On June 5, the right side of my face went numb and stopped moving. Not sure if I was having a stroke, I went to the emergency room. It turns out to be a Bell's Palsy (link on WebMD opens in new window/tab), apparently a result of a severe sinus infection and no small amount of stress over the past few months.
After years of abusing my body by not taking care of it, exercising, and eating decently, it was also discovered that I have high blood pressure and diabetes (the non-insulin injecting kind). The good news is that my doctor feels that losing 25 pounds or so should fix things so that I don't have to take medication any longer. The nurse gave me a glucose testing kit (which only has 10 strips and 10 lancets, so they went pretty quickly when you're testing multiple times a day -- I'm going to once a day testing now).
When I filled my prescription to get new lancets and testing strips, the pharmacy was out of the testing strips the insurance company would cover. And buying the larger size (100-count as opposed to 50-count) would cost me $109. Well, the insurance company has their rules about stuff, so I didn't think much about it until I got home.
Interlude
The insurance company won't let me renew my diabetes medication until the 28th because it would be "too soon" otherwise. Whatever.
End Interlude
When unpackaging what I could get tonight, I discovered this: I couldn't get 100 test strips covered, only 50, but for lancets (mind you, one use only), I got a box of 100. That just doesn't make sense to me. I know it's all a money game, but I think it's almost as ridiculous as being treated like a criminal just to buy sinus medication and not being able to buy it in bulk if it's on sale or just to have.
Grrr
(P.S.: I know I said a couple of things, but I've forgotten the second thing.)
Monday, June 23, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Super, man
Those of you who know me know of my love of Superman. I mean, my cat's name is Clark Kent. I came across this video tonight on godtube.com (the link should take you to a new window or tab if you know how to do that).
Superman
Superman
Monday, June 16, 2008
Gone
It's been a while since I last posted.
My father passed away at 4:30 a.m. on May 6, 2008. I went home May 2 (after watching Iron Man) not so much to say goodbye as to let him know I was there and be a support for my mother. And to be there with him. I often downplay my role in anything, like this wasn't about me. But then I realized, this was about all three of us: my mom, my dad, and me. We're a family, and this happened to all us, not just him or her or them.
And I haven't known completely how to grieve; I've mostly been just numb. For my father's sake, we're glad he's not suffering any longer. (Those last few days, when the medical staff were administering morphine for pain management, we discovered the morphine was 40% effective at best, as his veins were collapsing or infection was blocking the central line.) We had hoped, of course, that he would recover from the brain cancer, but we also knew it was an uphill battle. And we're confident he's in heaven now, glorifying Jesus.
On Memorial Day, I hadn't gone to sleep until 5:30 a.m. from the night before, and I had a dream that my cat (Clark) was killed in an explosion. It was framed as an angry woman dressed all in red planting explosives in a house as revenge against the home owner. Clark ran away from the house but returned the next morning. I had to leave Clark at the house to go take care of some business, and then the house exploded (I was a couple of miles away but heard the explosion). Someone told me the house exploded; I asked about the homeowner and was told he wasn't even around. Then I asked about Clark and was told he didn't make it.
In my dream, I began weeping and wailing for what seemed like hours. Loudly. Very loudly. I woke up weeping and wailing, and I immediately looked for Clark (he was at the foot of the bed, breathing). Then, I realized the dream wasn't about Clark at all but about my father (just in case you didn't pick up on that bit). And I wept for another 30 minutes or so until I just ran out of tears. God assured me that I would have plenty more times to cry for him, and that it's all good. And I have cried quite a few times since then.
My mom and I miss him terribly.
My father passed away at 4:30 a.m. on May 6, 2008. I went home May 2 (after watching Iron Man) not so much to say goodbye as to let him know I was there and be a support for my mother. And to be there with him. I often downplay my role in anything, like this wasn't about me. But then I realized, this was about all three of us: my mom, my dad, and me. We're a family, and this happened to all us, not just him or her or them.
And I haven't known completely how to grieve; I've mostly been just numb. For my father's sake, we're glad he's not suffering any longer. (Those last few days, when the medical staff were administering morphine for pain management, we discovered the morphine was 40% effective at best, as his veins were collapsing or infection was blocking the central line.) We had hoped, of course, that he would recover from the brain cancer, but we also knew it was an uphill battle. And we're confident he's in heaven now, glorifying Jesus.
On Memorial Day, I hadn't gone to sleep until 5:30 a.m. from the night before, and I had a dream that my cat (Clark) was killed in an explosion. It was framed as an angry woman dressed all in red planting explosives in a house as revenge against the home owner. Clark ran away from the house but returned the next morning. I had to leave Clark at the house to go take care of some business, and then the house exploded (I was a couple of miles away but heard the explosion). Someone told me the house exploded; I asked about the homeowner and was told he wasn't even around. Then I asked about Clark and was told he didn't make it.
In my dream, I began weeping and wailing for what seemed like hours. Loudly. Very loudly. I woke up weeping and wailing, and I immediately looked for Clark (he was at the foot of the bed, breathing). Then, I realized the dream wasn't about Clark at all but about my father (just in case you didn't pick up on that bit). And I wept for another 30 minutes or so until I just ran out of tears. God assured me that I would have plenty more times to cry for him, and that it's all good. And I have cried quite a few times since then.
My mom and I miss him terribly.
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