The Gift of the Gab…

My nurse, Rebecca, is so gregarious.  As soon as we enter the examining room to administer my shot, she is small talking a hundred miles an hour.  To my sensitive nature about such things, it can be an onslaught. I’ve learned to watch and listen though; to learn something that just doesn’t come natural to me.  My father is the master of small talk.  I’ve never met a more able bodied individual with regards to that subject.  I get better as time goes by and it is less painful.  Still, I can be awkward. 

This morning as I was waiting on dad to fill my prescription for my injection, his employee, Judy, came up to me. 

“I ordered your caffeine free diet Cokes,” she said. “I couldn’t get them in the case, but did get them in the six pack.  I will get Tim to load them into your car.”

Dad was listening as he stood behind the counter at the computer.

“No!” he said laughing to Judy. “Andrew is like Barney Fife.  He’s only allowed one bullet for his gun.  He can only have six cokes at a time.”

Judy had this confused look on her face.  I can only imagine what she thought.  A 37 year old man having the amount of caffeine free diet cokes limited in his diet.  It embarrassed me to a point.

As I was leaving, dad wanted me to step on the pay scales in his store to weigh.  He is keenly interested in my bulimia and the weight loss and gain.  When I saw my psychiatrist two weeks ago, I weighed 167 pounds.  Dad put a penny in the scales and we watched as the dial spinned upwards.  I weighed 175.

“Our goal weight is 185,” dad said relieved I had gained weight.  That was a very, very good indicator that I’ve been on the straight and narrow with regards to practicing my bulimia.   I’ve just learned not to eat big meals.  I can’t feel too full or it will trigger it something immensely.  I eat small meals all throughout the day.

Ole!

Every Tuesday night, mom eats dinner with an old friend, Sandra, at the Mexican restaurant.  They’ve been doing it for years and years; probably as long as that restaurant has been in existence.  Mom always brings me by a to-go order and I tell her to surprise me.  Tonight, she brought chicken fajitas.  It was the most food I have ever seen.  There were chips and salsa.  Chicken fajitas and tortillas.   Refried beans and cheese.  Mexican rice. And guacamole salad.  Wednesday is grocery day and my cupboards are always bare about this time so it is so welcomed. 

I am going with mom to get groceries today.  I already have what I need planned out in my mind.  You better bet I am going to spend the whole $85 dollars I am allotted.  I am getting…

• Windex window cleaner
• One 200 watt light bulb
• A pack of four Bic cigarette lighters.
• Two loaves of Sunbeam bread.
• Two packs of sliced roasted chicken
• Two packs of sliced American cheese
• Ten Lean Cuisine frozen meals.
• One large box of unfrosted strawberry toaster Poptarts.
• A bunch of bananas.
• Four granny smith apples.  
• A dozen eggs.
• Two packages of Black Label bacon.
• Blue Bonnet margarine.

You rang?

Mom was at a doctor’s appointment yesterday morning when I called the house.  Helen answered the phone.  

“What you need, baby?” she asked. “Your momma’s at the doctors.”

“I’ll call back later when mom gets home,” I replied.

“While I have you on the phone,” Helen said. “What do you want for supper Friday evening?  I have to get the groceries Thursday.”

“Meatloaf, meatloaf, meatloaf,” I started to chant. “And some of your delicious biscuits, creamed potatoes, and English peas.”

It was my favorite meal after all.  Helen laughed and said dad would like that meal as well. 

“I’ll put an extra piece of meatloaf on your plate when I prepare it,” Helen said.

“Thank you sweetheart,” I replied.

Helen hung up the phone.  I can’t wait until Friday. 

EUPHORIA!!!

About three hours after my injection, I got that familiar feeling of extreme euphoria.  It is like the most prolonged and intense orgasm.  I sat in my quiet house, in my lazy boy, as I smoked cigarette after cigarette all the while sipping on my preferred orange drink.  Before I knew it, six hours had passed.  For six short hours, I was lost in my thoughts.  Grinning.  Daydreaming about various topics and where my life could go in three or more years time.