And so it goes...

It's been an eventful few weeks in the blissful house. I wish I could say that I've been away vacationing in the Caribbean or some other such news, but no such luck. Truth is, after watching my dear Mr. Blissful deteriorate right before my eyes this past month (he's been sooo sick, still is, and has lost close to 40 pounds in less than a month) we finally got a diagnosis of diabetes last Monday (I knew it. I told you I like to read medical books and he had all of the symptoms. Bummer).

The Doctor wanted to admit him into the hospital to get everything straitened out, but because we don't have insurance we're stuck trying to get him regulated the slow, slow, SLOW way and I hate watching him suffer. Those with diabetes know that when not properly regulated it can be a very MISERABLE experience. More miserable than those of us without it could ever fully comprehend.

Because I'm the star chef around these parts I've been doing a lot of studying this past week, trying to figure out how to feed my man (Paula Deen, the affair is over. It's splitsville for us now and forever. And this time I mean it). It's a lot to learn and we hope to meet with a dietitian after his lab work comes in and we know exactly what we're dealing with (the Dr suspects it's type 1. Bummer.)

Anyway it's been interesting. I've had to take on the role of the tough, take charge one and I dare say it's been good for me. But even so, I can't wait for my dearest love to be back to feeling like his normal healthy self again.

P.S. We went to the Valley this weekend and had to stop in for a bite at a fast food place. Because I'm the one who's been studying his diet, Rick kept asking me if he could order this, that or the other and when I'd say no the girl behind the counter looked at me like I was some kind of psycho controlling wife. Seriously funny.