It’s the ready meals – or, if I die, you’ll know why – my diabetes avoidance blog

Good morning,

Yesterday evening I felt fabulous. I’d cycled almost 30k the day before, in the sunshine. No problems at work and my latest children’s manuscript was ready to send to the agent. I felt reasonably satisfied with the query letter; I’d spent 19 hours perfecting it; time to let go.

Then my partner told me what was for dinner ( he enjoys cooking), “my favourte” take-away, chicken korma from Tesco; sorry Tesco you do have some lovely healthy natural yogurt – in fact a whole lovely new shelf of it, which I ate yesterday and forgot to mention; not the shelf, a tub.

“No”, I protested. “I’ll be up all night. I’ll disturb your sleep. I’ll be thirsty.” 

Do I sound unreas unreaunreasunreasounreasunreaunreasunre

I’ve left the previous gobbledygook in to give you an example of the ridiculousness of an algorithm trying to compete with an educated English graduate. Lol.

Maybe, I thought, I’m being unreasonable.

If at first you don’t suceed….

Still, I should resist. Eat something else.

“Mmm; it’s really nice. Thank you.”

This morning, I feel different. I was up half the night. I drank 4 pints of water. I’m not given to exaggeration. My stomach is rock hard. My stools; yes, my stools, are like pellets. Sorry. Well I’m writing this in the interests of diabetes avoidance. I have to be transparent.

I can’t wait for my enema; I mean coffee.

Ah, that’s better. A coffee a day keeps the doctor away, No that’s apples. Seriously though, the coffee works every time.

I’m off for my blood test. I’ve got low iron. Do you think the meat has helped?

As an addendage; I’ve had my blood test now, and “if I die, you’ll know why”, as the nurse withdrew the needle, there was a fizz. The nurse apologised. “Sorry – that doesn’t usually happen” – the same words when the midwife dropped my newborn daughter; luckily I was in a tub of water. Does anybody take responsibility for anything anymore? Seriously. I’m thinking, shouldn’t you be watching me or writing something in the incident book? I mean didn’t I read somewhere that if you release air into the blood you get a clot on the brain? Am I being unreasonable? Stalling, I tell her I felt very dizzy yesterday. She advises man to take something soluble with a forgettable name, over the counter from Boots. I’m thinking, I won’t be doing that, I’m a poor writer (hopefully, I’m better than a poor writer – I’m a good writer, I believe), financially  I’m poor – working in a part-time job on a low income. Still, things can change in an instant….

Bye for now.


Published by hermionelaake - Awards-nominated writer and associate editor O:JA&L

Currently, whist working on long fiction, I write short stories, poetry, essays and blog weekly. I appeared on Blog Talk Radio, 2016, interview across continents with Susan Wingate. See my twitter account: herziloph, pinned tweet; Award nominee, Jointly-published and Indie writer. Nominated for the Avon and Authonomy First Lines prize, 2014 and the H. G. Wells Grand Prize for Fiction, 2013. My flash fiction is published with Open: Journal of Arts and Letters.

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