diabetes is beating us

One month of my dearest husbeast’s diabetes meds is $609.14.
His insurance will pay for it entirely once we’ve met our $4,000 deductible but what about until then? We have a flex spending account which is entirely spent now,mostly on meds, a mere three months into the year.
This was a med his insurance didn’t cover at all until recently (it’s Trulicity). His doctor’s office supplied the injection pens via “samples” until it would. I am confident they will help if we can’t afford them next month (and until that deductible is met). I also still have Taxmas money I stashed in savings just in case.
What about people who don’t have that assurance and resources? Our medical expenses are nothing compared to some people struggling with this backwards bananas healthcare crisis. I’m fucking worried, America. We’re not ok. This isn’t ok. None of it.

Also, this week I needed new glasses and our insurance covers nothing eye related. . Not even the eye exam. Hello, insurance companies? My eyes are a part of my body and they need glasses to pretty much do every damn thing necessary to get through the day. $729 for glasses. Lucky me it was my birthday earlier this month and my mom paid for part of the glasses.
[sidenote: I could write another 600 words on how extraordinary it was that my mom gave me money for anything. This has never happened before to my recollection. Like…nearly homeless, no money for groceries,electricity shut off … those times when I could have used some mom-money? Nope. She must really like the idea of me being able to see clearly. I just don’t know]

Yeah, this was an expensive week.




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the diabetes situation

I lay in bed this morning listening to my husband get ready for work. I heard him take a pill bottle down from the top of the fridge, open the cap. The pills skitter down the plastic amber cylinder.  He pops the top back on, replaces the bottle to it’s home. The process repeats three more times. Then a few seconds later I hear the beep of his glucose meter reading off his morning number. He walks in to where I’m sleep-waking, leans down and whispers, “190”.  Not surprising after goulash dinner the night before but not as bad as it has been some days.

He came home from another diabetic counseling session about two weeks ago. He hands me various papers that he was specifically told to give to his wife when he gets home, like he’s a child who needs to hand over papers to Mommy when he gets home from school. Would they do that to me if I was the diabetic? Take these home to your husband. Highly unlikely.
“No more pasta at all”, he says. He says other things about food that I couldn’t even hear right then. I flipped out and threw the papers everywhere, yelling, “Are they going to pay our grocery bill now so that can happen?” If  only I could swipe our insurance card at the register.

Later I picked all the papers up and tossed them into the woodstove, feeding them to the fire. I know what they all say anyway. Knowing what they say and making it happen on the Cheap Carb Grocery Budget are two incompatible things that aren’t going to get married anytime soon.

 

 

 

Image result for diabetes funny

a little update on life stuff

It’s beginning to look a lot like Taxmas. My favorite holiday.  We filed our income taxes and should get our moolah back around the end of the month. This is a huge relief and again, we wouldn’t have made it through this month without the help of donations. It still irks me that a utility company and landlord can’t wait 3 weeks for their money. It’s just three weeks. Come on.

I’m currently making the list of things to throw money at (the car right now is #1) and formulating a strategy to make the most of all the monies , preferably in such a way that lends to some resemblance of economic stability. I’ll let you know how that turns out. Meh.

My husband is having a hard time managing his diabetes lately. He had to go to diabetic counseling this week and lemme tell you, I am not at all pleased with anything  he came out of that appointment with. He handed me all the literature because as the person who cooks the meals, this is now my responsibility.”Give this to your wife”
I remember this well from when my Grandpa had diabetes and it fell on my Grandma to be the person in charge of his illness.  One detail diabetic counselors and doctors seem to miss here is that I can plan and cook our meals right but that doesn’t mean he’ll exercise self-control over portion sizes or follow advice on exercise or not basically sneak food when he’s not home.
Are female diabetic patients told to hand over all their dietary instructions to their husbands?

When he was diagnosed years ago, I took it upon myself to research the way he should be eating. I adjusted how we eat accordingly. When things are good financially, I’m able to buy better food. When the grocery budget is scarce, I still do ok but not great  as far as making sure it fits what he should eat. He has problems no matter how I cook because *see above last paragraph*

And also,also,also….they suggested not just specific food but products/brands that he should eat. They’re really expensive. Surprise! No, not at all a surprise. Nope.

Healthcare reform should allow food to be covered by your insurance plan, ok? Write that in the replacement.

Other than THAT, everything else is ok. I mean, I still hate winter but besides that.

A few people asked about this picture of forsythia I posted on Instagram last week. Here’s how I did it:
1. Cut forsythia branches.
2. Brought them inside and stuck them in water.

That’s it. Originally when I learned to do this eons ago, I was taught to hammer the ends of the branches before putting them in water but I really don’t know why. This is the third time I’ve “forced” them without hammering  and they’ve still bloomed fine.

I think I might go wade through the snow to get some lilac branches this weekend. The touch of Spring does help me deal with the winter blahs a little bit.

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Whenever I say I “forced them to bloom” , my husband cracks a 50 Shades of Greener joke. He’s hilarious.

Oh,hey…the Song of the Day

“Blossom” by Nick Drake. I can’t think of any other music other than Nick Drake’s that has the unique ability to fit gray, gloomy, melancholy days while also being blue mood lifting.

 

Songs for Social Justice: Bullets for breakfast and mass murder meals. Enemy of the state, and your plate is the battlefield

On my regular ol’ blog, I post often about music. I apply music to life and think of it as making up a soundtrack to my own life and the world’s consciousness. It would seem strange if I didn’t carry the music over to this blog, so once in a while, I’ll share some songs that apply to social justice.

This starts off with Vandana Shiva talking…

Once they have established the norm —

that seed can be owned as their property —

royalties can be collected.

We will depend on them

for every seed we grow

of every crop we grow.

If they control seed, they control food, they know it; it’s strategic.

It’s more powerful than bombs.

It’s more powerful than guns.

This is the best way to control the populations of the world.”

“Food Fight” by Earth Amplified is a lyrical commentary on life in an urban food desert  and the role the corporations and the government have in it.  But more than that, it’s about how food is used to further oppressed those who are already economically oppressed.
In the video for “Food Fight”, we follow  a kid on a journey through his homicidal food reality. The local corner store is killing his neighborhood — literally. From a Morpheus-like guide, he learns the reality behind the food he’s buying, and must decide to take the Orange Carrot Pill or the Red Bull Pill..

Lyrics:
That’s what the streets them say.

That’s what police them say.

That’s what the Babylon say.

Put cola upon lips

and get popped the same way now.

That’s what The Pentagon say.

That’s what the generals say.

That’s what the empire say.

Put death down your throat,

you get dropped the same way.

SEASUNZ:

There’s a war going on inside,

no man is safe from:

DDTs, PCBs,

every corner in the hood got a KFC

or McD’s. It’s crack speed like RED

Bull-ish they pulpit — so caffeine,

Kit Kat like a click-clack holes in your genes

Cuz everything at market ain’t all what it seems.

Little Debbie bussing biscuits at sugar-high fiends.

Ain’t nothing but a G thing —

GMO, MSG, genocide of street gangs.

Aspartame or street cane.

Monsanto is Rambo.

Round Up with ammo.

Who would have known you can die from a diet

Diabetes and the -itis from the dairy and the dose

of the high fructose

cuz your ribs too close

so you might start a riot.

Might be a FOOD FIGHTER!

CHORUS REPEATED

SEASUNZ:

They shootin’!

Made you look

at the labels on the food that you cook.

Just say no to cocoa box

cuz when you Google the ingredients, you might get got.

Is your milk on drugs? Cuz your brain on Fox.

Factory farming spawning the Meatrix plot,

Globally warming us all, enough cows and NOx

driving the climate, driving a hummer or not.

Drive-in like a drive-by.

E.coli served super sized with a side of super lies.

so tell me what’s more gangsta than that?

Bullets or burgers both blaze burners to black.

Breakfast is a little like Texas,

Petro is everything that you’re eating on

My pesto is backyard like choppin’ chard.

My school lunch pack a punch.

FOOD FIGHT IS ON!

CHORUS REPEATED

STIC.MAN:

What’s Beef?

Beef is when you’re 12 years old and obese

clogged arteries, can’t see your own feet

until you’re up in ICU, guaranteed to be an ‘I see you”

From that processed food.

Suicide. It’s a suicide.

Don’t want no microwaves, no pesticides.

Fast food’s a slow death in disguise.

It’s the wild wild westernized world of deception and lies.

What’s Beef?

Beef is when you starve in a famine.

Nothing won’t grow and the land stays barren.

Pollution in the river, mercury in the salmon.

What sense do it make, being at war with the planet?

We’re at war for the mind so impressionable.

Instead of vegetables,

we reach for Red Bulls.

Poor diets kill more brothers than pistols.

We’re fighting for our lives like Michael Vic’s pit bulls.

Dog eat dog, America eats the young,

We die from beef, but more from meat than the gun.

Bullets for breakfast and mass murder meals.

Enemy of the state, and your plate is the battlefield

in this FOOD FIGHT!

For educators, there is a curriculum download: FOOD FIGHT: EMPOWERING YOUNG SOLUTIONARIES TO CO-CREATE A HEALTHY FOOD SYSTEM
SoS Juice