Jimi's got the 'betes, as I'd suspected. He's got a list of medications he'll be on for the foreseeable future, until he's got his blood sugar back down to a normal level, and he's been put on a low-calorie diet and ordered to exercise regularly. He's set a weight-loss goal that's both bold and attainable. The goal is for him to not be diabetic in a year or two.
Honestly? I knew this was coming. He's not felt good for a year - I knew. Honestly, I'd expected it to be worse. I'm freaked out and scared that reality has come to call, but at the same time, I'm relieved. It could be so much worse.
It can always be worse. Unless it's as bad as it gets, of course, but in that case it can only get better. I'll forever be an optimist.
Speaking of optimism - my bonus was more than I'd dared to consider hoping for. I've gone from wondering how exactly I was going to manage to pay the mortgage (which was due on the 1st, by the way) and the water bill (due yesterday) with this week's pay, to having a balance in my savings that the account has never seen before - and that's after leaving spending money, mortgage money, and water bill money in checking. There will be enough for the few new items of clothing I've been needing but couldn't afford, maybe a massage that I'm so desperate for, and that $600 I owe the IRS this year? I can pay that too. And even after that, maybe I'll get to take an actual vacation this summer - one where we fly on an airplane to some tropical location far removed from prying eyes or the need for clothes...or Washington, D.C. - whatever; still a vacation, either way. Or I can just leave it all sitting there and enjoy looking at that number and know that if an emergency comes up, I'll be okay for a few weeks.
It sort of makes me uncomfortable to write that much detail about my finances, and I hope you read it and thought "Thank goodness my finances aren't so dire" and not "That effing biotch, listen to her brag about her bonus!". Money is one of the suckiest facts of life, and I say that as someone who has always had enough. I'm not rich, my family isn't rich, but I've never gone without a meal; my basic needs have always been met, and there has always been at least a little something left over. I'm ridiculously fortunate, but I understand it is not that way for everyone, and recording this moment for what it is for me is the goal, not bragging.
Jimi's brother is over tonight for an evening that will include dinner and who knows what else. Probably the brothers jamming on their guitars in the next room while I internet or read that Stephen King book with which I'm enthralled these days. Or maybe Stacy and Jessie will stop in to hang out for a bit. Just another happy, content Friday night. My favorite sort.
What a difference a day makes.
I'm scared for my man, but I'm hopeful, too. I'm worried, but I'm not going to vocalize that too much - I want to be the voice of encouragement for him, not the one saying "What if you don't..." or "You have to do this or...". He's a grown man, and all I can do is love him and support him and encourage him - that whole vinegar/honey argument applies here.
On a similar note, last night Finnegan and I attended his first "Behavior Basics" training class hosted by the Kentucky Humane Society. The tips we learned were very helpful, but the lady teaching the class should stick with teaching animals, because she sucks at relating to people. I was pissed off when she criticized me for not bringing a rope-type lead and then proceeded to explain to the class, using my retractable leash as a prop, that retractable leashes are basically cruel and unusual and the equivalent of using shock collars/whips to train my dog. I nearly walked out of class when she heckled me for bringing treats to class in a ziplock bag rather than a cloth bag that hangs on my hip. And then, near the end of class, after I'd run out of treats and Finn was anxious to meet the pups across the room rather than touch my hand with his nose, that woman singled my dog out as one that was obviously in need of more rigorous "homework", and I decided I won't be going back to that class. I'll work on the weekly assigned "homework" with Finn, but Jimi's going to have to go to class. I'm afraid I'll get mouthy.
And now I have to go hang out with the men-folk because they say I'm being antisocial. Happy Friday, and I hope your weekend is full of sunshine, rainbows, kittens, puppies, and happy. :)
Jimi's brother is over tonight for an evening that will include dinner and who knows what else. Probably the brothers jamming on their guitars in the next room while I internet or read that Stephen King book with which I'm enthralled these days. Or maybe Stacy and Jessie will stop in to hang out for a bit. Just another happy, content Friday night. My favorite sort.
What a difference a day makes.
I'm scared for my man, but I'm hopeful, too. I'm worried, but I'm not going to vocalize that too much - I want to be the voice of encouragement for him, not the one saying "What if you don't..." or "You have to do this or...". He's a grown man, and all I can do is love him and support him and encourage him - that whole vinegar/honey argument applies here.
On a similar note, last night Finnegan and I attended his first "Behavior Basics" training class hosted by the Kentucky Humane Society. The tips we learned were very helpful, but the lady teaching the class should stick with teaching animals, because she sucks at relating to people. I was pissed off when she criticized me for not bringing a rope-type lead and then proceeded to explain to the class, using my retractable leash as a prop, that retractable leashes are basically cruel and unusual and the equivalent of using shock collars/whips to train my dog. I nearly walked out of class when she heckled me for bringing treats to class in a ziplock bag rather than a cloth bag that hangs on my hip. And then, near the end of class, after I'd run out of treats and Finn was anxious to meet the pups across the room rather than touch my hand with his nose, that woman singled my dog out as one that was obviously in need of more rigorous "homework", and I decided I won't be going back to that class. I'll work on the weekly assigned "homework" with Finn, but Jimi's going to have to go to class. I'm afraid I'll get mouthy.
And now I have to go hang out with the men-folk because they say I'm being antisocial. Happy Friday, and I hope your weekend is full of sunshine, rainbows, kittens, puppies, and happy. :)
I'm sorry to hear that Jimi has the 'betes. I have to say though that I would love to hear him say "diabeetus" just one time. :)
ReplyDeleteAnd yay on the bonus!