Jan. 12th, 2005

fox: a big hug. (hug)
My father is diabetic.

His father was also diabetic, and had to inject himself with insulin for as long as I knew him (and disposed of the sharps, incidentally, in an empty soda can he kept in the refrigerator for that purpose -- FREAKY), and compared to my grandfather, my father is hardly diabetic at all.  But still, he's been monitoring his blood sugar for years, and over the years it's had more and more of a mind of its own.  For a while now, he and his doctor(s?) have been messing around with his medication in an attempt to get it to where the sugar level will be more or less even throughout the day -- at the levels of medication he was taking, a few months ago his sugar would plummet sort of late mid-afternoon, and be very low in the morning, which was no good.  So they've adjusted this and tweaked that, and mainly it's been under control.

The first day I was back, my parents had to go to a dealership a couple of hours away to pick up my father's car, which had broken down on their way to visit my grandparents a week or so before -- it's not important, but they arrived home after a long drive and my father immediately took his sugar reading and it was dangerously low and he had some candy and was then able to think about what to do next (high on the list was "call the doctor and see if something can be done about this", because this was the plummeting thing I mentioned earlier, and it'd happened enough that it couldn't be considered a fluke).  But since then, the whole time I've been home, it's been pretty much okay.  Haven't heard any chatter about it, anyway.

But about half an hour ago, just as I was about to leave the living room and head up to bed, my dad comes down from his room looking not so good.  Which, okay, nobody looks so good immediately upon waking up.  But what are you doing up, I said, and he said he was awake and felt like he should measure his sugar.  And it was Too Low, and I brought him a bit of chocolate to eat while I made him some popcorn, and I watched his jaw tremble as he chewed it.

I'm not happy.  He says it's no big deal, and it doesn't happen often but he just readjusted his medication again, and I believe him, because he's seen enough with various family members that one thing he's not is stupid about his health.  So it's not that I think he won't take care of himself, or won't keep my mother informed, or whatever.  But, dudes.  Ack.  Ack.
fox: arctic fox:  time to hibernate (hibernate)
thank you for your good thoughts.  i asked my dad this morning how he was feeling, and he said "i'm fine", in a tone that was partly reassuring and partly resigned to spending the rest of his life as the subject of filial concern.

which is all to the good, because right before i woke up, i was having a very upsetting dream no doubt brought on by the really heavy rain we're having just now along with recent world events.  in the dream, there had been heavy rain for a while, and then it had let up a bit, and my parents had both left the house for -- whatever reason, it wasn't important to the story, and then the rains picked up again and they didn't come home and didn't come home and my brother (who was home -- and this wasn't in our house, but some sort of loft apartment downtown; look, the location doesn't matter, really) worried that they'd been swept away but weren't sure it was safe to go out and look for them.  look where?  who knows, but we had a neighbor who was going out in an SUV to look for someone else, and so we were thinking about going as well.

i mean, really alarming!  the fact that when, in the dream, i broke down in tears from the stress and the fear, my mother was there to assure me that she was scared, too, didn't really register with me in dream-time; i didn't remember that feature of the dream until after i woke up and heard my mother on the phone from another part of the house.

file the whole night and morning under "gah".
fox: LOLcat makes you disappear (disappear (by Lanning))
anyone up for boycotting waterstone's?

i'm still hacked off at border's for the time they told me i couldn't sit sideways (i.e. comfortably) in their armchair and then decided i was taking a nap in their store when i'd closed my eyes for thirty seconds (like you do, sometimes, when you've read yourself into a headache in the land of fluorescent lights) and scolded me for it -- but blackwell's, blackwell's, blackwell's, eh?

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fox: my left eye.  "ceci n'est pas une fox." (Default)
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