Wake up early. After cats are fed, I eat a yogurt. And we head to the clinic to get my new glucose monitor. The lil’wrekker is riding with me. So attentive to her Moms needs, you might say? Nope. She smells a shopping trip.
Get there and I’m put in a room, so cold you can hang meat. Plus I can feel plague germs crawling on me. I’ve told y’all about my fear of germs, right?
The first problem arises quickly. It can’t go at my waist band. Not enough meat, too close to the bone. It’s placed behind my left arm. I’m already regretting that. I’m a lefty.
2nd problem, it immediately reads I have a low glucose number. My BP is low too. Finger stick, yep I’m low-ish. They run get juice and glucose tabs.
The lil’wrekker is getting antsy. I gave her my C.C. and car keys and send her to the make-up store. Clearly I’m not in my right mind.
I have to do a tutorial on the stupid thing jacking up my arm. I’m sent to a small conference room with other people, an obvious drunk man, a man sleeping with his head down and a young girl, who looks a bit freaked out and little ol’ me. The lady come in a shows a little film and walks us (me) through the calibration process. Only me, cause no one else is hearing her. The sleepy head man is snoring, kinda loud. “Any questions?” she asks. “Yeah, give me the booklet that came with the damn thing and I’ll figure it out”, I sez. Got it. I’m outta there. To the reception window. My insurance pays real good on this $1200 piece of hi-tech. I have a $60 copay. Woo-hoo!
We go eat. Nice lunch. The lil’wrekker is chatty and cute. I asked what she bought. I got schooled on this new make-up that hides all your flaws and is light weight and oh so precious. Cost $56. WTH. You’re 20yo, you have no flaws. “Oh, Mom, you don’t understand!” Yeah, I understand perfectly. Your flaws will disappear when you go in the poor-house buying make-up. Oh, that’s not all, we had to have the newest mascara, named: Death by Lash. I’m not even kidding. A cool $19 got that commodity. And, she HOPES it’s not too dark for her. Yeah, girl you’re gonna wear that shit, believe me.
We gotta stop by Starbucks for the ride home. Nope, not going through that drive thru window. The lil’wrekker goes in with $30. And comes out with 2 cold brews. This stuff is amazingly good. No change, though. I’ll wait she’ll leave it in her jeans and I’ll get it in the laundry room.
Driving is fun buzzing on coffee. I cant tell I slept about a minute in the last 24hrs. The lil’wrekker tells me to slow down on the last leg. We’re on the state highway about 10mi from my turn off. She says cars are flashing their lights, must be a cop up here. Oops, there he is. He flashes his lights at me. She is freaked “he’s gonna turn around and give you a ticket, Mom”,
“Nah, sez I” that’s Trooper Major Meanie-pants. He only tickets you if you stop on the shoulder for emergencies. She got schooled in the ways of the road. I love teaching my kids important life lessons.
I just got a freestyle libre and it is still irritating my arm. It is better than sticking my finger I guess.
So that afternoon coldbrew is just the thing for an insomniac, huh?
E-xactly.
My condolences on the tarbuck$:D
Kids, when will they learn? Old, sure, doddering, maybe. Old and doddering, never!
Heres to yer health guvnah, and yer new monitor.
lets not have anymore close call or worse threads please.
So the monitor is off by a few numbers. I’m still finger poking and double checking. The calibrating thing takes awhile. It is absolutely on the wrong arm. That will have to change.
Yeah, I keep a jacket in the car in case I need to stop off at a meat freezer. Here in Florida the doctor’s offices and theatres like to hover around Arctic temperatures (about 64F).
~Max
IKR. Same here in S.Arkansas. I wear a sweater in Wal-Mart.
Did you know there’s a $70 mascara? For that money, it should come with a professional makeup artist named Stefan who applies it for you while he tells you that you should’ve been a model.
Glad you got the glucose monitor. Once you get it figured out and it figures you out, I’m sure you’ll be glad you have it. I know the rest of us feel better!
Sergé, he’s much better than Stephan. The way he tells you you should have been a superstar model, the sincerity, the, the, the breathlessness…you’ve not had overpriced make up applied until you’ve been made up by Sergé;)
So how long is a while until it’s calibrated beck? Do you have to redo it if you move it to your other arm?
Shit. I don’t know. Let me refer to the 170page manual. I’ll get back to you on it. It got my number right at my snack time. I’m not sure if it was an accident or not. I have finger poked for many years and I trust it. It’s gonna take a minute for me to feel the same about this.
Nellie, don’t tell the lil’wrekker about that. Mum’s the word. When I bought a bit of make up for myself Mascara might have cost $3. What the heck happened?
What meter did you get? After two weeks ago’s excursion to geostationary orbit, my arm looks like I was abused by a rabid porcupine. No finger sticks for me–I don’t need to add nerve damage to the nurothathy.
Dexcom. I wish now I had ask for the Freestyle. It seems simpler. We’ll see how this goes. I did notice all kinda coupons online for the patch thingys.
Doctors’ offices and dentists’ offices! Doctors’ offices are the worst because they take away all your clothes and give you a paper napkin to wear! I have actually sat on the exam table, nethers adhering to the butcher paper, looking at my dangling feet and watching my toes turn blue from the cold!
The dentists’ office! Sitting in the waiting room, I was bitching with Mr VOW, telling him it was so cold in the back office I expected to see Popsicles and ice cream sitting comfortably on the shelves! Lady sitting behind me snorted she laughed so hard!
Brrrr!
~VOW
Hate that paper garb at the doctors offices. The stupid thing they give you for a mammogram is ridiculous. I don’t know why they bother. It covers only your shoulders. Everything is hanging out, exposed, as it were.