Monday, September 28, 2015

I want my little plastic cup back.

It’s a pleasant, mostly cloudy Monday morning here at Howdygram headquarters. At 8:05 a.m. I’ve already been awake for nearly three hours due to a hypoglycemic (low blood sugar) episode that woke me from a sound sleep with a variety of irritating warning signs. These include not being able to breathe, double vision, shaky hands, dizziness and a severe craving for sugar. Just another sparkling day in Diabetesland, where I lead a jam-packed life filled with insulin, needles, chronic kidney disease and neuropathy pain.

And now I’d like to take a minute or two to discuss depression, okay? That frightening moment when you finally realize how fast you’re starting to run aground in the grand canoe of life. All of you probably know that Sam is out of town this week, enjoying the southern California traffic in his rented Mustang convertible, and I’m home alone, a handicapped elderly woman with chronic pain issues who’s living in the study with freeze-dried meals, plastic spoons, an electric tea kettle and a roll of paper towels.

Feel sorry for me yet? Wait, it gets worse.

Last night I dropped the remote when I fell asleep watching TV on the chaise in the family room [see yesterday’s Howdygram post]. The damn thing just rolled off my stomach and ricocheted somewhere under the chair. I couldn’t find it. I dug around with my cane and came up empty. So I figured no big deal, when the maid stops by on Monday (today) for a pre-arranged welfare check I’ll ask her to retrieve it for me. And I also made a short list of other important shit for her to do, which included looking for cookies, getting some leftover pizza from the refrigerator in the kitchen and a few Jell-O cups, emptying my trash can in the study and smoothing out the bed.

Isidra (that’s her name, our maid) showed up on time just like she always does and gleefully accomplished everything on my list in less than 15 minutes. She asked if I want her to bring McDonald’s next time, which I declined (politely) because holy crap, does anybody still eat McDonald’s?!

It wasn’t till after she left that my pathetic reality began to sink in.

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY LITTLE PLASTIC CUP. In her zeal to be neat and tidy, and for reasons known only to her, Isidra threw out the grimy little plastic drinking cup on my desk. I NEEDED THAT CUP, DAMMIT. I can’t take my daily shitload of meds without it because nobody can swallow 14 pills at the same time drinking from a 20 oz. bottle of Diet Sunkist orange soda. So at lunch I had to pour my beverage into the 32 oz. Pyrex anvil glass measuring cup I’ve been using for my Mountain House freeze-dried entrees for senior citizens. This is like drinking from a cast iron pitcher. I WANT MY LITTLE PLASTIC CUP BACK! I’ve got more in the kitchen BUT I CAN’T GET THERE BECAUSE I CAN’T WALK. This is terrible.

COLD PIZZA TASTED BETTER WHEN I WAS IN COLLEGE. After three bites I was ready to throw up, and now I’m back to square one because I’d planned to eat that crap for lunch and dinner today.

MY LEGS ARE BLEEDING. I’ve got so much irritated skin on the backs of both thighs that I’m actually bleeding on myself. This hurts like hell, people, and I’M FUCKING MISERABLE. The latest Shit-O-Meter reading tells you everything you need to know.
I NEED MORE SLEEP AND I NEED IT NOW. Seriously. I only get three or four hours of sleep overnight so I have to rely on substanstial naps to make up the deficit. If I stop typing in the middle of sentence you’ll know why.

Just in time for all your holiday gift-giving needs, bigoted anti-gay county clerk Kim Davis stars in her very own ANDROID SMARTPHONE GAME where savvy users — probably Democrats — get to whack her with marriage licenses. Oh, boy, right?
You can check out “Condemn Kim” in this video clip from YouTube:

Thank you for reading this!

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