Trying Times

I had a rough few days. My insulin once again stopped working well. The 70/30 bottle had precipitated while I was still in the other hotel room. I had tried keeping it in the fridge, and maybe the fridge was too cold, and the bottle froze. From one day to the next everything was precipitated, and it was very obvious. So, I switched over to the bottle of R that I had bought at the same time. It worked for a little while, but 1 week later, it began to fail. Yesterday, I was injected almost 2 and a half times my normal dose several times a day, and although still able to normalize my blood sugar with the old insulin, there were times when my blood sugar crept up well around 500.

I had been sleeping in my truck the last few days, and my cell phone had disappeared. , after a conversation with one of my friend about it being hacked. My friend had taken down its new number, writing it on her chalkboard where the name Mohammed used to be. The police had shown up on her doorstep one minute after I left following a complaint about the dogs being out in the truck.

So, without a phone, and pretty miserable by now, I try to visit another friend who basically lived in a neighborhood where I was terrified of losing my dogs. I kept them with me at all times, and eventually left after seeing her for a few minutes. She was busy. So, at this point, I went back to the area where my friend lived and looked for a hotel room at a reasonable rate to clean up. IT was all the money that I had, but after trying 15 hotels, and being told no, I finally found one that took me at 5 am, charging me the weekend rate but giving me 1 and 1/3 days for $45. I took it. The staff all had tattoos. The location is a great one for the dogs in the sense that there is a big off-leash area alongside a river where they can play. I had visited the river here several times before (discovering this dog running spot), and accidently ended up at the hotel I had never noticed here. They don’t charge extra for dogs, which is probably the most important thing, but wifi isn’t free, and although there is AC, there is no micro or fridge.
My insulin had progressively gotten worse and by the time I was scheduled to move out, I was having significant numbness in my fingers and toes. It’s not that the insulin didn’t work at all, it just didn’t work right. With no internet at the hotel, I walk over to the McDonalds in the middle of a horrible storm, and send out an SOS for money to the hotel phone number. Several hours later, no reply and a blood sugar over 400. It’s a friday night. Everything by now is closed. I try to make a collect call, but it is refused. This time, I instead get a call back in the hotel room as I prepare to die a horrible and distressful death. It isn’t good news – we have a horrible fight over my need for money, but they agree to send $200. Nothing will be open until the next morning. As I approach the hotel lobby for phone numbers that were missing from the phone book in my room, a lady steps in front of me, I guess clearing the hotel of personnel. No one is there. She does ask if I am ok. I tell her no, that my medicine isn’t working – this is on camera at the lobby. I later ask her outside if she can help me to start my truck, and she said that it seemed stolen to her, and that I would need to show her DL and registration. OK. so she’s a cop – and probably a federal one at that. Eventually, she left, and the staff with tattoos came back and one of them helped to to start the truck so that I could drive over to the moneygram place to find out that they closed at 10. So, at this point, I return to the hotel room, and leave the engine running all night. The next morning again with a blood sugar that was way out of whack, I inject a megadose of bad insulin, and go drive to the pharmacy/moneygram place. This time, although the moneygram counter was closed, the lady behind the service center processed my request for funds. I got $200, and some of the money was immediately spent on:

2 vials of insulin 2@$24.88
1 pack of syringes $1.87
1 sticker to test my blood sugar $6.44

1 new phone with minutes $14.88
a dog leash $5 (my dogs were sharing 1)

As I photographed the women in the pharmacy, I was careful to respect Sharia law which in some cases does not allow women’s faces to be seen (much less photographed). So, with the new bottles (one 70/30 and one R), I opt for the 70/30 bottle given that I had subjected myself to a pretty massive dose of bad R that morning. A few hours later, everything worked, and I had a reaction.

I measured my blood pressure at 160/82. Someone paid $260 for me to stay the week at the motel.

Later this afternoon, I got the most incredible back pain. I can almost not move. But I got some aspirin for a buck, took one to titrate the effect, and it works. I might take 2 next time. It’s probably not a bad idea for me to be on it.

It’s really hard for me to write with my computer screen, but I still manage. I think I will try to write more now that I have some stability for a week. Basically, putting me up for a week, required picture id and credit card faxed, and my signature electronically copied at the hotel.

This system can make anyone suicidal, but I’m ok. This evening I tested my blood sugar at 279. I gave myself 6 units of R at 6:20 pm, and 22 units of 70/30. I’m waiting to feel low to eat. OK. A really gentle low at about 8:50. A power bar solved that problem.

On a more philosophical note, I can’t help but comment on the lack of a free market in the housing situation. It’s a racket. With the economy the way it is, one would think that someone who needs housing because they couldn’t make rent would not be forced to shell out $265 a week to stay in a room. In a free competitive market, one expects there to be a gradient of housing prices.

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