current entry older entries message board contact
1:41 p.m. - 2001-09-21


I'm "probably" diabetic.

This is the word coming from the nurse who grabbed my cup o' pee with glee this morning.

I got to the laboratory with four other women. Me, being the only male, could have done some major league flirting ... if I didn't have to sit there, literally holding my urine.

...And if the other women hadn't been senior citizens, pregnant or paying a bit of attention to me.

SO I get called back in the room and the nurse hooks me up with a needle in my arm to withdraw blood.

I think she missed. Something felt weird and it took a while. I looked straight ahead, never taking my eyes off the words "Hazardous materials" on a cardboard box.

She then asked me to go in the bathroom and provide her with a urine sample.

Remembering the last time I had to pee in a cup I was very stingy with my urine and only gave her what I deemed necessary to work with and not a cupful o' piss like I did last time.

So I exit the bathroom and the nurse has disappeared.

I glanced around the room and three of the four women were holding their own respective urine in their hands. One was flaunting hers like it was a mocha cappuchino from Starbuck's.

There's very little in life that is as pointlessly humiliating as standing in a roomful of women holding your pee.

Trust me.

Finally, we were all called back there individually to hand in our pee. I was last, of course, so I had to hold my pee the longest.

Luckily, I have big hands so that I can hold a cup in my hands and it gets buried in there. But was G-R-O-S-S.

So we turn in the pee and I go back, sit down and start reading an Entertainment Weekly. Which is really cool, because I cancelled my subscription a while back and now I just get caught up on everything every time I go to a Doctor's office which seems like every 36 hours or so lately.

So I get called back to the nurse's room and she tells me that my urine is over a thousand.

Over a thousand what?? She wouldn't tell me.

She said that I would NOT be drinking the thick sweet sludge that the ladies were currently chugging down. I was excused to go and needed to make an appointment with my doctor.

I asked her if my urine was good, bad...what?

She said "It means you're probably diabetic."

Okay...this is like the fourth person to beat around the bush with me about my blood sugar and diabetes. For God's sakes people....I'm a big man...I can handle it!

So this afternoon, my doctor's squeezing me in at the end of the day to "tell me something".

Ooooooooo....I wonder what it is...

(Uncle Bob rolls his eyes)

As long as it's diabetes...that can be managed. With proper diet and exercise, I will continue to lead a normal life.

Anyway...that's the "probable" diagnosis. If that's all, I'll breathe a sigh of relief. Like I've told people...I needed a serious push into getting my health back...and this is a serious push.

Went to lunch with Wendigo and Kurt today. And I had a grilled chicken salad with fat free Ranch dressing.

Kurt ate my favorite meal at Tony Roma's....the buffalo chicken sandwich.

I did not weep as I watched him eat it. The thought crossed my mind to reach across the table, grab it from him and swallow it whole.

But I did not weep.

And the salad wasn't bad except it's been about two years since I ate fat free Ranch dressing and I forgot just how much it tasted like watered-down snot.

I can do this.

I want to do this.

Granted... I also want a pizza for dinner tonight.

But I don't want to die.

So I'll probably have a fish filet.


I can hardly fucking wait.

I dunno about you, but I'm looking forward to the big telethon tonight.

If...for no other reason...than to watch Mariah Carey come out on stage and sing "Hero" which is apparently one of her big hit songs that sounds just like all her other hit songs.

Although I've never heard the song in my life, I'm willing to predict that if I close my eyes...I can conjure up the song in my head.

Let's see.


"Because you're my hero

You're everything I need.

I hold you in the morning,


(That's Mariah's squawks that sound like a whale trying to explain to a waiter that he didn't order Salmon, he ordered Salmonella but the waiter doesn't speak whale so he gets a busboy to help him out but the busboy only speaks seal, not whale and everyone laughs heartily at the waiter's expense while the whale won't quit squawking his general anger at anyone who will listen.)

Sorry...I was dozing off while I wrote that paragraph...Diabetes Symptom #1: Constantly tired.

Anyway, I'm tuning in to see A) If Mariah will be wearing something other than a t-shirt and panties and B) See if she'll have a breakdown, live in front of a national television viewing audience.

You never really know with these temperamental divas.

I'll be honest, I can barely concentrate on this thing because of sheer exhaustion.

So it's best that I get off the ride right here.

Y'all have a great weekend and BUY AMERICAN!!

0 comments so far
The last one/The next one

NEW!!!Come and write some BAD EROTICA with the cool kids!

My Diaryland Trading Card
Now go write a Suck Ass Poem™
Write me a note here.
Read my notes here.
Hey! Take the Uncle Bob Quiz!
What the hell! May as well take the wildly popular Uncle Bob Second Quiz too!
Thanks Diaryland
Designed by Lisa


Have you read these?

The End Of Uncle Bob - 12:28 p.m. , 2009-02-19

Losing Focus While Trying To Write A Blog Entry Is Cool. - 1:47 p.m. , 2008-12-04

Buck Up Junior, You Could Be Digging Ditches - 11:36 p.m. , 2008-10-31

That Sinking Feeling - 6:09 a.m. , 2008-10-28

Return Of The Karate Kid And His Slow Kitty-Lovin' Accomplice - 5:44 a.m. , 2008-10-22

Sign up for my Notify List and get email when I update!

powered by

Click on the button below to order the book "Never Threaten To Eat Your Co-Workers: Best of Blogs" featuring Uncle Bob.
You WON'T be sorry.


Read a random entry of mine.