This morning my daughter came by to drive me to the bank, and on the way back we stopped at Walmart (YUCK) to get a cheap pair of slippers to wear at the hospital and rehab. Most of their offerings were cheap tacky plastic shit with slick bottoms, not slip-resistant. Then we went around a corner and she found something else. I was sitting on a little bench and she was digging through a display of slippers. And I suddenly flashed back to a time when the kids were sitting still while I tried to find something to fit them. Today the tables were turned and I felt very small and vulnerable as my daughter became the grown-up helping me find slippers. It was only a split-second of time, but it dawned on me how things have changed. Strange. I’m not ready to be old and vulnerable, needing regular care. I will be so glad when this shit is over and I can get back to more normal activity and some semblance of vitality.
So, last night I forced myself to stay in bed, instead of getting up for an hour or two in the night. Managed to stay in bed until almost 5:00. I can’t tell which part of the night was actual sleeping or just wishing I was asleep. No matter, I’m up now. Finger stick was 126.
I wasn’t as productive yesterday as I had hoped. Part of the day was feeling crappy, and part was feeling crappier. Whatever… <*shrug*>
I didn’t get far on the socks, but I completed the toes, made the separator band and began the foot part.
The yarn for these came out crappy because of bleeding out from black to browns, and I wouldn’t sell it, but I sort of like the mottled look on the socks. And now it’s just tedious knitting until I reach the heel. I’ll be glad when the socks are deep enough to stuff the yarn balls into the socks to carry around, instead of the plastic bags the yarn is now in. Makes it so much easier to keep the yarn inside the sock, less likely to tangle with the yarn from the other sock.
Yesterday I commented on FB that I was settling in to watch a Harry Potter marathon to spend the day knitting, and discovered I’d turned it on to catch the last 30 minutes of the final movie of the series — hmph! And someone commented, “J.K. Rowling is a TERF.” Whether she is or isn’t has no bearing on whether I watch the movies. They are so familiar to me that I don’t need to pay attention but they’re good background noise.
Now, being a TERF is definitely NOT a good thing, but it annoys me that there are people who latch onto some artist’s sin (perceived or real) and announce it at every opportunity or any mention of the artist’s work. Virtually every artist, just like every other human being, has character flaws. If we reject their work because of their flaws, we’d have no art in the world.
Anyway… into the day I go.
Bull-fucking-shit! Gawd-awful intestinal cramps (one specific location on the left side — double-up and whimper type gripping pain every 10-15 minutes) and now this morning I get treated to dry heaves.
It’s nearly 6:30 a.m., and I’ve still not really slept since last evening. I’ve been taking Metamucil capsules 2x a day (3 with breakfast, 3 with dinner), and drinking lots and lots of water, just like the doctor said, but still my digestive tract is not moving itself along as smoothly as it used to. I used to be regular — dependably regular. So I decided last night to try one of the most recommended laxatives (Dulcolax). Supposed to “produce a bowel movement within 6 to 12 hours”. Okay, it’s been six already. I’ll wait to see what transpires today.
BigBoy was inside last night. I aimed myself toward the bed around 10:30, gave a whistle, and he came to the bed after I’d adjusted myself into my blankets and pillows. He shuffled around a bit, I moaned and rolled back and forth a bit, and made far too many trips to the bathroom to pee. At one point while I was hurting, he made a reconnaissance trip around the bed, padding around all my pillows and around my head, circling my body before returning to where he started from. Trying to be a purr-amedic? It didn’t help but I appreciated the gesture, I suppose.
I don’t know what today will bring, but I have no plans to get out of my flannel lounge pants (okay, like pajama pants), sweatshirt, and bathrobe. It is currently about 40ºF, and will dip into the mid-30s after a while.
Fasting finger-stick just now – 137.
Just put the boys’ breakfast out. It’s damn cold out there. I am not amused.
edited to add: so, I got some relief, finally. But that one place on the left side continues to grip and cramp and hurt so very much. I don’t understand that. I hope it isn’t a sign of a more serious problem in my colon. That would be very bad, indeed.
What a weird night. Slept 2 hours, awake for 1, slept 2 more hours, awake for 1 more, slept from 4:30 until 8:45 except for a minor wake at 7:10 to drop a bowl of food outside for the boys. So my morning fingerstick is late but it’s 122. Okay.
After some coffee and dealing with the morning grogginess, I’ll need to shower and shave. My body is definitely changing, but I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. I feel “okay” for now, but I need to wake up first. Most of my life I’ve been easy to wake up and get going, but sleeping so long is a long-lost treat and I’m not waking up as fast as I normally do.
So, I was up in the night and posted earlier. There was a gnawing in my stomach, so I ate a handful of mixed nuts, thinking it wouldn’t disrupt my numbers too much. Got about 3.5 or 4 more hours of sleep (with several more trips to the bathroom), finally got up around 7:15. Fed the boys and stuck my finger — 131. Damn.
Later — After several days of cramps and pains, my belly-gut is sorta feeling less horrible.
And I think I might be doing my insulin shots wrong. I’m supposed to dial the unit number of the assigned dosage, “pinch an inch” of belly fat, put the needle into that bit of belly fat, press the plunger all the way down, and then wait 10 seconds before removing the needle. I’ve been doing that, yet invariably there is a drop or two more of the insulin coming up out of the needle, which I *think* was supposed to stay under my skin. I’m not going to change the dosage that I dial up, but I’m wondering if I’m supposed to keep it held in until the needle actually empties.
Much later: took my prelunch insulin, fixed a cheese sandwich, and finally fell asleep just about the time I was to take the afternoon finger-stick. A bit of a treat to sleep an hour and a half, nearly almost sorta-kinda pain-free, but took a fingerstick anyway — 140. Not horrible.
Right now cooking Sunday Soup – a pound of ground beef, 1 cup mirepoix, 2 orders Boracho beans, 1 order Mexican rice, can of diced tomatoes, and bag of soup-mix vegetables. Plus a quart of chicken broth. The beans and rice were side dishes from recent orders from Iguana Joe’s, so not a lot of actual preparations on my part. Just throw everything into the cast iron Dutch oven and let it simmer a good long while.
Took my reading at 6:10 – 101. Okay, I can live with that.
But holy fuck, my lower belly area hurts, like right over the bladder area. Seems aspirin and caffeine are the only thing that works. It took an hour or so to kick in, but I’m feeling better now.
Just took out the trash to the street for collection, fairly winded. I’m not in shape, that’s for sure. I can make it through the day, of course, but at a slower pace than I’d like. What I want to do is go back to sleep (I got maybe 4 hours… ish) and not wake up until my body is better. What I need to do, however, is to get up and get going, doing what I can and work at getting better each day.
I’ll be fine, just takes time.
UGH! Rough night. I crawled into bed just around 10:00. BigBoy had claimed a corner of the bed, so I just left him. A couple trips to the bathroom, but I crawled back into bed. BigBoy found the niche behind my knees. Around 1:30 I rolled over onto my back, and he decided to knead his way between my legs, and up onto my personals. Nope. I was wide awake then, and he was carried to the door to go outside. (Good thing, too — I discovered the front door was still unlocked!) I was awake until almost 5:00, slept a bit until 7:00, got up to feed the boys and went back to sleep until almost 9:00.
My sleeps are sooo fucked up, it’s no wonder my bowels aren’t behaving properly. I can feel (and hear) things moving and gurgling, but no indication of anything ready to evacuate the premises on anything like my once-normal routine. I’ve gone all my life knowing when it’s time to poop. Now, not so much, which I think is contributing to the pain and discomfort down there. And, unless the colonoscopy reveals something more sinister, I suspect the diabetes has fucked up my intestines so they no longer work right, just like I’ve lost some sensation in my feet and hands. At the moment my innards feel tied up in knots, which isn’t a good feeling, but slightly better than the faint-inducing gripping pain that comes later in the day. Even so, I’m continuing to add extra fiber into my diet through the day, and drinking loads and loads of water — omg, my back teeth are floating!!
The morning reading at 4:00 was 113, which is pretty good and within acceptable range.
By the way, it is another gloriously sunny day in Houston, around 67ºF at 11:15 now. Going to open the windows and spend the day upright as much as I can. Not exerting myself much, although I will send a note to my doctor to ask just how concerned I’m supposed to be about the aorta aneurysm. I am genuinely scared of increasing my heart rate and inducing an unnecessary blow-out. I need the doctor’s guidance and assurance that I don’t actually have a ticking time-bomb or something just waiting to happen.
First, today is the last dr. visits for the month. More coming in January. Morning finger stick is 124. And I can’t have anything to eat until the first visit is done — doing an ultrasound on my aorta, so I can’t have anything to eat or drink. I’m taking my coffee, some snacks, and my insulin shot with me, since I won’t get back home until after 10:00 and that’s sort of late. Then I get a CT scan on my chest.
And this is what I just posted to Facebook:
I’ve had the boys since the fall of 2011, so it’s been just about 8 years. BigBoy has just recently shown he can sleep under the table once in a while, so I left him there, I rubbed his head and said I was going to bed. I had just barely pulled my covers up when I felt something bounce on the bed. And then paw around my feet. And then BigBoy found the exact middle of the bed, so that I spent most of my sleep time trying to find a position for myself that he approved.
I guess it takes time for a cat to get comfortable enough to sleep with its owner.
So now I go get ready for the clinic. See ya!
So, another rough night, mostly lower belly pain which sis not abate during the night or yet today. Just after midnight my reading was 132, and I sat up and had 2 cups of coffee before going back to bed around 2:00. Really fitful uncomfortable “sleep”, got up around 6:30 and my normal morning reading was 113.
I went to see the diabetes counselor at the clinic, still in pain, but it was a good visit. She seemed impressed with the general trend of my numbers coming down. She also explained the whole sugar process:
- I eat food, it turns into sugar (fuel), which gets into the blood stream.
- In order for the fuel to reach my organs for optimal operation, the glucose has to pass from the blood into the organs.
- Insulin acts like the door keeper, opening the path for the glucose to move from the blood stream into the organs.
- The pancreas creates the insulin; if the pancreas isn’t creating enough insulin to move the glucose from the blood to the organs, the glucose stays in the blood stream and thus shows as a high reading on the finger stick; i.e., too much sugar in the blood.
So that makes sense.
She also helped me to better understand about portion control and balancing what I eat, especially so that I eat a protein with a carb-rich food. That means I have to be more conscious about what I eat, even though I am a pretty good eater most of the time.
I came home and ate lunch — the leftover plate from last night’s dinner — but didn’t each much of the potatoes, mostly the bacon and the veggies. After waiting 2 hours, I tested and got a 177.
One thing she said was that my numbers should aim for 80-180; I’d been expecting a narrower window of acceptable range. But she looked through my meter and noticed my numbers are coming down, so that’s a good thing. She also said it’s a possibility I may be able to stop the insulin as long as I keep my numbers down. Or at least reduce my dosage. But that’s way down the road.
I may need to start testing more frequently for a while to see what happens when I eat various things through the day. Thank goodness testing supplies are free under Medicare. 🙂 So was today’s visit, so no co-pay today. Yayy.
Meanwhile, the abdomen continues to give me grief. Everything hurts today so I can barely stay standing — both the bladder/prostate area as well as sharp pains all around the intestine area. I genuinely do not understand it because I’ve started taking the Tamsulosin to open up the bladder/prostate area, and I’ve been eating regular foods with supplemental fiber. But it all still hurts so much. 🙁 Between the urologist next week and the colonoscopy in January, I sincerely hope to get some answers. I cannot keep on trying to function with pain. Oddly, only sometimes does the aspirin and/or ibuprofen seem to help, and the pain levels don’t seem to be directly connected to when or how much I eat or drink, OR when or how much I pee or poop. So I sincerely hope the doctors will find an organic actual reason for this much pain.
Yeah, I know… this is probably more personal than strangers need or want to read. But I don’t have someone sharing my life with whom I can talk this stuff out with, so there it is. 🙂
OH! and she reiterated that there are no “bad foods” — just portion control and balance.
First off, I had a fairly adequate sleep — almost 4 hours before first wake for potty, but right back to sleep for another couple of hours. My first-of-the-morning finger stick was nice — 106!!! Woo-hooo.
I’ve been shuffling through the day, getting the kitchen ready to dye in. Did a load of dye-mop towels, which is good. The pain in my lower region is starting in early. Since I don’t know what is causing it, I don’t know how to prevent it. The worst of it is in the bladder area, which I don’t understand, but I suspect it is an effect of the diabetes working against my organs. Standing up and moving around is very uncomfortable, but even just sitting still the throbbing and gripping pain — like serious cramps — is painful. I see the urologist on Tuesday and I seriously hope he can figure it out. If I’ve been standing a while (or walking around Kroger collecting my groceries) it is worse. Sitting down to rest does not make the pain stop, but the pain prevents me from being able to stand up or move around much, so I just wait it out until it subsides. Sometimes it stops and I can actually rest or get up and do things.
Aspirin and/or ibuprofen do seem to help, so that’s what I’ve been using. Just had a snack so I can take a couple aspirin and see if that helps. I need to be able to stand up for a couple of hours in order to do the big dye job, but 10 minutes is almost more than I can take. 🙁
But I take it one day at a time and do the best I can.
Oh yeah, and today I turned 65 years old. I was born on a Saturday, at 4:11 a.m. at Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara, California. Back then, in the early 50s, when television was still a rare commodity, Dad had to watch the Friday night boxing matches. As Mother told it, she sat on her suitcase by the door, in labor, until the Friday night fights were over, before Dad would take her to the hospital. And she made sure I knew I was the only one of her children born IN the Delivery Room, and ON TIME. Scott was a couple months early, Sheila was 17 days beyond due date, and Shannon was 38 days late and would still not be born if the county had not induced. I wasn’t aware they were on county resources, but it makes sense considering Dad may have been out of work at the time, I really don’t recall exactly as it was a tough period.
So, anyway, I made it to 65 years old. And I still have no idea what comes next. I guess I’ll just go on and see what this one day brings, and let tomorrow and the future figure itself out.