Fat Like a Tick

SO much is new, I hardly know where to begin...

i have been steadily working on a brand new play for the singles ministry retreat this fall and the process is absolutely life giving. our theme is centered on purpose and living like there is an intrinsic reason why each person has been sent here. Catalytic stuff. I'll let you know how it all shakes out.

What else? 4.25 gas...old hat...oh yeah: the hospital.

"evrytime i move, i lose/ when i look i'm in..."

Just got out as my sugar spiked 600--yes, you read that right--and it took a solid week to get it down from the stratosphere. Boy, am I sick of the hospital. But, even more, we are so over steroids!!! So, rather than falling on my sword and submitting to whatever the docs say on the Mount of Sinai, for the first time, I am taking on the role of empowered patient and liverdoc and I are going to actually dialogue about the strategy to get me off of these whack pills that have done everything from distort my body to making me prone and consequently subject to the skin popping world of diabetes, which I have never had before. Pray my strenght in the Lord, saints.

Had this 70yr PuertoRiquena as a roomate for just about the whole time I was [across the street] in The Jug. She was a pip. On the last day she was there, a day before I got sprung, a lovely male friend of mine came to see me. Even though I looked not unlike the crazy cat lady from the Simpsons, in my hospital drag, we had a nice visit. Nothing like a good friend when you are feeling low. Anyhoo, skip ahead to the day roomie is about to be taken home by her family. In walks this Eastern Bloc Phychiatrist who seemed to want nothing more to tighten me up for the weekend with some something direct from the apothecary to help me take the edge off, as twere.

"Are you depressed?"
No.
"Do you sleep through the night?"
No...
"Are you hopeless?"
Nope.
"Have you considered suici...?
NO!
"Why do you cry?"
Um...
[because we are at war? And because steroids gave me fat ankles, a depressed pituitary, a fat yellow face, high blood pressure, diabetes and medical bills that are threaten my FICO score hourly? Shoot, why do you cry?]
"They say you are depressed. Let me give you something to..."
I'd rather have your business card, just in case I might want to talk later.

And as soon as I made it known I was not about start shooting up and getting high with/because of/due or in response to him, he was gone like a flash. Like a vapor.

My roomate's response? "Honey, all you need is a papi chulo & you'll be just fine. You don't need another drug."

Scared of her.

Also, re: fat like a tick:

All the time, people hate on hospital food. And as many perfectly lovely places that I have had the best of the best cuts of meat, swirls of potatoes and infusions of all kinds of leeks, acai, basil, mint and sweet vidalia...your DivaCardista can get her grub on in a hospital. All week long, especially since I knew each meal cost a car note, I ate everything I could. And was not shy about asking for more. Now, of course, as a "newly diagnosed diabetic" [Sideshow Bob shudder here] there were/are limits, even beyond sugar and carbs. Yet, I managed to emerge from each meal...fat like a tick.

Now, during this life saving/life changing week, I learned a lot as well. For example, even though grape juice is a great source of antioxidants for some, the sugar it contains is far more than your Diva can metabolize. Who knew? (I was chugging it by the gallon. Literally.)

Another good thing to come out of this week was that zeal and insomnia drove me to read and write voraciously. Was all up in every magazine from O to The Atlantic to Black Enterprise to Time. And got a huge jump on my aforementioned play. I was determined not to let a week of skin popping, saline and nubby sock wearing encourage my brain turn to mush.

Speaking of mush...

Before nine this morning, we are happy to report, I was at the gym for the first time in about two weeks! You'd be surprised what a mere week in the hospital dealing with "sugar" can do to a body. SO I did my gentle "circuit", abductors, adductors--abs the hardest of the two--rescued my dry cleaning and came on home. Groovy, yes? So proud of me...

The heat is beginning to rise precipitously now, so I'm gonna close.

But I surely hope your day is a good one. If so, give a shout.

CoolNew Blessings,
DivaCardista
blessedstarcards.com