The ginger menace is a slave driver

On the last day of July I came out to Simon and Joe's to start serving Catsie, the one-eyed ginger overlord, while his usual servant are off gallivanting.

So I have been on the Taieri enjoying the luxury of not being in my awful apartment building having to deal with my awful neighbours.  The luxury of having a whole house to wander about instead of living in a shoe box.  The luxury of a pellet burner so that I can look at the beauty of fire.  And the luxury of a bath tub so that I have now treated myself to a soak to relieve my knee of much of its annoyingness.

Of course it was once out here, and unable to get to town without bothering other people for transport, that I finally got contacted by the dental school about a waiting list I have been on since... I think 2017 (possibly even 2016) for something that was supposed to be done within 18 months but they have only just got to.

So I had an assessment last week and discovered that fortunately I do still appear to have enough bone remain even after all this time.  In less good news, the gold crown that broke last year but not leave enough healthy root to be repairable, so the amount of actual tooth in my mouth shall decline even further.

Also, I didn't pack my reflux meds because the side effects were annoying me.  The side effects have indeed cleared up, but after 14 days of not taking it the reflux is really starting to kick in again and is very bothersome.  Will have to work out the balance of how occasionally to take it to take the edge off the reflux without making myself sick in other ways.

I should be better at writing in this, but my mental health has not been great and it would just be a lot of moping onto the page - and no one needs that.

I haven’t been sleeping great out here, especially since the dentistry of it all started up.

My giant hulking bear of a dentist has been ringing me almost daily wrangling details as he complicates things by treating my diabetes like it means I am made of glass and will shatter under the drill.  And his worry is making my general discomfort with situations where I don’t have control into a swirling spiral of anxiety.

It has led to a lot of getting in my head a lot about my general diabetes management.  In the… I think two years now… since I did that last diabetes trial my HbA1c has not recovered, in spite of the fact that I have slowly lost almost 20kg and followed the dietician advice fairly well.  It is almost like my metabolism is fucked in general, what with lacking a major regulatory organ and having been a bit of a trainwreck even before that.

And Catsie is kind of a jerk, which doesn’t help.

He takes any sign that I am getting ready for bed as a sign to suddenly because very demanding of attention - after having shunned any interaction I had offered at time that were actually convenient for me.  And he gets very loud if I try to ignore him and just go to bed.  Tiny orange troll.

I should be forgiving, he is old.  Based on his declining appetite is quite possibly the last time I will be cat-sitting him.