debutaunt.com

Sorry

I haven't been updating much.

But here is the latest. I'm a sad sack of shit right about now.

From another entry I wrote somewhere in fucking left of Bosnia.

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I just cried in my office for the first time in over a year.

I have a love/hate relationship with my new doctor. I know he's trying to help, but I know that I just need a fucking break from my life in order to fix all the fuckups in my world, my health right now.

Well I'm 37, but my body is 21304810348 years old. And I'm not talking dog years.

This stress is killing me. Literally. For the first time in my life my health situation is very critical. I know what to do, but I can't figure out how to do it.

The one thing I need is a vacation, and I have over 3 months before I can take a paid day off. (crosses fingers I don't croak before then).

I have never had high blood pressure before. I do now. My blood sugar was higher than when I first found out I had diabetes. (we are talking in the 400 range). My triglycerides are nearing 800, and my A1c test was 8.6 (It's an average of what your blood sugar levels have been for a three month period - it should be near the 5 range - um, trust me. 8.6. That's really bad).

So far no kidney damage, but I have noticed my eyes are wacked out a bit. My body is taking it's revenge on me for stressing it so much. I'm a "stroke/heart attack waiting to happen" my doctor told me.

Oh yeah. I'm a diabetic. All of this is a daily thing for me, but it's never been to this extent before.

What it boils down to is that I need to figure out how to get back to the gym and reduce my stress level. Which is not happening anytime soon.

It's nearly 6pm and I'm still at work. My sister got my kiddo for me, but I just finished up, yetfuckingagain, a last minute document for my boss. He's a good guy, but he has the lastminute-itis like nobody's business.

This has happened to me at least 6 times in a month. I don't have squat to do for 3-4 days, then I rush and stress to get something out. There's no need for it. Especially since they hired a second editor. Bad thing is that they don't give her any work, and when they have work, it's always on my shift - the late shift. The fuck you Debby, we don't care if you have to find alternate daycare pickup, stress your ass out shift.

I had my checkup with my endocrinologist this morning and he wanted to freaking hospitalize me. I told him that wasn't an option since I didn't have anyone to watch my daughter for me. (Cheffy is still at his Mom's ranch fixing hurricane damage & I'd never ask him to do that anyway). Not to mention, I have heard of way too many cases where someone goes in to the hospital for something that isn't critical, but dies anyway due to some nasty hospital-inflicted infection.

I had mentioned my appointment to my boss (he's borderline diabetic, so he is almost the same boat as me.

On his way out, after he ensured his stuff would be handled, he said, "Debby you really need to take care of yourself." I couldn't get the "yeah, maybe if you didn't stress me out with your last minute-ness, I'd not have some of the issues I have right now."

I literally feel like I'm about to implode. Yay for my new private office, because I went in there, closed the door, finished assembling this big bastard document, and bawled silently to some Jimmie Vaughn.

And we just moved downtown, so I'm still trying to figure out UPS deadlines, where everything is, which copy machine can handle 600 pages x 10 copies without crapping out. And how to get around the place (big time security in this building).

Oh yeah. They have rats here too. Nice.

Then there's the little teeny weeny tiny matter of being about $550 short on my rent. Which has never happened to me in over 15 years of renting apartments. All this is due to the bank fees/Austin trip. I can't figure out what to do. I may be a week late in paying. I am just going to pray or meditate tonight to figure out how to deal with this.

I don't have anything worth selling. I checked. (my rings would only bring me about $50 because they don't pay for the diamonds - only the gold). I can't sell blood because my blood sugar levels are too fucked up for them to take it. I'd sell my kid, but I'd miss her too much. And I can't really have an overnight yard sale, because, well, I don't have a yard.

I miss my child. I miss my Chef (shut up!). I miss my life with money. I miss my best friend, M.

And I'm now on the sixth level of headache hell. Seriously. That's what hell is going to be. (I'm sure I'm going to find out some day). Headaches 24/7.

All in all, this stupid entry isn't going to help a damn thing. I'm going to take some of my 95810485125 prescriptions they gave me and go home and hide.

Get the devil off my ass already, you fucker.

I don't feel like I have one goddamn friend in the world. Seriously.

Posted by debutaunt at September 30, 2004 06:36 PM | TrackBack