ou know something you nothing about. Even though this article belongs with the new weekend medical junk... this be good right here on the first workday of the new week. Labels: Stroke
Even getting out of hospital I now have 3 nurses that see multiple times a week. A head nurse, exercise nurse and a reading nurse. A Head Nurse checks my blood pressure, etc. The Physical Therapist makes me exercise and the Reading Nurse exercises my brain.
Friday, the Head Nurse comes and ask me if I have been taking my glucose reading daily with my monitor. Ummmm... well... I said "oh sure, it's fine."
She nonchanlantly says, "well, why don't you go it and will take a reading?" I'm thinking that this should be fun. I go get it and return. The needle-machine thingy in one hand and the needle in the other hand. Well what do you know... I can't operate the damn thing...
The Nurse saves the day and blames it on my stroke. Hmmmm, I have to tuck away that excuse... Completes the task and we get the test, mission accomplished.
Yesterday I decided to take my own reading. I should be doing this more of myself and more conscience of my well-being. Since I watched the Nurse the other day and how easily she did it. How bad could it be? I set everything up... now I got the silly needle and ready to stick it into the machine so it can stick me in the finger.
In goes the gentle needle... hmmm, a little loose, not a problem it still goes in... there comes the problem... the cap that covers the sharp needle and the entire top refuses to on to and securely closed.
The needle-tagger thingy ripped into my flesh. Called out to Saints I haven't ever heard of before. I perseverance for 5 for minutes. I am breaking out into a cold sweat. I am not allowing this small, crap of cheap aluminum needle get the best of me.
All of a sudden, the needle-rocket flew out of my finger and flew into my monitor. Bouncing from the screen, narrowly missing my coffee and dived head first into my buttered toast breakfast.
Ya know when were where a kid and dropped candy on the ground? Remember ya kissed it up to heaven and it was ok to eat? Would that work the way on buttered toast that had been stabbed with a diabetical needle?