Monthly Archives: March 2023

Another week of drastically changing weather

We have had days of almost 80°F highs and low 40°s lows the next day. One doesn’t know how to dress to avoid getting too hot or too cold. In other news, I will get to spend time with my wife on 2 consecutive days as my son takes some time to be with his friends for a while.

And while I was composing this post, Agent Orange was indicted by a NY grand jury, but as I’m writing this has yet to be arrested. May his bail be denied as a flight risk. Trump indictment and what it means. As of now I don’t know what he’s indicted for, speculation is that the indictment is for covering up the Stormy Daniels hush money. As the old saying goes it’s not the crime but the coverup of the crime that gets you.

Anywho, back to spending time with my wife, and I don’t know what I’ll be doing for dinner on either night, I have some canned soup I could bring…


I’m having to adapt

I’m on a new med for my blood sugar and things have changed. I used to graze on salty snacks, but my salty snacks have all been high carbs like pretzels or cheesypoofs or popcorn. But if I don’t graze during the day I get famished, which is why I started grazing in the first place, not just because “Kuchisabishii” or in English “Lonely Mouth”. My normal breakfast is a bowl of oatmeal which while high protein is not very filling and I get hungry again real quick. Or I would have a pack of PopTarts, which is not very filling or high protein. And well before any reasonable lunch time I’m STARVING!!!!1!!one!!!!

So now I’m looking for filling, high fiber, salty snacks to prevent my stomach from digesting itself. This isn’t low blood sugar, which was something else I need to keep aware of and which I know how it feels from hundreds of miles of “Bonk Training” for the Hotter’n’ Hell Hundred, and from when I was riding to Sherman from Dallas and back to visit an ex in a nursing home that got washed away in a flood. This is literal needing to put something in my stomach to keep it from trying to digest itself. The problem is I don’t have much of a food budget that I can afford that kind of snack food, and I can’t eat the kind of snacks I can afford, at least not any more. So while I exercise my Google-fu, I eagerly accept suggestions of low-cost high-fiber snacks, salty or sweet, that are suitable for grazing like I would pretzel sticks with peanut butter. I’m trying to keep my net carbs down for my blood sugar, and I really should be watching my fats because my lipids were also a little high.

I was talking with someone…

About my history, and they said it sounded like some kind of impossible story. Between my childhood, and getting killed by the truck, and my love life, sometimes even I can’t believe it, and I lived it. If you look at my life as a book series with different writers, it starts making some sense, but seriously, my life doesn’t make any sense.

I have mentioned that I had a chaotic childhood. As an illustration of that I was registered to attend 17 schools from K-12 counting the one I graduated from and one I went to twice, 5th and the first half of 6th and the first half of 8th. And 8th was the worst, that was the year I registered for 4 schools and actually got to attend 2. Those schools were Kenitra American Jr-Sr, Decaturville Elementary, some school in Newport RI, and Middletown Middle. of those I only saw the first two and the last, because the first house we were going to rent got blacklisted after we got ready to move in for some reason after we got registered for school but before we moved in, so I never even saw the school.

Another illustration of that was I somehow was proposed to when I was either 11 or 12, the exact year escapes me at the moment. I was watching a girl not much older than me weaving a rug in Morocco, and while I was watching the loom she thought I was watching her in a romantic way. Since I hadn’t reached puberty yet I wasn’t really paying much attention to her, but I guess I was watching the loom she was working so intently she got the wrong idea. What made it worse was I didn’t speak any French or Arabic outside of knowing the swears in case I made someone angry. Someone asking me to marry them was entirely outside my vocabulary. And thinking about it this was the summer after 6th grade, so I was 12 then, still way too young to get married. This was the incident we used to establish why I was immortal in Shadowrun, I pissed off a magic user when I refused to get married so I was cursed with immortality without eternal youth so condemned to get old and messed up, but never die so eternal pain and torment. This was used to explain how in-game I survived getting hit by a pickup truck at 60 MPH. The only way I could survive that in game would to either be a dragon in human form, not allowed by the rules, or to be otherwise immortal, allowed by the rules.

I mentioned I have an interesting love life, which was apparently written as a hentai harem story, especially my 30s and 40s. Let’s just simplify it and say that period of my life did not lack for sex partners, as one put it, it wasn’t so much that I was Mr. Right as I was Mr. Right There, and I was good at making women feel good. That was something I had been doing since I was 13, so once again back to the chaotic childhood. It’s strange how it always seems to come back to that. Anywho, opened up the marriage and had lots of girlfriends and other lovers including trans people, until the body started failing and it got real hard to find girlfriends when the Pandemic hit, which coincided with Mrs. the Poet having back surgery and totally losing interest in sex for over a year because it caused her pain. So, new author who doesn’t write sex scenes for seniors and I’m celibate because I can’t find any women, because I haven’t been social since 3/2020. I literally haven’t left the house since then except to grocery shop, go to the Lab Rat Keeper and the brain doctor, or get a haircut, massage, or a pedicure since I can’t reach my toes.

And I have had my share of surgeries on my leg and to get tumors removed, nothing to say and except for the skin graft from the truck hitting me and blowing my leg open there isn’t much to show with modern methods of closing the surgical wound. Seriously I have had 3 tumors removed and I can’t even find the scars since they started using glue instead of stitches on the top closure.

And that pretty much sums everything up for today.

Talked with my doctor today

We discussed my recent blood test results and getting my meds up to date. One of the things we talked about was it took since 2007, but I finally got my red count in the green, I’m no longer borderline anemic. But my sugar and cholesterol are both borderline high, enough that he prescribed a blood-sugar medication. My calcium and magnesium are both mid-range, where the calcium was high and the magnesium had been low. But basically I’m in pretty good heath for someone my age and especially considering what I’ve been through.

So, everybody can stop worrying about my physical health. My mental health is still up for debate, however.

I don’t have enough caffeine for this

Sorry if this post is a little more disjointed than usual, but an insurance person called me before either of my alarms went off, so I’m both underslept, and uncaffeinated. My spell checker needs a larger vocabulary/dictionary, because it is showing both underslept and uncaffeinated as spelled wrong, but Google says I spelled them both right.

Anywho, I was called before my first alarm went off at 1000, about getting me the best deal for Medicare, and for me it’s Medigap to cover my deductibles and copays because apparently getting killed doesn’t count as a pre-existing condition, if I’m talking to them on the phone. So, I got set up on a policy that uses Medicare for most of my medical costs but covers the rest so my out-of-pocket should be pretty much nothing. The downside is I have a $120~ monthly premium, so another expense I have to cover on top of everything else.

And now it’s after 1500 and I’m fading because of that lack of sleep, so I’ll put this post to bed and get some food so I have the calories I need to function.

Hips are hurting and other things that aren’t new

Lately I go to bed and my hips hurt but eventually I can get to sleep. Then I wake up in the morning and they hurt again, but different, and before I have dinner, or maybe after I have lunch, they hurt like they did when I went to bed. And then they hurt like that for the rest of my day. Apparently hips that don’t hurt are not on my menu.

In other news, sky without clouds has a distinct blue tint, and rain is wet. This is my new reality, things hurt 24/7, and there’s nothing I can take that stops it. Until recently pain was a warning that something serious was wrong with me, now it’s just telling me I’m still alive. But I already know I’m alive, cogito ergo sum works for knowing the difference between alive and dead.

Also in other news, weather in the local area is changing between hot but dry and chilly and wet. Also we had a rainless T-storm come through, followed by a quiet gentle rain. Texas weather, can’t make up its mind.

Current writing jam: “Ball and Biscuit” by The White Stripes, followed by “Clint Eastwood” by gorillaz. At least I have access to good tunes these days. I hope you have a pleasant one in spite if what I’m going through, no need for both of us to have a bad day/night.

Florida man creates really stupid law

They’re really thin-skinned in FL. Florida blog registering bill and a thousand other links. I first heard about this from Steve Lehto’s You Tube video. Of course since I’m doing this blog on my own dime the proposed law doesn’t apply to me, but I’m sure that would be on me to prove I was making money off this blog, which hasn’t happened since I think 2014, might be later than that, but definitely not since 2020.

In other news Mrs. the Poet had another operation yesterday this time to repair a hole on her heel on the same foot as the hole on top of the arch of her foot, which also has a skin graft over it. The doctor days everything is healing fine and she’s doing great. The took a bone biopsy to make sure there’s no infection in the bone, and even if there was that would just mean a round of antibiotics to clear that up. I have to say that bone stuff for Mrs. the Poet are much more painful for her than bone stuff was for me after the first go-round. And I think the first go-round for me was maybe more painful because they missed the tibia portion of my Tib-Fib fracture, along with just letting the broken fibula flap in the breeze because it wasn’t weight bearing. But anyway they took a core sample out of the bone under the skin ulcer over her heel, and it’s hurting Mrs. the Poet. And the most powerful pain reliever she’s allowed is Tylenol or generic equivalents.