
Another day, another fight with pain and my very existence. There’s a new problem . . . Wild swings in blood sugar level. A 24-hour glucose monitor tells a story of a man with gastroparesis and exocrine pancreatitis insufficiency; a man whose pancreas is out of sync with his stomach and digestive track, leading to the abnormal highs and lows he is now facing.
It is what it is.
My partner has long since drifted off to sleep. Not me. Sleep eludes me as it has almost every night for 30 years.
1:00 AM . . . Cymbalta popped
2:00 AM . . . Cannabis gummy ingested
4:00 AM . . . Hydrocodone swallowed
Headphones on, as the sweet British voice of Jon Cohen prepares to sing me to sleep.
4:20 AM . . . I roll on my left side, pull my legs into a fetal position, and pull a large, firm pillow to my chest.
Soon after, I fall asleep,
Finally, sleep. If my blood glucose level drops below 55, an alarm will sound, hopefully waking me up.
8:10 AM . . . Partially awake, my first thought has earth shattering implications. What’s the correct word for backing up a recording; you know like backing up a car?
Dammit, why can’t I remember this word?
Too tired to care. I’ll message Carolyn later. She knows everything. Well, almost, anyway.
Back to sleep.
OCD-brain says, Wait a minute, there’s an unanswered question for you to answer!
Leave me alone.
Surely you jest. Answer the question!
Back up the recording?
Rewind the recording?
Reverse the recording?
No, dammit. What is it called when you back up-rewind-reverse, no, no, no! Dummy. It’s . . . uh . . .a time mark? Yes, that will work for me.
Finally, sleep arrives. All is right in the world, at least until I awake again a few hours later.
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