Last Thursday, my son Nathan was at the door getting ready for school. This usually takes place when I’ve already been at work for over an hour, so I generally don’t see his routine. But since Nathan is Nathan, his tendency is to grab his jacket and ski pants off the hanger by pulling down on them. Despite the fact that this usually works out fine for him, this occasion saw the elastic shoulder straps of his ski pants cause the plastic hanger to whip forward and strike him in the face. As is usual when he does something that he ASSUMES will get him in trouble, he told us nothing.
That night, we noticed that his right eyelid was a little bit red and this is where he revealed what had happened that morning. He claimed it didn’t hurt or sting and his vision was fine. I sighed and shook my head at his lack of self-care when walking through his daily routine and let it go. Since he appeared none worse for the wear, I assumed the redness was a result of getting smacked in the face and that was that. When I tucked him in that night, his eyelid was red but still looked normal and he still claimed no pain or stinging.
The next morning on the Friday, I woke up at my usual time (despite having set my alarm for half an hour later) and prepped mine and Nathan’s lunch. Since it was Friday, I opted for a pair of jeans and a casual top to wear with a sports coat while at the office. I left the house, sipping caffeine and glad to have reached the end of the week. I started my work day with ideas of how I would spend my weekend rolling through my head. I was deeply into one of the projects I was working on when my wife sends me this photo…
Apparently sometime during the night, his eyelid went from mildly red to something out of a bad 80’s horror flick where a parasite is setting up shop beneath the surface of the skin. He had been up for almost an hour and chose twenty minutes before his departure to grace his mother with his presence and reveal the look of his face. He still claimed it didn’t hurt or sting but obviously, this would be pause for concern for any parent.
I made the decision that we shouldn’t wait and that it should get looked at immediately. I asked my wife to contact the school and let them know Nathan wouldn’t be in, this morning. I contacted my boss and let him know the situation and I packed up my work gear for the weekend and came home. I grabbed Nathan and we headed to his doctor’s office. It was about a 45-minute wait and it took all of about ten of those minutes for Nathan to start complaining he was bored. If not for the swollen eyelid, one would assume there was absolutely nothing wrong.
When we finally got in to see the doctor, although there was no pain and no loss of vision, the doctor determined that his eyelid was infected. I asked how this could be possible from being struck and he explained that if the hanger had bacteria or was dirty, it could have easily caused an infection. He prescribed an antibiotic that would need to be taken over about a week. Luckily, it’s a liquid and apparently tastes quite nice, so he’s totally game to take it. He tried his damndest to convince me he didn’t need to go back to school. He failed.
It seems as though his eyelid is getting better. But there’s no doubt that kids have this way of eating up several hours of the day for just about anything. To hear him tell it, you’d think there was nothing wrong and he was perfectly willing to head off to school, looking like that. But just look at that photo… He says it didn’t hurt but it hurts ME just looking at it! Kids! The adventure never ends. ☯️
It’s no secret that we make our way through life by a very twisted, convoluted road. And there are plenty of bumps along that road, no matter who you are or the environment you grow up in. But making mistakes can be a good thing. During childhood, these mistakes are seen as “life lessons.” It isn’t until we get older and creep our way into adulthood, do people start to call them “mistakes.” And I think there’s an inherent problem with this view. Although we learn valuable life lessons as children, such as not sticking a fork into a wall socket a second time (no, I’m not speaking from experience), the mistakes we make during adulthood can be valuable and teach us important lessons as well.
People are generally afraid of failing at anything they take on in life. There are many reasons for this, including the potential disappointment of others, one’s family, friends or peers. There’s also the fear that failing at something may cost one more than one is willing to bear. The big problem with viewing the world through this lens is twofold; fear of such failure will leave you stuck in a place you may not want to be and you’ll never experience growth UNLESS you first experience failure. There’s nothing worse than looking back at one’s life and recognizing that you’re stuck in the very same place you’ve always been and have learned nothing.
“Experience Is The Hardest Kind Of Teacher. It Gives You The Test First And The Lesson Afterward.”
– Oscar Wilde
Ultimately, what’s important is the attempt. If you work hard at something, build goals and try and develop yourself and your life but still fail, it’s not a loss. Life has a way of teaching us through our mistakes so that we gain experience, which we wouldn’t if life was smooth sailing without encountering any waves. An apt analogy for a Maritimer, I think! But I digress… The point is that when mistakes are made and losses occur, you can’t change them. You can’t undo them. You can only learn from them and move forward and ensure you don’t repeat these mistakes.
Mistakes are how we learn. If you lose a job, fail a test or exam, injure yourself or hurt someone you care about, it can all hold value so long as you’re willing to learn from it and ensure you don’t repeat the same mistakes. It isn’t rocket science. I’m not spouting off anything new. It’s simply a matter of recognizing that value. You’ll be better for it. And life will become all that much better. ☯️
Despite all the sad, morbid topics I’ve covered in recent days, last week was that time again; I had a scheduled appointment with my endocrinologist. It seemed like September wasn’t that long ago but here we are, six months later! You may recall my post from a couple of weeks ago complaining about the wait times at blood labs and such… This appointment is the result of that blood work.
Visiting my endocrinologist is usually a mixed bag for me. Although eternally grateful for introducing me to the concept of carb counting and getting me on an insulin pump, my doctor is also the one who provides the results and discusses concerns surrounding all things Diabetic. So I never quite know what I might be in for.
One big issue is the uploading of my pump. The doctor’s office requires the uploading of my insulin pump into a database that they can access. Even though this should be a pretty straightforward thing to do, I almost always seem to have issues when I try. So this time, I got smart and uploaded the pump a week prior to my appointment in the event I had issues I had to work through. I was going to upload again the night before until I realized I had foolishly left my link meter at my office, which I required in order to tether the pump to my computer.
I figured, no harm, no fouls, right? Wrong. I was quickly told to surrender my pump so that the admin could upload the last week of readings. I found this a bit tedious since they already had six months of readings. How much of a difference could the past seven days make? Que sera, I was on their time so I turned it over. Maybe I’m just bitter because she also weighed me and announced I had gained two pounds. But I digress…
The past six months have been a bit rough for me, with losing out on one karate school, which messed up my fitness routine, to losing coverage for CGM, which messed up my blood sugar routine, to starting a new karate school, which messed up my fitness routine to getting back on CGM, which will hopefully fix many of my readings… See where I’m goin’ with this? Basically, i knew my blood sugars would be all over the place with some rather significant highs to explain.
When my doctor walked in, we discussed all these issues and he indicated it explained a lot in terms of what my readings showed. He was glad I was taking steps to fix things but he also made a point of saying that despite some of the high readings, I managed to hold my A1C at a reasonable level of 7.3, which is down from a higher reading back in September. I was pleasantly surprised.
He added some further sweetness to a not-so-bitter pill by showing me how my renal function was back to normal, blood pressure was normal, blood circulation and neurological systems were good and I apparently still have the heart of a horse (and no, I don’t mean enlarged, wise ass!). The only caveat to all the good news is that my potassium, of all things, appears to be slightly higher than normal, which will be fixed with a temporary water pill and some changes to my overall diet. I can live with that.
By the time we had reached the end of my appointment, my doctor once again called me one of his most boring patients, since I presented no challenge. He further went on to explain that if I continued on the path I was walking in terms of maintaining Diabetes control, when the time came that died, I would be one of his only patients to die WITH Diabetes instead of dying BECAUSE of Diabetes. I may just get that tattooed on my lower back…
Did I mention that my cholesterol is also down by a full point? I’m sure there’s more but I was basically gushing from the positivity so much that I think I missed some of it. In a current world where there’s so much wrong and suffering, it was nice to have some positivity for a change. AND it justifies all the hard work I put in, maintaining my blood sugars and my fitness. This is something we can all do. One your organs fail or you’re on death’s bed, it’s too late. Better to start improving now so you can appreciate the results later. Food for thought…☯️
Obviously, this past weekend has been a bit of a journey for me… Saying final goodbyes to any family member leaves a lasting cloud over the occasion. I’ve always fancied myself as someone very organized and capable of thinking and planning ahead. Hell, I’ve travelled to Japan and Okinawa without any concern that i was prepared SPECIFICALLY because I can count on myself to be just that: prepared. This weekend taught me just how possible it is for someone to lose their edge when faced without something that divides their mind and spirit.
Our trip started with me leaving work early, last Thursday. This was necessary in order to drop off our sons in Kindersley to spend the following night with their grandparents while we travelled to Alberta for my uncle’s funeral. I left the office in a hurry once my meetings were done and once I was home, I found myself with about an hour of down time since Nathan wasn’t back from school yet. This turned out to be a mistake for a number of reasons. Over the years, I’ve come to discover that I usually function better under pressure. The hour of down time allowed for a small window of time for me to allow my thoughts to drift on the days to come and make a few mistakes…
We took to the road once Nathan was out of school, having picked up some McDonald’s drive-thru to appease the boys while simultaneously ensuring everyone was fed without delaying us at home. We made our way as far as Rosetown, which is only about an hour east from Kindersley. My pump started to vibrate, signalling that it needed a calibration. We pulled into a local coffee chain so that everyone could stretch and get some drinks for the remainder of the trip. That’s when I took my overnight bag apart and realized that during my “down time,” I left my fuckin’ glucometer in my work bag… Thus began the weekend…
I made my peace with the fact that I could feed the pump it’s own sensor readings using the graph to ensure some accuracy. This isn’t ideal and pump trainers will usually say it’s not recommended. But for lack of any other immediate options, it would do. I fed the pump the previous sensor reading and everything went gangbusters for the night as we slept at my wife’s parents’ house for the night. The following morning, we left for Red Deer, Alberta where I would be bidding final farewells to my uncle.
We had originally made arrangements to meet at my aunt’s house first, followed by going to chapel together. However, once we reached the outskirts of Red Deer, my pump vibrated an alarm indicating that my sensor had expired. Fucking lovely! All things considered, this wasn’t the worst situation I’d ever been in AND I just happened to have extras of everything in my bag EXCEPT a glucometer. Luckily, this is a non-prescription item so I was able to find a local pharmacy and pick up a cheap and outdated model of the current meter that uploads to my pump. this one would not, but it would take blood sugars readings to allow the calibration of the new sensor.
We checked into our hotel room and got ready for the service, all of which made us to late to go to my aunt’s first. Murphy’s Law states that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And this is me, we’re talking about… So it should come as no surprise when the damn sensor failed. Despite our best attempts to get the transmitter to connect with then pump properly, the sensor just wasn’t having it. I thought it would be fine, since I had just purchased a new glucometer. I would simply run on manual mode for the weekend until I got back to Regina. THAT part at least, was no big deal…
We attended the chapel and sat through the memorial service, followed by a celebration of life and a meal afterwards. In honour of my uncle’s preference, everyone started with a dessert followed by their meal. It was a great tradition but it was very high-carb. This is why after saying goodbye to my aunt and cousins, we rushed back to the hotel room to test my blood. I had to do a double take to confirm that my glucometer wasn’t in it’s case. I took my overnight bag as well as my wife’s apart to ensure it hadn’t fallen out anywhere. I travelled our route from the car to the room backwards, checking to see if it had bee dropped somewhere. Nada!
I went back to the room and tried to collect my thoughts on what I should do next. It would be about 18 to 20 hours before we would be back in Saskatchewan and I needed either a sensor or a glucometer in order to maintain my blood sugars for that period of time. I really only had one choice: I had to find an open pharmacy that would have a glucometer for sale. Since it was about 9:30 pm, I managed to find a Shoppers Drug mart that was still open. In exchange for purchasing a box of the test strips I usually used at home, they provided me with a basic meter for free, which was all I really needed. I decided to buy a box of FreeStyle Libre, as well. Considering the luck I had been having, I figured having the “poor man’s CGM” in my tricep couldn’t hurt.
The following morning saw us enjoy a lovely breakfast with my family and then we got on the road back to Kindersley. When we were halfway to the Alberta/Saskatchewan border and stopped for fuel and coffee, my wife reaches between her seat and says, “Son of a bitch…” and reveals the first glucometer I had purchased when we reached Red Deer… Now, I own enough glucometers to open my own at-home Diabetes clinic. We made our way onto Kindersley and spent the night there with my wife’s parents. We took to the road for Regina around lunchtime the following day.
Our trip back to Regina was as one might expect; crying and restless kids followed by everyone napping while I drove. We chose take-out for supper, since we were pulling into home during dinner hour and had no idea what was available in our fridge. While eating, we gave Nathan a small Tupperware container that held a half-dozen chewable multi-vitamins. he was to take one, then return it to the kitchen, out of the baby’s reach. Ultimately, he left it sitting on the edge of the dining table, just mere inches away from the baby gate. Alexander (the baby) got a hold of it and ate the remaining vitamins before we realized he had it…
You know when you’re in an elevator that goers down when you thought it’d be going up? That’s kind of the feeling I got when Laura told me what had happened. In an immediate state of analyzation, I grabbed the vitamin bottle and started looking at the ingredients and the instructions in the event a child consumed the bottle. I contacted Saskatchewan Poison Control and provided them with all the information. they were able to calculate that the effect would be minimal, including bright, fluorescent pee and dark, almost black bowel movements. Otherwise, he might have a bit of a sore tummy but would be otherwise fine and suggested we feed him a snack to help absorb the excess iron he ingested.
That was the icing on an otherwise bitter cupcake on a bullshit of a weekend. Not only did my uncle pass away, my eldest son left something out that could have potentially been toxic and deadly to his baby brother. yes, we should have been watching. To our credit and his, he DID put them on the dining room table outside of the baby gate. Little did we know that our little Alexander had long enough arms to reach them. Live and learn. Alex turned out to be fine, but it prompted a very in-depth conversation with Nathan about the perils of leaving things in his little brother’s reach. It’s surprising how the little details can lead to big problems. We got lucky this time, but live and learn… ☯️
Ah, food… Never has there been something that elicits such a delicate balance of love and hate. Required for our continued survival, food plays an integral role by providing us with the fuel and nutrition we need to get through the day. It’s also somewhat responsible for weight gain and a variety of health issues if consumed improperly or in large amounts. The other side of the coin is that food can bring a significant amount of enjoyment to those who choose to experience their food as opposed to simply eating it.
For someone with Type-1 Diabetes, the consumption of food is a delicate dance of counting carbs, eating in appropriate portions an ensuring the appropriate amount of insulin is taken in proportion to what’s being eaten. It isn’t always easy and it’s made all the more difficult by the fact that every person is different their bodies may react to foods in different ways. For example, I know some people who can easily and quickly treat a low with a small glass of juice. If I tried that shit, I’d die long before the juice took effect.
For me, it’s a handful of jellybeans. Believe it or not, those bring my blood up far faster despite the fact that fluid will be absorbed quicker by the body. But some foods will be problematic, in general. Take chocolate as an example… I know a lot of people who will turn to chocolate in order to treat a low. The problem with that is that chocolate, in essence, is a solid block of fat mixed with sugar. When consuming chocolate, the body will usually break down the fat before getting to the carbohydrates. this can mean a significant delay in getting one’s blood sugars up, using chocolate. It’ll still get you there, it’ll just take forever doing it.
The same can be said of certain foods we consume at mealtime. For me, the guilty culprit is pizza. Anyone who knows me will tell you that gourmet burgers are my kryptonite and they would be right. But I definitely have a soft spot for stuffed-crust pizza. Especially on Friday nights when one can purchase a chicken Caesar stuff-crust pizza for only $10 online. It makes for a great end-of-week treat for the entire family and in fact, my son Nathan will only ever eat pizza from one specific restaurant. I recently tried to convince him to have a stuffed-crust pizza from the grocery store. It didn’t end well. But I digress…
Pizza poses a significant problem for me because it’s one of those foods without a happy medium. The contents of a pizza are unfortunately as such that i face the same conundrum as chocolate. The heavy amounts of cheese and fatty ingredients make it so that the pizza is processed differently than other foods. If I take an appropriate amount of insulin for the amount of carbs I’m eating, I’ll almost certainly bottom out within the hour. Why? Because those high-fat ingredients will get processed first and the insulin will continue to work BEFORE carbohydrates are introduced.
My insulin pump has an interesting function called “dual wave” and “square wave” bolusing. The former involves providing a specific amount of insulin up front with the remainder being dosed out over a period of time. The latter involves the entire amount being dosed out over a period of time. Why is this important? Because it allows for the appropriate dosing of insulin for the amount of carbohydrate I’m consuming while still giving the body time to process the other food aspects, such as fat, without causing me to go into hypoglycemia.
As wonderful as this sounds, the odd thing is that those wave functions aren’t available when using SmartGuard in conjunction with a CGM. This seems like a design flaw to me and I’m not clear as to why the puppy manufacturer would have done it this way. I didn’t build the thing, so maybe there’s a reason behind why it’s not permitted with SmartGuard but it rather feels like driving a car with heated seats that won’t work if you’re wearing specific pants.
It kinda sucks because it leaves me in a position where I either have to forego eating pizza altogether or I’m back to the good ol’ days of “guess-timating” how to bolus… The usual practice right now is that I’ll put off taking any insulin until I’ve actually completed eating my slice and even then, I’ll only bolus for half of the required dose at a time. This effectively mimics the square bolus effect as much as possible without disabling the extremely effective SmartGuard system that I’ve come to love.
I’ve always said that having Diabetes shouldn’t prevent a person from enjoying anything that a non-Diabetic would. After all, it’s 2022, we’ve put people on the moon, for light’s sake! Given all the advancements in medicine in the past decades, enjoying a pizza with my family on Friday night shouldn’t be such a convoluted ordeal. But it is. It usually ends up that no matter what preventative measures I take or how I adjust my bolusing, I either spend the evening trying to bring my blood sugars back up or I spend the night slowly trying to bolus to bring myself back down.
So there you have it… I know I often bring up how I’m aware that I complain about Diabetes a lot, but this is an example of how even having pizza on Friday night can be complicated. Which sucks. A lot. But such is the burden carried on the shoulders of anyone living with T1D. It can be tedious and exhausting but there are always ways to work through it. Food for thought (pun intended) Great, now I want pizza…☯️
Sometimes it can be ridiculously unbelievable how easy it is to get all up inside one’s own head. This can happen a lot, especially if one has something on one’s mind. take work for example… I think we can all agree that working is one of life’s unwanted necessities. After all, a household needs income in order to provide food, clothing, amenities and shelter for the average family. For about 99% of the population, that means leaving the house and going to work in order to earn that income. If you’re lucky, you have a job that not only serves you well and provides said income but that you actually ENJOY. That can make a world of difference in the dynamic of one’s life.
Whether you enjoy your job or not, it can often be hard to keep oneself from dwelling about work at the most inappropriate times. Maybe you’re spending time with your children and your mind is focused on the project you need to complete by deadline or the files you’ll have to complete the following week. Maybe you’re dealing with a situation at work that you have no control over and it’s keeping you awake at night instead of allowing you the rest you need and deserve. This is what I mean by getting into one’s own head. It can be disruptive and damaging, especially since it keeps you from being present in the moment.
There are a lot of things one can do to get past this. Obviously, some people will tend to dwell on things more than others. There are some things that can’t be “fixed,” nor should they be as they constitute who one becomes as a person. But if you find yourself staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night when you should be sleeping because you’re dwelling on something you can’t help in the moment, that’s no good for anyone. Especially if that lack of rest will only work to damage your effectiveness at dealing with the issue that’s on your mind.
It can be difficult and it isn’t without some effort on one’s part but it IS possible to overcome this effect. Making a conscious effort to be present in the moment and focus on what you’re doing outside of the situation on your mind, is the first step. Being involved in various activities and interests during your down time is the follow-up step. For example, I’m a big fan of meditation (if you haven’t guessed). Spending time with one’s children and spouse and investing in that time, as well as getting out of the house and doing something for yourself, are all important parts in keeping focused on the better aspects of life.
It’s great to work hard, have goals and strive for them. But not at the cost of your mind being constantly wrapped around everything NOT happening in the moment. Stop. Take a breath. Do something for yourself. It’s one thing to notice the roses but their beauty is lost if you don’t stop to smell them, every once in a while. Such is the importance of life and will go a long way towards lessening the suffering in one’s life. Food for thought…☯️
Nobody likes feeling pain and if you do, you likely run in circles that won’t have you reading a Buddhist blog. But I’m not here to judge. GENERALLY, people don’t like to feel pain and it’s no secret that there are many sources of pain outside of accidental or intentional. I’ve recently written posts about injuries and how they can be aggravated by Diabetes as well as how one shouldn’t ignore injuries or pain if they persist for long periods of time.
One of the body parts that can relate to ALL of those aspects are one’s joints. I don’t know about you but as the years have dragged on, I’ve started to notice an increased amount of joint paint. Not consistent and certainly not debilitating but just enough that it draws my notice.
Now, just to be clear because sometimes I’m not, a joint as it relates to the body is where two bones meet. Joints allow the free movement of the body, which we would be unable to do otherwise. These meetings of bones are held together by ligaments, which are strong elastic bands of tissue and movement is achieved by tendons, which are also a connective tissue that connect to the muscles that create movement.
All caught up? Good. People tend to take their joints and the respective movement they provide for granted and assume that muscles are solely responsible for proper movement. But there are many moving pieces to the process (pun fully intended). The last piece of the puzzle is cartilage. This is another type of connective tissue that serves a number of different functions throughout the body. One of the most important among these functions is coating the bones in a joint to cushion them against friction and impact.
Over time and extensive use, such as one might see from decades of martial arts training, the cartilage in one’s joints can become worn. This wear and tear can eventually cause loss of motion in the joint and pain as the bare surfaces of the bones start to rub together. This grinding of bones is called osteoarthritis, or the “wear-and-tear” disease.
It’s not always as bad as bare bones rubbing against each other. Even mild conditions can have you feeling aches and pains in the joints, especially when moving. It’s important to pay attention to these aches and pains as they can be treated in various ways but it’s obviously easier to do so before it becomes worse. Any joint pain you feel that’s sharp or acute can mean something more serious, like a torn ligament or tendon, muscle damage of bone fractures. None of those should be left untreated and you should have them checked by your medical practitioner.
Why am I writing about this? Well, the reality is that when one studies a contact art like karate, one’s joints take a terrific beating, figuratively and literally. I know that after the many decades of training hard, my joints certainly aren’t what they used to be and I would be lying if I said my knees don’t swell up like balloons on rainy days. The important thing is to keep stretching, warming up the body and ensuring that you don’t ignore consistent, chronic pain when it becomes known. Your body will thank you. ☯️
Yesterday marked the lifting of all COVID-19 pandemic-related restrictions, here in Saskatchewan. It’s been an interesting run of things, considering that even after two years of wearing a mask, I still occasionally forget to slip one on. Last weekend, Nathan and I went shopping at Walmart and I agreed to get him a happy meal since the location had a McDonald’s. Ironically, he had just received his second dose of the COVID-19 vaccine, so I agreed to reward him with a purchased lunch since I was going to make him sit through doing groceries.
We walked in and I had ordered his food and waited for it, for almost ten minutes. We got his happy meal and I loaded him into the cart so he could eat comfortably. It wasn’t until we walked into the store proper that I realized my face was bare! I was wondering why some people were giving me sideways glances. I had my mask on me, of course. I’m usually in the habit of getting as much fresh air in my lungs as I can before slipping on a mask. In this case, I must have simply forgotten.
The wearing of a mask has long been a debated restriction over the past two years. I write about it now because it was my most disliked. I hate wearing a face mask. I honestly don’t know how medical professionals do it. My hat’s off to them. Considering I’ve found myself having to train and do karate with a face mask, I’m well aware that once the skin gets a bit sweaty, that’s all she wrote! The mask basically sticks against my face like someone trying to choke me with a plastic bag. Not least of which is the fact that wearing a mask makes it difficult for me to wear my glasses. Anyone who wears glasses will totally understand the struggle. I know, I know… First world problems.
The thing is, a face mask will block some particles from spreading. This makes logical sense, since surgical staff wear them to prevent the spread of germs during medical procedures and surgeries. The logical part of my brain understands this. The “semi-logical” part of my brain suggests that it isn’t as overall effective as the professionals may think it is. When was the last time you walked past someone while wearing a face mask and were able to smell their cologne or perfume? Or caught a smell of a local restaurant wafting in your direction through the mask?
This would seem to suggest to me that particles are making their way into my nose, regardless of the mask. This wold SEEM to suggest that if COVID-19 particles are being blown in my direction, I could potentially be breathing them despite having a plate of cotton armour across my face. Doesn’t that make sense? On the flip side, smelling particles known as “odorants” and having active virus particles make their way into your body may be two different things. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. This post is purely speculative and simply an example of me thinking out loud.
Some believe the lifting of COVID-19n restrictions is too early. Maybe it is. Some believe that we all need to collectively reopen the world and let nature take its course in order to move on with life. Perhaps we will. In the meantime, it will be nice when the impulse to slap on a mask has passed, although I must confess that it’s my intention to continue to carry one with me in my pocket for some time to come. The world isn’t done with this bullshit, yet. Food for thought…☯️
Alright, this post will be a bit of a rant so I’m warning all of y’all to buckle up. Next week, I’m schedule for my bi-yearly visit to my endocrinologist where we examine my state of existence as it relates to Diabetes and how I’m managing. For the most part, I tend to make things pretty boring for my doctor, with level blood test results and a blood glucose log that you could easily cross-country ski on. My last visit, which was back in September, wasn’t as good as previous ones by virtue of having come off of CGM. This was mainly the fault of my insurance company, which put a cap on how much they would cover and I couldn’t see clear to pay the hundreds of dollars each month for them, myself. But I digress…
My point is that for the first time, my A1C’s were off, my blood sugar results weren’t as pretty as usual and I had some ‘splainin’ to do. I always find it hilarious when a doctor picks out one random bad reading off my blood log and asks, “What happened here?” Dude, I have difficulty remembering what I had for breakfast YESTERDAY… You really think I remember why I may have suffered a high or a low at that particular time? And that’s the caveat, that these appointments usually require a bunch of steps on my part prior to showing up. These steps including getting extensive blood work where I’ve been fasting for 10 hours or more as well as uploading my insulin pump to a database, which always seems to be an issue (apparently because I use an MacBook).
One of the biggest issues with visiting my endocrinologist is the need fr scheduled blood work. This blood work needs to be collected no later than 10 days before the appointment but I’ve had instances where I’ve gotten it two full weeks prior and been told that the results were too old. So not only do I have to time it as closely to 10 days as possible, I can’t really get a leg up and do it earlier. Fun times. If you haven’t guess, this post is a rant against getting my blood work done. Like I said, buckle up.
In order to understand my frustrations, we need to go all the way back to the early 80’s, when Diabetes treatment was a joke (at least in my home town) and they still operated on babies without anesthesia because they thought infants felt no pain. Yeah… THAT decade! Anyway, any time I needed blood work, it would always require showing up at the hospital first thing in the morning. There were no other times to get it done. No appointments and no “save my spot.” You needed to show up, get registered and sit and wait. Here’s the clincher: you’d rarely ever wait more than 15 minutes.
Fast forward to February 25, 2022. I was slated to go to a local blood collecting lab, which seems to be the only way to have your blood work done in Regina unless you’re actually admitted in the hospital. And it’s not that this is a new thing. Even just ten years ago, I would STILL go to the hospital to get blood work done in New Brunswick. So, I don’t know what the problem is out here, but I digress… I woke up in the low 3’s, so there was no way in hell I could keep fasting and make it through the inevitable long wait at the blood collection lab.
I bolused with some fast-acting carbs but the damage was done; I had broken my fast and my test results would be tainted. I also felt like a freight truck hit me, so I ended up calling in sick for work. It wasn’t a great day and when i had my levels up, I fell back asleep and surprised myself by waking up past 11 am. I can’t remember the last time that happened and it only happened because my blood sugars bottomed out. Brutal. Anyway, my chances of getting my blood work done was out the window and I faced a unique problem. If I waited until Monday to get the blood work, I would be below the 10-day requirement.
That wouldn’t be a lot but I know it would be enough to elicit comment, especially if the lab didn’t have enough time to analyze the results. Luckily, we live in the modern era and I was able to check online and discover that my closest blood lab was open on Saturdays. Score! It also opened at 7:30 and was open until 3 pm. Bonus! I wouldn’t have to get there at the butt crack of dawn and wait in line in the cold with everyone else in the city who were rushing to get their blood work done. Or so I thought… getting it done on Saturday also meant that it would be over ten days to my appointment but not so long before as to elicit comment. Alright, let’s do this…
Given that it was Saturday morning, I apparently thought it was a good idea not to set an alarm, the night before.I awoke just after 8 am and my first instinct was to grab a can of energy drink and go sit on the couch to enjoy some weekend silence before everyone woke up. But as I made my way to the fridge, some post-sleep clarity kicked in and I remembered my blood work. I grabbed the requisition form, jumped into some clothes and bolted out the door. Everyone was still asleep.
I got to the blood lab and noted that there were two people in line outside the door. This wasn’t as bad as compared to other days but as I stepped out of my car, I noted that a few people were walking towards the line as well. I didn’t want to make a scene by running ahead of anyone, so I continued at a normal pace, which resulted in having four people ahead of me outside instead of two. It was only -16 degrees before the wind factor, which was a lucky thing. Had it been in the -30’s before the windchill, there’d be no human way in hell I’d be standing in line outside.
The time was 8:46 am, which is important to note. Some chairs in the waiting room were empty, which made me wonder why some of us were waiting outside. There were no restriction notices on the door, nor any explanation around why we were made to wait outside like pack animals instead of inside the warm lobby. By the time I got inside the lobby, it was about 9:20 am. Some of the people who got in ahead of me overheard one of the technicians saying it would be at least an hour’s wait. At least four people stood up and indicated they were leaving as they didn’t have an hour to wait. I felt this thinned out the herd and made it so that I cold potentially get through faster. I was wrong.
My name was finally called at about 9:40, almost an hour after I first stood in line. The only consistent part of their process was the truth behind the hour-long wait. Despite being caffeine-free and on an empty stomach, I was surprisingly patient. maybe it was the perspective of seeing everyone else getting angry, frustrated and making a scene, that helped me to recognize how I sometimes tend to fly off the handle. I was ushered into a stall and asked to remove my coat.
Once I was seated, I was still made to wait for fifteen more minutes before a technician came over and mechanically asked for my name and date of birth, followed by drawing the blood and dropping a container in my hands to collect a urine sample. I went and peed in the little cup and walked out of the blood lab at about 10:05 am, ironically right at the moment when my wife asked me what my ETA was. I could sense the tension in the room as I walked out and couldn’t help but feel that there’s got to be a way for this process to be moved along faster.
That first gulp of caffeine went down smooth, like the very nectar of life was infusing my body with the ability to face the day, despite the first couple of hours having elapsed already. I don’t work as a lab technician and I don’t collect blood samples for a living so I can’t put myself in their shoes. But from the outside perspective looking in, it seems to the common person that this process can see that there should be something done to make the process smoother and quicker. The only saving grace is that my next appointment will likely be in September and waiting outside won’t be such a big deal. Small favours… ☯️
“It’s never too late…” How often have you heard that saying throughout the course of your life? It’s a well-known utterance, usually accompanying someone who is doing something said to be beyond the social or physiological limits of their current state. I’ve often read inspirational stories of people in their 70’s getting their PhD’s or parent and child graduating from the same college at the same time, together. Imagine how awkward THOSE frat parties would be? But to some, age is just a number and time seems infinite. I recently read a story about how Willie Nelson earned his fifth degree black belt at the age of 81. You can read that article here.
The big problem with this concept, and trust me when I say that I’m not TRYING to be negative, is that eventually it DOES become too late. Exceptional accomplishments much later in life are the exception, not the rule. This doesn’t make them impossible, simply improbable. And doing so is extremely subjective. Perhaps one person’s specific factors won’t allow for the same level of accomplishment as another. This is true of any point in life, not just the latter part. But eventually, the rigours and responsibilities of life start to accumulate one can find themselves at the mercy of responsibility instead of enjoying the freedom of their own potential. What’s possible becomes a fevered dream, to be dwelt upon during fleeting moments drowned in a cloud of reminiscent drunkenness.
I know that some of this likely sounds negative as hell and once again, it’s totally not meant to be. But since I’m throwing out sayings and utterances, another important one to keep in mind would be, “life is short.” And it is. None of us have any idea when life will take a turn towards that dark tunnel with the light at the end of it, so we should take full advantage. If you spend your life saying that it’s never too late, eventually, time will run out and it WILL be. Although one can always try their best to shoot for the stars, it’s important not to wait on the things that matter to you. Want to train for your black belt? Today is the day you should get started. Want to get on a diet and start losing weight? Don’t wait, get at it. Tomorrow is one more day that you haven’t done what you need to do. “It’s never too late?” Sure, until it is…
Never forget that life should be a pleasant experience. But that takes effort. Happiness should be the first and last thing on every person’s mind in a day but we cause our own suffering, and feeling a sense of loss over the “what if’s” only contribute to that suffering. Despite the pleasantness, life also wasn’t meant to be easy. And one shouldn’t mistake an easy life with happiness. One is not synonymous with the other. One can easily find happiness while still navigating the difficulties of life. What one should never do, is put off the things they want to accomplish. Because eventually, inevitably, the time will come when it WILL be too late. Food for thought… ☯️
The Blogging Buddhist 