Happy Birthday to Me

I was born at 7:20 am on this day in 1960. I weighed 9 lbs 7 ounces. My mother never forgave me.

It’s also David Boyd’s birthday.

12:30: My Mom called to congratulate me. No one is more politically astute than my Mom. We agreed that Sean Hannity is a turd and that Obama screwed up last week. Unlike me, she’s not ready to throw in the towel, just yet.

BTW, she found nothing wrong with the Rev. Jeremiah Wright.

We had a good conversation about the miserable state of the health care system. She stands up to physicians and dentists, typically men, who get out of line. I finally convinced her to lie to them. Things are improving. She knows lots of people being prescribed statins who are having the scrips filled and throwing the pills away.

I forgot to tell you I went to the endocrinologist Thursday morning. I was sick as a dog, my blood glucose was 258 and my a1c was 10.2. Obviously, I was in a lot of trouble. But I’d been exercising, taking my meds and watching my diet. I’d even lost 5 lbs. She had taken my off Avandia and so put me on Duetact.

So, I was telling my Mom, and she said that was nothing. Mom said that anytime she has stress from a virus or injury (she’s having knee problems), her blood glucose skyrockets. I’ll buy that for the 258, but not the a1c.

7:00: I’m starting to get afraid. The Romaine grew an inch today.