with a blood sugar of 76. It was like waking up with a hangover, but never making the choice to party first. So my head feels like it's going to explode, everything I eat makes the level fly out of control, and I've been pooped on by every one of my surgery patients this morning.

Then, I came home for lunch and The Man got me a Corner Bakery salad, had GLEE playing on TV for me, and had all the windows in the apartment open. It was a welcome respite from the demanding chaos I work in. Then I took the dogs outside and the terrier rolled around in a pool of some other dog's poo, which was AWESOME to clean up.

It's so beautiful outside that I have no desire to go back to my windowless work building and clean up more poop. But I have chosen this fate for myself, so, with my chin up, I will go back and face the music. (There's no music in the building either.) Crossing my fingers for a blood sugar drama free afternoon.

Wrenching Open the Floodgates

2009-10-18T18:57:00.003-05:00

I don't know how to start writing again after taking a few years off. All I know is that being able to put my thought into words and sentences, some of them complete, and look at them on a screen is extremely therapeutic. So I'm doing the best thing I can think of, and I'm just going to start talking. Er, typing. I'm not going to address anyone, or even imagine an audience, I'm just going to say what's on my mind. I will probably hate all of it, even as I say it, but I will not censor or delete.

I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by my life right now in the sense that I don't feel like I can get ahead of anything. I started using an insulin pump 2 weeks ago instead of multiple daily injections, and though the pump is supposed to give me the tightest diabetes control I can hope for, it has turned my sense of control upside down. I knew there was going to be a period of trial and error to adjust the pump's insulin levels and find what works, but so far it hasn't worked. Any time I eat food, and sometimes when I don't, my blood sugars bounce up and down uncontrollably. I've stopped eating fast food, I've given up all artificial sweeteners, I've given up caffeine, I've given up most processed foods in general, but my levels still aren't good. I can't get ahead of my diabetes.

I can't get ahead of my money, a common sentiment of my peers these days. My paycheck is spent before I get it, which leaves me nothing left to put in savings for the future. And like it or not, I do intend to have a future. One involving home ownership and marriage and a family and a college fund or two...if only I can get ahead of the bills one of these days. I did just pay my car off (yay!) and that will give me a little room to breathe pretty soon.

I also can't get ahead of the laundry. I mean seriously, are we changing clothes six times a day and don't know it? I run the washer all the time, and still the dirty clothes piles are becoming a fire hazard.

Anyway, money is a constant stress and probably always will be, and that's okay. The most important thing is the laundry getting done. No, wait, that can't be right. The most important thing is getting my diabetes under my heel so I can finally feel better. When that stress on my body is lifted I will be able to feel like myself again, which would be pretty nice, because I kind of miss myself. I'm pretty cool when I'm not doped up on hyperglycemia. But I found a man who loves me no matter what my blood sugar is or how it makes me act, no matter what I look like in the morning, and no matter how many times my dogs pee on his socks. For that, I consider myself pretty damn lucky