I’ve been trying to decide how to say this since last Friday. I don’t know that I have found the right words, but I’m going to give it a try.
When I am involved in a case, I forget about sleeping and eating and exercising. I focus on the case at work and obsess about it at night. Cases in which my client faces a significant number of years in prison keep me from going to sleep, I am a pretty private person so having cameras shoved in my face is disconcerting. I know it’s just a part of the job, but I still don’t like it. You should all know that those who are the focus of a news story do not receive payment. The time that is demanded is free time — no it’s not free — it is time lost. In any case, the operative word is “stress”.
I have a doctor that is big on annual check-ups — taking blood, etc. When I went in for my annual check-up, I had gained 15 pounds from the previous October, my blood sugars were greatly elevated. I went into the exam room and the nice nurse took my blood pressure, temp, etc. The blood pressure was normal. Then the doctor came in, looked at the lab results and said, “You have diabetes.” All I could do is stare at him. Then he said, “Let me take your blood pressure.” I said, “Raylene already did.” He took it anyway and it had spiked 20 points. He said, “This is not good.” For Pete’s sake, what did he think my blood pressure was going to do?
He prescribed some meds and I wandered over to Sams Club Pharmacy. There the pharmacist insisted on telling me how and when to take the meds — probably a good thing because I knew nothing. She told me I needed to test. I’m sure I looked blankly at her. “You need to get a glucometer and test daily. I bought the glucometer and test strips (which are very expensive). She said, “Your doctor should send over a prescription and the supplies should be completely covered by your health plan. That’s a good thing!
I called the doctor’s office after I left the pharmacy. It turns out the medical group provides the glucometer and a starter kit, a nurse case manager shows you how to test, gives you books and hand-outs, gives you her card with a direct number. I have no idea why no one told me that before I toddled off to Sams.
So, I am now engaged in daily self-mutilation. I am by-passing the cookie and ice cream aisles at the store. The dogs and I are going for a walk in the evenings — because of strays out here in the boonies, we just walk the perimeter of the back-forty. I haven’t yet figured out how to reduce the stress. Maybe I could be a WalMart greeter. In any case, when you see me again, I will be a svelter version of myself.
I’ve learned the rules and hope it is not too late to turn back the time.