Sugar pot pie… where did that term come from…  I’m terrified to google it because who knows what I might find…  I don’t even know what the hell it means.  I don’t like sugared pot pie.

I like sugar…

I like pot pie.  Well I like home made pot pie, a lot.

Sadly, for the time being those are both things I can’t have…

Why?  Well because, that’s why.  Let me take you back, back, back a few days.  Thursday November 13th to be precise.  Yes, that was the day of Ignite… and yes I said I was done talking about it, but that was before I remembered that this all started on the same day…  That very morning.  I woke up early to get K ready for school only to determine that she was still a little too under the weather for class.  I fed her breakfast, got her dressed anyway, rushed Mike to get ready, I DID NOT eat any breakfast, and then we all piled into the car together to head to my doctor’s office.  That’s the thing about having a medical condition and being medicated.  You have to actually go to your doctor on a regular basis… otherwise they do things like stop refilling your life saving medicine.  I was in just such a position.  I needed to see my doctor, have my blood pressure checked and have a panel of blood tests run so that I could get my blood pressure medication dosage adjusted.

So I did just that.  We got to the doctor’s office a few minutes early, and in a stunning turn of events he saw me about 3 minutes before my appointment.  I was weighed *shudder*  had my height checked and my  blood pressure taken *shudder shiver* and then he asked me a few questions, we had a bit of discussion and I was sent downstairs to the lab for blood work.

I was prepared for this to take FOR.EVER.  It usually does… but my doctor had moved his office to a new building and it had a new lab, and this new lab?  Very efficient.  I waited about 3 minutes to go back and see the phlebotomist and then it was a matter of moments before she was done sucking the precious blood from my vein.

With that done we headed out of the office, picked up an order of buttons for Strange Love Live, picked up a new heavier duty prescription for my high blood pressure and then picked up lunch from Sellwood’s fantastic food carts.  I had soup, Mike and K had barbecue.

Then I napped and *mumble mumble 5 minutes mumble mumble bruised the balls of my feet wearing mumble mumble mumble was up too late mumble*

The next morning after I dropped K off at school I was understandably tired so I decided to take a nap… just as I was about to get off the phone with my friend and curl up for some sleep I got another call.  It was from my doctor’s office.

It had only been 24 hours since my blood test so I couldn’t fathom what they could possibly need from me… I mean really… they’d already gotten a bunch of my blood, they know how much I weigh, when I quit smoking, how much I drink, my family’s medical history and the frequency of my blogging… What did they want?

They wanted to tell me that my blood sugar is too high.  Yes, because my blood pressure being too high is not enough.  Taking my medication and carefully watching my sodium intake and being sure to drink enough water and get rest and walk 2 miles a day and take care of myself is not enough.  We need to pile more onto the medical shoulders of Cami.

What does this mean?  That if there were such thing as a sugar pot pie I would not be allowed to have it.  I have been asked to cut out refined sugar and simple carbohydrates for a while until another blood test can be taken to determine where I stand.

With my blood sugar.

It’s not the cherry coke alone that’s doing it but I had to say fairwell to my dear addictive cola friend for good.  I’ve also had to say good bye to sour dough bread, white rice and regular pasta.  Anyone have a good recipe for a whole wheat pie crust they can recommend… I really don’t want to give up my home made chicken pot pies…