Desert Sand Mica

Whatever, just crash it Bob...

5.17.2003

It pisses me off so much that there is no standardized health care in America. I have not had diabetic supplies or the daily meds I was taking for 8 months, and yet I can tell by the way I feel sometimes that I am having blood sugar problems. Sometimes it's alarming. Sometimes it's just annoying.

I had a wound recently (I don't want to discuss it), but it was a serious wound for over 9 weeks. It was smaller than a dime, but it debilitated me to the couch and to bed for 4 or 5 days sporadically over the 9 weeks, in pain so severe I couldn't walk. It was small, but just wouldn't heal. Typical for a diabetic. It was painful every single day. No one could even brush against me in that area or I would cringe in pain. I went through boxes of bandaids. I used the best antibiotic ointment I could buy, cleaned it and changed the bandaid every day.
For 9 fucking weeks.
I didn't mention it here because..well..just because.

I cut myself pretty severely today, at the Spyderco sale. Idiot. I know how damn sharp they are, believe me. I used to sharpen them myself when I worked there. But one slipped a little and I got a pretty nasty cut on my finger. I started to get upset, Mark thought because it was just hurting and bleeding so bad, but I was upset cause all I kept thinking was.."God..what if this doesn't heal?"

And heaven forbid I should injure my feet. They'll just lop one of those off at Denver General and send me on my way with some extra socks stuffed in my shoe.

I was turned down for Medicaid, without a reasonable explanation. (Oh, believe me, I asked.) The American Diabetes Assn. can't or won't help me because I'm not elderly. 15 more years tho, and I'm golden. My county health department only has free care for well adults. Now doesn't that make sense! They probably had a meeting to decide how to cut health care costs. "I know, lets only provide care to people who aren't sick. Yea, that's the ticket."

My old doctor won't even call me in a prescription for a rash that I develop periodically due to the diabetes. It's a refill for a cream, that's all. It's not Percocet or crack cocaine, for God's sakes. But no, he wants to see me. Well, darlin, I don't have any health insurance and a doctor visit would cost me $93. Then you'd give me the same Rx anyway, which I would go fill at full price. Gah. I can no where near afford a $93 Dr. visit, plus $35 for the cream. Sheesh. That's two weeks of groceries, folks.

I need a girlie exam, a mammogram and probably a host of other things.

What? Get a job? I have a job. There is not a "employed outside the home" adult in this household yet we make enough to survive, and a little bit more. We are working. We aren't sitting on our ass whining about being laid off. We got handed lemons. We certainly made lemonade.

That's all for now. Just my whining and ranting about how I wish I could control this disease and not sit back and watch as it wrecks through my body at will. Most diabetics die from some compication from their disease, eventually. I would just like to be able to live with it for a while.

Pass the Nutrasweet. And stay the hell away from my feet.

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