The doctor visit today went about as well as could be expected. Dr. Langille bumped the dosages of Cozaar, glipizide, and metformin up a tad; we'll see how that affects my blood sugar levels. She finds my loss of eight pounds since the last visit encouraging (as do I) and expects more of the same (ditto). In the meantime, my liver and kidneys are apparently holding up well, and I don't need to go on any cholesterol meds since my HDL and LDL are within reasonable limits. I will be going back for another round of diabetes information classes, seeing a dietician, and having a GI specialist render a second opinion on the liver & kidneys. So, no needle yet, and no prospect of it for at least the next month while we see how the glucose and weight progress - hopefully in a downward direction.
Stayed up far too late last night after getting stuck into Harry Turtledove's Homeward Bound, the capstone of his "Worldwar" and "Colonization" series about a race of lizard-like aliens who invade Earth expecting to encounter medieval knights but instead arrive during the middle of World War II. By the time Homeward Bound starts, World War II is long over, the aliens are fairly well dug into the tropical regions of Earth, and the colonization fleet has arrived to find their future home far from pacified. There's also a continuing plot thread concerning the aliens' sensitivity to ginger, which gets them high and puts them "in heat" at inconvenient/embarrassing times other than their normal mating season. Anyhow, the US has mastered the alien cold-sleep technology and sends a slowboat to Home to try and persuade the alien empire to deal with humans as equals instead of troublesome potential subjects, and the novel begins with baseball player-turned-xenodiplomat Sam Yeager being strongly encouraged to go into cold sleep and travel to Home as pat of the first American embassy. I don't know why it took so long for the parallels to Christopher Anvil's Pandora's Planet to sink in, but Turtledove's series is much darker than Anvil's stories about the Centrans and John Towers' Special Effects Team. At least in this book there aren't five hundred characters crowding the stage and cluttering up the book with their own subplots, which was a major problem with the "Worldwar" series.
Work was pretty busy, as expected, but since the morning was eaten by medical stuff there was only five hours of it. Tomorrow'll be longer and busier, I'm sure.