I Had To Google Sierra Leone To Make Sure It Is In Africa.

I am not proud, but I did have to Google that.

So anyway,this is today up until now.  I am currently in my hotel being warm and sitting down.  Thanks to my coworker Sammi, my back is not killing me – but standing still for 3 hours while waiting in the TKTS line did some damage.  I WAS going to eat before I go see Fun Home, but…I am too comfortable.  I will eat after.

Here is a secret – I come here quite often, and I do it on my own, but I am actually REALLY bad at New Yorking.  I get all the tickets I want, I get good seats, and that is the most important part – but actually figuring out what to do or where to go between shows is lost on me.  This means I do not actually eat a lot while I am here because I do not know where to go to eat;  I take cabs and Uber a lot;  and I drink a shit ton of Starbucks because it is all I know how to do.

Today I left and walked halfway to Times Square (it is about 30 blocks from my hotel).  I stopped at North Face and got a scarf because I forgot mine at home and I do not have a real winter coat and I was cold.  While at North Face an Asian  man was WIGGING OUT on the employees about the price of something.  My Customer Service Heart went out to the employees who had to deal with him.  He was gesturing emphatically.

Then I also got tired, so I Ubered the rest of the way.  I went to Starbucks, because that is what I know.  Then I stood in line at the TKTS booth and convinced a lady to see Disaster, and another to see Something Rotten and I talked a couple OUT of seeing An American in Paris.  ThenI talked with people from California who have a dog in the Westminster dog show.  I told them to find my people at the show, since we have a booth there.  The lady next to me was wearing business shoes.  Like, flats?  I guess that is what they are called?  And her feet were freezing so she put her gloves on her feet and started dancing and it was funny.

After three hours, I got my ticket and then did not know what to do.  So I went to Starbucks again.  Then I decided I was so cold, I just wanted to go back to my hotel, and I tried to get an Uber but they could not find me and I did not know where I was, and then I tried to get a cab but I fail at getting cabs.  It was so cold at this point that my glucometer would not work because it was too cold to function.

After 45 minutes, a cab guy stopped and said he is only supposed to pick up people from the hotel that was behind me, but I looked pathetic and I should get in.  I did, and he said I was pretty and he did not like to see a pretty lady looking pathetic.  He also said he was looking for a wife.  So we’re married now, and I live with him.  HA.  Not really.  I told him where I wanted to go and asked where he was from because he was listening to French people talking on the radio.  He said Sierra Leone.  I said I took French in high school and do not remember any of it.  He said if I marry him, he could teach me.

There was a bag blowing around in the street but it looked like a pigeon flopping around and I yelled “That pigeon needs help!” and then I said “Oh wait, that is a bag” and he did not say anything.

Then he dropped me off where he said I was right near my hotel, but I knew I was not, but I got out anyway and walked the remaining three blocks because I am not outspoken enough to tell a cab driver “This is not actually the place I wanted to go to.”  I did not want to offend my husband.

Let us take a moment to consider that I AM outspoken enough to tell everyone in the TKTS line exactly what they should see based on my assessment of their personality and my ability to match a show to their exact personality type, but I am NOT outspoken enough to tell a cab driver, whose job it is to take me to the right place, that he has taken me to the wrong place.

While walking I saw many dogs, which made me happy.  I considered peeing on myself just to make my legs warm and less numb.  I started making plans for what would happen if I just stopped and laid down on the ground and cried for a little bit.  Then I got to my hotel.

I am currently stuck in my hotel because I cannot face the weather.  And I also cannot face attempting to get another cab to take me to the Fun Home theater.  I will leave at some point, but my lack of getting up has forced me to have dinner after the show instead of before the show.  You know what this means?  I will be having Starbucks for the third time today before the show, just so my stomach does not growl and interfere with others’ enjoyment of Fun Home.

I will also tell you a little bit about what it is like to be in NYC with a Type 1 Diabetic who does not live here.  The blood sugar goes down, the Pepsi and cookies are consumed, the blood sugar goes up, the insulin is taken, the blood sugar goes down, the Pepsi and cookies are consumed, the blood sugar goes up, the insulin is taken….it is a never ending cycle, and because I am REALLY bad at predicting what exercise will do to my blood sugar level (it lowers it, but I always underestimate how much it lowers it), I end up with low blood sugar a lot.  But then I get really paranoid because if my blood sugar is high, sure, I will not die as easily, but then my eyes get blurry and I do not want to have blurry eyes while watching theater.  So I take insulin to make sure my eyes are not blurry, and then my blood sugar goes low again.  If I lived here, I assume I would have figured all this out by  now.

This is the dramatic interlude between more posts with lots of pictures.

The Attempted Assassination Of Darcy J.

Someone tried to kill me once.  Ok, they did not actively try to kill me, but they were going to allow me to die, and here is that story.

Once upon a time there was a shift leader at Half Price Books named Katie.  She was a big, evil, mean, manipulative jerk, only we did not realize the extent to which she controlled and tortured the staff until long after she left and people came out of their PTSD/Stockholm Syndrome clouds and told us.  She was really mean.

I am Diabetic and everyone knows this.  It is not something I hide, especially because I often whip out my glucometer and test my blood sugar right in front of people, or my insulin pump beeps, or more likely, people are asking me “Should you be eating that?” because I am scarfing down candy.  Everyone at Half Price Books knew I am Diabetic.

I went on my break one day and what I remember is shutting the door and muting the store phone because I had to make a personal call and did not want to be interrupted.  I remember “shooting up” (taking insulin) in preparation for eating.  Then I do not remember much else after that.  What I have been told is that I was on the couch in the office, with the door still shut and the phone still muted, asleep.  Katie and another shift leader, I am not sure which one, came in and said my name and poked me in the face with a pencil, and I did not respond.  So they left me there.

Diabetic or not, if someone did not respond, I would try more vigorously to wake them up, and then I would call 911 if they still did not respond.  Normal people in normal medical conditions wake up.

Katie chose not to do that, so I laid there while my blood sugar went lower.  When I was lucid enough to check it, it was 12.  Normal is 70-110.  Most people require medical attention at 30, and most people are unconscious at 20 or below.  I have never passed out before, and only needed help once in college when my blood sugar went so low I did not know what I was doing and my friend Mary gave me chocolate milk and soup because she recognized that I was not right.

I assume I was passed out.  Because I did not fall over, or at least, I do not remember falling over, I do not know if that counts as passing out.  I seem to have either sat or laid down on the couch and then just flopped over or something.

Thankfully my friend and fellow employee Sasha Griffin was smarter than any other employee working that day (who was aware of the fact that I was not waking up) realized this was not right and called my cell phone, which was under my head.  I do not know for sure, but I think Katie either shut the door to the office so Sasha could not get in, or told people to leave me there, because Sasha did not come in on her own.  I guess I answered my phone enough to realize I needed to open the door, but I do not remember that part.  I do remember Sasha handing me a Coke and I possibly remember that her sister and fellow employee Kira MIGHT have been there, but I do not know if that is true or not.  I also remember being soaked head to toe in sweat.

So Sasha brought me Coke and quite literally saved my life.  I do not think that I would have woken up on my own, because it is not like I had just fallen asleep, I was unconscious.  I do not remember the rest of that day because having your blood sugar go that low really messes with your brain and stuff, and so the rest of the day is a big blank spot.

I know that Katie told other people I was not waking up and that I was locked in the office because of what people told me afterwards.  I know that she poked me in the face with a pencil because she told the manager she did that.  What I can’t figure out and either no one will tell me or no one wants to admit that they were assholes, is why Sasha is the only one who was willing to not let me die.  Maybe these people were too stupid to realize that a person who isn’t waking up isn’t normal?  Maybe this happens often in their house?  I don’t know.  I also don’t know how long it would have taken me to actually die, but I know that a blood sugar level of 12 is ridiculously low and I probably should have been in the hospital at some point.

I have been really bitter about this since it happened, but at the time, it was made even more complicated by the fact that I got fired for being late coming back from break.  I had been late to work twice in the year previous to this event, and the third time is the time you get fired.  I wrote a note in my stupor, and I don’t know what it said and no one ever showed it to me afterwards, but my manager said that it said something like “I took insulin and didn’t eat and my blood sugar was low so I understand if you have to fire me”.  The firing came from a long discussion that resulted in “She took insulin and voluntarily didn’t eat so it’s her fault”.  Needless to say, I called the corporate office and was “unfired” within two hours.  I was told I did not make it clear it was a medical emergency.  I could understand that, depending on what I wrote.  If I said I took insulin and didn’t eat, most people who worked with me knew that meant I would have been impaired in some way, but I can’t expect someone to know that me being unconscious was a result of low blood sugar….except that actually, yes I can, and that’s a big part of the reason I am still bitter about it.  I WAS UNCONSCIOUS.  Someone should have called 911.  They LITERALLY left me back there to die.  And *I* am the one who got fired?!

One of the “post drama” rumors was that Katie actually told people to leave me back there because she wanted to make me look bad, and if that is the case, Sasha is even more of a super hero for defying orders.  But even if that isn’t the case, there were probably 8-10 people there that day who chose not to call an ambulance when a coworker was in a very clear medical emergency.  WTF?!  Who does that?!

I feel like I should be allowed to sue someone for attempted murder.  At the time, partly because of the after effects of such low blood sugar and partly because of the shock of actually being fired for that – I never really asked anyone, Katie in particular, why they were ok with me dying back there.  What if Sasha didn’t realize I didn’t come back after break, or didn’t hear Katie laughing about how I wasn’t waking up?  What if no one came back there for an hour and I was actually dead?  I probably still would have been fired.

I am happy to say that would not happen where I currently work.  If they saw me unconscious, they are smart enough to know that isn’t normal, and they are nice enough to not intentionally leave me unconscious because they want to make me look bad.

Here is a picture of Harry Connick Jr. from when I saw him in concert last night.  We waited in the sleet and hail by his tour bus and he came out and very quickly signed autographs.  My friend Sabrina the Human took this picture.  I handed him my “myfoodisproblematic” business card with a picture of my cat on it and I said “Hi Harry Connick Jr. this is a picture of my cat and it has my website on it and there are videos of dogs eating peanut butter” and he said “That’s awesome, I love that!  Thank you!” so now maybe Harry Connick Jr. will watch the videos of dogs eating peanut butter.

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