We’re in hell…

 It is too hot for humans here. It’s been weeks of 105-117 degree heat. I went swimming tonight after 6pm for the first time in a week ( the reason is coming up) and even though the pool was in the shade by then, the water feels…. Thick. Super hot, like, cooking me. I did get to swim for about an hour but, nah, man. So, remember this because two weeks from now when the nights start getting into the 70’s the water will start cooling off and then it will get to be 90’s during the day and 50-60 degrees at night then the water will be too cold… hear me out, I just write that when it’s 90 degrees out, it’s too cold to swim… this is from someone who grew up when the max heat in the summer was like 90 degrees. Did I only swim in cold pools? I remember a night at a boys parent’s house where we were skinning dipping. Didn’t feel cold at all…

So, why haven’t I gone swimming… well, I’ve mentioned this before, there’s a tanning pad at the very front of the pool. Then along the length of the pool, under the water, is a concrete sitting area. I cannot manage to avoid that thing… so I’m swimming and I whacked my left foot on the concrete. I literally peeled the skin off my foot by the toes and also…. Broke two toes. Ya, I’m a genius. 

I’m feeling sick about what’s going to happen with my aunt. I’m also an excited. I know my last post was a little nuts. My anxiety was spinning. I can assure everyone wondering if my letter was just a free fall like my post, that it was not. It was a well written bullet point type letter withholding the rage. Yes, obviously it wasn’t asking them to come over for coffee. I didn’t show a lot of emotion. Factual. If that letter were to be seen ima courtroom I can’t come off like a nutter. I can rage on here or to my husband or friends. But I’m not going to put anything down in writing that isn’t 100% true, from my point of view or threaten anything.  Don’t worry! I’m by no means stupid. I removed as much emotion from my body as I possibly could when writing. I have this cool little trick where I can turn off certain feelings. It’s a survival necessity my brain and body has had to learn over my life. My husband jokes that when I’m quiet that means the storm is churning down deep. In fact when I handed him the letter he said, you’ve been very quiet. I knew something was going on. 

But he thought that someone had hurt my feelings, like a friend had said something that triggered what I call “ fifteen year old me” my dad would pick and pick and pick and scream at me and I’d scream, rage at him and then, stop. My brain would just disassociate because I would feel like I had reach a point where I could just straight up punch him. To be honest, I believe that’s what he was looking for. He never denied that. We had only hate for each other. It’s a true miracle that we became so very close. Took a lot of work and mostly on his part, admitting what he’d done. Allowing me to accuse him and describe how it felt and he would receive it in kindness and true repentance. Then I could forgive him. That is THE way to come to me to work through things. I have got to feel heard or I can’t move on.

Which, is, I suppose, why I write the letter. I need to be heard. I have no doubt in my mind that that will not be their first reaction. However, maybe they’ll take a beat and hear and feel me. 

Cross your fingers. I’d hate to have to send my Heather over there 😎😂

Speaking of her, I’m speaking with her often. She can take that public mask off with me and cry, tell me that she’s scared. 

THAT UP THERE….

Was written yesterday while I was writing I had a medical emergency impose itself on me. 

Background:

When I was pregnant with Josh I got gestational diabetes. My bio father’s family is full of diabetics. Good times.

After my pregnancy no doctor ever checked me again. Ok, cool. Then in 2008 I drove my kids from Arizona to Texas to visit JD. I was feeling…. Weird… then we went to Six Flags and I was drinking pop with sugar ( I rarely say pop anymore because I get laughed at by the natives) I got to feeling…. Really bad.

Eventually we drive home and my husband was driving. ( he flew back) he had worked all day and we had to drive 18 hours, I had to pee like every hour on the hour and my brain was popping, like it felt electric and I felt soooo bad. I couldn’t take some driving time because my vision was fucked up.

Anyway, husband stayed for like two days and left again.

I got up, took Mi-ya to school and then sat in my driveway, called my husband and said “ I’m dying. I can feel myself dying. My candle is being burnt out” so he thinks… hey! Let’s check your blood sugar and it was so high that the monitor couldn’t read it. I called my husband who yelled “ get to the fucking hospital!” I called my dad who was diabetic and he yelled “ get to the fucking hospital!” I was losing my vision, why didn’t I call an ambulance? I mean, why would I do something safer? 

I get to the hospital, they test me, put me in a side room and said they only had beds for people who were considered life or death, a doctor walked into the room and said “ I’ve called and got her a room” my OM was with me and she immediately started making the “ Oh shite!” Calls.

The following day doc asked where my husband was. I told him and he said “ if he wants to see you he needs to fly home now.” Not scary at all…. Could not get my blood sugar down so a coma is coming up the pike. Husband was working on an Air Force Base. A Colonel got him on a plane leaving from the base. That was exceptionally nice! By the way!

Guess who lived? No, ME, silly!

They told me that I might never get my vision back to normal. I did.  Telling you, I don’t fuck around. 😉

Present day!

I have long acting insulin that I take at night. I am insulin resistant so I have to take a lot. Then I also have a pen for emergencies that’s fast acting. 

While I’m typing away I reach for my insulin, it was 2am. 

I crank the pen up to very high dose and inject it. Typing typing typing… I go to put it back and realize that I just fucking dosed the shit out of myself with fast acting insulin. I, kind of freak out.

I get my emergency pens to take if your sugars go too low, under 70. At 54 you can start to get brain damage… and I’m thinking “ WTF DO I DO?” So I wake up my husband calmly..  no, really, it was calm… and I tell him to get up, I’m going to call poison control and then comes the bad news… oh, also, my blood sugar was only at 100 when I did this incredibly stupid thing…

We call poison control and they say “ you’ve overdosed. It is imperative that you  all an ambulance right this minute. Get the pens out, have someone administer the shot, start eating honey straight from the bottle. Now, I don’t eat honey because it’s pure sugar but I always have local honey around, I’m supposed to eat it until the ambulance comes and two things, SILVER LINING! And my blood sugar was at 50. Coma territory.  Tell them that I’ve overdosed. 

Turns out that that gets an ambulance to your house pretty fucking fast. My husband was panicking because we get in with a fob, HOW ARE THEY GOING TO GET IN?! Well as it turns out, they have keys to control the elevators and doors. I’m all… Calm the fuck down!!! You’re going to give me a coma or a stroke! Just whisper. Turn all the lights off. Let me nurse a bottle of honey. Keep your thoughts in your brain. Shhhhhhh

EIGHT HOURS. That’s what it takes with a lot of honey and a glucose drip. 

So, that was cool. Not even fall yet and I’ve made the first trip to the hospital. I’m like “ Miss me,Bitches?!” 

Guess who lived? Yes! Me!! WTF?! 

I have felt like I was ran over my a Mack Truck. 

On a good note…. I still made two shirts AND had a programming issue that I had to figure out for a few HOURS. Go me! 

Love love love the pic. So fucking good to see your face. 

Song!!

I don’t believe you By Pink.

This was a whole therapy album!

Sleep tight, Luvs

Me