April 27th, 2006

dead wombat

It's so easy

I was going to do a depressing little essay on just how easy it is to kill yourself through neglect, as opposed to the relative difficulty of committing suicide right here right now, but nobody needs that kind of crap, especially on a bright, sunny day like this. This is the kind of day that's much more suitable for driving out into the country, finding a big ol' park or state forest with a big open grassy area, and then lying down to watch the cumuli scud across the impossibly blue heavens.

However, since I have to help unload a truck tonight after I get off work, it's back to the essay on death. No, just kidding. In all seriousness, today's visit to the vein specialist reminded me that I do need to get on the stick and start taking care of the rather boring and mundane aspects of living with diabetes and specifically with the problems caused by lymphedema. Support stockings must be worn on a daily basis, weight must be lost, exercise must be increased, and the open wounds on my legs have to be treated properly so they actually heal as opposed to becoming scabby landing zones for future bacterial invasions. Mother Nature is trying to kill me, and the old bitch is both insidious and patient; merely swallowing my meds twice a day will not be nearly enough.

So, once again, I know what I have to do. This time I need to prioritize my life so I can get those things done and stave off the amputation of my legs as long as possible. Sometime in the next 15-20 years, it's possible that biotech or nanotech will come up with a means of repairing the damage I've already done here, but first I have to make sure I live that long.