I Am A Diabetic Superhero.

This is the beginning of an influx of Joshua Bell posts.  In my three days in Jamestown, NY, I had enough weirdness for multiple posts.

This one focuses on the day I got there.  Friday.

I checked into my hotel and did my standard check for bed bugs.  I found none, so that made me happy.  I was looking at things in the area and I found the Lucy and Desi Museum, but that was kind of it.  I asked at the front desk where I should eat, and they directed me “downtown” and said there was a car festival of some sort going on.

This is what it looked like outside of my hotel, and it smelled nice like trees.  But also there was a giant cemetery to the right of this view.

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I got down there and got very confused as to where to park, but ultimately I ended up with Bastard Parking (Bastard Parking is such good parking that people say “That bastard” because they are jealous) by accident.  I walked down the street and sure enough, there were cars.  The entire street was blocked off and cars were all over the place.  And Car People.

I walked up and down the hill/street and tried to figure out where to eat.  I walked into a bar that was recommended by the Hotel People, and it was….a rectangle.  Like, you walked in and it just went straight back, like a train car, but it was not cool like a train car.  Then I saw the sign that said Cash Only, and I scooted my way back to the front door and left.

I had been walking for about 45 minutes at this point.  Here is a quick lesson in Diabetes.
Insulin lowers blood sugar levels.  Exercise = insulin, so exercise lowers blood sugar levels.  Food raises blood sugar levels.  That is all you need to know for this.

My blood sugar was low.  I had to decide on a place to eat, so I went to another recommended place called Forte, which turned out to be very fancy.  They sat me in the front window, which was super cool for two reasons.  I could watch people:

And I was between two Pokestops that had lures going:

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I ordered Pepsi (mmmm, real Pepsi) and then attempted to read the menu.  It was all spicy things that I do not like, and seafood.  I recognized steak and I recognized chicken. I asked which I should order and the lady said “Do you like anchovies?”  Obviously I do not.  So she told me to order the steak.

While I waited I caught Pokemon nonstop.  It was amazing.  And every five minutes the Pokestops would let me get the free stuff.  Then I was presented with a giant round ball of bread, which turned out to be the most amazing bread on the face of the earth.

Then came the steak, which was on top of mashed potatoes.  There are two issues with this – one is that I hate it when things are put on top of each other, and the other is that the mashed potatoes had onions in them.  Then…I didn’t know what fork to use.  I knew I was already being judged because I was sweaty, underdressed (jeans and tee shirt), alone, and I was playing Pokemon in a fancy restaurant.  I texted everyone I knew with this picture:

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I sat there for about 5 minutes waiting for someone to tell me which fork to use, and in that time, the waitress came back and asked if everything was alright.  I did not want to say “Yes, I am just waiting for someone to tell me what fork to use” so instead I said “Yes, I am sure it is but I have not tried it yet because I do not know what fork to use.”  At that exact moment, Jocelyn texted me with the answer, and before the waitress could say anything, I said “Oh, never mind, I’ve got it.”

I am not normally an eater of steak, so I cut off a hunk and shoved it in my mouth and bit, and it was a hunk of fat.  You know that feeling when you bite into fat?  That is exactly why I do not eat steak.  I panicked and immediately spit it out into my napkin.  I tried to keep my napkin secured on my lap with said chewed up hunk of fat in it, but at some point, it fell out on to the floor.  Then I had to text people and ask what to do when I drop a chewed hunk of fat on the floor.  The only responses to that were my nieces, ages 13 and 10, and the 13 year old’s friend.  “Kick it further under the table and pretend you don’t see it”, “Drop your napkin and bend down and pick it up” and “Stand up and say “someone put steak under my table”” were my options.  I opted to ignore it.

Two Pepsi’s, steak, and bread pudding later, and I did not take any insulin.  Here is the thing – when you walk, and you generally do not walk, that can affect your blood sugar for up to 10 hours later.  I was terrified of dying again so I was bound and determined to keep my blood sugar high and not let it drop suddenly.  I did not take any insulin at all to account for the food I ate.  Around midnight, my blood sugar was 430 – super high.  Around 1:30am it was around 350 – super high.  At 1pm the next day it was 111 – perfect.  All without me taking insulin.  All because of the walking affecting it over the course of the night.

Normally for a meal of that caliber, I would have taken at least 18 units of insulin.

When I drove back to my hotel, I took side streets and I drove really slow so I could catch Pokemon.  Instead, I caught a real live cat.  He was just sitting there, so I stopped and hugged him and pet him and talked to him and put him in my car.  He was happy to come with me, but then I thought that he looked very healthy and he seemed to enjoy where he was, so I thought maybe that was his yard.  I put him back on his sidewalk, and he appreciated not being catnapped.

That was my Friday night, stay tuned for Saturday!

My Mom Wants Me To Eat Dog Treats.

My mom reads Guideposts and there is almost always an article that is in some way going to save my life.  This time the article was about a man and his dog named Vinny, and Vinny developed Diabetes and there were no treatments that were working and Vinny was basically dying a horrible slow death.  So the guy goes to sleep one night and wakes up and starts writing down ingredients, and he goes out and gets those ingredients, mixes them up, feeds them to the dog, and the dog became his old self and lived another 5 years or something.  So now the guy makes dog treats called Dia-Treaties (get it?) for dogs with Diabetes.  My mom wants me to eat these.  She got so excited about them, she called the man and interrogated him (to his credit, he is extremely nice and sincere), and he said they want to try it on humans.  It is still being tested for the FDA, but in the meantime, my mom literally wants to buy these dog treats and have me eat them.  So this is the e-mail I sent to the guy to at least find out what ingredients are in the dog treats.

“Hi there,

My mom would like me to eat your dog treats. I am a Juvenile Diabetic (for 22 years) and am on an insulin pump, completely insulin dependent. I am extremely wary of any supplements or “natural remedies” because my pancreas is a nonfunctioning organ and I do not believe there is any natural cure for Type 1 Diabetes. My mom is very excited and hopeful about your product, and talked to Kameron on the phone, but I am still skeptical.

Could you send me a list of the ingredients and are you actually testing this product on humans?

Thank you,
Darcy”

Also, my mom left the oven on…again…and when she got home my dad said “I figured it would be alright if I turned the oven off”.  My mom said “Shut up and go upstairs”.  My dad said “No really, I thought it would be ok”.  My mom said “Hold the railing and go up the stairs, leave me alone”.  My dad said “Ok, but when we get a new oven you are going to….” and my mom said “I know, Kenneth, hold the railing and go upstairs to bed”.  My dad said “But you don’t understand, when we get the new oven, I won’t know if it’s on or not because….” and my mom said “Goodnight Ken, hold the railing and go upstairs”

This video is the end of that conversation, my mom’s voice is coming from the living room.

I am about to update the quotes section, so go check that out, too, before you leave.

Oh and I went Rock Hunting again this past weekend in the Out Of Doors and was significantly less successful than the first time and also the next day my calves would not work.  It hurt tremendously.  That did not happen the first time.

Sometimes I accidentally see news and I hate that because I spend weeks dwelling on whatever I saw and right now I am dwelling on an elephant who was treated horribly and then he was rescued and he cried and it made me cry because I am happy he was rescued but there are so many animals who are in horrible situations and they are sad and scared and it makes my heart hurt and it makes me panic and I cannot save all the animals and I need to because it is all I think about and it is really just horrible and I cannot stand it that I cannot save all the animals.  And even worse, I hate the people who treat animals badly.  I am a nonviolent person but the things I would do to people who mistreat animals in any way – I would be able to.  I could summon up that violence and make them suffer.  FIFTY YEARS this poor elephant was tortured.  Here is the link.  I mean, I suppose it is a happy story because he is rescued and being treated fantastically, but all I can dwell on is all the sad animals in the world.