Why couldn’t I have booked that Caribbean cruise for now instead of May? Oh, yeah: I’m taking the college kids and have to wait until the semester is over. I only have to remind myself where we’re going and which cruise line we’re taking to realize the grandchildren (and a friend each) are coming along. Give me a smaller ship with an older crowd any time.
Well, the young’uns can do what they want, and my traveling bud and I can kick back, read, and sip on fruity drinks decorated with tiny umbrellas. The youngest will be less than one month shy of her 21st birthday on the trip, so they’re all old enough that nobody has to chase after them (as I did in their younger days).
At least my leg will look better. I’ve been continuing my experiments with goat’s milk soap and have been paying attention to my lower leg and foot. I don’t recall when it began, but the lower part of my leg has been reddish for a while, with blisters or something on part of it. After just two washes with goat’s milk soap, the red was fading and my skin was nice and smooth. At this point, the red is just about all gone.
My husband, who also has Type 2 diabetes, has necrobiosis lipoidica diabeticorum (just call it NLD), and I’ve suggested he try goat’s milk soap on it. Couldn’t hurt. I’ll let you know how it turns out.
But, speaking of legs and cruises and warm weather, maybe y’all can help me out with something.
For those of you who don’t know, I have a below-the-knee amputation of my left leg and I do not wear a prosthesis because I get an itchy rash when I do. I’m careful about not letting people see what they now call a “residual limb.” It used to be called a stump, but I call it “Kenny” after the podiatry resident who gave that foot its last pedicure.
But I digress. I usually wear long skirts, but would like to wear capris or even shorts. Do you think it would freak people out if they saw a bare leg that didn’t go all the way down to the floor? I could put a stump sock on it, but that would somehow defeat the purpose of going bare-legged in the Caribbean sunshine.
Besides, stump socks are these dull white things. I don’t know why they can’t make them in colors, or in tie-dye or another pattern. Medical stuff doesn’t have to look like medical stuff. Does it?
And, speaking of medical stuff…I finally got my new continuous glucose monitor (CGM)!
It took long enough. I was getting a new one because the battery in the transmitter of my former CGM died. No, you can’t replace the battery: you have to buy a new one. Transmitter, that is — not battery. That was about mid-November.
A couple of weeks passed with nothing heard. I called. “We faxed a letter of medical necessity to your endocrinologist to sign, but he hasn’t sent it back yet.” They faxed another. More waiting and another call. They didn’t have the letter yet. I read the fax number to the person. Just in case. They had the right number.
I sent a note to Doc telling him I needed the letter signed and sent back. His response? “What fax?”
Oh, just a silly piece of paper buried in the morass. Keeping me and the object of my desires from each other. Sigh.
My next move was to call his nurse and give her the company’s number so they could work it out. “Got it!” she said when she called later that day. “It’s signed and faxed back.”
Was that the end of it? Nope. The letter, now signed, then apparently got buried in the morass at the CGM company. It was another two or three weeks before I got my CGM, despite the fact that my insurance company gave its approval the day it got the paperwork.
Add one more item to the long list of things people with diabetes need to do: Nag.