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5:28 a.m. - 2002-10-09



So yesterday, I get out of bed. I still have this cold thing going on. My throat is raw and sore. I'm stupid dizzy. And I'm exhausted.

I write my Diaryland entry, back away from the computer and start cleaning house because I have a guy coming by at 7:30 a.m. to write down all the stuff that still needs to be done to the house that they haven't corrected.

He shows up. I walk him through the house and point out all the little things that need to be done. He writes it all down and says that he'll line up all the people that need to come out to fix the stuff that needs to be done in the house. He leaves.

I collapse on the couch. The room. It be spinning.

At 8:05, I get in the car and drive to work.

I arrive at 8:30. I sit down at my office and grip my computer monitor as it looks like it's about to slide sideways off my desk.

I work. I write. I actually get some damned decent writing done. All about a company in Atlanta that does .... well ... to be honest ... I don't even remember what it does. Something to do with wiring or something. It was so incredibly boring that it ran screaming from my short term memory bank, never to visit there again.

At this point, it's 11:30 a.m. I feel like death warmed over. Granted, I'll admit...I'm a baby when I'm sick. This is because I'm a male.

But kids...I was REALLY sick. Walking-into-walls sick. It felt like the flu.

Everyone who saw me said I looked like crap. That was all the input I needed. I left work at 11:45 to go to the doctor.

I drive to church first to update the website there. This goes fairly quickly and smooth. I'm so happy that I thank God for this, since I'm in His house and everything.

I drive to the doctor's office. The waiting room is spinning around like the inside of a blender. Naturally, because I feel like crap, it's close to an hour later that the doctor graces me with his presence. Had I been in for a checkup and feeling great, it would have been less than five minutes and he'd be all up in my face. But because I felt like puke ... an hour.

"How ya doin'," he says to me, he says.

"I feel like crap, doc," I said. "I came in here three weeks ago with a sore throat. You gave me some pills. The throat is now more sore than it was then. I came in last week because I was dizzy and nauseous. You gave me some pills. I'm dizzier and more nauseous today. Today I feel like the inside of a horse's ass. You know the routine."

"How's your blood sugar?" he asked, staring at his charts.


For those of you newbies who haven't bothered to read all 1,100+ entries I've posted here ... shame on you, first off. Second...I'm diabetic. I was diagnosed last September.

I uhhhhh...I quit checking my blood sugar back in May. I got fed up with checking my blood sugar and having it give me a great reading and then going to the doctor a few hours later and it be through the roof. In my mind, this was some sort of scam by the Medical Association and Accu-Chek...the company that manufactures these expensive blood sugar checker things.

Annnnnd...truth be told ... I've kinda uhhhhhh...well...technically ... I'm in denial about my whole diabetes thing.

It's not like I'm walking around going "Diabetes?? Me??? Nawwww...I ain't got no diabetes."

I know I've got it. And I know how serious it can be.

I just haven't had the time for proper exercise.

Oh...and eating lots of fruits and veggies. Yeah. Fruits and takes longer for me to eat those than it does say....a bowl of sugarless ice cream. So, in order to save time, I eat the ice cream (which...believe it or not...sugarless ice cream isn't that bad).

I look the doc straight in the eye and say "Ah. My blood sugar! It's great, doc. Simply grand."

Naturally, he doesn't believe me because I'm about as convincing as a four year-old with his hand in the cookie jar saying "It's for the dog, Mom."

So he wants to check the blood sugar.

Normal blood sugar is between 90 and 110 for me.



"This...uhhhhh....this isn't good," he says.

I make him take it again. Just to be on the safe side.


Okayyyyyy. Color me convinced.

So I get a lecture on the importance of taking care of my blood sugar. How if I have high blood sugar, it's going to make a common cold seem like the flu. I get all sassy, saying that my glucometer (the blood sugar checker machine) is always off from what the doctor's office glucometer says. He shows me how to recalibrate the machine, which I try to retain in my foggy memory.

I come home. I recalibrate the machine and check my blood sugar.



Rather than munch on carrot sticks and go for a five mile hike, I crawl into bed and pass out cold.

I wake up three hours later when the phone rings from some damned telemarketer.

Susie got home at the amazingly quick hour of 6 p.m. last night. Against my better judgement, we took a family walk that lasted 30 minutes. I had a banana and some yogurt for dinner. And no ice cream.

So at least now I know I'm not just being a whiny baby over the past few weeks. I HAVE been sick. And with this high blood sugar, it intensifies the sickness.

I still feel like crap today. My head is swimming and my stomach's knotted.

But hey...the blood sugar's down to 175.


And there's a chance that I could have mono. I should find out more today.

Man ... I know I have very little room to talk about how cruel you guys can be ... seeing as how you've all learned cruelty from the master ... but I didn't expect the outpouring of "EWWWWWW"s that I got from posting my nephew's pics yesterday.

Yeah...puberty's been kinda cruel to the goofy little bastard.

But it never dawned on me how much he DID look like the androgynous "Pat" from "Saturday Night Live". With the exception of the glasses ... yeah...he's a dead ringer for Pat.

A few people took me to task, saying that the fact that he likes to look at naked women is normal for a kid his age. I'll admit ... when I was 15 I WORE OUT a dog-eared copy of an old Creem magazine that I had bought. Creem was a music magazine that occasionally had some risque photos like pictures of girls butts and stuff. This particular issue not only had a pic of a girl showing off a KISS tattoo on her butt, but also had a picture of an obese woman exposing her left breast. The woman also had an eyepatch. Not exactly primo whack-off material, but when you were 15 in the 70s, you took what you could get.

My whole diatribe against the kid being a perv is the fact that he cannot help himself when it comes to showing restraint in using MY computer to look up porn. If we leave him alone for more than five minutes on the computer, you can bet that Google has been relentlessly molested with requests for "Naked Girl Pictures" and "XXX pictures".

THAT'S what bothers me. What the kid wants to do in the privacy of his own bedroom is cool with me. When he does it sitting in my office chair...that's where I draw the line. apologies are needed for the comments made about my nephew.

I was just kinda ... shocked....that I caught no flack for posting the pics and had so many people come out of the woodwork to join in on the verbal abuse.

But ... like I said...I must have trained you people right, huh?

That's it from here. I've gotta go lay back down. I'm going to try to go to work today.

But I need to get some rest first.

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