Meditation time

Some more meditation yesterday (with noticeably less core and quad strength because of the long bike ride the day before) and another bike ride around the NIH with the pups (38’40”) today.  It may be my worst time yet, as I mentally contemplate the construction of graves.

3 million type 1 diabetics in the US

an (underreported) annual expenditure of $13.9 billion dollars

yielding a reported average of just under $5000/year.

The reason I don’t believe these numbers is that for those under 18 years of age, the expenditure is reported to be just short of $10000/year.  It gets worse as one gets older.  Just about the time when one starts to get over the fear of injections (the fear of low blood sugars never really goes away), COMPLICATIONS rear their ugly head.  If one did live an average lifespan, it would end up being the cost of a pretty decent sized house in an expensive neighborhood over the course of one’s life.

A 2/3 chance of seeing 25 years with the disease if one was diagnosed before 1970.  Today the odds are better, but the disease is also more expensive.

I’m alternating between fury and depression.  The superposition on Saturday of the Jewish injunction to “keep the Sabbath holy”, that is not fight, not be angry, etc. with my coat disappearing with everything that I had in it.  Losing my insulin and ID, and having the receptionist at the local urgent care clinic tell me that she would need insurance documents faxed to her for me to get a refill for my long acting insulin (Lantus), in spite of the fact that they had all of the information in their system, sent all idea of the Sabbath out the window.  All they would have had to do is make the initial prescription refillable.  Once again, we are dealing with an obstructionist system that makes caring for myself (already hard enough) more difficult and improbable.

It is clear to me that no type I diabetic (or maybe not this one anyway) can ever keep that injunction under these circumstances.  I cannot find God in this.  I do not believe that everything is as it should be.  Unable to lash out at God, I lash out at those that obstruct my access to insulin.  I later sacrifice the cow and the kosher rules.  Not because I hate animals, but because I can’t handle the imposition of a restriction by someone who can’t feel my pain.

Although a woman, and endowed with the mental competence and strength to be a priest, I cannot be a vehicle for God under these conditions.  I cannot find God here.

No need to repeat the experiment.  I am not a saint.

My first Hebrew Psalm:  Psalm 13

The conclave to choose a new Pope began today.  The first day ended as expected with Black smoke.  A donation to Roman Catholic WomenPriests.  Women are every bit as qualified as men to be God’s vehicles, intellectually, morally, and through service.  If the church is facing a shortage of priests, look among women.  There are many capable ones.  The church will expand through this initiative.

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