boy #2 @ 9:30pm: “hey, haven’t talked to you in awhile. what have you been doing?”
boy #3 @ 10:45pm: “happy new year kg. what are you wearing?” (straight and to the point, I appreciate it)
so if someone could please explain why these dudes have been nonexistent for the past couple months and then, on the same day, all decide strike up a conversation that I have no desire to partake in?! sorry boys I’ve grown up and am not falling for your sales pitch expressions of love. I am over you over you OVER YOU BYE
(besides #3 because lets be honest, I’ve been in love with him last fall —- and a laugh that makes you want to be funny just so you can hear it again oh fuck.)
it is 7:12 am on wednesday morning. I have been up since yesterday. closed last night at work and got home around 2:30 am which is pretty nice and then clearly I decided to go through all of my syllabi and write all my assignments in my planner and then just curl up under my covers and not sleep. what the fuck is that about.
I miss Athens and OU so much. I look back on it and want to go back, and I worry that I will do that in a few years when I look back on Boston and that makes me so sad but I have no idea what to do differently so I can look back and feel fine. I think that when I move to Chicago it will be like that, similar to Athens, just because so many of my friends will be in one concentrated area and that makes me feel calm. It’s like, I look back on OU and think that I could have tried harder but then I think that is something that I only know because I’ve grown up - that I was good enough for OU, that I was smart enough, that now I have the confidence that I really really really needed while at school - and as for now, in Boston, I’m not sure there is anything else I can be doing, and maybe that’s more validated than me at OU.
I have to be at work at 10:45 and won’t be done until 5:45. so sleeping would be preferable. I am assuming it’s the lithium and strattera and wellbutrin keeping me up. cocktail wooh. I hate taking them - now I’ve started psyching myself up about swallowing pills which should really be the least of my worries - but I get so depressed when I am not on them. I mean dangerously depressed, dark and sad and gone from normality. so I have to take them. and then the moodiness - what part of that is from being bipolar and what is from diabetes? tell me please. a lot of people disappointed me this past weekend and I was pretty morose while at work and a few people asked me if I was okay and it made me feel nice, that people weren’t tossing my feelings aside as a “bipolar thing” as they are often wont to do at PC, unfortunately. but I guess it ends there because it wasn’t as if I was comfortable enough with anyone to explain why I was sad, all I could do was smile and say “yeah I’m fine.” which I am, I guess comparatively speaking to when I’m been reaaaal bad, but I’m not fine, I think.
currently reading through my old posts and laughing about dec 2012 me talking about how moody I am and what’s going on with that, and then a month later getting diagnosed with bipolar disorder. womp womp womp. hashtag take yo lithium girl.
sometimes I try to remember who I was before I felt I should change to appease the many people in Boston who think I should because I’m “different” and now I can’t remember who that person was. which I don’t think is a good thing. rather I think it’s kind of upsetting and I’m a bit disappointed in myself.
if you want really sexual lips, slather them with FRESH Sugar lip treatment and then basically everyone will want to kiss you. I should know, as the last guy I made out with basically wouldn’t get his lips off me. I mean, he was also “coked out of his mind” but I like to think it was my extremely kissable self that got him worked up in a state, and not the cocaine.
I am not a city person. I like cities and love cities but I need to settle down in a cabin up north. There is pressure in cities that I don’t yet know how to avoid and I feel drained, so very drained. I am going location shopping soon, need to get a plan together.
my mom asked me if I’ve been writing lately. she’s never really done this before. she keeps saying I should start formulating a plot outline or just write write write. but then Sonya told me the same thing earlier this week. and it’s like where do I even start? I’m setting myself up for failure.
However. My psych has been helping me recognize my “racing” thoughts which I never thought I had and now I’m like oh fuck that’s what that’s been this whole time?? I thought I was just acting out melodramas in my fucking head. Whenever I do have these racing periods, I always start to feel anxious. It’s why I first prescribed xanax in the first place all those years ago. On Monday I was too lazy to get my pills so I tried to write out what I was thinking instead. It wasn’t as clear as I wanted it to be and it wasn’t as lyrical, but it was there. And it did help, it calmed me down at least. I think it would be good to start doing that - writing down the racing thoughts and then going back and editing them later. Some patterns might come up.
I’ve been reading a lot. I suddenly have confidence to go to bars by myself. I gave up sex and candy bars for Lent. I need a girl best friend here like stat like fucking yesterday. I’ve started a sociological experiment called why don’t boys my age like me and why is it that only people over the age of 27 talk to me at bars and find me interesting while I feel like I’m on a different planet than everyone my age? I asked Jeff for some insight on this issue and he seriously says “it’s your emo bangs, they’re intimidating” and then he said “you cut people off to quickly” and I said well that’s because unlike you, I have standards and I’m not going to start genuinely liking someone just because they show some sort of interest. but maybe my standards are to high.
yesterday while watching the pats/ravens game an acquaintance asked me what the point of publishing realistic fiction for teens was. “why should teens be reading depressing books about sensitive topics, they should all be happy. teens don’t need to read that.”
WELL I’m happy that your childhood was so hunky-dory but that is definitely NOT THE CASE for every child in america you ignorant twat. what’s the point? what’s the point?!? are you fucking kidding me? life happens and life isn’t always a good time. bad things happen to good people, good people do bad things. teenagers should read books they can connect with, that depict everyday life - both the good and the bad. shielding teenagers from realistic fiction is both an insult to their intelligence and a way to negate the emotional response a novel can produce. I was so shocked she said that. It was so snotty. It made me thankful for the millionth time that I never divulged any of my bad life parts to her. It’s this quintessential Ivy League thing. Sheltered life, sheltered college experience that seems to be the only topic of conversation, job at a great company - but what are you passionate about? What are your interests?
She referred to us as free spirits. She is not a free spirit at all. Straight-backed to the bone. And me?? I am definitely not a free spirit. Are you serious?? I’m doped up on anxiety meds how the fuck am I a free spirit.
in which Kendall reads the description of a novel for class and panic ensues
my professor has recommended that I read through reviews of all the books we’re going to read and let her know if there are certain novels I’ll have too much trouble with so she can provide a different title. I have trouble reading such realistic depictions about rape but I’ve been able to power through or give myself more time than usual to get through it because I know it will be hard. So I wasn’t entirely sure that I would take her up on that option.
Then I read the review of one of the novels we’re reading for next class. It’s about a rape that happens in Athens. It’s incestual, which has no relation to me, but rape nonetheless. THIS is hard - street names, geographical landmarks, local tidbits, only found in Athens. Lack of police help, only found in Athens. No one listening to you, only found in Athens. And then found in this book, that cuts too close, correlates too much, to the me that can only be found in Athens.
The heaviness before a panic attack is resonating through my body. My heart hurts. I want to get the panic attack over with but it’s dull, I know it’s not going to go away. I can’t talk about this relationship without crying. It’s easier to tell someone and then suddenly if I say I can’t read this book because of the setting, I’m choking out the word Athens.
I’ve been trying to work on my anticipatory anxiety but have no idea how I am going to get over this. I think I will try and set up a counseling session before class. Keep working on my breathing or whatever.
it’s morning #4 of a mood stabilizer induced sleep and I feel great. I’ve been sleeping on a normal schedule and I feel eerily calm. But not like other drug induced calms where you become really sleepy, just more slow I guess. I can focus much better. For the first time in months I was able to read a book straight through and retain the information; it was such a wonderful feeling. Drinking on it makes my heart pound and I had a triple espresso Thursday night & was entirely too over stimulated. I was so jittery. I start therapy in a week and a half which is good because feb 9 is coming and I don’t really know what is going to happen.
I went on a date with this guy on Thursday. We went to an improv show and then grabbed a couple drinks. He’s really nice, funny, into a lot of the same pop culture isms that I am. He’s a producer for a television show in the area and it’s really cool hearing about his job. He texted me all day yesterday and it made me go sour. I can’t do the whole texting convo through the whole day unless its like my bffs because otherwise I feel like people think that compensates for legitimate conversation, and it doesn’t. I would prefer if someone were to text me funny anecdotes or just to say hi, and then really talk when I’m with them.
Naturally I was recapping the whole thing with Elliot yesterday. I’m not a hugger (to which Elliot howled and said I know) but for going on casual dates, I kind of wish I was. Because I’m definitely not going to kiss the person (ooh am I having a change of heart) and the next thing would be hugging but that’s too close for me. I don’t like being touched by people. So the texting thing bothered me but then I could tell that he liked me and I don’t know why but that just makes me not want to pursue anything with them. I feel like I attract these adoring boys who put me on this pedestal and find me incredibly endearing but I am not the sort of person who should be revered. Like, at all. I take advantage of it as well and I’ve always been so used to getting my way and what I want that it’s actually fucking me over out here in the real world. This doesn’t make sense. It made sense when I was explaining it to Elliot. It’s just, I get away with everything - I’m always getting away with everything - and I guess I want to meet someone who will finally call me out on my shit and sit me down and say “stop pouting” “the world doesn’t revolve around you” “get over yourself” but then also have the emotional capacity to be sensitive when I’m in my deep deep depression. I feel some people try to do that with me - call me out on my shit - but when I go to them for support, it’s blown off or deemed not important enough or “minuscule” compared to what I do have, and it’s like, why? Why do people do that? The other day I texted Elliot being like oh beteedubs my doc thinks I’m bipolar and I’ve been out on mood stabilizers lololol and right away he called.
Mack was really good at that. Despite his faults he was really good, and probably the best, at dealing with me when I would call him crying or spend hours by myself in my room. I miss that sometimes and whenever I can feel my chest start clenching even harder than usual, I want to call him but I can’t.
The end of our conversation basically resulted in Elliot telling me that people don’t understand me because “passionate about literature and cuteness don’t often go hand in hand” and “when you meet people they meet the peppy Kendall, but you’re not always the peppy Kendall so you need to find someone who can deal with that” and finally “we have really good chemistry so we need to find a boy and girl best friend pair that also has really good chemistry and then date each other and hang out all the time.” Which is like the best idea ever. I’m all for Elliot trying to meet girls and everything but if they take away from my Elliot time I will become very jealous and conniving and evil.
Oh and then the bipolar thing. Yeah I don’t know what to think of that. On one side it’s like enough already! Then on the other, it would explain A LOT. Also, my mother’s assumption would be correct. I guess as I’ve gotten older I’ve realized how much of an affect my drastically changing moods have on my relationship with my family. They are always getting mad because they don’t know how I’m going to react and I will be so irrationally angry. It would be nice if this explained it - actually it would explain a lot of faults that I have with myself and am unsure how to change. I think, too, we can cross of chronic depression and panic disorder. So then it’s bipolar and anxiety, which is better than all 4.
news update: am unable to fully commit to my boycott of john green because the fault in our stars is on my contemporary realistic fiction list. we have been told to get over ourselves and leave our feelings at the door, which is kind of unfortunate because I was interested to see if anyone else in the class has heard about his casual racist remark and how they feel about it.
news update 2: I will go back to fully committing when the semester is over. So the last week in April ya’ll.
news update 3: I follow a lot of book blogs and ya know what I hate? When people quote lines from books they haven’t read. How can you understand the importance of a quote if you have no context in which to place it? You just like the pretty words, not the meaning. And you’re advertising to people that you have read the book which is lying which is not cool. Especially if your blog is strictly about books though maybe I’ll get crazy and have this apply to everyone and their mother.
where do men (boys?) get off thinking they can just hit on you whenever they want at any time of the day. I’ve spent years perfecting my saucy simmering anger and my glare and my “you’re incompetent grow a fucking brain” look and yet they are NOT deterred! just because I’m sitting over here air guitaring to smoke on the water, munching on my five guys burger and creeperily looking at the amazing 100+ option coke machine to figure out how to steal it DOES NOT MEAN I want to be hit on. More importantly, I’m obviously busy as fuck being weird as fuck, what in gods name do you want with me.
I would much prefer if I were reading a novel on the T or at a coffeeshop and a guy came up to me and was like hey I love that book wanna chat. Or like if I was blasting my current playlist of choice and a guy was like hey I love that cover of heart of glass, a bluegrass band is playing at a bar in Cambridge wanna go? BUT NO. THOSE MEN (BOYS?!?) DON’T EXIST EVIDENTLY.
and this has been a rant by Kendall as she eats her way through her anger at five guys, clearly negating her clean eating and guaranteeing an hour long run. GLUTEUS MAXIMUS.
today I slept and when I woke up I decided to go on a run. I can’t decide if I want to start training again, I probably will. Running the Athens half was really fun. I need new music to run too & I kept stopping to adjust my shorts or my headphones or to change the song and then I finally settled into the groove and ran ran ran for 45 minutes. I felt like I was back where I was in April, when I could run 7 minute miles easy peasy and spent my Sundays running loops around the Athens hills, doing laundry every couple days because I ran through sport bras too quickly and how pumped I was when I visited Leanne in Blacksburg and there was a sale on VT norts. And I fell back into thinking during the run, but not the bad thinking that started to permeate my thoughts in the spring of nightmares and unspoken words I would test out when I jogged - practicing how to say rape to the beat of the song of my feet of my fingers curled into themselves because it was always so cold. Coming home and jumping in the shower and I realize I miss that a bit, it was a really really shitty couple months but I had a lot of fun with nat and Kenz and Sonya and heids. and I guess today when I was absently thinking like I used too I realized that I can have those moments again and I will this spring. I liked being a runner, like that that was an adjective used to describe myself by other people. And I want to become a runner again, if only to clear my head and also get back to being tiny and looking hawt in Nike pro combat shorts ay papi.
in other news I just popped a xanax and am waiting to fall asleep by biting at my lips, which is a nervous habit of mine that I have never been able to break despite my penchant for purchasing ridiculously overpriced lip balms and goops and such
So, why are the funniest people the most depressed?
“Humor is a common defense mechanism. Some funny people like to make themselves and others laugh because it keeps them from crying. It distracts people from the real issues and pokes fun at things to minimize the impact. Albeit temporarily.”
I listen to the coleco remix of Florence and the machines cover of take care multiple times a day and now I’m back to where I was last year when I wanted someone to hurt me and then someone else to fall in love with me so this song would be relevant to my life which is a little fucked up. It always makes me laugh though because nat and I would play this all the time and one time when we were getting ready to go out she comes into my room and is all “do I look too ‘big girls all get a little taste’?” and I thought that was hilarious. Still do apparently. Also I like the “we’ll change the pace and just go slow” except instead of thinking sexual thoughts I imagine how this would look in text and it always appears like this: we’ll change the pace and just go sloOoOoOoOw. Also whenever I get really fucked up and super crazy I listen to this song because its like drake is whispering in my ear “we all have our nights though so don’t be so ashamed. I’ve had mine and you’ve had yours” and I’m like “yeah drake you’re totes right, I’m golden.”
I am a very moody person. Moodiness is not an attractive quality. I try not to be moody but sometimes I just sink into dark deep vats of anger and its so easy to hang out there and never leave. My exasperated face is wonderful, my pissed off face is absolutely frightening. So many faces, I’m not sure which one is my favorite. I’m snuggled in bed with my poncho breathing in Burberry perfume and gud body lotion, chilly, with nausea, and I’m afraid to fall asleep. I messed around with my lantus today and don’t know what’s going to happen. My mom is leaving for Detroit. I want to go. I just feel so disjointed. I guess this was a nice xany induced rambling. I dunno.
yesterday my mom handed me a hemp hoodlamb poncho and a nixon watch and I have been snuggled in my poncho all day while looking at said watch and pretending to be cool. my window is partially open and my room is perfectly freezing. there is a boy’s (men’s?) black sweater vest on my desk and I am not entirely sure who it belongs too and I don’t know if it’s bad that I find this to be a funny and a nice surprise as I have been on the hunt for a mens black sweater vest and now I have one for free. I’m reading Jacob Have I Loved and I am depressed and wish I was back on the water, either in Michigan or Boston. I watched Ted yesterday and miss Boston more than ever. Can’t believe I decided to stay in fuckstown virginia for so long. I really fucking love this poncho. it has a secret stash pocket that is so secret my mom and I can’t even find the damn thing. we’ve checked multiple times. I am not drinking alcohol anymore, at least not until my 19th diabetes day. I fucked up bad last night. frightening. I’m 22 years old and wake up to find my mom sleeping next to me “how else was I supposed to hear you if you started dying?” 22 years old and what? potentially wheeled into the ER “yes I’ve been drinking for 6 years, exercising for 10, managing my diabetes for 13, and I still didn’t take anything into consideration, and this is why I am here.” It’s like so this time last year I started hating myself for being diabetic, which scared me because previously I’d always just shrugged it off - what’s the point in hating it, nothings going to change. but its a year later, I’m going fucking blind, I rip out my transmitters when I am drunk, and whimper to stupid blog boy idiots about being a robot, and I still hate myself for being diabetic. it’s so annoying. I wish I had diabetic friends who understood why drinking and exercising and blood testing and insulin and drs visits suck, who understands the complexity of the disease and how it wears you down. that would be nice, I think.
"you’re pretty. like wicked pretty. and I really want to see you again. I think we could be good together. I can take care of you so you won’t have to worry about anything again. You can quit school if you want and do something you really care about. I’ll bring you with me on my international work trips. I just think you’re really pretty. Lets grab a beer"
WHAT. HOW ABOUT NO FOR X AMOUNT OF REASONS:
I don’t want to be taken care of you fuck. Have you never heard the song “Independent” by Webbie featuring Lil Boosie and Lil Phat? My face is practically the highlight of that music video
SCHOOL IS SOMETHING I REALLY CARE ABOUT. I LOVE TO READ.
the international work trips offer is cool…. really cool.. BUT I WONT GIVE IN
PRETTY? thats all you think? if you think I’m that superficial we got problems boo thang
beer? I cant drink beer. OBVIOUSLY you weren’t paying good enough attention to my drink choices at zee bar
“… and suddenly I got shivers down my spine thinking about how many different people one and the same person can be. Strong and feeble. Noble and mean. Brave and cowardly. There was no fathoming it.”—Agnes, “Nothing” by Janne Teller
R: I forgot what you look like. Send me a picture K: well, look. I have a computer chip sensor thing in my tummy now so photos are a thing of the past anyway as I am now a robot. you got me on my last weekend as a free woman R: what does that mean? K: I have a sensor in my tummy that tracks my blood sugar now. I’m like a modern day robot. And I’m not entirely sure how well robots work with flash photography R: technology is so crazy. R: and I am sure you will make the prettiest robot.
I went to new york this weekend. got in late last night because fedex didn’t drop my dexcom off until 4:30 friday afternoon. I still haven’t opened the box, it’s currently sitting next to me & I am kind of terrified. I am also exhausted and don’t want to open it and feel overwhelmed about everything. it’s too late to start it tonight so I am going to get up tomorrow around 10 to start. I was denied the omnipod. then I went and found a new dr. so there’s that.
I’ve recently gotten this “i’m moving to new york when I graduate buzz” mainly because there are usually publishing jobs available & I have a lot of connections in ny so it might be easier to get a job there then here. junior year my mentor told me “you have to live in new york while you’re young, you just have too. that or new orleans” and that’s always stayed in the back of my head. on the busride home today I realized that I have this sudden urge to move to new york because I have my people in new york. all this weekend I was juggling plans with a number of people in the city, and that’s not counting the number of people I didn’t let know that I was going to be in the city. my mom’s best friend, my aunt patty, lives on the upper east side and we hung out last night with katie and patty’s friend gary & it was so fun. just relaxing. like all day I was relaxed. mighty hungover, but relaxed.
katie and I are pretty similar in that we like to explore, and we’re both pretty calm when it comes to figuring shit out to do. it’s why we got along so well initially in london I think. I could call Katie and be all hey girl hey, I found this article in some hipster magazine about this obscure bar / restaurant / thrift store / art gallery, let’s go. and then we would go. and we did that pretty much yesterday - hung out in the east village and then made our way up the east side shopping. I finally got to visit cure thrift shop and finally found a new pair of black joes jeans because they are a staple in my winter wardrobe. it’s just easy hanging out with katie. we met up with morgan on friday night and I was so happy to see her. she’s got this cool job which is great because I know she was worried about job prospects at the end of the school year. morgan is really go with the flow too so it was an easy fun drunk night. I guess what makes me want to move to nyc are these relationships - the easy ones that don’t take effort. when having fun can be done anywhere. the ones where you look out for another but also don’t get your panties in a bunch if your friend leaves the bar to go home or you ring doorbells over and over at 5am. where you’re allowed to make mistakes and these are easily forgiven. here it’s like I always have to be on edge and I feel like I am always apologizing - sorry I was so drunk, sorry I was so sleepy, sorry I stayed when you left. and I guess I just don’t think that friendships should be built on “sorrys.” I haven’t found easy relationship people yet here and I haven’t found people who want to explore, which is really killing me. it’s like all my friends just want to go out in faneuil hall and not find anything different. personally I think bostonians who choose to go out in faneuil hall are not really the type of bostonians I want to be meeting. tourist central, bros, shitty shitty shitty bars. no one ever wants to check out the dives I hear about in the financial district or go drinking on the waterfront or visit the science museum or quirky art galleries.
and so I have this like boston vs nyc thing going on in my head, and nyc is winning because the people there make me feel like I’m home. even though here, in boston, when I come, I feel like I’m coming home and when I am in my apt I am so happy to be in my little space with my turkey plates and tiny dishwasher and broken heater. I like the space I have created for myself and I love boston but I’m starting to resent it because I feel like I have no one here.
I finally got approved for the dexcom and received my shipping confirmation while walking home from class today! It is arriving on friday. I am not going to leave my apartment at all so tomorrow and thursday I am going to check out all of my books and buy exciting snacks. It’s like waiting for the delivery of a baby! But instead it is a continuous glucose monitoring system. My mom has wanted me to get one for the past 6 or 7 years but they were always so bulky and cumbersome. The new dexcom g4 platinum that was approved by the FDA about a month ago has a very small sensor that can stay in your body for 7 days (longest time out of all the CGM’s available) & it has a receiver that is TINY - it seriously can fit in the palm of my hand with my fingers closed aorund it - that tracks your glucose levels every five minutes and displays them on a color coordinated graph based on whether your blood sugar is low, within range, or high. You can set alarms so that your CGM goes off whenever your blood sugar drops really low or shoots up. It doesn’t take place of testing your blood sugar, you still need to test 5+ times a day, but it does provide a ton of information you otherwise would not be able to have. It’s good for when I am low and am eating something but can’t feel as though my blood sugar is going up - the CGM can tell me what it’s doing. Or sometimes my blood sugar will be high before I work out but I hesitate to correct it because if it’s dropping then the additional insulin plus exercise would make me crash. But if it is not dropping, the exercise won’t affect my blood sugar as much and it will continue to rise. If I had a CGM I would know whether or not my blood sugar was rising, and how quickly, and then could correct appropriately. I think it will be really beneficial for me and am excited to see how it is going to help my diabetes control.
Tomorrow I go to the doctor to see if they will approve me for the omnipod. Last time I went the doctor said that I had to start testing at least four times a day and that we would see how I was doing the next time I came in. This really bothered me. I don’t really think it is up to a doctor who doesn’t know me to decide what kind of insulin therapy I want to use to control my diabetes. She has no idea how I am going to do on a pump. I have been really excited for the omnipod and have been waiting since April to have the opportunity to use one. It would make so many parts of my life easier. I wouldn’t have to take Lantus anymore - an insulin with a different ph level than your blood so everytime you inject you have a burning stinging pain that on multiple times has brought me to tears. All of my information would be stored in the PDM so just one print out would show everything I have eaten, my blood test scores, my insulin amounts, and combined with graphs from my CGM, you would basically have diabetes information galore. I dunno. I think it’s really fucked up. If I think that having a pump is going to help improve my otherwise horrible diabetes control, then let me have the fucking pump. It’s not like anything bad happens to MGH if I fuck up with the pump. AND I WANT IT. I can’t even begin to explain how frustrating this is. I used a pump for about six months in high school. It was an animas pump so it had the tubing and I was really athletic, and the tubing / having to be unattached provided more problems than assumed. I would have to stick the pump in my bra or in my jeans pocket, and so many times the tubing would get caught on door handles or edges of desks, ripping out the infusion site in my stomach, leaving me sitting in photography class with a bloody stomach and the annoyance of having to insert another infusion site - they hurt like hell. Eventually my doctor at the time realized I was allergic to the latex in the infusion sites and had me switch to STEEL NEEDLE INFUSION SITES. Do I even need to begin to explain what it feels like to have a steel freaking needle ripped out of your poor little sixteen year old tummy, catching you off guard and BAM oh look more scars!? I have BLOOD STAINS on my carpet from the time I bent down to pick up a shoe and my pump fell out of my bra and landed on the floor, dragging the infusion set with it. Basically, I HATED the pump. HATED IT. And yet here I am, six years later, willing to try out a tubeless pump, willing to spend the cash money, willing to sit through pump classes, insert infusion sets, wear my diabetes like a badge, & look like a freaking robot.. and you’re telling me no? That I can’t have one? Like fuck off. When I was on the pump, despite how shitty it was, my HBA1C levels were AWESOME. They were as low as they were when my mom did everything for me. The same thing will happen with the OmniPod, especially with the combination of the dexcom, and yet here is the doctor, “no we’re just going to have you wait.”
GO FUCK YOURSELF.
I am not leaving that office tomorrow without her giving me all of the information I need and her faxing everything. If it means yelling and having a temper tantrum and stomping my feet then so be it. I’m on track to have a yelling fest anyways.
I already have my Podsieve. Now all I need is Harry Podder and He Who Should Not Be Podded.