Forty three weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 246
- Blood Sugar: 94
Somehow I lost three pounds in the last week even though I’ve been mostly grading and my activity level could best be described as, “Someone put a mirror up to his mouth.” I’ve been…okay… about my diet. Fuck it though, I’ll take it. So I’m now 11 pounds away from goal number two. Insane. Also, blood sugar’s holding steady, blah blah blah, I think I’m gonna stop writing about it unless there’s good reason to mention something.
I’ve got an email in to Kaiser, who keep sending me emails telling me to watch a video about the high cholesterol I’ve been diagnosed with. Except I’ve never been diagnosed with it. I was on cholesterol meds because my PCP insisted on it because I was a diabetic and apparently that meant my cholesterol would someday shoot through the roof. I’m now wondering if having diabetes can sometimes lead to high cholesterol or if diabetics tend to respond to their disease by saying, “Oh I can’t have bread anymore? Cool, I’ll EAT ALL THE BACON.” And if it’s the second one, and my doctor just decided to put me on cholesterol meds because, statistically, I was hellbound for bacon, then…I don’t know…fuck that guy? Maybe? I’m honestly not sure, but I want to do more investigation.
(Also, if I was a doctor, I’d probably be seriously tempted to put everyone in a coma so they’d stop consuming Red Bull and Flamin’ Hot Cheetos (WHY?!?!?)).
Anyway, I’ve got an email in to Kaiser telling them to knock it the fuck off. I’m too fucking neurotic for emails telling me about health problems I actually do have, let alone the ones I fucking don’t.
I have four weeks left in the spring term for two of my schools, and my students at the third school are turning in their final essays tonight. Then I’ll be down to 113 students. I’m so ready to take this academic year out back and put it down.
I’m happy, despite the whining in the previous paragraph. One of the reasons I’m happy, of course, is all the fucking therapy I’ve had. If the lockdown is getting to you, as it absolutely is to me, reach out to someone and get some help. My next therapy session is literally in a little over ten minutes. Speaking of which, I should put on some pants.
Here, have a graphic: