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“Not So Fast, Edinberg!”

A joke a family friend used to share when I was a teenager was this little gem:

The Captain called the Sergeant in. “Sarge, I just got a telegram. Private Jones’ mother died yesterday. Better go tell him and send him in to see me.” So the Sergeant calls for his morning formation and lines up all the troops. “Listen up, men,” says the Sergeant. “Johnson, report to the mess hall for KP. Smith, report to Personnel to sign some papers. The rest of you men report to the Motor Pool for maintenance. Oh by the way, Jones, your mother died, report to the commander.”
Later that day the Captain called the Sergeant into his office. “Hey, Sarge, that was a pretty cold way to inform Jones his mother died. Couldn’t you be a bit more tactful, next time?” “Yes, sir,” answered the Sarge. A few months later, the Captain called the Sergeant in again with, “Sarge, I just got a telegram. Private McGrath’s mother died. You’d better go tell him and send him in to see me. This time be more tactful.” So the Sergeant calls for his morning formation. “Ok, men, fall in and listen up. Everybody with a mother, take two steps forward — NOT SO FAST, McGRATH!”

Of course, my reason for remembering it has a lighter fare to it. “OK, men, fall in and listen up. Everybody who has not had sugar in the last 24 hours, take two steps forward — NOT SO FAST, EDINBERG!

Yes, it infiltrated my system again. I was there, I noticed it happening, but failed to react in time. Once it began going down, it was like a freight train response. It just kept coming. Like a drug, I just needed more and then more until I could have no more. Now I awaken groggy, with a sense of failure, yet a dust-myself-off kind of day before me. Need a plan to react because it will be there awaiting my response. Regulating my sugar level will be necessary. Recognizing the sugar need and want to arise somewhere between 12 and 4pm is predictable. Recalling that my body seems to need 72 hours of clean to not have to build such a defense. I had only given it two since this past Saturday night when I chose my foods of delight that would eat at my insides, deteriorating my normal systems. Yet now, that lack of control, tired feeling, the one that is weakened by the frankenfoods, wants dominance once again. They shall not have it should I stand firm in my defense back to equilibrium.

Here’s hoping a good day has dawned.

Published inHealthy Avenue

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