My feet (my old "personal" picture...)

Actually, this is my dog and our new cat sleeping on the couch and actually gettihng along with each other...
My feet!

good eatting and horrible numbers!

Dinner: At the High Street Brfewer and Cafe in Eugene Oregon:

Appetizer: tater tots with cheese dip

Hamberger (1/3 pound) with Tillamooh cheedar cheese and a fried egg

plus great french fries

and two glasses of a great microbrew beer!

The hamberger was so good it deserves to be mentioned by it's name ("Wilbur's Jumbo Deluxe Burger") and it's description "Bacon,Tillamook cheddar, & a fried egg" on their menu.

Events have consequences and so did my "little" binging...

Then, 2 hours and 30 minutes later, I took my "two hours after eatting blood reading" (the above figure of 201!).

For most folks, that might seem too high. But for me, it is quite high and will probably fuck up my A1C test in late May! (28 May 2006: This little binge probably had it's part in my getting an increase in A1c from 6.8 to 7.0! in late May!) However, it was well worth it!

Dinner: At the Golden Crown in Beaveron, Oregon, the number 9 and a beer.

This food was quite good but was quite bad for me! Two hours after eatting, I had the highest blood sugar reading I've ever recorded! This was:

For me, this was a shockingly high value. I just knew that it really help fuck up my A1C test in late May (and I rather think that it did!). Alas but it did give me a really strong hint on what I shouldn't eat. Also, I could take comfort in the fact that I go to this restraunt perhaps once a year and almost never go to Chinese elsewhere. Kind of a reassurring thougth, kind of...

Of course, I being a highly intelligent type who takes bad news in stride and knowing that I should do nothing to jack that frigging reading, didn't go out for a walk but had a beer instead...

Ok, I may be fairly intelligent but sometimes I just sigh and do the easy but bad things...

Besides, I felt better after having that beer. (I didn't get around to telling me wife just how bad bad was...)

pictures of my feet...

Given that my brother Charlie doesn't have feet, I get a certain amount of reassurrance in knowing that I still do.








My wife accidentally "cut off" my big toes when she took this photo.










An attempt at photographing my damaged left little toe. I ran my left foot into something about four months ago and the toenail may have stopped growing.

Another shot of my left foot.

A nice shot of my feet!

Who says my dog and cat (one of them anyway) can't get along with each other?

I just picked a scab...

My brother Charlie has a serious ulser on his left foot. He finally admitted that the ulser was on the side of his left heel and that he had developed a blister there.

A blister?

Wasn't he taking care to ensure his shoe fit well? (With no right foot, saying "shoes" is rather redundant and sentimental.)

Well, the blister had scabbed over and he picked the scab!

He picked the fucking scab? Well, that lead to an infection and that lead to him going to the emergency room in January with a serious ulser. He knows his blood sugar is way too high and also knows the threats of foot injury.

There is something very scary about my brother's leg loss. He has been a diabetic for 26 years and his blood sugar is why too damn high. (He thinks an A1C of 7.5 is normal.) I've been a diabetic for almost two years and I'm having trouble with my own blood sugar. I'm worrying that I might someday end up in the same fucked up situation as my brother.