Follow up to Bragging Rights…

Okay, so just in case you never think that things matter (this is actually a lesson for myself).

My production for the past couple of years has steadily declined, dropping my pay lower and lower and lower.  I figured I was ADD or some other initial that I don’t really understand and blamed whatever was, at least in part, to food additives or some other unknown entity and, at the very least, on my rapidly increasing age. 

OKAY. Now, this medicine has helped me.  The itching that I had prior to starting on this medication HAS STOPPED.  You cannot imagine how wonderful that is.  AND NOW since my sugar levels are not through the roof and in fact I’ve been able to stop ONE of the medications, my production on Tuesday was like 65; Wednesday like 65.  I went to the doctor on Wednesday.  YESTERDAY it was 117, and today, so far, it is 98.  SHIT MATTERS.

I have felt like crap for months and months and months, ever increasingly tired, etc. not to mention that fucking itching.  And now, yippee skippy I’m not tired, not itchy (okay maybe a little bit since I’m talking about it) and my production is increasing even as we speak.

Spread the word!  If you’re healthy, stay that away.  If you aren’t, get that way.  If you have diabetes and you itch, stop eating sugar!  I’m just saying.


Bragging Rights.

Okay, I didn’t want to brag or seem prideful so I’ve waited two whole days to share my good news.

My recent doctor visit was anticipated and waited for, and with great results. My last blood work revealed an A1c of 13.9 (normal is 6). So after much tongue clucking and heads together discussions, I was given a couple of medications and sent on my way. ‘Go forth, be healthy, take your medications.’ I did one better. I did what I said I would do. I changed my way of eating, I changed my sedentary habits, and I become healthier.

My blood work this time, are you ready, drum roll, please…5.6. Oh yeah! All those twice a day 40-minute walks in the woods paid off. All that baked skinless chicken and the trying of new vegetables did the trick. No more fast food. No more CAKE. Veggies and fruit and lean meats, and turkey instead of beef, and oh my God if I eat ONE more wrap, it’s possible I’ll turn into one. Buttttttttttt, there’s no denying the results, black and white results – 5.6. That means my glucose went from about 960 (basically impending death) to about 110 (‘Hello, Normal, you good looking thing you!’). Sweet!

So, don’t think it can’t be done and don’t think you can’t do it. Because trust me, you can. The doctor, the head cheese, came in to see me and shake my hand. She said, and I quote, “I’ve only seen this happen ONE OTHER TIME, so I wanted to tell you Good Job”, and then she balanced a dog treat on my nose, which was weird but that’s whatever. I am incredibly happy with my results and I am absolutely waiting for next week to come because that’s when I hear…”my cholesterol results“. Those were exceedingly high as well previously and fiddle dee dee, I’m hoping they are “within acceptable range” this time around as well.

*squares up shoulders* I’m just getting ready for another pat on the back. And I’m thankful – incredibly, unbelievably thankful.

Covet: To wish for earnestly…

When I am me, bereft of thought,
I am so much more me than previously.
Frustration is simply a word unused,
meanwhile the soul becomes more abused.
Scattered among all the debris
of a life mismatched with the likes of me, 
who am I to recognize,
when I look around with tired eyes.
There’s really no one here who cares at all;
empathy and indifference litter the hall.
Was it all a gallant try to gain your trust,
or one more measure of languid lust?

Happy Memorial Day 2014.

Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force and all the others – I thank you, for keeping us safe, for giving your lives in the service of our country, for standing up and being good men. So make sure when you come home, be a good man, please.

I was raised in a home with a World War II veteran, Navy, with remnants all around the house – Pearl Harbor pictured on a silk pillow with a poignant poem, plaques on the wall, medals in a frame, and scars on the Old Man (my uncle). He limped for as long as I knew him and wore a neck brace some of the time and used crutches now and then.  His boat was hit by a suicide bomber, split it right in half and he fell down an open hatch, broke his neck and was flown to Okinawa Naval Hospital. I have no doubt it scarred him inside as well as outside. War is hell. But what he put our family through was nothing short of Hell either.

So if and when you come home, soldiers, come home as men, not as sniveling cowards who terrorize your children, raise your hands to your wife or in any other way decimate the good name you earned in the service of our country.

If you were a man over there, be a man over here.

To Be or Not To Be…

So last night was date night.  We bought tickets to see a Shakespeare play.  Something I’d never done before.  I’ve been to see a play, I mean never a Shakespeare play.  Wow.  I kind of wish it had been in a foreign language.  I might have had a chance in understanding it but that’s whatever.  I’m getting ahead of myself in this story.  I never thought of myself as lowbrow before but maybe, just maybe I am.  I look that word up and it says, ” Lacking in refinement and good taste”.  Gosh, golly gee, that could be me if Shakespeare is the opposite.  But I digress.

We arrive early as there was a mention of “entertainment” before the play.  Oh, this is an outside seating thing, by the way.  Stone benches and all that, under the stars.  We brought comfy padded lawn chairs and could have sold them easily.  It was definitely warm when we arrived but as the evening drew on, I should have traded them for a blanket as I sat naively in my shorts, freezing to death.  But again, I’m way ahead here and getting off course. 

Upon arriving at the entrance, we spot a loveseat on the curb across the street.  It’s nothing we would have purchased, but for free, we couldn’t get out of our vehicle fast enough.  And it happened, we were driving our BRAND NEW TRUCK.  Yes, for the first time.  Date night, Shakespeare, and a BRAND NEW TRUCK!  The loveseat had silver legs and the built-in cushions are purple-y pinkish.  I don’t know a better word.  Magenta?  Not sure.  Again, nothing I would have paid for or even looked at or considered in the store, but for free, oh yeah.  We hoist it up in the truck and it’s two inches too long.  It’s a double cab, short bed truck.  So we wiggle it up a bit higher and close the tailgate.  As I park the truck, my thoughts are “Please don’t let it rain” and “Gee I hope no one steals this” as I think with anything left open in the back of a truck. 

We “enjoy” the play.  Actually we enjoyed the fire…people.  Terminology escapes me.  They walked in front of the stage juggling sticks of fire and doing handstands, etc.  There was a person on stilts and women with veils in shimmering outfits and jester type people.  Quite entertaining, those folks.  I’m sure to the highbrow crowd at large who knew the appropriate time to clap and stuff that we were the jesters of that crowd.  Anyway, we ate our grapes and enjoyed being out and about.  And amazingly, it did not rain and no one stole our beautiful, did I mention free and that we do not currently own a loveseat or a couch, salvaged piece of art. 

On the way home, we talked of where we would put our lovely find, how my girlfriend would take our little steam cleaner and make it completely wholesome and clean (although it honestly had no stains, no smells, yes I smelled it, what?  I wasn’t taking it home if it had formerly belonged to Pigpen.) and ours, all ours, for free.  FREE.  We chuckled, with mirth, with joy, with happiness.  Free.  On the curb.  Fate.  Divine intervention.  Oh how sweet it is.  Do do, do do dooo, la, la, la life is good.  It’s midnight by now and we are happy, sing along with me, happppppyyyy.

We crossed over the bridge into our complex and the little woman says to me, “Pull up out front and we’ll get the loveseat out of the back.”  Okay.  I pull up, get out as she opens the back door to grab her purse, and I look at the big empty space in the back of our truck.  “Honey”, I say, “it’s gone.”  We both stare at the empty space, our eyes meet and she says, tiredly as it’s midnight, “Well, I guess we don’t have to take it inside now.” 

For probably the next hour or more, I stared into the darkness of my ceiling and tried to pinpoint at what point in our drive did my vision become unblocked.  I cannot think of one place in that 30 miles where I could see out of my rear view mirror.  I would have sworn that it was there.  I certainly did not feel it leave the truck.  No one blew a horn at me on the interstate.  No one flashed their lights.  I blame Shakespeare.  To be or not to be.  I’m guessing it was not to be.  But then I’m quoting the wrong play.  We went to see Two Noble Kinsmen so let me quote that.  “Maiden pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint, And sweet thyme true.”  I don’t know what the hell they said.
Stupid loveseat.  Airborne and such shit.  What the hell?  I’m still in shock that it just “left the building” and made not a sound.  I think from now on, when I think of it, I’ll remember that beautiful free loveseat as ‘Elvis’.

11 Questions answered. Ta-daaaaaaa!

Now, the 11 questions:
1. Who was your first crush? – First grade, Ronny Sullivan (he grew up to be a hired killer, now serving time in a Florida prison) but I wised up about boys and so in second grade it was Tonette Johnson; I walked her to her bus every day after school, holding hands, and then she would kiss my cheek. I was certain I was going to marry her and we would have two kids, a boy named Anthony and a girl named Tonette so I would be living with three Tony’s. 😛 Sadly she moved at the end of second grade. 😦
2. Do you play any sport? Checkers, scrabble, UNO and spades. 😛 They don’t count? Okay, fine. Softball but I don’t run anymore so I hit for distance. 😛
3. If you could revisit any point in time what would it be? The week before my son died so I could find a different place to live and he would still be alive.
4. What’s your favourite time of year? Summer, when it’s warm.
5. What’s the best movie you’ve ever watched? Wizard of Oz. She was alone in the woods with three grown men and not one of them molested her. Love that story. That’s what it’s about, isn’t it?
6. If you could be anyone else, would you? Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, because she figured out she was happy after all.
7. Favourite holiday destination? Beach.
8. What’s your favourite piece of clothing (or pair of shoes) you can’t live without? White soft tee I sleep in.
9. Do you have any tattoos, if yes what are they? I have a peach with a banner across it that says, Sweet Peaches. Most people think it is a nickname or that I’m from Georgia. No and no. It’s because I was dating a woman who told me that eating puzzy was like eating sweet peaches. How could I resist after that? I want more, though. One for cystic fibrosis, because my grandson has it. One with most likely some kind of saying from Marilyn Monroe, just because.
10. Do you prefer a night out or a night in? What are we doing? If it’s sex, then a night in. If it’s not, then a night out.
11. What’s your favourite comfort food? Meatloaf and mashed potatoes, with gravy, and biscuits. But I’m eating healthier so….hmm…yeah, I got nothing. Meatloaf and mashed sweet potatoes, maybe, with no gravy and no biscuit. UGH. Why bother?

This is for you: