So twice in the last year I've accidentally taken my fast acting insulin instead of my slow acting insulin before going to bed. Which means I have to find a way to ingest somewhere between 140-170 grams of sugar before going to bed... which I was totally going to do in like 5 minutes, but whatever.
Do you know how hard it is to eat 17 sugar tablets? Followed by 2 packs of fruit gummies? Followed by a Smirnoff Ice? Followed by a soda?
And I'm on a diet, too. Which means--besides the very serious mindset I have adopted and maintained when it comes to food--my stomach is also much smaller than it should be, so trying to ingest this much "yuck" is devastating both physically and mentally.
140g of sugar is 540 goddamn calories, which is like 1/2 of what I allow myself usually. Which means I will try starving tomorrow. Or just give up on losing any weight this week. I guess I could try to burn 540 calories tomorrow.... great, that'll take about 2 and a half hours.
The only bright side to all of this is that I get to drink Smirnoff Ice.
I am probably going to vomit rainbows into my toilet.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
Treating Your Body Like Crap: It's a Multifactorial Condition!
I have lost fine touch sensation in the middle of my right foot. This is not good, but I hope it is transient. There are four potential causes:
1) Tarsal Tunnel Syndrome. I have Carpal Tunnel, so it's quite possibly I have developed tarsal tunnel as well. I noticed an unusual pain in both of my feet the past couple of days when using Wii Fit. I assumed it was due to the stiffness of the wii fit board. But perhaps my nerves are being crushed.
2) Malnutrition. So I've been dieting. I have lost 15 pounds in two months, which puts me at the upper limits of safe weight loss (losing 3.5 pounds per two weeks is frowned upon by Wii Fit, so I assume it's a little extreme). I could be anorexic. This is exciting--if only because this would be the easiest condition to fix. It would be a lot easier to take a multivitamin than to deal with the next two issues:
3) Chronic Alcohol Abuse. I could have a thiamine deficiency due to my excessive drinking; it could have been exacerbated by my low food intake. Thiamine is necessary in maintaining nerve health, and a deficiency frequently presents as numbness and tingling of the peripheries. I did not notice I had a problem, but I also stopped counting drinks this summer, so it's possible. I do not have Wernicke-Korsakoff's Syndrome yet, which is marked by confusion, mild amnesia, and confabulation. I guess I should ask my friends if my mental status seems appropriate and if they've noticed me walking around disoriented. I think I'm going to stay completely sober for the next five days and see what happens. Sadly, dealing with potential alcoholism would be preferable to the final cause:
4) Diabetic Neuropathy. I started crying when I woke up in the middle of the night and still couldn't feel the carpet underneath my middle toe as I walked to my kitchen. I really, really don't want to have the neuropathy creeping up my legs, starting at the age of 23. But I have other warning signs of peripheral neuropathy: orthostatic hypotension (I've always had it, but it's getting worse... I just assumed it was from dieting) and frequently waking up in the middle of the night. I need to go to Walgreens and purchase an A1c test. I thought I was doing a good job with my sugars, but I also thought I was doing a good job with my alcohol intake and my dieting. So who knows.
I should also probably see a doctor.
But I'm in medical school.
And ain't nobody got time for that.
Plan of Action:
1) Tarsal Tunnel Syndrome. I have Carpal Tunnel, so it's quite possibly I have developed tarsal tunnel as well. I noticed an unusual pain in both of my feet the past couple of days when using Wii Fit. I assumed it was due to the stiffness of the wii fit board. But perhaps my nerves are being crushed.
2) Malnutrition. So I've been dieting. I have lost 15 pounds in two months, which puts me at the upper limits of safe weight loss (losing 3.5 pounds per two weeks is frowned upon by Wii Fit, so I assume it's a little extreme). I could be anorexic. This is exciting--if only because this would be the easiest condition to fix. It would be a lot easier to take a multivitamin than to deal with the next two issues:
3) Chronic Alcohol Abuse. I could have a thiamine deficiency due to my excessive drinking; it could have been exacerbated by my low food intake. Thiamine is necessary in maintaining nerve health, and a deficiency frequently presents as numbness and tingling of the peripheries. I did not notice I had a problem, but I also stopped counting drinks this summer, so it's possible. I do not have Wernicke-Korsakoff's Syndrome yet, which is marked by confusion, mild amnesia, and confabulation. I guess I should ask my friends if my mental status seems appropriate and if they've noticed me walking around disoriented. I think I'm going to stay completely sober for the next five days and see what happens. Sadly, dealing with potential alcoholism would be preferable to the final cause:
4) Diabetic Neuropathy. I started crying when I woke up in the middle of the night and still couldn't feel the carpet underneath my middle toe as I walked to my kitchen. I really, really don't want to have the neuropathy creeping up my legs, starting at the age of 23. But I have other warning signs of peripheral neuropathy: orthostatic hypotension (I've always had it, but it's getting worse... I just assumed it was from dieting) and frequently waking up in the middle of the night. I need to go to Walgreens and purchase an A1c test. I thought I was doing a good job with my sugars, but I also thought I was doing a good job with my alcohol intake and my dieting. So who knows.
I should also probably see a doctor.
But I'm in medical school.
And ain't nobody got time for that.
Plan of Action:
- Multivitamin (must have Vitamin B1, B6, and B12)
- Limit alcohol completely
- Test A1c; if above 7.0, make doctor's appointment
Update (3:41 PM 8/27/12):
It was a thiamine deficiency! Or, it probably is a thiamine deficiency (I still can't feel my foot). I am excited though because it is probably a thiamine deficiency arising from not eating enough food or drinking too much alcohol--no, I most likely have a thiamine deficiency from taking too much Vitamin B12. Overdosing on one B vitamin can create a deficiency in the rest because they are linked together biochemically.
Updated Plan of Action:
- A Multivitamin was purchased and it has all EIGHT B Vitamins
- Still planning on reducing alcohol, but I won't stay away from it completely
- Checked my A1c: it was 6.1. How low is that? It's practically normal. Huzzah!
Sunday, August 26, 2012
"Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of
sun-split clouds
-
and done a hundred things You have not dreamed
of-
wheeled
and soared and swung high in the sunlit
silence.
Hovering there I've
chased the
shouting wind along
and flung my eager craft through footless
halls of air.
"Up, up the long delirious
burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept
heights with
easy grace,
where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
and,
while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
the
high untrespassed sanctity
of space,
put out my hand and touched the
face of God."
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Not As Directed
I am resting my forearms on the topmost shelf of the convenience store. Or some store. Whatever store sells drugs. I'm in a Walgreens. Walgreens is a convenience store, right? I am resting my forearms on a shelf looking at the different bottles of painkillers displayed in front of my eyes. I have slung a small bag over my shoulder; its weight is momentous and I don't feel like displacing my feet in any direction for fear I'll fall over. I have also been drinking. I am drinking. There is a fifth of a sugary schnapp in my right hand. It is delicious. I am humming what I think is the jingle for Advil--did not know they had one until this moment--when someone calls for me. I hyperactively turn towards the noise.
"Excuse me miss" he says again, "that is not allowed in here."
I look at him and I look at my right hand. "Sorry. I can't drink in here?"
Sometimes asking a question in a cute way alleviates the guilt you feel for having committed an act. Also, most dudes stop being such jackasses when you appear to have not known any better. It is not working on this man. He is a pharmacist and he appears to be the only other person in Walgreens besides the two middle aged blonde women working the front counters I passed along the way. We are separated by eleven feet of brightly lit beige linoleum and a wide desk separating "over-the-counter" from "prescribed". He is around my height, a non-distinct face under a cloud of blemishes, south asian features and coloration.
"No miss, you cannot."
He is being harsh. I cannot tell if it is unwarranted or not. I blink at him several times to see if he will disappear. Like a lot of other things today, he does not. This upsets me further. I fight the urge to start crying, remembering I could probably be arrested for my current behavior. This makes me want to cry more.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know." I turn back to the schnapps that I had left sitting on the top shelf and screw its top back on. I look at it, look at the man--who is still staring at me, scowling--look back at the drink, and then take a few steps closer to the counter. The man moves his arms from their position by his side to in front of him, letting his four digit form a balance for him on the ledge, his thumb likely wrapped underneath. His stance seems aggressive. I stop walking.
"I'm sorry. You are new here. You must be new here. I'm sorry. I know it's really annoying to hear drunk--well I'm not drunk, I'm just tipsy--it's annoying to hear inebriated people say "they're sorry" like a hundred times but I am sorry and you must be new here, right? Have you ever heard of Spring Party Weekend?" He doesn't respond, but his face lightens a bit. He is no longer scowling. I continue. "Well it's Spring Party Weekend which means everyone at school begins drinking during the day, like right now, and everyone just drinks a lot. I have a terrible headache so that doesn't help, and my boyfriend is being a jerk and I just really need to drink right now. I know that that sounds really terrifying and I know I still have to leave the store but I will probably be back here again because I have a myriad of health problems and I just don't want you to think that I'm a poorly behaved teenager because I am actually a pretty decent and respectful person. I don't know why I said teenager. I am twenty-one."
During my monologue my eyes had wandered to rest on a pile of pamphlets offering custom medical I.D. bracelets and necklaces. I return to look at him. He seems to be smiling. I smile too. I wonder if he will jump over the counter to give me a hug. I could use a hug. He won't give me a hug. That is an irrational thought, I realize. Drunken disorder. I keep staring at him, wondering if he will give me some sort of speech or if he will sheepishly allow me to stay in Walgreens, drink in hand. But he raises his arm to point to the exit. I stare at his face a few seconds longer. There is no malice. He is still smiling though. My smile waivers. I turn to leave.
My canvas shoes hit the concrete outside and I imagine what the pharmacist's speech would have sounded like: "Face your own problems." Fine. I finish my schnapps, toss the bottle in a convenient trash can outside the convenience store, and begin walking across the parking lot, trying to remember the last place I saw my boyfriend.
"Excuse me miss" he says again, "that is not allowed in here."
I look at him and I look at my right hand. "Sorry. I can't drink in here?"
Sometimes asking a question in a cute way alleviates the guilt you feel for having committed an act. Also, most dudes stop being such jackasses when you appear to have not known any better. It is not working on this man. He is a pharmacist and he appears to be the only other person in Walgreens besides the two middle aged blonde women working the front counters I passed along the way. We are separated by eleven feet of brightly lit beige linoleum and a wide desk separating "over-the-counter" from "prescribed". He is around my height, a non-distinct face under a cloud of blemishes, south asian features and coloration.
"No miss, you cannot."
He is being harsh. I cannot tell if it is unwarranted or not. I blink at him several times to see if he will disappear. Like a lot of other things today, he does not. This upsets me further. I fight the urge to start crying, remembering I could probably be arrested for my current behavior. This makes me want to cry more.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know." I turn back to the schnapps that I had left sitting on the top shelf and screw its top back on. I look at it, look at the man--who is still staring at me, scowling--look back at the drink, and then take a few steps closer to the counter. The man moves his arms from their position by his side to in front of him, letting his four digit form a balance for him on the ledge, his thumb likely wrapped underneath. His stance seems aggressive. I stop walking.
"I'm sorry. You are new here. You must be new here. I'm sorry. I know it's really annoying to hear drunk--well I'm not drunk, I'm just tipsy--it's annoying to hear inebriated people say "they're sorry" like a hundred times but I am sorry and you must be new here, right? Have you ever heard of Spring Party Weekend?" He doesn't respond, but his face lightens a bit. He is no longer scowling. I continue. "Well it's Spring Party Weekend which means everyone at school begins drinking during the day, like right now, and everyone just drinks a lot. I have a terrible headache so that doesn't help, and my boyfriend is being a jerk and I just really need to drink right now. I know that that sounds really terrifying and I know I still have to leave the store but I will probably be back here again because I have a myriad of health problems and I just don't want you to think that I'm a poorly behaved teenager because I am actually a pretty decent and respectful person. I don't know why I said teenager. I am twenty-one."
During my monologue my eyes had wandered to rest on a pile of pamphlets offering custom medical I.D. bracelets and necklaces. I return to look at him. He seems to be smiling. I smile too. I wonder if he will jump over the counter to give me a hug. I could use a hug. He won't give me a hug. That is an irrational thought, I realize. Drunken disorder. I keep staring at him, wondering if he will give me some sort of speech or if he will sheepishly allow me to stay in Walgreens, drink in hand. But he raises his arm to point to the exit. I stare at his face a few seconds longer. There is no malice. He is still smiling though. My smile waivers. I turn to leave.
My canvas shoes hit the concrete outside and I imagine what the pharmacist's speech would have sounded like: "Face your own problems." Fine. I finish my schnapps, toss the bottle in a convenient trash can outside the convenience store, and begin walking across the parking lot, trying to remember the last place I saw my boyfriend.
Monday, August 20, 2012
A Secondary Concern
So my life isn't actually difficult. That may be a modest statement, but I do not believe I am lying when I say my life could be far, far worse. My parents are both decent people who have worked hard to make sure their future kids would have almost everything we could ever want. I hesitate to say I have a "disposable" income, but if I spend an extra $500 in a month, nobody seems to notice. And $500 is a lot of money to be throwing around. So yes. My life, financially, and in many other ways, is not difficult at all.
And this is how it would appear to most close minded people.
Because the fact is, no matter how perfect my life is, society is always nearby, waiting to fuck shit up for people like me who are content. Today some goddamn, middle age white politician made a really dumb comment about rape and how it actually works. BUT HE HAS NO IDEA HOW IT ACTUALLY WORKS (probably. It's very possible that he has been raped, but seeing as he seems stable enough saying such horrible things, imma just assume he's never been violated before).
And so today, I flocked to my favorite blogs which are progressive and/or feminist, and I read professional writers' takes on the comment, and then I got to read comments made by other women (and a few good men) that mirrored my own sentiments. And I finally felt safe....
Except I didn't, because now I know that there are men out in the country--men who are close to controlling parts of this country--who lack the ability to understand 1) science and 2) humanity. It's disturbing and disgusting. It shouldn't be happening. This is not a country I would like to be a part of.
In a way, this is exactly how I felt in the months following the Trayvon Martin shooting. Most people I talked to and most people I heard recognized the murder as a tragedy. But then there were a few people who wouldn't just agree on the simple goddamn point that murdering a 17 year old is wrong. A few of these people were my friends--which was incredibly disturbing. But then there were also famous people and politicians. How many people in this country are racists? How many of those people hold political power? This is not a country I would like to be a part of.
So yes, my life is objectively great. But I am this close to breaking down because as long as I have been able to feel pride or disappointment in my self, I have been fed constant reminders--through peers and through politics--that I am somehow less than great. This is not a country I would like to be a part of. I never feel safe because in my mind, worst case scenarios play out, and they always end up with me being raped or murdered with no punishment given to the offender. It's a terrifying thought. It makes me want to figure out what other people think of me: do they see me as an actual human being?
And so I am constantly losing my humanity.
I wonder how many white men feel this way.
And this is how it would appear to most close minded people.
Because the fact is, no matter how perfect my life is, society is always nearby, waiting to fuck shit up for people like me who are content. Today some goddamn, middle age white politician made a really dumb comment about rape and how it actually works. BUT HE HAS NO IDEA HOW IT ACTUALLY WORKS (probably. It's very possible that he has been raped, but seeing as he seems stable enough saying such horrible things, imma just assume he's never been violated before).
And so today, I flocked to my favorite blogs which are progressive and/or feminist, and I read professional writers' takes on the comment, and then I got to read comments made by other women (and a few good men) that mirrored my own sentiments. And I finally felt safe....
Except I didn't, because now I know that there are men out in the country--men who are close to controlling parts of this country--who lack the ability to understand 1) science and 2) humanity. It's disturbing and disgusting. It shouldn't be happening. This is not a country I would like to be a part of.
In a way, this is exactly how I felt in the months following the Trayvon Martin shooting. Most people I talked to and most people I heard recognized the murder as a tragedy. But then there were a few people who wouldn't just agree on the simple goddamn point that murdering a 17 year old is wrong. A few of these people were my friends--which was incredibly disturbing. But then there were also famous people and politicians. How many people in this country are racists? How many of those people hold political power? This is not a country I would like to be a part of.
So yes, my life is objectively great. But I am this close to breaking down because as long as I have been able to feel pride or disappointment in my self, I have been fed constant reminders--through peers and through politics--that I am somehow less than great. This is not a country I would like to be a part of. I never feel safe because in my mind, worst case scenarios play out, and they always end up with me being raped or murdered with no punishment given to the offender. It's a terrifying thought. It makes me want to figure out what other people think of me: do they see me as an actual human being?
And so I am constantly losing my humanity.
I wonder how many white men feel this way.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)