Some Days You Just Have to Blog

Some days are so crappy there is nothing better to do at the end of the day than to sit back and blog about it.

I have to work from 9-12 this morning. I didn't get to bed till 2 last night, so I wasn't thrilled about waking up. Worst part was, for the first second after waking up I thought it was saturday and I had set my alarm by mistake. No go.

I take a shot for a bowl of cereal, then promptly realize there is no time for that, so I construct a peanut butter and jelly sandwich which I figured would have a similar carb count.

On the way to work there was a car accident, so I manage to get to work 5 minutes late. Not bad considering.

Work was fine, but I ended up leaving 10 minutes late. Not a huge deal, but I have to be to school by 1pm, and school is 45 minutes away. I realize I forgot one of my lab manuals essential for my class, so I must stop at home first. Luckily, home is on the way. I get home, grab my binder, and a coupon for Arbys. I hate fast food, but I'm hungry and once again late, and already had pb and j on the run once already. I'm on R right now, so I get to the car and decide to guesstimate carbs for Arbys and shoot up. I also decide to do this without testing first, but hey, I feel in range. I decide to cover for 60 grams of carb for a sandwich and medium french fry. Probably a low estimate, but I figure I'll go with it for now, then correct later if I need to. I take the dose, then watch as the cover to the one and only syringe I have on me falls into that space under the emergency brake that no one knows where it leads to. I happen to have a screw driver on the floor in my car, and try to get at it with that, but no luck. I don't want to throw an uncovered syringe I may need to use again back in my bag, so I open my meter case, and have an "Ah ha!" moment. There is a lancet cover not being used. I decide to try it over the syringe. Perfect fit. And I am on the road again.

I get my food at Arbys, and it's actually surprisingly good. I hate driving and eating. Yeah, hey, all you people with automatic transmissions- try shifting and eat ing and stearing and clutching and gasing and braking all at the same time. But I proved it could be done.

I get to school 10 minutes before class starts. Yes, good fortune has been bestowed upon me! Unforunately, the parking gods are not with me this day. My class I have today is in the one and only academic building on the outskirts of campus. I cruise through the street parking near that building, go down two blocks, nothing is open. Well, at least nothing legal.

I turn around and decide to check out the parking lots in the middle of campus. The first two show nothing. I go to the third. Here I see not 1, no 2, but 3 cars taking up more than one spot. I get ticketed for the most minor parking infringements. Why are these people not ticketed? I know why. Because it's 10 degrees out and no security guard wants to be in the middle of a parking lot looking for cars to tick. I find a spot 5 blocks away from my class. Parking successfully killed 8 of the 10 minutes I had to get to class.

I race to my class, then remember I injected in my thigh because I figured I would be sitting for awhile. Diabetes conscience (a small part of your brain anterior to your cerebellum- yes, I made that up) tells me this racing will cause the insulin to absorb faster and put me at risk for hypoglycemia. Oh well, I underbolused, remember?

I get to class 2 minutes late. Well, better than what I pulled off for work this morning I guess. Professor is handing back exams. I see the grade distribution put on board. Only 2 As in the class. Wow. I get my paper back and am glad to see I am one of those As! Yay!

That class goes uneventfully and brings us to 2:15. My next class is at 2:30. One the 4th floor. Of a building on the other side of campus. Yay, more racing.

I get there right as class is suppose to start, put my lab coat on, disinfect my lab bench, and decide it's time to test. I leave the room (it's a microbiology lab, testing in class would violate every infection control rule I can think of). I get into the hall, and open up my meter case to see one stinkin strip. Better make it a good one. It wasn't- it was and error message.

Professor comes to class 5 minutes late (it's about time someone is late besides me!). Lab instruction brings us to 5 pm. Then professor hands back two tests. I got a B+ on one, and failed the other. One out of two ain't bad I guess.

After lab I have to go to the computer lab to finish typing a paper I'm working on. I get to computer lab. I open up my files. It refuses to open. Darn it! So I settle on going home, of course hitting rush hour traffic. I get home at 6:15. I eat dinner, still not having tested since my fasting blood sugar this morning.

I eat, then go upstairs and test. I clock in at a lovely 133. Some days I think I would be better off just ignoring diabetes more often.

I bolus for the meal, plus a half unit correction for kicks, since I get suspicious about numbers that seem too good to be true. Then I get to work on the paper. I though paper would take no time to finish. I was wrong. Health histories of pediatric patients are long. Very long. Three hours later and 20 pages (SINGLE spaced) later, I'm done. I go to print. Not only is my meter error messaging on me, my printer is too. Darn it.

We have one more print I shall try, otherwise, I need to try at school again tomorrow. I think I solved the problem for why the file won't read though.

Tomorrow I have a test for this same 8 am class the paper is due for. Have I studied for said test? No. I can't do everything. It's 20 to midnight, and I have to get up at 6:30. So over and out. Tomorrow is another day.