I'm going to try to make sense with this post but, I'm still sick and when I'm sick I have a very difficult time focusing.
My grandpa finally got out of the psych ward this afternoon. The home he's in now invited us to have dinner with him tonight. I saw there was a lady that was putting all the medicine together for all the tenants. I noticed that she had a meter and test strips and figured there must be some diabetics in the home. I was wondering how many carbs the dinner was going to have so Mom suggested that I go ask her. She must know since you'd obviously need to know how many carbs there were to be able to properly take care of the diabetics.
"Ma'am? Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure, what do you need?"
"I was wondering how many carbs are in the meal tonight."
"Oh, we don't keep track of that."
"Well you've got diabetics here, how do you know how much insulin to give them or if they're on track with their meal plan?" I said exasperated.
"Well we don't do anything intensive like that. We just make sure everything is low sugar, stuff like that." She said this like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Since when is counting carbs intensive?
And low sugar my butt! They served us a large cup of juice for our drink. The main course was meatloaf with half a plate of corn and some new potatoes. That might be low sugar but that was the furthest from low carb. I mean, half my plate was nothing but corn. Then we got some very sugary desserts. I glanced at someone I had seen have their blood sugar tested. They got the same thing the rest of us did.
If they don't keep track of carbs then how do they give these people the proper amount of insulin? The diabetics in that home aren't going to die of whatever has put them into assisted living, they'll be killed by such poor care. The lady said that they aren't that intensely trained, they aren't nurses. Apparently they just treat the diabetics like the rest of the patients. They give them their drugs at the appropriate times and otherwise let them do whatever.
I really hope Grandpa never gets diabetes because that place would kill him. Good grief, that really got me ticked. I don't even know the people that have diabetes in there but I feel upset for them. That particular home is for the memory impaired so it's not like they can stand up for themselves. I'm still fuming.
An August Appendectomy
4 days ago