I have to live with myself

Today found Ron and I arguing at the bank.  I told him the teller had given us too much change.  He said he would have to count everything before he'd believe me. 

I couldn't just walk out, and Ron didn't want to count his money in the bank.  "We'll come back" he said "If it's over". 

First, we got up and got ready.  I was pretty tired this morning, and I'll blame poor, innocent Biscuit.  He gets in the bed with me and purrs so sweetly, I don't want to get up.  I roll up around him and go back to sleep.  When I go get up, I give him his "livers" or his seafood.  He got his num-num (if I do nothing, I make sure of that).  I made sure Baby Girl wasn't being a Bad Girl and stealing the whole thing.  She can be a little terrorist. 

She's probably the smallest cat in the house, but she's the meanest when it comes to num-nums.  She will claw Biscuit and hiss at him to steal the food.  If I put down two plates they don't get eaten.  So I supervise. 

I got my shower.  The welts on my leg are still pretty mad so I didn't try to shave.  This reminds me, a little, of the antidepressant reaction I had back in 2009.  I wonder if one of my medications was cross contaminated with an SSRI antidepressant.  Even a little dust could have provoked this reaction.  I am pretty nastily allergic to SSRI'S.  Ironic, really. 

Allergic to an antidepressant?  Sounds like a bad joke. 

I'm still spotting, no cycle yet.  I didn't have a headache this morning, until I took my antidepressant.  It is pretty notorious for headaches, and sure enough guess what came to visit?  That's right!  Not Fun. 

Our ride came, a driver we like.  We got to work on time.  Things had been pretty busy so I was working the whole time. 

We went to the bank and exchanged $1 for $20.  We got too much, I realized, after I walked away from the counter.  I went back to the teller and told her to double check the transaction. 

Ron and I had our "discussion" and I realized I couldn't walk out of there with the cashier short, especially that amount of money.  She'd lose her job. 

Now, from a purely selfish standpoint she is the only one I trust to do our work.  She is friendly, sweet, and always kind.  That shouldn't have mattered but it did.   At some level, I don't want to lose her. 

She called me back to her window.  I was right.  She had given us !! too much money.  I looked at Ron, still complaining.  I looked at her, she looked as though she'd been slapped.  She was very nervous and frantic. 

I did the only thing I could do.  I reached in my pocket and took out my freshly-gotten pay, gave her back the money.  Ron counted the money later and told me he guessed I was right, he had !! too much money.  I told him I had given her my money so could I please get it back? 

"Why did you do that?  We were going back." 
"You were going back.  I couldn't walk out of there knowing I had her money in my pocket." 

Ron made some comments but I'm very pleased with how I handled the situation.  The minute I realized "we" had a real problem, I brought it to her attention and we fixed it.  She clocked out today with no problems.  I have my pay.  Ron has his inventory money. 

I can't call myself a Christian and steal.  Yes, the teller made a mistake, but that doesn't mean I take advantage of that mistake. 

Now, I admit, it would have been easier to return if it had been $5.  But if, at the end of it, Ron couldn't "find" the extra money I still would have done what I did. 

I have to live with myself. 

I have to answer to God. 

Do I want to run around blabbing how much I gave back and that it happened at a bank?  No.  I just called her a "cashier" on Facebook.  I really "shouldn't" talk about it at all. 

Matthew 6:1

[ Do Good to Please God ] “Take heed that you do not do your charitable deeds before men, to be seen by them. Otherwise you have no reward from your Father in heaven."

 

That's Jesus talking.  Ah, well.  I think it's important to share moments like this in my faith walk.   We'll see what He thinks in the long run. 

 

Do you think she will remember what I did when she looks at the Bible I gave her a while back?  [grin] 

The rest of my day

I called one of my cab driver buddies, who showed up quickly.  He must be working our area now. 

Either that, or (here's a horrifying image), he moved in one block over, to stalk us.  [nervous chuckle]  I hope not. 

Anyway, a good ride to the store.  I got everything on my list.  Fabric softener.  Livers for Biscuit (Sheba Chicken and Liver Pate), an organizer box for my yarn - I don't like having bags everywhere.  I also got a shower caddy to organize my implements.  It's very handy for all my crochet hooks, knitting needles, point protectors, and a pair of scissors when I get them.  If I'm doing needlework at home, it's in my chair, so I'll keep it by my chair.  My chair is near the door so it's easy to take an implement out and throw it in my travel bag.  I got myself some soda, since my cab driver assured me he'd come back (he did, in fact, he waited!).  I got 3 balls of Woolease Thick and quick for my poncho project, a pair of size 11 knitting needles, and snack foods for both of us. 

I paid, got some takeout, and called the cab driver, who came right over.  Wow. 

"You know" I told Ron "When it comes to cabs you do get what you pay for.  I would much rather 'overtip' a cab driver and get better service for it, than get a reputation as a cheap person."  That's one reason I never take a cab unless I have enough money to leave a generous tip.  A good example, a ride to Walmart is about $15.  You can bet I would never give them less than $18 for that ride.  A ride home from Walmart is nearly impossible to obtain, so that would be a $5 tip. 

Ron agrees.  When he gives me cab fare, he always gives me "enough" because he knows I will just tip the driver what I think is right, out of my own money. 

"Oh, I remember Heather.  She's the good tipper and nice."  It may be "un-necessary" and "overly generous" but I'd much rather be overly generous than overly cheap.  They do remember. 

At some point, we need to take all 4 cats, in their carriers, to the vet.  That will entail either calling a cab driver, calling Metrolift (not a fan of that), or calling our guy with the pickup truck (probably plan A).   If we can work it, though, maybe we can take Metrolift there and Lou the Cab Driver home, if we can arrange it with him ahead of time. 

A lot of times, with my cab drivers, I have to "book" it in advance.  "I'm going to need a ride tomorrow around 9, would that work for you?"  Good drivers have quite the calendar, and may don't even take trips from dispatch because they have so many of their own. 

I don't know how that works where you live.  I still see myself, on my own, as primarily a bus rider. 

Oh, and I started my cycle, or the pre-cycle spotting, I'll see when I take out the tampon.  The headache pills have kept any cramping at bay. 

I am tremendously thirsty, though.  That's just the lithium.  I thought it was funny, my last blood test showed I was overhydrated.  [laugh]  Of course, I drank half a gallon of water before the blood test. 

I got Ron's clothes moved to the dryer, and put my whites in the washer.  I read a really stupid book where the blind heroine only wore white clothes so she wouldn't clash. 

Stupid.  Ron wears black pants and solid color sweatshirts in the winter.  In the summer, if he's not working, he wears navy, charcoal gray, or black knee length knit shorts, and solid color t-shirts.  If he's working he wears long pants because his legs look terrible now.  Scary scars from the ulcers, from the massager abuse, due to the neuropathy, due to the allergic reaction, his drinking, and most likely unstable blood sugars.  Anyway, a neutral "bottom" and a solid color top.

He does not wear any khaki because he gets filthy.  I put the hammer down on that. 

He has various teal, heather green, gray, navy, black, medium blue, and other colored tops.  He doesn't have any cherry red or cobalt blue because those are gang colors, we wait outside on our ride in a gang neighborhood, and we do evangelism in gang neighborhoods.  I don't have any cobalt blue or cherry red, either. 

I wear white quarter crew socks all year, denim capris in the summer, black or denim; same colored jeans in the winter.  I wear solid color t-shirts year round.  If it gets cold I throw a jacket on top.  I work hard so a t-shirt is fine for unloading the truck, any time of year. 

Of course I wear a bra.  When I'm around certain parties, I make sure it is padded.  The rest of the time it is something simple.  With regards to undergarments I will say that yes, I do wear them, and any pervert would find them really disappointing.  [snort] 

Now that I cut my hair I don't need to pull it back, it works fine for me in any situation.  I'm really glad I cut it.  I will just have to trim it every couple of months, but I like it when someone else washes my hair.  I can honestly say I really like my hair. 

So, once I finish the whites I start the bedding.  I need to do the bedding next.  I am bad about that, I don't really remember, or notice, until I get on a manic cleaning binge. 

I am hoping it helps the hives on my leg.  Something really teed it off and I have a welt about a quarter of an inch wide, by a couple inches long.  I have been using hydrocortisone cream at home.   I'm avoiding peanuts now. 

I can run allergic to detergent additives, so I always use unscented detergent.  But I like to "hit" my finished afghans and other projects with fabric softener when I wash them before gifting.  I got something that smells nicely of tropical fruits.  I figure I can use it on Ron's bedding when I wash it tomorrow. 

I use a fair amount of unscented Tide on Ron's clothes.  It does do a good job getting out the stains. 

I use the plain All Free on my stuff, and it works fine.  I don't get filthy like Ron can.  He likes to use his clothing as a napkin.  It's funny, he had such commitment issues buying me a washer and dryer, but he has gotten most of the benefit! 

The Shout gel in the blue applicator works really good on awful stains. 

The cats are good.  I really only have one complaint, other than Torbie playing with the cat door in the middle of the night (remember it is in my bedroom): they like to roll and stretch under my foot as I'm bringing it down.  I can't tell you how many times I would have stepped on them if I hadn't been watching.  Torbie's the only one who doesn't do it. 

They don't do it with Ron because they know he will step on them.  It only takes a few times for them to get it! 

Of course, with every new cat there is always the adjustment period, Ron steps on the cat, or runs over it with the walker/wheelchair.  The cat screams, Ron feels terrible, and the cat goes sulking off into a corner.  But they learn, and they don't do it long. 

Once they get over that I think we're a pretty good place to live.  We aren't grabby, we are generous with the treats; abundant food and water, toys, playmates, cat condos, cat door - but we don't make them "outside" cats.  They can go wherever they want, I don't have any rules about furniture, the bed, the counters, or the table.  In fact, I feed them on the kitchen table.  They are all overweight at best down to outright obese, for Torbie.  I don't expect a long shelf life for an obese, elderly, cat, but we'll have fun in the meantime. 

Well, I have to get up pretty early so that's it for now. 

See you tomorrow. 

Keep it classy

I always say I hate politics, I don't watch the news (aside from morning traffic, local news, and weather), and I really hate debates. 

Yet here I am, telling you I'm not voting in the primary.  Why?  Because I have to sign an affidavit saying I am one party or the other.  I won't do that.  I'm Independent.  I will vote for whoever I think is best. 

For instance, I voted for the Democratic sheriff candidate until he allowed a person with mental illness to die, neglected, in custody.  I won't be voting for him again, ever.  But, until that point, he was a "good" guy and got a couple of votes. 

Another time a Republican judge let a baby raper out on parole. I did not vote for her in reelection.  Later on, I found out she had become a tougher judge and I began voting for her again. 

I go on the candidate.  But I won't be choosing the primary candidate. 

I'm OK that.  As Ron and I remind each other, God's candidate is the one who will win.  Only one person can do the job God has for them to do.  Who is it?  I don't know yet.  I will know on election night. 

Ron, as I've said, was rather upset during the last presidential election, but God reminded him that only one person, the incumbent, could do the job God had for him to do.  Therefore, God allowed that man to be reelected. 

This one thing many Christians don't get: the Bible tells us to respect our leaders.  You will never find me name calling and insulting our leadership these days.  Do I like some of them?  No.  I am not happy they have my name on them, so to speak.  But God has put them in that position and I have to respect that. 

Would I want to have lunch with certain politicos?  No, I would do my best to get out of it.  But I wouldn't insult them.  I would probably bore them with stories of my cats, and the Bible Handouts. 

It is the worst witness ever to post insulting memes with the president's face on the backside of a monkey, and similar things, calling him an "idiot" and worse, and generally acting like a schoolyard bully.  Don't! Do! That!  That is not God's will. 

We have to keep it classy, as God has reminded me more than once in my marriage.  It's very easy to get petty, petulant, and bitter, but that's not what He wants for me to do. 

I assume that applies globally.  :p 

I do have our voter cards, though, for November.  I can push Ron over in the wheelchair, or we can take the paratransit one-way and then go get a fried chicken special, afterwards, like we did last time. 

The wheelchair, surprisingly, offers a lot of options.  You would think it would be the worst thing ever, but I can ride the bus with him, take a "walk", or take him out in the yard and move him around as I work on my plants.  Ron has even put the garbage in the wheelchair seat and pushed it out to the curb when I had a migraine on garbage eve. 

I woke up with a pretty nasty headache around 3 AM.  I got up and took something, then went back to sleep.  I eat OTC headache pills like some eat breath mints. 

I woke up around 7 and took some more around 8. 

Today I plan to take a shower, I already did my God Time, watch church on the computer (Ron's request), and go to Walmart on the bus.  I plan to play in the yarn section and make a deposit so I can buy Ron a sleep master bed base.  His boxspring is pretty destroyed.  Rather than buy a new bed (he is happy with the mattress), we can buy a base, he can store items under it, it's very comfortable, and it's a combo boxspring and frame.  It's easy to put together, too, and only about $60 (he has a twin).   You can go to Amazon and look up "sleep master" and it will come right up. 

It should arrive by the end of the week.  I can put it together and get him set up.  I think he will really like it, and I know he'll love the storage.  You wouldn't believe how much stuff I fit under my bed.  Like anyone, Ron has a modest (a lot less than me!) assortment of "stuff".  He is very organized, far more than me, and I know my sloppy housekeeping drives him nuts. 

He's gotten a lot better at tolerating it, which does make me want to do better.  Anyway, it will help him out. 

I will just have to move the old twin box spring out and throw the mattress on the new bed. 

I can have fun playing in the yarn aisle, and I need to throw $10 in my account to make sure my charity Bible smuggling doesn't bounce.  :)  You had to figure I'd be into something like that.  They can do a Bible for $6.  So that's one and a half every month. 

My headache is better.  I'm going to take a shower after I cue up the church and then get ready to head out. 

When Torbie lets me have it

Gravy doesn't like Disciple, the group.  When I put my music on he covered his face with a paw. 

Ron's asleep, Baby Girl is sitting behind me, Biscuit's on one couch, Gravy's on the other.  Torbie has taken over my chair. 

Last night I was watching a movie with Ron.  I can work a crochet Granny Square while watching TV, God knows I have made literally dozens of Granny Square afghans.  I am working on the shades of blue + black one right now (the one in the photos with the big black square in the middle). 

Anyway, I was doing pretty well until Torbie got up on me and decided to lie down on the nice, soft, "warm" in my lap. Frosty (the white cat) used to do EXACTLY the same thing, not long before he died.  So I'm not liable to put her on the floor. 

I hope I never cry over a dead cat, wishing I'd let them spend more time in my lap, that I'd pet them more, that I'd let them sleep in my bed.  That would be awful. 

The ones I have lost, I was able to say I gave them pretty much everything they wanted, including a painless exit.  That's the only time I ever wish I had a gun - when I have a dying cat on my hands, and I'm waiting for the [censored] cab to take me to the emergency clinic. 

I've been meaning to talk about Apple.  I have NOT been happy with the government wanting the key to unlock Apple phones.  I believe that violates the 4th Amendment.  I applaud Apple for fighting this.  If I didn't love my Cricket so much I'd buy an Apple.  That, and I doubt my ability to figure out the OS. 

"But he's a terrorist" has been used to cover a lot of sins already, and at some point you need to stop.  Anyone who might have been caught probably figured out it was time to run when the guy went out in a "blaze of glory".  They have gone into hiding and are not going to be found in an address book. 

At the end of the day, I am an evangelical constitutionalist.  Not too happy about the "birthright" thing in the 14th, but other than that OK. 

I do feel sorry for the baby.  I hope they don't try to program him to become a "martyr" like his parents.  I hope he has a good life and a happy one. 

Torbie has been stealing my chair.  I have a plush chair - I sit in it to watch TV.  It is comprised of cushions in a wooden frame.  The covers have been scratched half to death by my wild gang.  But it's comfortable and it's my chair, when Torbie lets me have it. 

I woke up before my alarm today but went back to sleep.  Biscuit likes to sleep with me because he knows I will give him his seafood, or his "livers", whatever's around, first thing.  When the alarm went off, I gave him some Seafood (we're almost out of "livers"), and he gobbled happily.  He then indicated the water bowl was low, which I remedied. 

Unlike Torbie, Biscuit has figured out a good spot where I won't roll over on him.  Torbie wants to sleep by my right knee, and storm off in a huff when that doesn't work.  Shoulders!  Either shoulder would be great! 

But she's a cat, which means stubborn. 

I got up and took my shower.  I didn't do my God time, I meant to do it later, but I forgot when I turned on the computer.  Once I post this I will do it. 

I just went through my email.  Boy that is interesting, weeding through all the spam.  Did you get the "Hi hun" email?  I didn't open it.  My contacts know email is the very worst way to get ahold of me. 

Text me.  Call me.  Don't leave a voicemail, leave a text.  I will get back to you. 

Here's another thing I see: brown diamonds.  They used to be considered the most undesirable color, and only used for industrial purposes (mainly cutting and grinding).  But a mine in Australia produces a tremendous amount of brown diamonds every year.  What to do?  "Let's call them chocolate diamonds!"  So they have these huge promotions and half naked women caressing brown diamonds in their cleavage and they are the most worthless color.  I find that highly amusing. 

If you have a brown diamond, I'm sorry if I insulted you.  I will say they are at least (usually) conflict free and mined with ethical treatment of workers.  If I wanted a diamond, that would be very important to me. 

I like my cheap metal wedding rings, titanium (some) and tungsten (the one I'm wearing now).  Tungsten can break if dropped, it's a ceramic (I don't pretend to understand that), but I've had it for over a year with no problem.  It's a nice shiny silver color and it doesn't scratch.  I'm happy. 

Depression is back, but not too bad.  Yet. 

I think I'll go watch a movie with Ron.  He's up. 

"Now, don't freak out" "Well, I heard"

We got up at 2 AM today to go get a delivery.  The driver "forgot we were on the route" and was late.  Not only that, he was horrified when he got a look at me. 

"You cut your hair!"  Yeah.  I'm glad I did and everyone likes it. 
[gaping in horror]
"It's still me, you know." 
[gaping in horror]
"You want a sandwich?"
[nods mutely]
I guess I couldn't win them all. 

I think I'm going out of the mania, boo.  Ron's usual negativity is really starting to annoy me, which is generally a sign I'm running depressed.  If I really listened to him, I swear I'd kill myself. 

No, that is not a threat, but I'm not as good at tuning him out when I'm depressed.   Ron bounces in and out but I'm more persistent. 

Anyway, lots of work yesterday and today, but it's all done. 

I figured out a little trick for the headaches: I take a dose of Aleve (naproxen) before bedtime and wake up WITHOUT  a headache, unlike the last, past, week. 

[Ick alert]

Ron's leg ulcer is either healing or getting infected.  It doesn't have any redness or swelling, but it looks grotesque.  I disinfected it. 

I know it's ugly when he says "Now don't freak out....", I know I will be confronted with a scene out of a horror movie.  If it's bad, he will go to a doctor, but it takes him forever to decide it's "bad".  In the meantime, I'm trying to clean this oozing crater, surrounded by angry red skin. 

[done with the ick]

My cycle should be starting pretty soon, but I'm not overly worried.  We get the "new" machines delivered at work the second week of March, thank God I will be done by then. 

The cats are good.  I woke up this morning with Biscuit and Torbie in my bed.  It was pretty crowded. 

My most poignant moment sleeping with a cat: Bubba.  I roll over from one side to the other, a lot, at night.  I woke up rolled over on Bubba, with him flailing away underneath me.  Happily that only happened once but it does get crowded. 

I'm fine with that. 

Yesterday, we went to the warehouse, got supplies, went to work: Truck Day.  The driver cut off some really nice guys and parked in such a way they couldn't load their truck.  I was Not Happy and let him know "These are nice guys". 

"Well" He replied "I just did to them what they did to me.  They should have pulled up further under the awning."  Because they didn't, apparently, that made it OK to angle his pickup in such a way they could barely open their tailgate. 

One of them came over to help "Because they were trying to get rid of us" said my driver - but this man has helped before. 

I gave him what I hope was a lovely smile and thanked him.  He knew I wasn't the one playing games. 

Not Happy.  It's one thing to yell at the food trucks when they park in the handicapped parking.  I can understand that.  But playing games like this because you don't like their parking? 

They have a business.  They are in a hurry.  Well, he replied, if they learned their lesson it won't happen again. 

Sometimes I wonder if he is trying to provoke confrontations, lately. 

We got to work.  He stood around while I unloaded with a little help from Ron. That's fine.  I don't need someone getting hurt and putting it on us.  I'd rather do my own work.  This happens every time.  He also has some health issues. 

One time I dropped a case of soda, oh, that was a mess, but I only had myself to blame. 

Anyway, got it unloaded, barely managed to put it away.  We went home.  I got a nap, barely, and then had to turn around and go to bed a couple hours later. 

I didn't sleep well, I normally don't on delivery eve.  I did see one neighbor leaving when we did so that explains why most of them are very quiet at night. 

We had to pick up some other clients on the way to work, including him.  I don't like him.  He is weird.  Not quirky, just weird.  He stands too close when talking to me, but not when talking to other men.  He makes odd comments and gets into my business. 

A good example.  He took his sweet time coming out so I got out my needlework.  I was working on it as he boarded.  I kept my eyes on my work. 

"When are you making ME something?"
"I'm not" He got all nasty after that.  Look, you're married.  Have your wife or kid make you something.  I'm not your wife.  I haven't even made my Dad anything other than a hat.  Why would I make a complicated project for someone I don't even like?  I didn't say any of this. 

Later on he gets started talking about the accident, asking questions - just to be nosy and have something to gossip about - not out of any real desire to hear what happened. 

"Well," he said "I heard it was [your fault, Heather]." 

[side note: how is it my fault that a grown man running his own business chose to go to work by himself, and someone else chose to run a red light while talking on a cell phone?]

"People say a lot of things." I replied, and went back to my needlework.  Ron defended me but I thought HOW RUDE.  Even if it's true, and it's not, how is it going to fix or improve anything by throwing rocks at me, 13 years later? 

Next time I will say "I don't put any stock in what people hear.  It's all gossip, isn't it?  I don't gossip, and I'm ending the conversation." 

Ugh.  I STILL have to deal with the backstabbing and the rock throwing. 

There was a witness to the accident.  From what I have gathered, he was an on-the-clock POSTAL driver, who told Ron It was safe to go.

I met this man's son.  I was jogging one day and this boy came up screaming at me, asking, angrily, why my husband was alive because "My Daddy saw him hit and fall down like he was dead.  He's supposed to be dead, why isn't he dead?!"  The boy was about 10-12 years old. 

The boy was black.  The driver was latino, and lives in a completely different part of town. 

When we tried to find this person, they hid him.  The police officer told me there was a witness but somehow it didn't make it onto the report.  The police officer was probably too busy spending the money he stole from Ron, to do that.

I believe all the postal attacks and fingerpointing are actually meant to deflect attention from the responsible party, who told Ron it was safe to go.

Had we been able to find, and sue this person, the postal truck insurance would have actually taken care of us.  The paltry $2K settlement we got from the man who ran him over was a joke.  It just got the hospital off our credit report. 

Am I angry at this person?  No.  I'm a little disgusted at his cowardice.  Their insurance would have paid, he would have kept his job, and he wouldn't have even had a mark on his driving record.   I hope it bothers him.  I hope he has nightmares. 

Am I angry at the post office for hiding this man?  Somewhat.  We suffered a lot, financially, and we didn't have to, because "everyone" assumed "Everyone gets $800K from a car accident like we see on the TV accident lawyers, they don't need to bother our guy." 

But the statute of limitations ran out 133 months ago.  I can't carry around resentment, even though some people have told me we didn't get a big settlement because we were "stupid and hired the wrong lawyer".   I guess having a Yale lawyer in the family doesn't count (he did not manage the case but a well known firm downtown did). 

Of course, I still had to work through all of this because that guy made those comments to me.  Oh, I don't like that man. 

I HATE that he rides paratransit.  With us.  So I do my best to ignore him. 

Everyone knows "that person".  Occasionally, I admit, I can be that person, especially if I'm manic or depressed. 

Lord, don't let me be that person. 

I'm working on it. 

It's a moment

Sunday night the neighbors were making noise in the backyard (not much, but enough) until about an hour after my "bedtime".  I was pretty tired Monday. 

I have had a nasty headache pretty much every day, lately.  I went to work in spite of it and did what I had to do. 

I came home, got a nap, and watched a movie with Ron.  He swore it was "funny and really good".  I was not happy to see it was a Woody Allen film.  I found it very depressing, especially the adultery scene.  It, to me, ended the evening on a depressing note. 

Then I had a nightmare about Donald Trump.  Last night, I had a nightmare about Ted Cruz.  I asked God to make my voting clear, I want to put the right person in office, but I never expected actual nightmares. 

I'm sure at least one of them would be horrified. 

Anyway, horrible headaches every day this week so far.  Sunday had the vomiting migraine.  Monday had the bad headache.  Tuesday had the bad headache. 

"Why" Ron asked "Do you get so many headaches?"

"Lithium Carbonate", I replied, as I swallowed OTC headache pills. 

He swore. 

Yeah. 

Today had the bad headache.  But first let's go back to Tuesday.  Are you dizzy yet? 

Tuesday I slept in until 7, woke up with the headache.  Ron and I watched a completely depressing movie about 2 people dying of cancer.  This is what he wants to watch on his day off? 

After the rain, I decided to take the bus to the grocery store, make the deposit to cover my health insurance.  Ouch.  I could have a lot of fun with that money. 

Ron was asleep so I left him, took my phone, and rode the bus.  I made the deposit and bought some powdered drink mix. 

I had talked to Ron by now, and he was interested in the chicken special.  If you have a Popeyes in your area, do they have the dark meat 2 piece special on Tuesdays?  We do, it's $1.29.  I bought 2 and then went to McDonald's and bought myself two junior cheeseburgers and a small fry. 

I ate the fries, hot and delicious, as I waited on the bus.  The wind was blowing from the west and my hair whipped around my head under the looming dark skies (but it didn't rain). 

I came home.  We ate our dinner and watched "Penelope" a cute movie with some very good actors.  It was a cute romantic comedy.  Much better than the depressing morning selection. 

Yes, the morning movie was "good" but it was really depressing.  "It's a good thing" I scolded Ron "I'm manic.  If I were depressed this would make me kill myself!" 

Today I woke up with yet another bad headache.  We went to the warehouse and got some candy.  Our pickup was late, then rode us around for 2 hours before dropping us at work (all legal and permissible, it's the chance you take riding paratransit), well after our appointment time (not OK). 

We had one hour in which to stock.  Good luck with that!  Ensue frantic scramble.  We did what we could. 

We left, and on the way home Ron's boss called my cell phone.  Ron can be a little - ah - reactive so the boss prefers to talk to me direct. 

He asked what equipment we needed.  I told him.  He said he was bringing a new coffee machine.  Booo.  I didn't say that. 

Coffee machines are high-drama, high-stakes, customers screaming at you and calling you at 1 AM because they didn't get their creamer, expensive to maintain, problem children.  We'd rather not have one at all. 

He said it was all happening on the 7th.  OK.  At least we have some time to prepare.  Thank God it is not on a DR Pepper delivery day - we have to get to work at 4-5 in the morning.  The new equipment deliveries never come until around noon.  This is happening on a Monday, a much more reasonable day for us. 

I'll just have to get some treats for the guys.  But I have plenty of time. 

We came home and I got a nap.  Yay.  We did have the garbage trucks riding around and one of the "neighbors" was blasting loud polka music.  Ugh.  Sometimes I think the devil wants to make me a racist. 

Then I remind myself, my expectations are not reasonable, considering.  I grew up in some pretty high end neighborhoods.  Even back then, the houses were valued in the 6 figures.  We didn't have a maid, and the kids did the yard work, but other than that it was a very nice area, and, naturally, very quiet. 

But the median home price in Houston is about $175K, averaging two estimates.  The average home in my subdivision costs about 145K.  My home is valued at about 70K (rounding up).  So, you can see, I get a third of the average. 

If I'm getting one third the price I should expect 1/3 the quality, the civilization, sometimes.  I know that sounds awful but I try to be practical.  I'm going to have disruptions. 

The noisy polka man has started up again.  He likes to (and this, to me, is so trashy), open the doors on his truck, turn up the car stereo, open his front door, and play the music loudly so he can hear it in the house, I suppose. 

Doesn't he know about loose animals?  I would worry about someone's dog getting loose and defecating on my seats, or getting into my home and becoming aggressive.  I would worry about home invasion thugs, keys in the ignition (they are, aren't they?  To play the stereo?), etc.  I would worry. 

I would just go and spend some money on a boom box of one of those mp3 docking stations.  That's me.  I guess, in his world, listening to the car, from the house, is the done thing. 

I'm not even angry, just baffled and more than a little resigned. 

Ron turned on "the ocean" - I bought him a subliminal relaxation CD set to the sound of an ocean (he knows about it), as his solution.  He uses it to drown out annoying background, or when he wants to sleep.  Are we more relaxed?  No. 

I turned on my own music. 

So, I got a nap. 

I woke up and gave Biscuit his "livers".  I bought some Sheba Chicken and Liver wet food, I thought they might like it.  Biscuit adored it.  So did Baby Girl and God knows who else. 

We went to Walmart.  I got all my medication.  It was a sack, literally.  A huge sack of bottles. 

I never really feel "crazy" until I look at my medication, or the long string of prescriptions.  I look at it in resignation and more than a little awe: I need all this just to stay alive and functional.  Then, I'm glad I have it, but it's a moment. 

I will never, in my life, forget the moment I was told I could take medication for my illness.  I had a condition.  It had a name.  I could treat it. 

I didn't have to endure until I died.  I could fix this. 

I also remember my profound frustration as I tried to find a prescribing doctor!  My illness escalated and I asked my aunt to help.  She found me Doc. 

The minute I met Doc I liked him.  Then he went into the sample cabinet and started handing me bottles.  "Take this in the morning." 

It was morning.  I opened it up and took the prescribed dose.  Doc laughed.  "You're going to do fine!   Take one of those, too." 

That's one of the things I love about myself (and you will very seldom hear me use that phrase): the minute I was literally given medication, I took it.  I had a very clear idea, by this point (2 months after diagnosis), what I could expect. 

Honestly, though, I expected more digestive issues and fewer headaches, but everyone's different.  I try not to complain.  While my hands shake, I can still do my needlework, albeit slowly. 

I figure some newly diagnosed person, or family member, reads me now and then, trying to get a grasp on this illness.  I hope I can provide some insight:
1.  Take your meds as directed.
2.  Accept the side effects as necessary.
3.  Avoid drugs and alcohol. 

The three keys to success.  And I won't even charge you!  :p   I should put that in a sidebar or something. 

We went shopping "for fun" now.  I bought more "livers" and cat treats.  Ron wanted plastic bags.  I needed soda. 

Then I hit the yarn section. 

Ron had remarked I was a little manic.  In my opinion, it was a good mania.  I was talkative but I could shut up.  Energetic but I could slow down. 

However, I was a little interested in the yarn aisle.  I staggered off with 13 skeins and various "notions" (supplies), moaning "I need to stop".  Thank God I had a gift card. 

I do, however, have plenty of new projects.  One of which involves a denim heather and a gray heather worked together.  I don't know if I will knit or crochet that one. 

"It's nice to see you up" Ron said as we approached the checkout. 

Yeah, I told him.  I used to feel guilty about the manias, that I was feeling "too good", but then I realized, screw it!  I have spent too much of my life suicidal to feel guilty about feeling good, for a change.  As long as I was taking everything as directed, I told him, I wasn't going to feel bad about it.   My lithium levels are perfect. 

God knows the depression will come soon enough. 

Yarn porn and poltics

Ugh.  I woke up with a migraine today.  I didn't view it as "too bad" until I vomited about an hour ago. 

After that, I immediately began craving ice water.  I drank some, I've been OK, and the worst of the headache pain is gone. 

Maybe I just had to purge some toxins. 

Did you know I was an exercise bulimic?  I would binge and then do a 2 hour workout the next day.  One reason (aside from low energy levels) I don't have a formal workout plan.  I worry about resuming, injury, etc. 

Anyway, I did manage my God Time if not my shower. 

I fed Biscuit, gagging on the seafood fumes.  Then we took a nap (Biscuit and I). 

I slept, off and on, for a couple of hours, my headache got worse, I got up and took some more Excedrin, the last of the bottle.  Thank God I got more yesterday.  The 200 count bottle ought to hold me for a while.  I hope!  How awful it if only lasted a couple weeks! 

Side note: I told Doc I was a little worried about my OTC painkiller use.  "How many doses are you taking?" he asked. 

"About fifteen" I told him. 

"A day?"

"A month". 

"Nothing to worry about."  I then told him I figured the aspirin would be beneficial, anyway, with my family history of heart attacks and strokes.  He agreed. 

Today I took two doses.  One at 4-something and one at 1 PM.  I took it with pepto, not that it really helped my stomach. 

Happily I digested the painkiller before I vomited, but the (not to harp on the subject) purge seemed to flip the switch on my migraine, shutting it down. 

I suspect it was the Snickers bar I ate yesterday.  Chocolate candy, peanut butter candy, not happening! 

Either that or the weather front, hormones, whatever,  my aunt has a dozen theories (and a neurologist, poor thing!). 

The ice water is helping.  I have goosebumps but I feel better. 

Ron was pretty nice, tried to be quiet, yelled at God "on my behalf" when he thought I couldn't hear him.  So Ron gets 4 stars today. 

The cats have been nice, too.  They can tell I'm hurting.  Torbie got on me while I was sleeping, watching me.  Biscuit slept with me.  What a sweet boy.  Gravy licked my hand, and Baby Girl has let me use the computer room. 

Gravy is in the "good" computer chair with the padding. I am in the hard wooden kitchen table chair.  Baby Girl was in the "good" chair yesterday so I moved it and sat in the hard one.  Gravy took the good one over before I could, so I'll just deal with the wood cutting into my legs right now. 

He looks so cute, when he curls up you can see the two gray spots on his back.  Three. 

They're such good babies. 

I never, ever, wanted to be a "cat lady".  I wanted to be a woman with a couple of cats, not four!  But I couldn't leave Biscuit and Gravy to die at the bus stop.  I couldn't find a rescue.  Ron refused to take them to the shelter (they are cute enough they would have been adopted).  So, I'm a cat lady. 

Surprisingly, they aren't really any work.  Ron feeds them, I water them, they use the spot behind the rosebush (which has very lush growth LOL).  Everyone is fixed. 

My phone is great but will only take a 10 second video, and I have problems with the Youtube uploader now.  But I can take photos and put them up, and I will.  I have started 2 projects. 

I will, if you're interested, try to get a photo of myself working on a project.  I can ask someone at work to take a "selfie" while I'm working. 

I think I can abide the thought of some quinoa cooked in a little broth.  I'm not up for a lot but it is bland and nourishing. 

Not that I need a lot of carbs! 

Speaking of carbs, I am trying to figure out my diet.  Jenny, from the www.bloodsugar101.com website, says I don't need to worry overmuch with an A1C of 5.3.  That's good to know, but she says I should cut out junk carbs. 

One big thing I can do for that are the salt tablets.  Many times I snack because I am craving salt.  I don't want the chips, I want what's on them. 

I have, in the past, taken a salt tablet (which has the equivalent of one junk food serving's worth of salt) when craving a snack and it worked.  No more craving. 

It is a little bit of a pain to order them because "everyone" is trying to cut down on salt, not take it in a tablet!  Worst case, I can buy some on Amazon, but they are significantly more expensive than my pharmacy. 

I'm hoping, as I do this, I will "only" eat a couple of Arby's curly fries (best fry ever!) when I'm eating out with Ron, more salads when we go to the nicer restaurant, healthier veggie snacks (like celery or carrots + ranch) instead of endless canisters of Lays Stax, the most delicious chip ever created.   Or pretzels.  I can eat a lot of pretzels. 

When I was a teenager, and I had some money at the mall, I loved to get the huge soft pretzel dipped in salt. 

I think I'm feeling better. 

Anyway, the goal being better quality carbs in my life, fewer trash carbs, still got a good sodium level.  I actually have to "worry" about that, because lithium will push sodium out of the body, like a bully, and despite what you hear you do need SOME salt to keep things working. 

I don't want to put crap in my body.  And BISCUIT! has come to visit!  I don't play favorites but if I did he would be at the top of, or near the top, of the list. 

Done petting. 

I have some really nice cats. 

My Dad hates cats, but we can't all be perfect.  Dad did ask me an interesting question: who did I like in the election. 

"Well," I told him "I want someone who's good for small business." 

He suggested I check out Kasich.  He looks good in some regards, especially in financial management.  However I have some religious issues. 

I checked out Trump.  I love his tax plan.  I think we need to be "strong" on immigration.  But I have some other issues with him. 

Same with Carson, I like his religious issues but have problems with others.  Like defunding Medicare.  My husband relies on that.  We kind of need it. 

So, basically, I didn't find a prince.  I found a couple of dudes I might take on a first date. 

And we all know, during an election year, everyone wants to know your candidate.  They want to talk about your candidate, and how he is good or bad for the country. 

Now, after the last election, Ron was very upset.  I reminded him (and God did too), that God will install exactly the candidate He needs to get the job done, whatever the job may be.  That we don't need to stress out over people because God will work His will regardless.  God can, and will, use anyone to work his will. 

My personal theory: I believe Trump will win.  He is saying what people want to hear, and he could not be more different from the incumbent. 

My personal nightmare: Sanders elected.  Bad for small business, and at the end of the day I have to protect my own interests! 

So, I will pray on it and see where God leads me.  Honestly, I did not vote in the primaries - I never have.  I have always been a registered Independent.  I would say a conservative, evangelical,  independent.  Sadly, no one is running on that ticket! 

However I vote I will endeavor to keep it civil.  My drivers are very excited about Trump.  These are the same folk who have been praising the incumbent for the last 8 years.  I find that very interesting. 

Maybe I will talk about the things I like, about the candidate being discussed.  I could do that.  I doubt anyone else is even thinking (at least in my circle) about Carson or Kasich. 

Cruz looks good on paper but something about him puts my hackles up.  The last time that happened, the candidate was elected - in 2008.  We all see how that worked. 

Agh.  My headache will come back. 

No more politics. 

I did want to cover what's going on in my head, though. 

Let's do some yarn porn:

Granny square afghan.  Black in the middle, surrounded by the blue mix.  Not the best photo here because it's pretty dim in my house. 

These are not good photos.  This is the "Sequoia" blend with the large knitting needles. 

This came out a little better.  I don't have a flash on my phone.  This is the wrap I'm doing in garter stitch, "locked down" on a straight needle so I don't lose my work. 

You may notice the first item is a crochet project and the latter are knit.  I learned to knit in 2006, Thanksgiving week, right after my diagnosis and medication.  I was thrilled.  One reason I put the knitting thing in my blog title. 

I always figured I was "too stupid" to knit.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Continental_knitting
From the link: "is knitting style is often easier to learn for people with crocheting experience, since the way the yarn is held in the left hand is similar to crochet, and the motion of the right hand is similar to the motion seen in crochet, although the knitting needle is held under the palm of the hand."  That was certainly the case for me. I could never learn it the "standard" way, but once I found "left handed" directions (which is funny because I am right handed), it became simple. 

I learned to crochet when I was 8, and I loved it.  I often started, and finished, large projects when I was manic.  I'm a visual learner, so I don't have trouble reading patterns.  In fact, I crocheted an afghan (2 strand granny square on an S hook) for each of Ron's care providers and doctors.  I hold the hook like a pencil, that's how I learned and that's how it works. 

If I had kids I would teach them, boys and girls, to knit and crochet when they were about 7-8 years old.  The brain is still growing and flexible. 

I have good cats who don't maul the yarn.  They prefer to chew on cords for electronic devices.  My USB mini plug has been totally mauled.  I'm glad I got it at the dollar store. 

Happily, I can buy bitters spray for that. 

It would be a lot harder to manage for a cat, and they often see it as a game.  One reason I have NEVER taught my cats to play with "strings".  Otherwise, there I am, twitching a delightfully long string, just waiting for fun. 

I have used a lot of hooks and needles over the years.  I'm currently using aluminum straight needles and a plastic crochet hook.  I have used bamboo, interchangeables, handcarved wood, circulars, plastic, and something called "Balene".  I go back to plastic. 

If I had straight knitting needles, in plastic, 14 inches long, I would probably love them.  That's something I might just get on Amazon.  I am happy, for now, with the aluminum straights (very inexpensive!). 

For crochet, it has GOT to be a plastic crochet hook.  I have some Red Hearts, and some Susan Bates.  Both are great brands.  I am much faster crocheting than I am knitting. 

That about sums up my whole crafting life. 

Ron woke up and has been pretty decent today.  He told me he realizes he has been too clingy (not his words).   Good. 

My headache is finally gone.  I cooked up some quinoa.  It's carby but has protein in it.  I added some coconut oil too. 

I do want to take care of myself. 

Tight

I was pretty pissed at Ron.  I didn't appreciate him throwing money at me and telling me to go away (to Walmart).

I woke up with a headache, feeling resentful.  I took a shower and did my God Time, then figured, screw it, I really do need those headache pills (I bought 400 today). 

I called Lou the cab driver.  He regretfully told me he couldn't do it: he had to take an old man to the bank, barber shop, and grocery store, and he wouldn't be done for hours.  I asked him if he could pick me up at Walmart around 11:30 and he said yes. 

Good, I told him.  I can get there, it's getting home I worry about.  One time I waited nearly 3 hours on a cab that never came.  He assured me he'd get me home (and he did). 

I called the cab company and a driver showed up within 10 minutes.  Impressive.  He was a very nice Nigerian man.  I met several, very nice, Nigerian men today. 

I do play favorites.  I love Nigerians.  They are very bright souls, fun, smart, and have a great attitude.  They are hard workers, too.  I respect them tremendously. 

I got to Walmart.  I got the headache pills first thing, happy to see they make a bottle of 200.  [sigh]  I eat a lot of headache pills.  I got some Pepto tablets to take with the headache pill so I don't eat a hole in my stomach. 

Then I put in for my refills.  It's about time.  The clerk reluctantly told me they didn't have enough lithium to fill the prescription and I told him Monday was fine.  He seemed very relieved when I told him I don't let myself run out of medication.  I also put in an order for some salt tablets, which may or may not get processed. 

I crave a lot of salt because I lose a lot of salt.  Doc told me the lithium ion pushes the sodium ion out of the body, and it has to be replaced.  That's why lithium drug inserts have a lot of warnings: don't change your salt intake. 

I would rather take a tablet (I have, and it worked great) than eat salty foods. 

That done, I went off for num-nums (cat food).  I got a good supply and then got some makeup brushes for my mineral makeup.  I have mineral makeup at home.  I don't really wear it, but I certainly can.  However, I needed new brushes for that to happen. 

I looked at clothes, but didn't get anything except a new bra - padded, so a certain popeyes will stop gaping at me. 

By this time, I was having fun, in spite of my headache. 

But wait!  I almost forgot the yarn!  I headed over to the department, touching the yarn, looking at it.  I bought a ball of "Scrubby".  I can make a bag, put my soap scraps in it, and use it for exfoliation. 

That done, I picked up some "Macaw" by Red Heart.  I really like the colorway (scheme).  It is a pretty mix of cobalt blue and turquoise.  As I rounded the corner, I saw an endcap: Lion Brand Yarn, Thick and Quick, Sequoia print.  It was gorgeous.  I immediately wanted to make myself something.  I deliberated for a while (it would cost about $25 for what I wanted, 5 balls), and decided to do it.  But wait, I would need some needles.  It said 9 mm needles but I am "tight" in my handicrafts so I use a larger needle.  I got the 10 mm. 

About this time I realized I was a little manic.  Not too bad, but I might want to put an end to the spending.  OK. 

I thought it was funny, makeup brushes sitting in the cat food, the bra sitting with some Cup Of Noodles for work, balls of yarn mixed up with cans of  "people" tuna for my dinner.  Only at Walmart. 

I paid for everything.  I thought it was interesting, the store manager was directing customers to various checkout lanes.  I didn't have any waiting (at a little before 11 on a Saturday), and had a favorite cashier. 

I have a lot of favorites.  I like the old-timers who have been around for a while.  She even remembered I like to use my own bags. 

After I paid, everything (one entire bag consumed by the yarn binge) rode along in my cart as I went to the McDonald's.  I bought a 10 piece chicken nugget with BBQ sauce. 

I went outside and called Lou, who said "I'm looking at you".  Oh, he was the cab at the far end of the parking lot!   It was 11:08, I'd said 11:30.  I love a punctual man. 

He came right over - fastest cab ride ever, I told him, and took me home.  I ate my nuggets, my purchases on the floor around me, and took my medication.  I took a nap for about an hour. 

When I got up, I did a little handiwork and got ready for work.  We headed off to work.  It needed stocking, but not tremendously so.  I helped Ron even though he was a little weird. 

That's on him.  My job is making God happy. 

Ugh.  My head has been killing me ALL DAY.  We finished up. 

When we came out, our ride was waiting for us.  Unusual.  We had a good ride home. 

Ron wanted me to watch the end of "Jeremy" and tell me if she moved or not.  I told him what happened.  He fell asleep. 

We have tomorrow off but I might go somewhere, depending, on the bus. 

I'll have to see what the headache decides to do, first. 

Unacceptable

Ron is now drinking and sulking in the kitchen.  Why?  I wouldn't watch a movie with him. 

Well, to be more accurate, I wouldn't watch his movie with him.  When I turned on my TV "Riddick" was starting.  I like the series, I hadn't seen it.  I wanted to watch the movie so I did.  "Pitch Black" is still the best of the series. 

Ron could have watched it with me. 

He chose not to, then he sulked because I didn't watch the one he had chosen.  "Ron," I told him "I don't want to watch a romance movie every night." 

1.  It's unrealistic. 
2.  When married to an emotional abuser, it's very depressing.  I didn't tell him that.  I just told him I didn't want to watch a romance movie every night.  It is abusive to make me sit through a movie where the guy's all respectful and appreciative, when I don't have it.  Cruel.  I wish I could tell him that.  He would just say it was my fault, if I were "better" he would act like the guy in the movie. 

Now he's making threats: he's going to send me away, he's going to have an affair, our marriage is over.  All because I refused to watch a romance movie with him. 

No, he's decided, it's all over.  I have destroyed my marriage by refusing, I'll remind you again, to watch a romance movie with him. 

I need to go to Walmart to buy headache pills, cat food, and groceries.  Ron decided to "punish" me by cancelling the trips, telling me to "take the bus" (that would be a 3 hour round trip and over a mile of walking, assuming I could even carry the groceries), or "take a cab" - they never do pickups at Walmart on the weekend.  One day I waited nearly 3 hours, before giving up and calling someone else to give me a ride home. 

Great.  I will go sometime next week, hoping, in the meantime, I don't get a lot of headaches. 

I'll let you draw your own conclusions.  I'm going to leave it at that.  I think, in a situation like this, it is better to just relate factually and leave it at that. 

An evangelist I respect once wrote that the Devil loves to attack us (believers doing evangelism) through our own families.  The closer the relationship, the worse the attacks (my view).  I certainly can't argue with that. 

I want to be more than Ron's "playmate".  What do you want to do?  OK, let's do it... seldom even once considering what I might like to do, or the fact that sometimes I'd like to spend some time by myself.  We will only consider your wants/needs and seldom consider mine.  He sleeps in the afternoon and is up all night (generally quiet, and for that I thank him), so he has plenty of time to himself - but gets bitter, resentful, and abusive when I ask for time for myself.  It's totally unrealistic. 

There's a reason people get time off.  They need a break, whether it's a job, avocation, or relationship.  We need an 8 hour break every night: sleep.  I think any specialist would say wanting, needing, and obsessing about being together 24/7 is a sign of a deeply unhealthy and codependent relationship, especially when you factor in the general lack of respect and verbal abuse.   Whenever I set a boundary, even a small one, he throws a tantrum and gets extremely verbally abusive.  He also gets very upset if I have a different interest than him. 

I once took a poll, and found out Ron was verbally abusing me in just about every way possible.  Body shaming, threats of cheating, financial threats, name-calling, sleep deprivation, spiritual abuse - mocking and deriding my faith, you get the idea. 

Worst of all, I find myself getting impatient.  I ignore him.  I pretend I don't hear him.  I put up emotional walls.  I stop caring.  He can hold my hand, saying the nicest things, and all I can think is "Yeah, right.  When are you going to call me a stupid [censored] again?"  And, I suspect, part of that becomes self-fulfilling.  I don't know.  But I don't like seeing that in myself. 

I wonder if I should even try to fight it, or keep up my walls and firm up my boundaries.  I always go back to: yes.  I should.  So I do. 

He's on the phone now.  I think that is the saddest.  When he is drinking he gets lonely, yet he is so offensive when he is drinking he has driven off all his old friends.  Only one or two take his calls, very occasionally, and only then I think to gossip about how badly he is doing. 

I didn't start writing to run him down; but to share my pain.  He treats me like crap.  He has tantrums.  When he does, his behavior is abhorrent.  He thinks any form of verbal abuse is perfectly OK, and it's not. 

It's not, but he thinks it is, and no one can tell him otherwise.  I believe God is working on him but I honestly don't see any improvement.   The alcoholic blackouts have stopped, thank God for that, but that's it. 

I could handle some difficulty if I truly believed, if I had a gold-plated assurance, it was the head injury, if the behavior were consistent across the board no matter the situation.  I like to think I would have a lot more humor and understanding. 

For something he "can't control", he does.  Generally speaking he is not cruel to me in front of witnesses - no matter the provocation.  He is always completely polite and respectful to me in front of authority figures, like his boss, my family, and our drivers. That, to me, says he knows, on some level - exactly what he is doing. 

And that is unacceptable. 

"I'm interested in learning about God"

I store all my Bibles, in their boxes, on an industrial rack I keep in my living room.  It's the first thing you see when I open the door.  I also keep the Bible crate, a collapsible "milk crate" sized receptacle, on the rack as well, empty. 

Well, I had been storing it with the Bible bag and my safety vest, on the rack.  My elderly cat, Torbie, liked to sleep in it.  You'll see why this matters. 

You may or may not know they had a fatal shooting in 5th Ward, a "bad" neighborhood in NE Houston, not far from downtown.  A car was sprayed with bullets, a man died, two days ago.  While watching coverage of the event, I realized the corner had a "perfect" median for a Bible Handout, not to mention a clear need. 

I have wanted to "work" the 5th ward, in part because my husband grew up there and it's pretty grim.  I can always tell a bad neighborhood when the poor gas station clerk is locked in a Plexiglas cage, making change through a small hole in the counter.  It looked like that kind of spot. 

I was right, the corner was surrounded by boarded-up, dilapidated houses.  Open ditches full of trash.  The gas station clerk worked out of a cage, and I had some unexpected excitement. 

First, though, I had to make the trip.  I was very excited to see they had a Burger King. 

Everyone, I think, had a childhood hamburger restaurant.  The place you went with your friends, full of happy memories.  Mine is Burger King.  Ron, too. 

Once Ron heard about the BK he was totally on board.  One time, I had the easiest time ever getting him to church because they had a BK in the parking lot!  Sadly, that church had to move. 

I set up the Bibles, a case of easy-to-read (large print), a case of kid Bibles (large print and easy to read, with pictures), 30-some ESV New Testaments, and assorted whole, nice, KJV Bibles.  All told, I had 124. 

Most of them crammed into Torbie's folding crate, the rest into the bag, and the kid Bibles stayed in their cardboard case. 

I got out our battered old wheelchair.  Ron sits in the wheelchair, holding the small sign, while I work.  He also holds the crate on the handles of the wheelchair while I'm pushing it from our drop off location to the handout location. 

We got the address, 3009 Collingsworth, and sure enough Ron's old zip code.  Definitely 5th ward, also known as "The Bloody Fifth".  When I did a news article search on 5th ward shootings I got plenty. 

Ron made the trip, giving us about an hour and a half.  One hour to work, half an hour to eat hamburgers.  :) 

I am also very partial to a bag of Queso chips after a Bible Handout. 

Our ride arrived on time and was very nice.  I gave her two Bibles, one for her, one for her daughter. 

I got Ron settled in the wheelchair and put the Bibles across the handles (the crate is wider than the handles, so Ron just has to balance them, but it looks horribly abusive).  I pushed him across the street (I had seen on Google maps, nice ramps, concrete median). 

"This would be hell" I told Ron, surrounded by concrete "In the summer.  Hot."  He agreed.  He loves the median, though, easy travel and safe to sit. 

My last handout, at Rankin and Ella, had huge fire ant mounds everywhere.  I felt like I was working a minefield! 

I put up the sign and immediately handed out two to an older, stressed looking gentleman.  Then a lady wanted Spanish, but I didn't have it in the bag.  "Come back!" I begged.  "I have them right there!"  I pointed. 

Then I got some Spanish and put them in my bag! 

I kept working.  One lady asked for large print in a tone that indicated she did NOT expect it.  "How many?"  I handed her the easy-to-reads. 

I LOVE having a good stash.  The right tool for every recipient.  I handed out the KJV first, and they were very popular.  They were various colors, nice softcover, fake leather, helps, words of Christ in red, kind of Bible.  People were nicely surprised they were getting "nice" Bibles.   One lady told me her Bible was falling apart and she'd been thinking about a new one. 

I had a couple people tried to give me money.  I never accept cash during a handout.  I have the Go Fund me for that.  I just tell the recipients "I have friends on the internet who buy the Bibles."  True enough, but I buy plenty too. 

I really want some Bible promise books, for instance, they are great to hand out everyday. 

Anyway.  I didn't take any money, which as it turns out was a good thing. 

"This is not as bad as Acres Homes" I told Ron.  "Compared to that, this is Disneyland."  The long median really reminded me of Veterans and Antoine, too. 

Unlike Acres Homes and Bissonet, I didn't see any prostitutes.  Unlike Acres Homes, I didn't see any drug dealers, but maybe they weren't up yet. 

I often think it would be great to get a big map of Houston and put a pin in every corner where I've worked a Handout. 

The Spanish lady came back, driving the other way, and got 2 Bibles.  I was thrilled.  I hate it when they don't come back. 

I had some good traffic in Spanish.  One guy told me he had a Bible, but when he saw I had Spanish he took it eagerly.  Good.  Two other Spanish guys wanted the King James.  Well, God will help them with it! 

Kid Bibles remained popular.  "Do you have any kids/grandkids who'd like a kid Bible?"  I gave most of them away. 

One lady pulled up.  I could tell she spoke Spanish.  I held up two Bibles outside her open window.  She stared at them intently for a minute or two and then took them. 

I had plenty of ladies, alone in their cars, who were just delighted to get a Bible.  Plenty also told me (men and women) they already had Bibles, but grinned in a way that told me they liked what I was doing. 

Everyone (save one to be mentioned later) was very polite.  No one "swatted" me away.  They either wanted a Bible or they ignored me. 

About this time I saw a man walking around.  He was older, shabbily dressed, and on foot.  He was accompanied by 3 dogs, running wild.  One darted into the feeder road and I cringed, not wanting to see the poor thing hit by a car. 

Like some of the other people I'd seen, he wandered around for a while, then he crossed the street partway at the end of the median, and walked up.  Another man had done this and cut off to the right, before I could give him a Bible.  I watched him as I worked, wondering if he wanted a Bible. 

He came up, about 4 feet in front of me, standing with the crate of Bibles at his feet.  His dog ran over and sniffed it, interestedly (remember the cat?). 

Don't pee on the Bibles. I thought at the dog.  Don't pee. 

"How many would you like?" I asked cheerfully. 

"I would like" he said precisely "For you to leave." 

What?

"I want you to leave, now." he said, as though he had the authority, belied by his shabby clothes and loose mutts running around. 

I forget if I asked him why or just told him no, flatly. 

He then accused me of panhandling. 

I never accept money. I told him with dignity.  I don't need to beg.  I am handing out Bibles, only, and only to people who want them. 

"You need to leave" he repeated. 

"Well" I told him, "I won't."  He got angry.  "Why don't you call the police and have them sort this out?  I'm not touching the cars, impeding traffic, or accepting money.  I have a perfect, legal, right, to stand here and hand out Bibles for as long as I'd like.  If we call the police, by the way, YOU are going to get in trouble for those loose dogs!"

"Watch your tone" he said "Or those dogs might..." 

Oh, nice, threatening to sic his dogs on me.  They were all about 15 pound size, mixed breed terrier mixes and pretty harmless looking. 

And he was a good boy, or girl, and didn't pee on the Bibles.  The man looked like he'd like to, though. 

"You watch" he said grimly "I'm calling the police." 

"Go ahead" I told him calmly. 

It is nice to be informed and know my legal rights.  If I don't impede traffic, accept money, or touch the cars - if I work the median, public property - I have a complete legal right to evangelism. 

Once he realized I knew that, he left.  He sulked around for a while, waiting to see if I'd leave, and left himself after a couple minutes. 

Good.  I did not want to see one of those poor dogs hit by a car.  And I'm not a dog person. 

Ron theorizes he wanted the median for himself, to beg, using the dogs. 

After that, things really accelerated.  I wasn't getting a high volume of cars, I never did, but I was getting a high volume per car.  People wanted 2-5 Bibles each. 

Everyone has a family.  As I told them "You know someone who needs this."  They did, and they wanted a Bible for them, too. 

Pretty soon our hour was up.  We actually worked longer than an hour, I'm not sure how long, but we handed out 72 Bibles. 

We went to the gas station.  I paid the poor man in the cage and bought some Queso chips, then we went to Burger King. 

They had some interesting characters in there, one of whom was discussing the shooting.  "And I saw the Medical Examiner - he was gone just like that...."  Ron and I started witnessing to him. 

He helped us out of the store when our ride came, and I gave him a Bible.  "All your answers are in here" I told him. 

"Good" He said "I'm very interested in learning about God."  I told him I would be praying and we loaded up, and came home. 

That #6

I slept OK but woke up tired.  I had a headache.  Biscuit was begging for his num-num.  Spellchecker doesn't like that one (snort). 

Anyway, I got the cat fed, myself showered and dressed.  I did some of my God Time (did the rest later before I got online). 

We went to the warehouse and got supplies, then to work, stocked, came home.  I took a nap.  Ron wanted to go to the mall to get some takeout, that didn't work too well.  We ended up waiting an hour to go 4 miles. 

[sigh]  Ron was apoplectic.  I finally told him "I need you to stop".  He did, to his credit, for a while but he started up again. 

He was kind of needy, too.  Just when I was getting to the point of "LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!" he went off and found something else to do. 

I think, like small children, he has an instinct for when I've had enough.  He's pestering the cable provider right now. 

Interesting: the other day, when I had my blood test, the tech told me her mom is bipolar.  Today one of my drivers told me her brother is bipolar, and asked for advice.

I told her:
1.  Take meds consistently. 
2.  Remember side effects are worth it.
3.  No drugs or alcohol. 

I'd give that advice to anyone. 

I am about to do a Bible Handout in the 5th ward.  It is one of the worst neighborhoods in Houston. 

SW Houston, Fondren/Bissonet: done that.
Acres Homes: done the HELL out of that, literally.  Closest to home. 
Sunnyside: did it once, the rides each way were awful and Ron refused to ever go again. 

Now, I haven't done 5th Ward, which is in the Northeast part of town.  The other day, I saw a news story about a man shot in his car, while driving, who wrecked near Collingsworth and 59 (5th ward).  They had an aerial view from the helicopter.  It has a beautiful, huge, median, and a Burger King. 

Ron and I love Burger King.  "The worker is worthy of his wages". 

I have wanted to do 5th ward for years now.  I haven't because I didn't know a "good" corner.  Now I do. 

Best of all, if I wanted, I could even take the bus there each way.  It's only 2 buses.  That #6 is great, it runs everywhere. 

Excellent. 

I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow. 

I need a hamburger

I got my test results. 

Lithium level: .59 (perfect)
A1C: 5.3 (not even prediabetic!)
Livers and Kidney (grin): all in normal range. 

Good.  I don't need any more trouble in my life. 

This morning was frustrating.  Ron had called Sam's, and the other store said they had Pepsi in the 16.9 ounce size.  Ron made a trip to go there this morning. 

They did not have it, they only had the 24 ounce size like our regular store.  I did buy some granola bars.  Then we had to wait over an hour for a ride to work.  Neither of us were very happy about that.  I got out my knitting and added about an inch and a half to the project.  The point protectors work very well for "storing" the half knitted row on the straight needles. 

One of my "boyfriends" - a very nice man I am friendly with, picked us up so that made it better.  We got to work and got started. 

Someone started yelling about the bottled vendor.  It had a glitch.  God helped me fix it and it was working fine when we left. 

Snacks didn't need a tremendous amount of work, so I finished that quickly and then helped Ron fetching drinks, etc.  When we left, we had to wait a while on our next ride.  However, the weather was nice. 

I reminded myself they will be making "our" bench soon. 

I thought about getting out the knitting again (I have done so much knitting just waiting on rides), but didn't.   I think I only worked, like, half a row. 

Finally, our ride arrived, and it was my favorite Metrolift driver ever.  He has a great attitude and loves classic rock.  Ron and I have told him we will "steal" him if we ever win the lotto.  I would love to have him as my personal driver.  He is a really nice family man, too. 

We even had a straight ride home.  I checked my email, not really thinking the lab had any results for me. 

They did.  Good ones. 

Well, my BUN was a little low but I drink a lot of water.  I'm not going to worry about it, the internet says that is uncommon, and another webpage said a reading of 6 is not unusual.  I'm not worried because they ran "a bunch" of tests and the other ones were all fine. 

I took my nap.  I woke up with a headache. When I took my headache pills, I saw I was pretty low.  I won't be able to get to Walmart for a couple days, and I was craving a hamburger.  I need a hamburger every week or so. 

"I'm a hamburger girl" I'd told Ron earlier, and I am.  I love a good burger.  I don't need steak, and chicken often makes me queasy, but a good burger is always "just right". 

I decided to have a little outing.  There's a McDonald's on a busy street, right across from a grocery store, on my bus line.  I could get my burger and then some headache pills. 

I walked to the bus stop, rode the bus, and got my burgers.  I got the junior ones.  I could have just eaten one, I realized.  Next time I will.  I got two and greedily ate them both. 

I didn't get any fries, just a large diet beverage. 

Then I went to the grocery store.  I got a small bottle of name brand Excedrin, and some BC powders (they taste awful but can be taken without a beverage).  I got Ron some Creole Onion Kettle Chips.  He ought to enjoy them.  He was asleep and had the phone off.   He's still sleeping. 

I left and came home, a bit of a wait at the bus stop.  When I boarded it was standing room only.  Good.  If it's a busy route they will keep it and maybe expand the service. 

I added $5 to my card.  I have $24 on it now.  I ride for 60 cents a trip with free transfers for a couple of hours, so that's a lot of riding.  I try to keep it around $20.  I can go nearly anywhere on the bus, but I need fare to do it! 

They don't have unlimited passes in Houston like they did in CA.  I even had a combo pass for the bus and commuter train, two zones, before we moved.  Out here we basically have to pay for each trip. 

But, I'm "disabled" on their books - the only accommodation I have ever taken for being disabled, so I pay half fare.  I'll take it. 

I think I deserve that much.

A couple of straights

Somehow, last night, I ended up at "Let's do all my blood tests tomorrow". 

Not sure how that happened, I think I was a little manic.  Only manic, does it sound good to cough up hundreds of dollars and get a needle in my arm. 

I am also curious to get my A1C test results, because, if I have a blood sugar problem, I want to make it my bitch before it really harms me.  Not going to end up on dialysis (I will refuse it and die first), ulcers, blindness - really, BOTH of us?  Or amputations.  No.  Not if I can avoid it. 

My sugars remain about 20 points too high in the morning. 

I am also nearly due for my lithium level and chemistry panel.  Chem panel just basically checks if the livers and kidney working.  :p  I am at risk for kidney trouble due to the lithium, not a huge risk, but I need to be watched.  Doc scolded me several years ago, said lithium is only on the market because the doctors agreed to monitor kidney function every year.  Checking it yearly is NOT optional. 

I don't want him losing his license, or getting slapped.  And really, a "good" blood test is no different from checking my blood sugar in the morning.  In fact, it was a lot easier and less painful than that stupid "at home" A1C blood test I tried to do yesterday. 

So, why go do an AIC and then go in a month later to get the lithium and chemistry panel?  I see doc in about a month anyway, it seems prudent to give him an accurate picture now. 

So, last night found me taking my lithium later than normal (supposed to be 12 hours before the test), calling Lou the Cab Driver, and fasting this morning. 

I slept OK, woke up with a nasty headache around 5 AM.  I really hate headaches.  If this keeps up I'm going to need to buy another package (200 count) of generic headache tablets.  I took a couple and went back to bed, then got up. 

I took my shower and did my God Time, didn't eat, didn't drink a diet soda.  I wanted to, but fasting is fasting.  I know aspartame affects my blood sugar, so it seemed, to me, I shouldn't mess with what ought to be an accurate reading. 

When I checked at home it was about 115.  By the time I got to the lab I was outright hungry, so I think it will test lower than that. 

The tech was nice.  I had to have Ron call and get Doc's fax number because I'm not in the computer.  I also asked them to mail it and email it, too. 

I believe in redundancy, and I may have to take all this to my primary doc if Doc doesn't want to prescribe Metformin. 

Although, who's going to lie about borderline high blood sugar?  My little "daily fasting blood sugar" notebook ought to do it.  Metformin is a lot like lithium, it only works on people who need it. 

We went to the back and I explained "You have to tie it up and slap it".  She declined, but she did tie off my arm with two rubber straps.  As I extended my arm, it began shaking, but she managed to get the blood with no problem. 

"I do blood draws on one-year-olds" she told me smugly.  Three vials, and minimal pain, later - honestly, the shaking was the worst of it, we were done. 

She double checked my name and I'm glad.  One time the tech put in my name as BL instead of BO.

I was also happy to find out they had dropped their prices on both the lithium level and the chem panel, saving me $50. 

I love those guys.  Completely starving, I went to the Kolache Factory and got a couple of cream cheese and a couple of Diet Dr Peppers.  I gobbled everything, starving. 

I decided to go to the craft store.  I won't name it - you'll see why. 

Anyway, I had a lot of good memories of this craft store and their awesome yarn collections. 

However, it was across two busy streets.  Now, I'll go under 249, no problem.  It makes me a little nervous but I can do it. 

1960, on the other hand, gives me the cold chills.  "You got run over" I tell Ron "And I have PTSD."  I get panic attacks thinking about crossing very busy streets.  I can tell my blood pressure is up right now just writing about it. 

Not to mention, it had the horror of horrors, the underpass.  I also have a deathly fear of heights.  In my special hell, I am stuck on an overpass trying to cross a busy street. 

I had a couple of choices, I thought.  I could butch up and try to do it, but it would be miserable.  Or I could cross 249 and wait on the 44 bus.  The bus goes across 1960.  I could take the bus one stop and get across with no drama or strain. 

I elected to take the bus.  One reason, you see, why I ALWAYS carry my bus pass.  That, and the time Ron was a jerk... but we won't recall that. 

I had to wait about 20 minutes but I figured it was worth it, as I watched all the whizzing cars going over the very high underpass.  [shudder]  Hell.  It would have been hell. 

The bus came, I rode it one stop.  No one cared. 

I got off and walked to the craft store, in my sandals (not the best thinking there but my feet are OK). 

Now, a little about my current project.  Someone mentioned a project, I have one.  I am working on a garter stitch wrap.  It will be about 2 feet wide, 5 feet long, and close with a button.  I will be able to wear it on my shoulders without impeding my arms.  That seems practical for work. 

It's a light/medium/dark blue mix, denimy.  I'm working it up in garter stitch, plain knit stitches.  I am a left-handed or "Continental" knitter. 

I had been working it on a circular, but am having trouble sliding the stitches up the point.  I'm not that tight a knitter!  I tried another circular, same thing. 

So, let's leave it there.  I went into the store. 

LOUSY selection.  They had a fair amount of baby yarns, but a very limited selection of Red Heart, even.  Red Heart is like the Honda of yarns, very popular, always around.  Every craft store always has a couple dozen selections of Red Heart - heck, even Hobby Lobby had tons and they have their own yarn brand!  Hobby Lobby had tons of yarn - this store, which I will not name, did not. 

I was disgusted.  I walked and waited all that time just to go over there and find nothing?

What did they have?  Well, they had some supplies.  I took a look.  They had a fair amount of straight needles, some circulars, and various things like stitch markers and double pointed needles.  Well, at least they had that. 

Straights.  Huh.  No bump in the straights to hang up my stitches.  Couldn't hurt, the needles only cost $4.  Not only that, they had some point protectors to keep my stitches from falling off. 

If you are a knitter you know very well, you never end the work at the end of a row.  Something always comes up right after you start it, or in the middle. 

Surprisingly, the cats have been indifferent to my knitting.  I'm shocked.  They watch it a little bit, I stop, they wander off.  I'm shocked. 

I really thought I'd have a bunch of bitey little maulers.  They also leave my project alone when I'm not working on it. 

I remember one time I came home from work to find yarn strung all over the house.  Gypsy had found my yarn stash and had a grand day.  Bubba used to drag off alpaca yarn and maul it.  Frosty loved to attack yarn as I worked.  I hardly got any work done! 

So, a nice surprise.  It's going to be a funny sight, me working the knitting off the circular, onto the straight.  It's funny, I didn't used to have problems working on a circular but things change. 

Easy enough to try, at least.  I threw a couple of straights into the cart. 

I have also totally forgotten binding off.  I think I will use some scrap yarn to practice that. 

So, not impressed, I paid for my few items and checked out. 

I called Lou, who was across town.  It took him over an hour. 

Now, I could have called another cab, but I haven't had much luck in my zip code.  We are too middle class, I think.  We have enough money, per capita, that everyone has a car.  We don't have enough money that people ride cabs regularly like they would in the Galleria area.  Just my theory. 

So, I waited and read one of my books.  I always carry my Kindle, too. 

Lou finally showed up, feeling terrible.  I was nice to him anyway and gave him a decent tip.  It was Ron's money, anyway (Ron had given me cab fare). 

We got home and I took a nap for a couple hours.  I still had time for that.  I woke up with Torbie in my bed.  That was nice. 

Now Ron wants to watch a cowboy romance movie.  We'll see if it's as good as he hopes.  If nothing else, I can work on my knitting. 

Edit: the straights work a lot better for my knitting, and the cats remain indifferent. 

Yet another headache

Yesterday was pretty uneventful.  I slept in until around 8, God Time, shower. 

I got a pizza with my "rewards".  It cost me $4.60 (I upgraded the pizza).  The deliveryman and I had a good laugh over that, but I still gave him a decent tip. 

I am getting used to my hair.  I'm still not used to it lying on my cheeks, but everyone who can see me, loves it.  I know a couple of blind men besides Ron and they have offered no comment (:P). 

Anyway, I got a short nap yesterday, and Ron wanted to watch yet another romantic comedy.  He is a romantic at heart, plus it is easier to follow for a blind person as they are mostly dialogue.  I can fill in the blanks (he's kissing her, they are holding hands, she turned and walked away, etc.). 

I cried at the end.  I cry at everything except superhero movies.  I cry at commercials, too.  Ron thought it was sweet. 

Part of it, though, I was crying for myself.  My life did not go at all as I'd hoped.  I am married to a verbally abusive, unappreciative, manipulative, alcoholic.  He thinks it is "enough" to be nice to me occasionally, take me out to dinner sometimes, buy the occasional gift, and pay the bills, then turn around and call me the filthiest names imaginable, making the worst personal attacks he can dream up. 

Yes, I have my needs covered.  Yes, I have a job most would love.  I can support myself working part time in a job I usually find interesting.  But I want to be valued.

Half the time I think Ron views our marriage as some kind of transaction: I pay the bills, you take care of me.  That's not what I ever wanted.  I married a man who was living on $500 a month disability check, unemployed.  I was well aware he had grim prospects for employment but none of that mattered to me.  I just wanted to love him. 

He has taken that love, disrespected it, abused it, harangued it, and kept it up all night during drunken blackouts.  Yes, he hasn't had one in a while.  Yes, I am grateful for that. 

I know I have my flaws.  I am frequently fatigued due to medication, often depressed (not my fault!), and I'm a terrible housekeeper.  But I try. 

He seems perfectly content with business as usual.  Vicious attacks if he feels I've wronged or insulted him somehow, a steady diet of alcohol, even though it doesn't agree, and throwing me the occasional bone "You were great at work today". 

I would like to be recognized as a great person, not just a good employee.  But that's generally the only context for a compliment. 

I feel like a brat complaining, but I was reading my old diary - 20 years ago it was the same old Ron.  20 years later - same old Ron.  20 years from now - assuming he hasn't drunk himself to death - same old Ron.  It's profoundly depressing.  In fact, if anything, he was more appreciative 20 years ago. 

I woke up with a migraine around 11:30 PM.  That's a bad one.  Generally the migraine will wake me up towards the morning.  I got up and drank a diet Dr Pepper, and took two generic Excedrin.  I went back to sleep, the pain moderated. 

Excedrin has as much caffeine as a cup of coffee, and I am very sensitive to caffeine.  If I can sleep after that I must be hurting. 

Then I had to get up and go to work.  I did my God time later (before I turned on the computer).  Work was pretty unpleasant pain wise but I did get some good news. 

Someone from the union said they are going to build a bench out front.  Good.  Ron and I will have a place to sit while waiting on our rides.  We currently have to sit on the walker or curb like homeless people, because "Everyone has a car". 

Not everyone! 

At least they are fixing it.  Our boss suggested we get the union involved.   Glad I listened! 

We came home, I took a nap.  I didn't sleep very well because I had taken so much caffeine, but I did get some rest.  My head is finally improving but I don't want to eat any possible triggers, either. 

I do have tomorrow off and I plan to enjoy it. 

When I got up, I decided to try to use my "at home" A1C blood test.  I had a defective cartridge.  I stuck my finger with that sword of a lancet (huge, painful, thing) for nothing.  I plan to do the other test (using my own personal lancet from my glucose meter) in a few days

Ugh.  At any rate, I need to get some blood tests anyway: lithium level (about every year, it's been around 11 months), chemistry panel (are the liver and kidneys working OK?  What is my fasting blood sugar?), and I will add an A1C to it also.  They'll already have a needle in my arm and THEY won't have a defective cartridge (they always take way more blood than they need).  I need to figure out when to do this.  I'm inclined to just do it tomorrow. 

I can't think of a good reason to wait.  Man, that lancet left a huge hole in my finger.  I can just squeeze it tomorrow to get my blood drop for my glucose test. 

About that: 100 and under is "good".  85 or so is ideal. 

Mine has run between 116-130.  NOT good. 

I plan to ask one of my doctors for Metformin.  It is supposed to be good for helping with blood sugar control.   It won't interact with my other drugs, and really, what's another pill? 

I am pretty good at checking my sugars.  I have a nice lancet, with very skinny "pointer".  I test in the side of my finger, about 1/8 of an inch below the fingernail.  I have a meter that does not require a large blood sample, so I can eke out a small drop and test off that.  The test strips are cheap and easily obtained at my Walmart, and I recently changed the battery in the meter. 

I don't want to be one of those people who passes out in public one day with a sugar of 300.  I don't want to be like the diabetics I see on paratransit: blind, dialysis, ulcers, amputations.  No thank you. 

I have enough problems already.