seven years ago today my blood sugar was 877 and i was ten minutes from dead

But now it's doing fine – unless NuHerbie and I have marital issues – and, barring freak turns of nature and/or anvils falling on my head, so am I.

Short recap: lost 40 pounds -> always thirsty, always pissing -> angular face, couldn't move, fire breath -> ER, guess what youve got T1D, ICU for two days, ice chips (motherfucking ice chips), regular hospital for two days -> homecoming, handling 2016 election and Leonard Cohen's death sober, four months of retraining myself to run again (yoga FTW: I'd be lost without my 13 years of it) back in the swing of things -> move forward, one foot at a time, into the years ahead that were nearly gone in ten minutes.

Regular posting marking this personal holiday duly posted and marked. I still hate motherfucking ice chips.

/1421

It would appear that I did, indeed, cock up my infusion set / insulin cartridge refill and, though remedied, Herbie will nonetheless spend the afternoon slinging little middle fingers and numerical feces at me. Joy of joys.

While I initially dismissed it in my general post-visit haze, something my endo said yesterday to the effect of T2D being about lifestyle while T1D being a game, has, on further thought, given me (perhaps) a new way of thinking about my herbie-enhanced cybernetic-life: since games are both an art AND a science, maybe the best way forward with T1D is to let herbie handle the science while I handle the art; what, exactly “the art” looks like remains TBD.