Delayed Medical Attention

My day is slipping away from me. It's nearly lunch time and I still haven't posted but once, over on SOF-The People. It's an episode from Tavaar's background. In honor of 100 posts. Sometimes I think I love Tavaar more than Khirsha. She certainly comes closer to representing my own life.

But I got up late - on purpose. Woke at midnight, two, and three, but forced myself to stay in bed and return to sleep. Got up at six-thirty. This delayed my daily blog visits, and then Spouse and Son got up which interrupted me. Spouse has been around most of the morning, and that means more interruptions. Never should have put the computer in the family room and let Son overrun the study with his toys. Now the room is being used for storing boxes of things we want to keep. The Archives are in there. I can see them through the glass doors. The study has really cool doors. Two of them. Each has a huge cutout filled with glass. (Well, acrylic.) Gonna miss that.

So I've finished my blog rounds late. Another of my blogging friends has gone silent. This time with a clear message that personal issues have put an end to all blogging. Sounds like a permanent condition, which is too bad. This was a new friend.

Anyway, this post. Been dragging my feet at getting to the point.

Got a doctor appointment set up for this Friday. Going to get tested for diabetes. I know I have it. Well, I guess I can't say I know, but the only reason to believe I don't is because no doctor has said I do. I expect that will change after he/she reviews the results of whatever tests they make on me Friday.

The last time I was tested for diabetes was six years ago. Came out negative, but I didn't think I had it then either. Everyone else did. You see, I've let myself get fat. Quite fat, actually. People would take one look at me and think: diabetes, sleep apnea, slob. One out of three wasn't bad, I guess. Now they've got two. It's still a no go on sleep apnea, but try to tell my heart doctor that. He gets VERY upset with me because I won't have myself retested for it. About ten years ago I was tested for it. I was borderline, so they insisted I wear this horrible contraption while I slept.

Now I am a bit claustrophobic, and wearing this head harness was more than a little disconcerting. I don't sleep well anyway - never have (just ask my parents) - but wearing this contraption I wouldn't sleep until I was too exhausted to stay away. So I said "To h*ll with this!" and sent it back. My heart doctor says I didn't give it enough time. I gave it 60 days! The final straw was waking up in the middle of the night and finding myself sitting up in bed clawing at the d*mn thing.

On top of that, it's not exactly easy to be romantic while wearing something like that. One tends to look like some sci-fi alien creature and sound like Darth Vader. Nobody wants to have sex with Darth Vader. Well, probably there are some who do. Unfortunately, Spouse wasn't one of them. (Spouse is going to be so p*ssed that I talked about sex on my blog.)

Since my last diabetes test I have lost more and more feeling in my feet. It's too the point I can hardly feel a thing in places. Ugly purple blotches and stuff, too. And last Thursday night, sleeping in a hotel bed in Duluth, my hands went numb. You know, like they do sometimes during the night? Only they didn't come back right off. It took a full day to get the feeling back in the fingers of my left hand, and two days for my right. This happened once before, but only with one hand. It took three days that time.

Been meaning to set up an appointment and get tested, but I always put it off. I mean, what's the point? I can't afford the test strips, much less the medications. I know people who have diabetes. It's expensive. Why is it the only time I get something expensive, it's cr*p? Like Ron Weasley (Harry Potter Series), everything I own seems to be rubbish. Including my body. Oh, well.

So, I'm going to get tested. The tests will say, Bevie has diabetes. The doctor will write out a prescription. I won't have the money to fill it. The doctor will yell at me and tell me I'm going to die. (Adding his/her voice to my heart doctor's.) I'll get the, "You'll have your arms and legs amputated," speech. "Really?" I'll say. "And who's going to pay for that?" Then, like my heart doctor said last fall, "You'll die." As if that somehow supercedes all other considerations. My response now will be the same it was then. "I know. But I don't have the money."

It isn't so much the finding out that I've got this. It used to be, but I'm past that. The evidence is so conclusive now I can't pretend. It's finding out and knowing that nothing changes, except that now I will know for certain instead of just believing. The knowledge will gain me neither money nor insurance. Especially now. Our beloved governor has spent his entire time in office making it harder and harder for poor people to get insurance, and he's making it even harder this year. At the same time, he wants the state legislature to pass a law making it a crime to NOT have insurance. Beware, people. This man is planning on running for president in 2012. He's an idiot. He's also a Yes Man to the people who pulled GW's strings.

You know what I worry about most? It isn't dying, although I'm not keen on doing that right now. It isn't even being sick, or alone, or miserable because of this. After all, it isn't like I got blindsided for no reason. I did it to myself. It's called cause and effect, sowing and reaping. Paying the consequences for previous actions, decisions, and general behavior.

No. What I fear most is that some jack*ss is going to force me into a hospital, have all kinds of work done, and then leave me with a f*cking medical bill I will NEVER get paid off. And they'll be so happy with themselves because they did this big favor to me. And I will struggle to not hate them for the rest of my life, making me the creep because I should be so grateful for the eternal poverty they put me in. That's my fear.

Well, it seems pointless, but I'm scheduled to go. Friday morning. Something else not to look forward to.

Sorry for walking the riverbottom. Call me a carp, I guess. But remember, starving people consider carp a delicassy. (I think I spelled that wrong, but I'm too lazy to look it up.)

Some people get very angry with me for talking like this. They yell at me, or get up and walk away. Usually, the walking away follows the exchange where they yell at me and tell me to keep on trying. I asked try what? And when they don't have an answer they get mad at me because I don't either. I've tried a lot of things, people. I really have. Nobody believes that because we've been taught (and believe) that if you try, you will win. That's a lie! And it's the worst lie ever. It makes the innocent guilty.

I hope no one bails on me because I wrote a downer post. You don't need to be sorry, or anything like that either. Like I said, I did this. No one else. I'm just venting late because I had a cr*p of a weekend. I hate losing weekends. Even without a job I like weekends. Well, I like Saturdays. For me, the weekend begins about five o'clock on Friday evening and continues until about dawn Sunday morning. I hate Sundays. It's the last day before going back to work/school, and even though those are no longer considerations, the feeling is kind of etched into my soul.

So do not worry. I be back to my usual self tomorrow. Besides, I have about a dozen SuperVillain characters to create today. I'm hoping to post about the Legion of Super On-Line Heroes tomorrow on The Great Sea. I do hope you find the idea interesting and will join. If enough do, then we're talking only one short story every two months or so.

I hope it's fun. You have a great day!

Bevie