Psychics, Diabetes, and the ER
Oct 16, 2015 19:44:32 GMT -6
Nugget, Mystic Wanderer, and 3 more like this
Post by Charles1952 on Oct 16, 2015 19:44:32 GMT -6
I spent five hours today accompanying a very good friend who was in the ER. I was there from about Noon to 5:30.
She was in the ER because she had received a call from her main doctor, a General Practitioner or whatever they're called today. The doctor had just received the results of a lab test done on some of her blood. Apparently, blood sugar is like golf, you're looking for a low score. This confuses me, because various theories of evolution tell me that our bodies are changing so as to make great progress in the Universal elimination tournament. If that's so, and we're not supposed to have a lot of sugar in our blood, why is sugar so scrumptious? It seems as though Mother nature has decided to put rat poison in the Kool-aid, fooling her children into consuming huge amounts of what's bad for them. maybe that's what "Drinking the Kool-aid" really means.
I don't know how to pick the probable winners in the Sugar Super Bowl, but I have been informed by reputable medical sources that when your sugar count gets to 708, it's time to call a time out and look for a new selection of plays.
In the ER, she was given five (or was it six?) bags of that saline solution that the medical world loves so well, and in her honor they through in a shot or two of insulin in every bag. You can imagine that she was bored, especially when she learned that the shipment of remote controls for the patient room TVs hadn't arrived yet and she was facing hours and hours with only me for company. But she was polite about it, and didn't scream at me once.
After her third trip to the bathroom (Hey, that saline has to come out somewhere.) She was lying in the bed, barely awake, and said to me "Think of a number between 1 and 100." Not only was she tired, but apparently the saline was affecting her brain. She repeated herself when I asked what she was talking about. I didn't want to get involved in that game, since I knew I couldn't pick 69, and who knows what meanings had been assigned to other numbers.
But I thought about it for a moment and realized that it was either play along or read the magazines in the room. They were Good Housekeeping, House Beautiful, and Glamour. I stalled for a moment, pretending that I had a choice, then she said "Oh, come on. If you pick three numbers, I won't ask you to pick anymore." I saw that as a pretty easy escape, decided I'd play along, then thought about my choices. Of course, the first number that came to me was 42. Isn't that everybody's first choice? But it didn't feel right, so I said 47. I remembered I had to come up with two more, so I added 82 and 19.
She said "That's it." I had no clue what she was talking about and informed her of that fact. "Forty-seven" she said, "The first number you picked. that was the number. That was the one I picked, It seemed like a fun number." My first thought, obviously, was that only a girl could think a number was "fun." Then it dawned on me. We picked the same number? Between 1 and 100? That shouldn't happen. The math experts tell me that only happens by accident one time in, well, it doesn't happen very often.
So, just chance? Boredom giving our brains nothing else to do? A side effect of diabetes? Something in the beeping and dinging medical equipment? Should I buy a lottery ticket? Am I vibrating in phase with a different universe (or is she?) I could use a guide here.
She was in the ER because she had received a call from her main doctor, a General Practitioner or whatever they're called today. The doctor had just received the results of a lab test done on some of her blood. Apparently, blood sugar is like golf, you're looking for a low score. This confuses me, because various theories of evolution tell me that our bodies are changing so as to make great progress in the Universal elimination tournament. If that's so, and we're not supposed to have a lot of sugar in our blood, why is sugar so scrumptious? It seems as though Mother nature has decided to put rat poison in the Kool-aid, fooling her children into consuming huge amounts of what's bad for them. maybe that's what "Drinking the Kool-aid" really means.
I don't know how to pick the probable winners in the Sugar Super Bowl, but I have been informed by reputable medical sources that when your sugar count gets to 708, it's time to call a time out and look for a new selection of plays.
In the ER, she was given five (or was it six?) bags of that saline solution that the medical world loves so well, and in her honor they through in a shot or two of insulin in every bag. You can imagine that she was bored, especially when she learned that the shipment of remote controls for the patient room TVs hadn't arrived yet and she was facing hours and hours with only me for company. But she was polite about it, and didn't scream at me once.
After her third trip to the bathroom (Hey, that saline has to come out somewhere.) She was lying in the bed, barely awake, and said to me "Think of a number between 1 and 100." Not only was she tired, but apparently the saline was affecting her brain. She repeated herself when I asked what she was talking about. I didn't want to get involved in that game, since I knew I couldn't pick 69, and who knows what meanings had been assigned to other numbers.
But I thought about it for a moment and realized that it was either play along or read the magazines in the room. They were Good Housekeeping, House Beautiful, and Glamour. I stalled for a moment, pretending that I had a choice, then she said "Oh, come on. If you pick three numbers, I won't ask you to pick anymore." I saw that as a pretty easy escape, decided I'd play along, then thought about my choices. Of course, the first number that came to me was 42. Isn't that everybody's first choice? But it didn't feel right, so I said 47. I remembered I had to come up with two more, so I added 82 and 19.
She said "That's it." I had no clue what she was talking about and informed her of that fact. "Forty-seven" she said, "The first number you picked. that was the number. That was the one I picked, It seemed like a fun number." My first thought, obviously, was that only a girl could think a number was "fun." Then it dawned on me. We picked the same number? Between 1 and 100? That shouldn't happen. The math experts tell me that only happens by accident one time in, well, it doesn't happen very often.
So, just chance? Boredom giving our brains nothing else to do? A side effect of diabetes? Something in the beeping and dinging medical equipment? Should I buy a lottery ticket? Am I vibrating in phase with a different universe (or is she?) I could use a guide here.
I hope she feels better soon.
