Since my car is 20 years old, I am never too surprised when I have to take it to the shop. So why am I bewildered when my body–which is 56 years older than my car–needs the oil changed and brakes redone?
Still I am.
I’d not been at the top of my game for several weeks. I was rapidly becoming Rip Van Winkle. I could begin a nap before I ended the one I was taking. So Monday I found my little blood pressure device, put some new batteries in it and clicked it on. 91/55 got my attention and I headed for a doc in the box I’ve used before,.
I hardly hit the door before they called an ambulance and sent me down the street to Baptist East emergency room. At one point I counted 10 people gathered around me talking excitedly about my heart rate, what little there was. About this time I got the sense that this was about more than just getting my oil changed.
Long story made short, I am now home with more holes in me from taking blood than a pin cushion. The end of every finger has been pricked for blood to find out my blood sugar level. My blood sugar tends to go from high to higher and I’m thinking that sweet iced tea is in my rear view mirror
I’m reading about living with diabetes and figuring that morning trips to Hardee’s for a sausage and biscuit and small coke are just “precious memories.” No doubt I am about to discover that there are entire sections of a grocery store that I never knew existed. Something says that late night runs to Krispy Kreme are no longer part of my travel plans.
I deeply appreciate all those who sent good wishes and prayers. They are deeply appreciated.
And for those who may have some tips on dealing with this new future, love to hear from you. email@example.com