cattyann

Like I said before….I suck at being diabetic. I always have. It seems now I have a new found respect for the disease. After many times of my sugar being well at 385 and over, and ignoring it, I can no longer do so. It seems, I had a moment. You know….when you get it. It was the night before last and my sugar had been high all day. Yes, I take glipizide and I do so 4 times a day. I have metformin, but it upsets my stomach. Anyhow, here I am at 1:30 am, and my husband calls me, to see how I am doing. Now…he works third shift and I am use to his calls at this time. However, I didn’t seem to want to talk, and was pretty much unable to talk. I did tell him to call later and I then got up to find my meter, found it and preceeded to get very, very angry. To the point of crying. I could not seem to find all I need to check my sugar and when I did, it just flashed, “check ketones.” I then did what any sane diabetic does, threw the meter across the room and began to cry.
I was sooo out of it, I could barely walk, think or move. I felt that my arms and legs weighed thousands of pounds. I have since been told I am an idiot to let this go. I am not a big girl, 5′1″ and 140 lbs, and am quite active. I want to give up, and for the record, I hate being a diabetic. Control is not my game, but is going to have to be and I will have to be on top of it.
Knowing there are many, many other people out there going through the same, let’s talk. I am scared and uninformed. If anyone can be of help, let me know, it would be greatly appreciated, as I was told, I could have easily gone into a coma that night.

So, the next day, my manager, Brian comes in. I didn’t really know to explain things to him. (You’ll have to read the first “he was all over me” to understand this. I just casually walked over to him and started singing, “you ate her husband, you ate her husband.” You know, in that sing songy voice, kids use all the time, the irratating one. Anyway, he just looks at me and says, “what are you talking about?” So I tell him. Now, if you didn’t read the first “he was all over me”, shame on you and you won’t know what’s going on here.
It is at this point, he screams, “uhhhhh” and starts wiping off his tongue with his hands, and who knows where those have been. Just kidding. He then runs to the mens room, which is fine by me, because it is at this point, I am laughing so hard, I can’t hardly see straight. He goes to the mens room and I, to the ladies (my mascare had began to run). I somehow compose myself and go and knock on the mens room door. I ask, “are you alright?” To which I hear a reply of, “when I get out of here, I am going to kill you.” So, needless to say, this may take a shrink for him to get over. I’ll be sure to let you know.

Remember I told you yesterday that I thought I had seen it all. Wait….it gets better. I use to write about these stupid things that happened at work, like throwing away teeth and the woman in the bathroom stall on thoughts.com and people couldn’t believe these things actually happen. But they do. Anyway, the day before yesterday, a woman left her purse at the restaurant. When this happens we take it to the manager and it is put in the safe. It was late and the woman didn’t show up, so our manager told me to look inside of it and see if there was a phone number. It wasn’t a large purse, something small and a was a very bright gold color. Of course, there was no check book or anything just zipper compartments. I felt uncomfortable even having to look, but wanted to return it, as being a woman, I’d want my purse back.
Anyway….the first compartment had a picture of chippendales, which was embarassing enough, but the next compartment just made me mad. As I reached into it, there were cigarette ashes all in it, I pull out my fingers and said, “uhhhh.” My manager starts laughing at me and that irrates me even more, as I was very tired. I then turn to him and flick the ashes from my hand at him. Of course, I had flicked them in his face and he is spitting and carrying on. I proceed to zip it back up and said, “here I am done, she can just come get it, that’s just disgusting.”
So today, I was late for work, I wrote my time down wrong and was thirty minutes late. Still, that didn’t deter my good mood, but something else did. The woman comes in, looks at me and says, thank you. I didn’t recognize her at first, then I blinked and said, “oh, your purse, it’s in the safe, we couldn’t find a number for you.” She just shook her head and said, that’s ok, just as long as I get it back. At this moment, I am standing there with a glass of ice, and she says, “my husbands ashes are in there.” The glass of ice is now on the floor and I was told I turned a horrid ashen color (excuse the pun). I then say, “I’ll go get him.” As she leaves, all I can think of, is flicking him all over my manger’s face, I then break out in laughter. To the point, I get the hiccups. So the story will continue, as I have yet to tell my manger, who will come in tomorrow. Stay tuned. This should be good.

So it was just another day at the office, or restaurant I should say. I wish I could tell you it was just like all other days, but it wasn’t. I begin by saying, things happen, chalk it up to a full moon, moody people, bad day….I don’t know. What I do know is, one minute I am waiting on tables and the next, I hear two men yelling at each other and it is beginning to get ugly.
Besides serving, I am in charge of the serving staff, so it is my job to keep them from getting hurt. Our managers had decided to escort both men to the front of the restaurant and try to get them to calm down. Seems the “little guy”(this is what we will call him) told the “very big dude” (this will be his name)to make his children behave. You have to understand…these children were wreaking havoc among the restaurant and the parent was forewarned that they were causing problems. To no avail, did the parent “little guy” do anything to correct his children. They were swearing and running around, just generally causing grief. The “big dude” decided HE would say something to the man. This is where it all went downhill. After escorting them outside, a fight ensued. Whereby, myself, and two managers were trying to regain control of the situation and calm it down. Talk wasn’t working and fists were fixin’ to fly between the two. It is then, we decide there was enough yelling and threatening between the two and we called the police.
It really seems like a long time when your needing help. Pay attention, “little dude” had a really big complex for his size, and his problem? He didn’t know when to shut his mouth, he also didn’t know who to pick a fight with. This other guy was huge and he had just about enough of this man’s mouth. It is at this moment, I realize one of my servers had come outside also, which I really didn’t mind because it was getting to be pretty interesting. It is amazing how much a person can take, verbally. “Big dude” had enough and decided to take a swing at this little guy.
It is just then “little guy” realizes he has probably said too much and runs. It is comical because he is small enough to hide behind our steak sign, which is just cardboard and sticking in the ground, it stands about four feet high. Of course, myself, the manager and other server begin to laugh, as this man (little guy) loses his footing and falls in the snow. Just then “big dude” heads straight for him, he is now going to put an end to this fight.” We never saw it coming.
Out of nowhere, I hear some women scream. Not just any scream, screams like you hear in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie, and I am wishing they would shut the hell up.
But the horrid sounds are coming from myself and two others. “Little guy” has maced all of us. Both myself and the other server are running around like idiots and slamming into each other, the trash can and newspaper box. My face, I had decided, was on fire. So…I get the bright idea to fall down and slam my face into the snow, yes, it felt good. It was every man or woman for themselves. As I am on the ground, I am trying to open my eyes. It is at this moment, I catch a glimpse of people staring at us through the windows. Yes we were directly in front of twenty windows, all the way down the front of the restaurant and we were on display. People were video taping us. How embrassing this was. One of our managers was inside and had not seen a thing and runs outside. Of course, he was no help at all because he was laughing so hard he couldn’t lend us a hand to get inside the building, remember, we could barely see. When all was said and done, both guys were gone, nowhere to be seen. Evidently someone told them the police were on the way, and I could only hope they both had warrants. I have regained my eyesight and feeling in my face. As for my dignity, well, let’s just say…..I am still looking for that!

Okay, I’ll admit it. I am a horrible diabetic. Being a type 2 is not nearly as bad as type 1. I do not have to take insulin, only when I get stressed or very sick, has that ever happened. Hospitalization was required. Pity is not something I want when it comes to this disease, just knowledge.
I got it when I was pregnant with my third son, gestational diabetes is what is was called and I was told I would get rid of it after his birth. I did. Two years later, I developed type 2 and was having problems and had to go on medication. Still taking the meds has helped, but to be truthful, I don’t think I really understand the complications of not taking care of myself. I love to cook, not only for myself, but others. Others, do not have the disease, so I cook for them. The choices I make are not so good, I eat right along with them, even desserts. Of course, still taking my medications. I should be throwing them out the window for all the good I am doing. I really haven’t learned how to cook diabetic style, nor have I cared to learn. I am 5″1″ and 135-140 lbs. My sugar pretty much stays up over 225 most of the time, even fasting. I write this because, I do have complications beginning. Tingling fingers, no feeling in my feet, eyesight not so good. Perhaps, if you are a diabetic also, take stock, some of these things can be corrected, some cannot. I am the only diabetic in the family, so I have no one who could be a support person for me. They can’t make me try harder, I have to do that for myself.
It’s a new year and yes, I have insurance. I will try harder and even possibly call my local hospital to find out about classes for diet and excerise. Yes, I suck at being a diabetic and will slowly try to turn it around before I have things falling off of me or I go blind. If you have any great recipes or ideas. Email me. I would love any help someone has.

So…..if you knew the end was near and could do anything? What would it be? If you haven’t seen the movie, “The bucket list”, you should. It gets you to thinking, about life in general. You know, regrets of what you didn’t get done, things you want, but couldn’t have. Or just things you want to accomplish. If you could pick just three, what would they be?
Mine would be first, go to chef school. I love to cook and have always wished to be a chef. Second, write a book. The closest I ever came to that would be on Thoughts.com. Still, it isn’t a book, although I had quite a bit go on in my life. Like the time I woke up in bed with grandma, only to find her dead. Yeah, those were the days. Hmmm, third would be to take a vacation and not have to worry about money. Nothing fancy, maybe to the New England area. I’ve always thought it would be beautiful in the fall.
What about you? Do you have a bucket list? If you could only pick three, what would they be? Who knows, it’s a brand new year, anything is possible?

I am not the brightest woman in the world, but I do know a few things. Although, my husband has questioned me on numerous occasions, and hardly ever listens to me. There are times though, I do know my stuff.
One evening while returning home, we encountered a possum on the side of the road, almost in front of our house. We lived in the country and you see these types of things all the time. I am from Kansas City, big city girl, but I do know a thing or two about possums. My husband being the soft hearted man that he is, stops the car and gets out to further inspect the poor animal. Upon returning to the car, he advised me, it seemed to be hurt and would have to be put out of it’s misery. At this point, I start laughing so hard I thought I’d puke. This was my first mistake, the first of many, I might add.
My husband stared straight at me and with clenched teeth, asked what was sooo funny. I said, ” let’s go look at it again,” so we do. Without laughing again, I gently took his hand and said, “aww honey, don’t you know?” This is what they do. He hatefully said, “what is it they do?” I then advised, “play dead, they do that so you will leave them alone.” It is at this moment, the conversation went sour. He then advised me I didn’t know what I was talking about and he was going to put it out of it’s misery.
Second mistake. I began to laugh again, to the point that I had tears streaming down my face. He then gets into the car and pulls into the driveway, slams the car door and informs me he is getting the gun. As he storms up to the house, I follow. Before I can reach the front porch, he has returned with a 357 pistol. While trying to reason with him, he is heading towards this poor animal. As I give it one last shot, I told my husband we should just go inside and give it a few minutes, really, it will scamper away and all will be well. I also advised there was no blood anywhere and told him the dogs must have scared it, but it is what they do, it’s their defense mode. Dear old hubby wasn’t paying a bit of attention to me and proceeds to walk towards the animal, head hanging down (he really does have a caring heart for animals) as it grieves him to see anything in pain. He just looks at me and says,”it is in pain and you don’t care.” I try to give him a serious look, then bust out laughing, “it will be when you get through with it.” That seemed to be his breaking point. He then told me to go inside, he didn’t need my sarcasm. I told him, “please, just come inside and wait 10 minutes, I promise, when you come outside, it will be gone.” I took his hand and said, “if he’s not gone in 10 minutes, you can come outside and shoot it, okay?” He nods his head and starts for the house. I lean over the possum and said, “you better run like hell if you want to live.” I look towards my husband and he is looking back and tells me, “very funny”. We go inside and wait, we then go back outside and, what do you know, it’s gone.”here possum, possum, here boy,” I call. Of course, I start laughing at my husband all over again, this time while lying on the ground. The look of him with that big ole 357 and the thought of the hole it would have made. He didn’t think it was funny at all, he was really mad and
started to march right back to the house. Still laughing, I said, “I told you, city boy. As I looked up to see him gesture to me and it wasn’t one of love. “Hey, I called, when you wave at me use all your fingers.”

There are times I would like to turn back the hands of time. Then, maybe not. The movies I watch, the people I pass, all reminders of what I don’t have. A mother. The lack of having a mother makes me sad and I know I am not alone. My childhood was one that I don’t care to repeat. My mother was a alcoholic who beat me at times and kept me out of school for almost two years, those are times I don’t care to live over. Child abuse comes in many forms, you live through it or you don’t.
Seeing movies with children and their mothers, laughing, crying, sharing, good times and bad, brings tears to my eyes. I never had good times with my mother, and I wonder what I missed. When I was a child, my mother always told me she hated me and didn’t want me. Being a change of life baby was something she could live without. Abuse comes in many forms, mine was having an alcoholic mother who hated me and kept me at home with her while she drank. My father worked two jobs and didn’t find out for a very long time of the problems she had. I was sworn to keep my mouth shut, and I did. I knew what would happen if I told anyone about what was going on. She would drink in the morning and then pass out. Me? I was told to stay in the house and be quiet, and I did just that. One day, I wondered down the street, only to be abused by a stranger. When I see daughters and mothers together, it grieves my soul. I wanted that to be me and my mother, but it is too late now. Children don’t realize what they have until it is too late. She never held me, or told me she loved me. We never shared a joke or held hands. She broke most of my fingers, at one time or another, during her drunken stupors, but I lived through it.
I’ve always wondered, what it is like to have your mother call and say, I love you and miss you. Being a mother makes me a better person, I give what I never had. It is a privilege to be a mother, I cherish it. Still, I find it difficult to see mothers and daughters bonding. I feel incomplete. My children, all boys, no daughters, but I wouldn’t change that for all the money in the world.
Writing about my childhood has helped. There are places like thoughts.com and today.com that make you feel better by getting it all out. Childhood for me was pretty nasty and writing about it all has helped. Still, I wonder what I’ve missed and envy those who still have their mothers. Good relationships or even bad, I get jealous. If you have a mother, hug her and remember she won’t be there forever.

As we continue to try to resolve the issue with a certain pet hospital, I wondered, am I the only one who feels this way? Please, anyone, write and tell me your experience with emgerency pet hospitals! I want to believe they are not all like what I have experienced.
Even as humans, we are treated we some shred of respect, even the knowledge from care providers, it is just this, an emergency. Emergency is something deemed, urgent, unexpected, something not foreseen. This is why, hospitals work with us. It is a bill we didn’t expect to incur. They don’t say, “if you can’t pay, we won’t render the service, do or die.”
We were told for our pet, “I don’t know what to tell you, we will put her down for the $30.00 you have on you.” My choice wasn’t to have her worked on, which even after $700.00, they couldn’t say what was wrong. Seriously, all I got was a shrug and nothing. A blood test, x-ray and oxygen. Oh….and a pepcid, antibotic and gas pill. Please someone help me here. Let me know, I am not the only person who has been taken advantage of because I brought in a pet that couldn’t tell them what was wrong and where it hurt. I got nothing. If you had a bad experience, please let me know. I am sinking here.

Today was one of those days. I had to wonder if I hadn’t been better off if she would have just not had me. She didn’t want me, my mother. I saw three women having lunch this afternoon talking, laughing, having fun and I got angry. Why? I guess, I was jealous. Wondering what I have missed, jealous, because I wanted to be the one sitting there with my mother having fun, but I wasn’t and it was never going to be that way for me. My mother didn’t want me when she found out she was pregnant with me and that is when it all began.
Today brought back painful memories of when she decided that it would be better if she kept me at home with her, while she drank.
Yes, she would wave the school bus away, take me by the hand and lead me across the street, to the 7-11 to get her daily six pack. She told me it would be fun, she and I staying home and being together. But….it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all. The days began with her drinking and me sitting all by myself wondering what I would do.
Those women made me remember those times. I remember the first time my mother waved that bus good-bye, then she went upstairs after drinking all morning. It was the beginning of a new kind of life for me, one I wouldn’t soon forget.