Tuesday, September 01, 2015

September oneth...

the grass is
not because summer ends
but because it
won't easily let go
and thus 
sucks the green
from every blade.

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Suicidal or Stupid...

I vote for Stupid.

I take two different types of insulin. 
One is a long-lasting insulin (Lantus) that I inject once a day. 
I draw 28 units from a vial. The other (NovoLog) is a quick-
acting insulin that I inject before meals, at 10 units per

The NovoLog was in easy to use injector pens but when I ran
out of those, the vials are much cheaper, so I switched to
drawing those 10 units from a vial, using single-use syringes. 

So, the first day using the vials for both meds, I dutifully inject
both before breakfast. That morning's blood sugar reading
was a very respectable 113. 

Less than three hours later my stomach was growling, which is
much sooner than usual for me to feel even a little bit hungry.
But, I chalk it up to 'no big deal' and decide to check my sugar 
level (as I always do before meals) and fix myself a PB&J 
sammich to eat after the pre-lunch injection. I was very surprised
to see that my sugar level had dropped to 56. Not good. Mid-day
readings usually run between 90-120 for me. Still... no big deal,
think I. I do the NovoLog injection and start eating lunch.

Before I'm half-way done with my sandwich I start shaking and
sweating and getting woozy. That's happened a few times before
and it means my sugar level is too low, but it usually happens 
because I didn't eat enough or I've waited too long since the last meal. 

So, I get some OJ and chug down 4 or 5 ounces to bring up my
sugar level. I'm getting nervous because the symptoms are NOT
getting better... and then it hits me... I've OD'd my stupid self on
NovoLog. Instead of drawing 10 units, I drew 28 like I was used 
to doing with the Lantus vial. And then I did it again before lunch.

So I've used 56 units instead of 20. I'm thinking I might die.
I open a bottle of Coke and sip it quickly while my sister is
heating up a bowl of spaghetti and then I start to devour that
while trying really hard not to go into full-blown panic mode.
It takes almost half an hour before the shaking and sweating start
to subside. I finish half the Coke, wait about ten minutes and
check blood sugar again. With a sigh of relief, I see it's reading 119.

I skip the third injection before dinner because I've already had
almost double what I should have taken all day and my sugar level
had dropped to 70 by 4:30. This is a great excuse for stuffing my
face with more spaghetti and another half Coke and some grapes
for dessert. At 7:00 blood sugar is 146. At 11:15 it's 112 so I 
have a few cashews and hope that's enough to keep me from 
going into a coma while I'm sleeping. Need I say I didn't sleep well?

Need I say I am being very, very careful about measuring doses?

p.s. I have Medicaid now, so that's helping financially.
Still in search of competent medical practitioners.

Still wondering how I got to be so stupid.

Sunday, August 02, 2015

Four siblings selfie...

Ann, Carol, me and Tom.
Tom treated us to a baseball game in Akron...
the RubberDucks, one of Cleveland's
minor league teams. 
This was in June, shortly after I got out of the hospital. 
Much fun.
Just so you know I do get out and play once in a while.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

It's easy to forget...

I've been whining a lot lately.

I still don't have insurance because Medicaid has been dragging
its' ass since May. That means I've had to pay 100% out of pocket
for all my diabetes meds and supplies. I can't afford to do that
much longer. Medicaid doesn't care.
Plus, I owe about $40,000 in hospital and doctor bills.
Medicaid doesn't care about that, either. 

 Oh, and... the quack I was assigned to in the hospital is a moron.

The second reason I wish Medicaid would hurry the fuck up is
so I can find a new doctor with at least half a functioning brain.

Then, the other day, I got slapped upside the head, figuratively
speaking; A friend I've known for nearly 40 years was recently
diagnosed with brain, lung and bone cancer. Stage 4. 
Someone emailed a photo of him. I would not have
recognized him if I hadn't been told who it was. 
He looks like a Nazi death camp survivor. Skin over skeleton.

It breaks my heart. And it makes me ashamed of myself.

Life is short and time is so easily wasted.