This is one of those mornings that I’m out of whack. I feel like hitting somebody. I’m grouchy and ill. I’m just glad my wife is still asleep. I certainly don’t feel like hearing her cheery, “Good morning.” I’d snarl at her and snap back something ugly.
At least I can write and purge my feelings somewhat. It always helps me to write especially at times like this.
I had a perfectly horrible night trying to sleep. The key word here is HORRIBLE. She was already in LaLa land when I went to bed at 10 o’clock. I laid down with her. It didn’t take but seconds before the TERRIBLE restless leg hit me. The word here is terrible.
I sleep with a CPAP machine which is supposed to cure restless leg. Most of the time it works. But, last night? No way.
So, I got up after spouting off a few choice words to her in answer to her innocent question after she awoke when I got up. “Where ya going?” .
Grrr. “I’m going to the other bedroom. Can’t you see that?!”
She didn’t deserve my caustic sarcasm. No one does. But, I blasted her with both barrels. Geeze. So, to the other bedroom I went. I tried to relax, but my heart rate sped up from 100 miles an hour to warp speed. I tried thinking pleasant thoughts, but that was a joke. I tried counting sheep, but I shot all of them. Nothing worked.
I tossed and turned in mad misery. I watched the clock hit 11:00 and then midnight. I got up and went to the man cave hoping the Braves game was still on. They were playing at San Diego which is on the other side of the moon as far as I am concerned. But, they had finished the game and “Braves Live” was on with Bryan Jordan. To further my grimy mood, the Braves lost! I tried to watch the show, but all they showed was Padres’ highlights because there were no highlights from the Braves sorry performance. Grrr.
Disgusted, I ate a peanut butter on Graham crackers and drank some milk and went back to bed at 12:30am. Eating something when I can’t sleep usually helps me drift off to a decent night’s sleep. But, it didn’t help. More tossing and turning and clock watching.
I took my blood sugar because I was really thirsty. High blood sugar makes me very thirsty. It was 186 which is high. I drank a glass of water and bolused a couple of units of insulin to cover my midnight snack. The 186 made me mad too.
I did finally drift off to a fitful sleep around 1am.
Then at 2am, I had to get rid of that water. Up again. Back to bed again. Restless sleep again.
I woke up having to go again. I looked at the clock hoping to see 5am. Nope. 3:30.
What’s the use? I got up, made a cup of coffee, and came out here to vent by writing. Of course, when I got up to make coffee, Sophie, my ever vigilant watchdog Sheltie cuts loose ferociously barking thinking I’m a prowler or something. She wakes Joyce who I was trying my best not to disturb. Ugh.
I took my blood sugar again after I got up. 230! It had gone up more. So much for trying to cover my peanut butter, cracker, and milk with a couple of units of insulin.
I also weighed. The scale showed 233,9. You might as well say 240. More anger. I’ve been trying so hard to lose weight. I mean really hard. I’m up 10 pounds from just three mornings ago. At this rate, I’ll hit 300 by Labor Day.
I’m going backwards. I was so proud of 230 and had visions of 220 by Labor Day. That would put me out of the obese category to merely the overweight category.
I’m out of whack.
I can make excuses. My nephew’s 15th birthday party was Tuesday night. I did have the will power to turn down the birthday cake. But, Joyce told me my brother loaded the steaks with Lawton’s Seasoned Salt and had a beer which is a sure fire way for me to retain water which shows up on the scale.
Then, my grandson’s birthday celebration was Wednesday night. They rolled in from Dothan, Alabama, Monday night. He wanted to go to Pablanos, our favorite Mexican restaurant. I vowed to eat healthy. But, that’s like trying not to eat fried chicken at a church covered-dish dinner.
Since Joyce and I have gone pretty much salt-free for sometime now, I tasted salt, a lot of salt, in the salsa, cheese dip, and chips. That was news to me. I never noticed the salt in salsa and cheese dip before. But, they are loaded with it.
We ordered chicken flautas and split the order between us. More salt. I washed it down with a small Marguerita (no salt around the rim), but those drinks are loaded with salt too.
It’s no wonder then that I’m swelled-up like a toad frog and out of whack.
I can make excuses, but I have no one to blame but myself. My will power melted like butter on a hot summer day.
The kids left yesterday. We had a great time. They love our pool, and Joyce had the water perfect. It takes a lot of maintenance and chemical balance to have a pool clear enough so that you can read the newspaper off the bottom. She is one tremendous wife. I am fortunate and most blessed.
We went to Publix last night to stock up on healthy food. We don’t expect the kids to eat what we eat. They are raised today fast food so Joyce prepared spaghetti home made seasoned meat balls with no salt. They were delicious. She fixed hot dogs and hamburgers on white, bleached flour buns. That’s something we don’t eat any more either. We’ve eliminated white bleached bread products from our diet, but we ate it with them.
At Publix, they had a lady who had made a hamburger cheese casserole dish for sampling. We got a sample. That was our supper.
Joyce said last night that it’s back to juicing and eating healthy small meals. Later, this morning, we will get back on the track walking two miles provided it quits raining. We’ve swam and played with the grandchildren in the pool, but we haven’t walked this week.
I’m just wondering how long it’s going to take my out of whack body back on track! Soon, I hope.
I can’t stand another night like this one!