what. a. Tuesday.
Today is Tuesday, right?
I don't know if it's the "cold" or the time change or what, but at night, after I eat supper, I feel like I've had 2 or 3 Benedryls. It is all I can DO to stay awake. Boo.
So, last night, I was excited to be goin to bed at
Well, there certainly won't no need in gettin excited. Because I woke up SIX times to Peggy singin DOO DOO DOOOOO and her gettin her vibrate on. Thank you, Peggy the Pump. EVERY TIME I corrected the high BS (blood sugars ;) ), it'd beep again in 2 hours, EVEN HIGHER THAN BEFORE. Awesome. Thank you. All the while feelin like I'm gonna ralph, as this is one of the side effects of high BS. What THE deuce?
Bein high just continues on into my work day ... yep, higher and higher. Then, a magical NO DELIVERY message on my pump, AND double arrows up, which = "yo blood sugar is goin up not just real fast, but SUPA fast, girl! You betta handle dis!" Life is more fun when you imagine your insulin pump has a personality and talks like a middle aged black woman.
Bottom line, I had to leave work. Thank God I work with people who understand that diabetes can be unpredictable, and it's something that needs to be dealt with right away.
Went home. Changed the whole pump site. Looked like something maybe stuck in the reservoir set. My tissue/flesh? Sure, let's go with that. Who knows?
Upload sugars online so my endo can look at em.
Type her up a long explanation of all the temporary basals and adjustments I've been making to accomodate for my hormones doing special shiz to my blood sugars so that when she looks at the sugars, she will have some foggy clue (hopefully) of what she is lookin at. Fingers crossed.
Email said explanation to my mama so she can fax it to the dr. from her work b/c I am no longer at work, and we gots no fax machine at home, annnnnd, my dr. doesn't do email because of some HIPAA sitch. But wait - she can't open it because it's some doc type that her Adobe doesn't like. Ugh! Oh! This just in - it opens in google docs. Thank you for bein your own man, google.
I want y'all to know that right now, as I am tryin to type this post, my 80 lb. black lab has crawled across my lap, like he might be some tiny pug or somethin. What isssss the deal? Needy. And he's been with me half the day.
At least I am certain Sir Bro Bro loves me regardless of my diabeetus or ugly TB arm bubble. He has regained control of himself and is now back in the floor.
Movin on ..
Drive to HR for my work to pick up a packet for orientation, where I am photographed, and asked to submit my license into some machine to verify my ID before I am allowed back there. TO PICK UP AN ORIENTATION PACKET in a manilla envelope. No, I don't work for the FBI. Whaaaaaaaaat? Have we officially reached balla status around here or what?
Stop at Chicfila for a low carb meal so I can hopefully keep my blood sugars below 300 until my dr (hopefully) figures out something that makes sense.
Fly to the urgent care so I can get a required TB test for job which is required prior to orientation.
Get flu shot while I'm there.
Go to CVS to get Rx that is totally unrelated to the madness, I guess. Wait. Have cute redheaded pharmacist in her lil pearl earrings come to the window and immediately start tellin me about how she's tryin to override somethin or other but the medicaid this and that. Say Wha? I hated to interrupt her, but I had to. I was like, "Honey, I don't have any idea what you're talkin about. I just pulled up. I need to pick up the prescription I called in earlier." Bless her heart. She was so embarrassed. I have noticed I have started to call people "Honey" lately, even when they are at least 10 years older than me. What is happening to me?
Now, here I am. At home with the dog. Chillin. Feelin like my blood is low because it's been so high for so long that normal levels feel whack. We'll see how long they stay like this before decidin to get high again. I am not a fan. Get over yourself, estrogen-insulin resistance.