It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed a nice cup of coffee in the morning. I miss the clink of metal upon porcelain, and observing the dollop of cream expand into a fresh galaxy as it spins the quasi-pellucid auburn into an inviting shade of caramel. Nothing would be quite as invigorating as inhaling the coffee-infused steam rising from the cup, long-awaited tendrils snaking into my fuzzy brain.
I didn’t have time for coffee today. Better Half had an appointment at the VAMC.
His appointments are an endless parade of clinics, test, treatments and speculation as to what would best comfort him or, at least, alleviate some of his pain. Today was one of those rare Quick Answers Days.
Without going into too much detail, I can say that Better Half has been through a miserable month. Thirty pounds of weight loss (mostly muscle) and unquenchable thirst would point to diabetes. His glucose was over three hundred today. He is extremely depressed; it’s just one more thing on top of another. Endless medications and therapeutic devices, and now we have a brand new meter, lancets and swabs. There’s a prescription to go along with it (his pill case can’t fit anything else in) and an admonishment about diet changes (I wholeheartedly agree with that part).
We could really use a break. I could really use some coffee.
On the plus side: we avoided ice, snow and heavy traffic.
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