Running on ‘E’


Good Morning! Hope you are well. Young Master Duke is stretched out to get some rest. My beloved is watching a show. I’m waiting for the batteries to recharge. I’ve noticed lately that I’m just wore out. Last night was another 3 hours sleep night. I woke up feeling like I’d been in a rock tumbler instead of bed for multiple hours. Though this particular rock tumbler seems to be as massive as the cement mixers that Mythbusters used to blow up.

Maybe it feels like I was inside the particular cement mixer that they sent to orbit. Oh well. I’m waiting for certain joints to pop. I’m not exactly in the financial situation to be able to have a massage therapist, a physical therapist and a back cracker on duty 24/7. Heck, back crackers aren’t covered by my insurance. The last one I saw scared the tar out of me. I’d been in an accident. She told another lady in the same accident that I would be in a wheelchair by age 40. I showed her, it was in my middle 40’s. Snort.

So, how does a chubby old lady recharge her batteries? Let’s begin at the beginning. I have a 1 gallon ziplock bag of medications that help my body keep on. Diabetes meds, 3 of them, are important. Then there are blood pressure pills, cholesterol pills and the supplements to reduce inflammation. There’s the supplements to help my brain keep functioning, and lastly the generic midol. The last one, is about the only thing I take for pain.

Now let’s talk about keeping my brain working. Yes, I take magnesium for that, but I also take coffee, and the occasional energy drink. There are days when it is 2 energy drinks. However, I find that I can think better with the energy drinks. My brain is the only thing I have. The coffee is also medicinal. I’m a homicidal wench without it.

Nicotine, helps with the depression. Whatever chemicals that I haven’t had in my brain naturally is replaced by whatever nicotine does. I’m tempted to switch to just patches at this point. It is cheaper than the method I currently use. Tapering off, while living with a smoker would not be choice or freaking easy.

Now, let’s talk about actual recharging of the batteries, so far, I’ve written about maintenance. I don’t do yoga. The poses in yoga are physically impossible. What I do do is stretches. I use my cane to help keep my shoulders from completely locking. I work on it after the midol has a chance to start easing up the pain. Whatever endorphins are released, along with increased range of motion, are a plus.

I wish I could work, I wish I could walk. I wish I could climb trees and go on hikes through my favorite park again. Not going to happen. Heck, I wish I could drive awhile in order to get from point A to point B. However, wishes don’t recharge my batteries. Also, there are no call centers available for me to work at within 60 miles.

So, other methods. I play online games. I listen to music. Okay Rob Zombie is a thing. So is Clanadonia. I nap. When I can, I take a bath. I watch videos on how to do intricate stitch wizardry. All of these recharge the batteries.

However, the A+++ of all of the techniques I use to recharge? Napping with Young Master Duke. Which is where I’m heading right now. Take care my friends. I have a pupper unit who must be snuggled. I will bug you again soonest. -L

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A difference.


Morning all, hope you are well. Young Master Duke is napping, and we survived the night.

Diabetes is an evil rat bastard. I found myself in a reaction not once but twice last night. During a reaction, I zone out. Then I start sweatting and get dizzy. Soon enough, I pass out if not treated.

That said, with the dizzy comes nausea and other issues. The solution to a reaction is to eat and drink sweet things. The problem, that nausea. Yesterday’s rearrange in the kitchen ended up a blessing. Having the wheelchair in there, made a reaction situation much easier to deal with.

I wasn’t fighting pain, nausea and dizzy at the same time. Granted, the nausea was evil, and yet… I survived the night.

2 things I use for rapid survival mode. Tang Breakfast Drink, and a similar one from Welches. I can drink those until I am able to eat. It’s quick sugar, not a long acting carbohydrate, but it buys me enough time to get something in me.

That’s about it. I know, a little gruesome this morning. But the thing is, without the kitchen change yesterday, I probably wouldn’t have been able to deal with this on my own.

Why doesn’t the Hubs help me? He never has with the diabetes. He still thinks it’s a myth or a lie I perpetuate. Oh well. Life gets teejus. -L

Spoons


Morning all, have been posting from bed lately, and I am sorry. Today I am up for a bit at the desk, and thought I would bring you up to speed.

I woke at just close to 1 this afternoon. I’d finally fallen asleep at about 2:30. I have a device that tracks my sleep, and that is what it tells me. I probably could have gotten up for the day at 8:30, but my body said “Oh hell no, git yer arse back to bed.” I’d gotten up to head to the necessary. Having a bladder the size of an acorn does help in life, I swear, it means that I don’t need an alarm clock.

I desperately need a shower, but am worried that I don’t have enough spoons to get the job done. My husband is in that same boat. We do use daily sponge baths so to speak, but a shower just resets the body somehow. I know that the hot water would be a blessing, but I don’t want to crash to bed for 4 hours afterwards.

Diabetically, my blood sugars are back through the roof. It’s just too much sometimes. I know that stress and pain raise blood sugars, and even intermittant fasting doesn’t help. So, I do the best I can, and pray for the rest.

Measuring out the spoons for the day is a rat bastard. I have to have enough spoons to make it through the ‘normal’ activities. Yet there are times even going to the necessary takes 5 frigging spoons per visit. There are days I long for someone to take care of me, but then again, there are days that I remember what it was like working in long term care.

The catch-22. I’m an addict. Therefore, for pain management, I am behind the 8 ball. There are no medications I can take that will improve my quality of life. While the flares are through the roof, I am screwed. I can’t camp, sitting in the back yard under a tent is a major spoon withdrawal point at times. Other times, I sit out there in defiance of my body.

That’s really what’s going on. In defiance of the spoons, and in defiance of my body, I get things done. I guess, I’m just thinking this through as I write. I know that the flares get worse as time goes on. Yet that proposed camping trip to the backyard is still giving me hope.

I’m just waiting for when the high temp for the day is in the 60’s and the lows are in the 40’s again. I’m looking forward to it.

Meanwhile, I suppose I better go lay back down and zone out for a few. Please take care, -L

Insulin Rationing


Morning all, have to fly out the door in too soon of a time, but wanted to strike while the iron was hot so to speak.

I’ve been rationing insulin for decades. As a Medicare patient, my insulin is not covered by Medicare. I had to choose between a plan that would cover some of my meds 100% and not the insulin, or a plan that would cover few of my meds. It costs more per month.

Well, this month, my insulin rationing is saving my life. There are not enough shekels in order to cover both insulin and food. There are not enough shekels to cover insulin, food, and fuel for the vehicle. So, insulin has to wait.

Some vehicle uses have to wait.

Some food has to wait.

It’s a give and take thing. There aren’t programs that help, because we still make too much over the poverty level.

It’s life, however, I do have enough insulin to get through the month. That’s what matters.

There are other things in the world much more important for folks to worry about. My getting insulin isn’t a crisis right now. Hope you are well. I better get going. Take care. -L

Diabetes in 2022 for this disabled woman


Morning all, it’s July outside and December inside. The cold flashes continue, and regulating my body temperature is entertaining at best.

I started the year off with the expectation that the Dexcom G6 would be a blessing and a help. I called it the snitch. It was both wonderful and horrible.

The good… reported my blood sugars to my Dr.

The bad… innacurate. Had to recalibrate more often than not. Caused me to blister, and the pharmacy I went with lied about the costs. It turns out that finger sticking was much much cheaper even if I tested 10 times per day. (I don’t.)

Since then, I’ve told the pharmacy to shove the Dexcom sideways. They still want money out of me. Of course they do. Not disclising upfront the exact costs does this. Sighs.

Since then. I still have scars from the blisters. My injection sites occasionally hit a sore spot for insulin. I’ve started injecting in my arms more often. The problem with this is my hands aren’t strong enough to use the pen sometimes. I need to see my Dr for more options.

Meanwhile, my blood sugars are not always perfect. They won’t be. Stress, mood, activity, sleep patterns and millions of other things affect diabetes. Allergies, a simple cold or flu, and even ambient temperature affect diabetes.

It seems that the one thing that has the least affect on my diabetes is testing my blood sugar. That tiny smudge of blood doesn’t raise or lower my sugar, it’s just a test, a report of how my body is doing.

Back in the mid 1990’s, I was treated like a moral defect because I am diabetic. I was treated as if every decision was a sin. The diabetic educator in my town was the worst offender, and I just stopped going. I also stopped caring.

It is 2022. Pain levels other issues and condition aside, I wish I had known then what I know now. Everything affects diabetes in one way or another. It’s not a moral problem, being diabetic. It is a biological problem. My body still produces insulin, on occasion, and occasionally, I get sugar lows.

It is my life. Medical gaslighting by the professionals that were supposed to train me on how to care for my body is not a criminal offense.

Perhaps it should have been. My ony hope is that there is some time in hell for asshats who mistreat the people in their care.

That’s all I have for now my friends. Take care of yourselves. You are the only advocate your body has. -L