I reset my alarm clock for an hour earlier today – I want to beat the sun. Waking up to sunshine always makes me feel behind.
I notice it’s a hell of a lot quieter at 5 am. The freeway doesn’t really get itself going until about 5:30. At this time, you can hear one car winding it’s way along for minutes – clacka, clacka, clacka – then passing by with a swish, then goooooooonnnnnne.
Biscuit’s diabetes has put us on a schedule, she needs to eat a good breakfast and have her insulin shot by 7 am, then again at 7 pm. We don’t do it at exactly that time, but we keep it within that 6:30 to 7 range. There’s also some strain on her liver and kidneys, so the doctor has prescribed a low-protein food – my husband, reading the ingredients on the bag, calls it “Captain Crunch.” It’s made mostly of corn and chicken fat, and one of the first five ingredients is sugar. That’s right, “sugar.” It’s only available through the vet and it’s (excuse me) fucking expensive. So we’ve been supplementing with our own food, and some “senior” diet stuff we bought at Northern Star Mills. The vet seems unaware at this point, the tests have been fine, and we just don’t say anything.
My husband gives her the shots at this point, but I’m getting there. I was shocked my husband could do it, he’s the guy who hit the floor when we took our baby to the hospital lab for those early tests. But he stepped right up to the insulin shots, does it just like a pro. I have promised to start doing it by the end of the month, so he doesn’t have to worry about it all the time.
This has become manageable because we had to take our own initiative, go online to get the needles and insulin, because the doctor was charging us a lot for those necessities. I don’t know how long we could have gone on paying their price for that stuff. We had to ask them to okay the prescription over the phone, and there was some sort of reluctance, delays – we tried to believe it was out of concern for the dog, but when they started scheduling her appointments farther and farther apart and forgetting to call us with test results we realized we’d been put on a back burner anyway. I won’t criticize – they are so busy down there, I think the receptionists are chained to the floor.
I realize, my husband and I don’t get any health care, aside from the annual visits to the dentist. I just had to deal with an infected finger – got something under my fingernail and it started to swell up and turn black, a little green spot next to the nail. I had to remember back to other incidents for which I or a family member went to the doctor. My kid had a similar problem when he was about six years old, we thought it over and tried to remember everything Davin had told us to do. Davin Finn was our naturpath/homeopath. For years, we could depend on that guy, but he retired, and you won’t find anybody as devoted nowadays.
But Davin taught us a lot. I always keep a bottle of French green clay, which is good for making a poultice for drawing out gunk from a pimple or a wound. I soaked my finger in hot water with salt and goldenseal, and then I applied a poultice made of clay and goldenseal. It hurt for days, I could feel my heart beating in that finger in the middle of the night. It was under my fingernail, I thought I would lose that nail for sure. When the puss finally drew itself out, I cut it with a fresh razor blade from my husband’s tool box. I’ve had to do this before, at least this time the affected finger was on my left hand. BOOM! SPLAT! It was over and I was wiping puss off the bathroom mirror.
Oh what a relief it was!
After the wound was open, no more poultice, but I still soaked it and then I wrapped it in a paper towel and applied a heating pad about four times a day. This drew out the rest of the gunk and dried out the wound. Today it’s a big dry blister, the skin is all dead around it and will soon flake off. I can use it pretty normally again after walking around the house holding it in my other hand for the past week.
Today I will make the first loaf of bread in over a week. We’ve been surviving on Dave’s Killer Bread. Which is, I must admit, killer. The price, unfortunately, is also a killer – five bucks a loaf, we can’t do that for long either. But it’s five bucks well spent, I will also say.
Life has been out of kilter for a couple of months around here. My husband and I have been really busy, and basic things about our lives have been changing dramatically. We look to each other and our kids and dogs for some sort of peaceful sea. It’s good to have a family.