#diabetes monitors strips

[diabeticcorner]

FAQs About Glucose Strips for Pet Diabetes: Answers You Need

Diabetes affects our pets too. Do you have a diabetes-diagnosed pet, dog or cat? You must monitor their blood sugar levels. Pet Diabetes is something that is controlled and monitored in large part with the help of Glucose Strips for Pet Diabetes. They assist in tracking the sugar levels of your pet.

How Do Glucose Strips for Pet Diabetes Work?

Pet glucose strips also called one-use strips can only be used with a glucose meter and have a compact size. They are meant to check on the quantity of sugar in your pet’s bloodstream.

Using glucose strips is easy. Simply, place a small drop of blood on the strip and insert it into the glucose meter. It shows an electronic figure of their blood glucose level. Testing with Pet Glucose Monitors is easy, fast and will not cause any discomfort as well as offering precise measurements.

Glucose strips for pet diabetes: why they are vital?

Track Blood Sugar Levels:

The glucose strips are meant to check your pet’s blood glucose levels. You can find whether some nutrients in them are too high or too low. If you want to manage diabetes within your pet, you should monitor it frequently.

Adjust Insulin Dosage:

They also enable adjustments to insulin therapy in patients with type II diabetes and who monitor their blood sugar at home. When it is measured correctly, you and your vet can be sure your pet is given adequate insulin as recommended.

Early Detection of Issues:

This means that regular glucose strips usage can prevent possible issues. You can reach the right decision about their diet, medicine, or general well-being.

How Often Should You Test Your Pet’s Blood Sugar?

This all depends on the advice from your vet who has been attending to your pet. It requires more frequent testing in the early phase but reduces once the condition is stable. It is performed before mealtime and injections or at regular time intervals if your veterinarian advises you to do so.

What Should You Do If the Results Are Abnormal?

If the glucose levels are consistently too high or too low, consult your veterinarian immediately. They will evaluate your pet’s condition and adjust their diet, medication, or lifestyle accordingly.

What Are the Benefits of Regular Monitoring with Glucose Strips?

Monitoring the blood glucose level regularly can keep your pet's diabetes in check.

It helps them live a healthier, more comfortable life.

It reduces the risk of complications.

In a nutshell, managing pet diabetes is easy with the right Glucose Strips for Pet Diabetes. There are different brands available in the market to choose from. Shop now at www.diabeticcorner.com

[medicalsupplyca]

Prodigy Blood Glucose Monitor

The Prodigy Blood Glucose Monitor is a dependable device for tracking blood sugar levels. With its accurate results and user-friendly features, it assists individuals with diabetes in maintaining their health.

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

It still kind of blows my mind that it's 29 years ago since my grandfather, two aunts, my mom, my uncle, the pharmacist and her treating doctor had to harass state health insurance to testify that my great-aunt would benefit from an at-home blood sugar meter, even if she didn't have type 1, as opposed to going to the doctor 3-5 times a day to have it measured. The thing was the size and weight of a brick, took several drops of blood to read, and the test strips were the size of my grade schooler pinky. It was accurate...ish. Text was gray on Nintendo screen green, and about the size of Arial 10. Three people were schooled on how to use it, in case it was necessary while she was unconscious. She had to pay for it herself as a pensioner who had never worked, and the entire family chipped in to make it happen, before they got on more of a first name basis with the ambulance drivers than they already were, what with there being just-in-case pastries in the house daily to "make sure those boys ate lunch".

Today I have my own blood sugar meter that I bought for less than 10 bucks "just in case". I've lost test strips down the back of the sofs and never had to be horrified about how much money I'd just wasted. My doctor just read out my hb1c value from a pinprick of blood in less than 2 minutes. The second I need constant monitoring, I'll get CGM sensors that work with my phone, paid out by insurance.

Most millennials are older than the concept of all kinds of diabetes being able to be monitored reliably, easily and affordably at home. It feels kinda unreal.

[growingtransgirl]

Be me. Buy a new glucose monitor. Don't get test strips because they normally come with the monitor. There's no test strips. For the record, I have no intentions of managing my diabetes. I just want to see how high my blood sugar is.

[knickynoo]

heyyyy so. i love your blog. and i was wondering, what you think about the headcanon that marty could be diabetic? with what little evidence we have in the movies? ( for example, him turning away peanut brittle which is ALL SUGAR, always drinking sugar free pepsi, asking for something without sugar in 55 at the diner, shoving food in his mouth after the phone call with doc in the morning before he goes to the twin pines lot, etc) i have a headcanon that doc keeps a stash of candy or snacks for marty if his blood sugar crashes or goes low. ( and i know the sleepiness and implied laziness of marty was probably due to mjf being sleep deprived but i read that thats a side effect of low blood sugar?? ) and not to mention the layers he always wears, probably bc hes cold ??? idk , ive had that hc for a while and i just wanted to know your opinions and thoughts on it ??

Ahhh, the return of one of my favorite fringe BTTF headcanons. I saw this ask initially when it popped into my inbox a handful of days ago, but I wanted to have the time to sit and answer it in depth because it really is such an intriguing headcanon. I've only ever encountered it two or so times in the fandom (and one of those times was another ask I'd gotten last year), and I do enjoy exploring the less talked about theories.

I will put this under a read more, on account of I have lots of thoughts, as well as personal experience that allows me some particular insight into how this headcanon might play out for Marty. I'm not diabetic, but I do have a condition that causes a variety of fun issues, one being hypoglycemia. Basically, I have frequent episodes of low blood sugar and need to monitor my glucose level and keep it up by eating often. That being said! Some thoughts on the "Marty is diabetic" headcanon.

• My very first thought is: this kid better be prepared and have lots of supplies stuffed into the pockets of his many clothing layers because otherwise, he's in trouble. Honestly, this is the biggest barrier for me in terms of the headcanon. Marty is on a non-stop, adrenaline fueled ride for most of the trilogy. Between the constant running and chaos and sneaking around and life and death situations, he'd need to find the time during his day for finger pricks to check his blood sugar levels, staying on top of eating regularly, and injecting insulin. That means carrying a glucometer, a lancing device, lancets, alcohol wipes, test strips, syringes, and vials of insulin. He'd likely carry a bag or something that has all this in it.

• BUT! If he left his house that evening and ventured to the mall without any supplies (thinking it'd be a quick outing), one of his first priorities upon becoming stuck in 1955 would be acquiring whatever he needed. His first opportunity for that would be once he arrives at Doc's house and convinces him he's a time traveler. After getting Doc to believe him, Marty would have to be all, "Oh, and, uh, Doc? I really hope you have some medical doctor friends or something because we need to get our hands on some supplies. Like, now."

Then, on top of all the shock that came with being hurtled through time, Marty would have the additional challenge of adjusting to 1950s era diabetes management. No at home glucometer (those weren't available until 1981), and the syringes were large and made of metal. It'd be difficult, but not impossible, for Marty to manage the disease during his travels.

• For the purposes of this hc, let's assume he somehow brought along all his supplies stuffed into secret pockets in his puffy vest. Or, perhaps he uses a portable insulin pump, which became more widely available in the 1980s. It'd look something like this.

The end of the tube would have a needle that'd be inserted under the skin on his lower abdomen, and he'd be able to dose insulin that way. The device would have to be clipped to his pants somewhere. Not sure if Twin Pines McFlys would be able to access this new (and probably super expensive) device for their son. Maybe Doc makes one for him! I could totally see him doing that.

• Anyway, in terms of Marty turning down the peanut brittle, drinking sugar free Pepsi, and asking for something without sugar, it might or might not have anything to do with diabetes in this headcanon scenario. Contrary to what many think, diabetics (type 1 at least, which is what Marty would likely have) don't need to avoid sugar. They need to be mindful of sugar just as any other person should, but they generally don't have dietary restrictions. Sugar would for sure impact his glucose levels, and he'd have to be mindful of that, but as long as he balanced it with the appropriate amount of insulin, he'd be good to go.

It could be that Marty just wants to avoid having to account for extra insulin and avoid a potential spike, so he turns down some sugary foods every so often. Diabetics have to keep careful track of how many carbs they consume, as that determines how much insulin to inject, so if Marty already took his dose for dinner, for example, it'd make sense he'd say no to the peanut brittle even if he wanted it. Otherwise, he'd have to do another injection to cover the carbs from it, and who has the time for that when you're busy sulking over the wrecked car??

• Something Marty would really need to be careful about during all his adventures is making sure his blood sugar doesn't dip too low. High blood sugar isn't good, but low blood sugar (hypoglycemia) is actually more dangerous and considered an immediate emergency. Your blood sugar can be high and rise a good deal before you start to get negative health effects, but once your blood sugar dips below 70 mg/dL, you need to treat it right away. He'd need to be eating regularly, making sure his insulin is matching the amount he's eating, and ALSO factor in that physical activity makes blood sugar levels drop. And all that running he does? Yeah, he's gonna need snacks on hand.

You mentioned sleepiness being a symptom of low blood sugar, and you're right. But if Marty is at that point, it'd likely mean he'd be having a serious hypoglycemic episode. A "normal" blood sugar range is about 80-120, though meals will bring it higher for a bit before you level back out. Once you get below 70, your brain is literally being starved of glucose, which it needs to function. Very quickly, you get hit with a lot of symptoms. Blurry vision, trouble concentrating and speaking, tremors, profuse sweating, tiredness, rapid heart rate and breathing to name a few.

If you manage to catch it soon enough, you can treat the low on your own—by eating or drinking something high carb or taking some glucose tablets—but it's also very difficult to get a meal or some snacks when you're shaking like a leaf and can't even think straight. My blood sugar dipped to 49 the other week, and I went from feeling a little off to experiencing all those symptoms in a matter of a minute or two. For Marty to reach that level in the midst of trying to repair timelines would be difficult, to say the least. An untreated low will lead to unconsciousness, seizures, and even death.

Of course, if Marty is prepared, he'd know to snack during the day to keep himself stable. And I do imagine that '85 Doc's garage is stocked with snacks good for bringing up blood sugar (especially juice, which is one of the BEST ways to bring blood sugar up quickly. My fridge is filled with it.)

• I'm a little concerned about how Marty would fare in Part III, but I assume he'd be well prepared at that point. Let's assume that when Doc came to pick Marty up at the end of Part I, he already had a supply kit ready in the car (Doc absolutely would have a kit for "just in case" that he kept in his garage and brought along if they were going somewhere, and I think he'd have the foresight to bring it to the future). Marty could then have it still for his stay in 1955 while he and Doc prepared the DeLorean for the Old West, and he'd be able to have it for his time spent there in Part III. Very large kit, okay? Doc is super prepared. Although, now that I'm thinking about it, a kit like that would probably still be in the car when Doc gets zapped to the Old West, so....not sure about this one, friends. Let's hope Marty has some stuff in his pockets and that '55 Doc can then help him out in gathering more things together for his trek to 1885.

Well. I'd say I've gone on long enough. In conclusion: Diabetic Marty is a fascinating concept and, while it'd be difficult for him, he could conceivably manage it all during the trilogy if he's careful and has Doc looking out for him as well. There are lots of "missing scenes" and things we don't see in the movies, so Marty could be using that downtime for testing and injecting and guzzling down juice.

Thanks for the ask! This was a fun one.

[smilesrobotlover]

So insurance is a huge pain and it has been keeping me from getting my glucose monitor and my insulin pump so I’ve been doing diabetes care the old fashioned way which is…. So annoying, but I had to get a new meter because the one I brought to college with me for emergencies just like this for some reason doesn’t work cuz the strips aren’t going in, and look at absolutely tiny this mf is

[xd3str0yax]

Sweetheart

Diabetic teacher Steve & teacher Billy

Being a teacher was time consuming to say the least. Getting time alone during the day was a rare occurrence for him between classes and tutoring students during his off period and the students eating in his classroom during lunch. It was no secret that he was one of the more popular teachers.

What was a secret though, was why he always seemed to have his biceps covered. No matter the weather, he always made a clear effort to keep his upper arms hidden. That raised the question among his students: ‘what was Mr. Harrington hiding?’.

-•-•-•-

“How many times do I have to tell you two? Quit talking!” He typically didn’t mind his students whispering to each other during class but he’d been irritable the whole class period. “Now, I’ve noticed many of you are struggling with imagery in your essays. The key to effective imagery is good vocabulary…” He trailed off a bit as he spoke, feeling sick.

“Um�� go ahead and note imagery in your independent reading books.” He said as he sat down at his desk. The behavior change was noticed by the class but with how on edge he’d been, everyone decided to keep their mouths shut.

Steve broke his ‘no phones’ policy, using it to check his CGM: continuous glucose monitor. “Fuck.” He muttered, unfortunately loud enough to earn snickers from a few students near his desk. His blood sugar level was only 57 mg/dl, AKA, too low.

He opened up his snack drawer… empty. “Crap… this is fine, everything’s fine.” He whispered to himself. Lunch was in an hour, he could wait til then. He sipped his water, hoping it would help soothe his nausea. He rested his head on his desk, hoping his students wouldn’t notice how sick he looked.

15 minutes had gone by and he felt like he was spinning. He looked up, visibly pale & disoriented, as he heard a knock and the classroom door opening. The students looked worried as they eyed their haggard teacher and the stranger approaching him. They began quietly speaking amongst themselves, unsure of what was going on.

-•-•-•-

Being a middleschool art teacher was a more relaxed job than Billy expected. He gave a lesson at the beginning of class then gave his students the rest of the time to work. After those first 30 minutes of class, he mostly just watched the class and pretended not to find humor in the many penises the hoard of pre-teens created.

He was talking to a student about an art contest she had entered when an alarm went off on his phone. He interrupted himself and rushed to his desk to check his husband’s blood sugar.

Billy went to get a teacher to cover his class while he rushed to the highschool. He grabbed the emergency bag from his car and ran over. He knew Steve had a habit of neglecting himself but he still expected Steve to take care of it after the first two alerts. Now though, it was his time to take over.

-•-•-•-

“Bills? What’re you doing here?” Steve asked. “You cant keep doing this to yourself, sweetheart.” Billy stated, coming around the desk and kneeling in front of him. The brunette’s cheeks flushed a bit as he realized all eyes in the room were on them.

“Im fine, babe.” Steve weakly protested as Billy took a case out of the desk and unzipped it. “I’m not gonna let you have a seizure in front of a bunch of teenagers just because you’re stubborn.” He said as he pricked the other man’s finger and squeezed the blood onto the test strip.

Steve was embarrassed and he wanted to be upset with Billy for double checking his blood sugar in front of his class but he knew he was right. He tried to hide his face a bit, he hated when people saw him while managing his diabetes. Even after over a decade with it, he’s still just as shy about it now as he was as a kid.

His thoughts were interrupted by Billy handing him a bottle of apple juice & bag of pretzels, it was small but should get his blood sugar up enough so he doesn’t die while waiting for his lunch break. He finished the carbs and decided to introduce the living spectacle that was lingering in the room, waiting so they could get lunch together.

“Class… this is my husband Bi- Mr. Hargrove. He’s a teacher at the middle school and he’s gonna be staying the rest of the period.” He managed to resist the urge to call Billy by his first name and then gave him the floor.

Billy was slightly panicked as the rooms attention turned to him. He wasn’t good with teenagers, that’s the main reason he didn’t become a highscool teacher. “Uh, hi! I’m Billy- or Mr. Hargrove- either one’s fine. I’m an art teacher at the middle school right across the street.”

He paused for a moment and leaned back over to Steve. “Is it ok if I explain it to them?” He asked in a hushed voice. Once he got permission, he faced the class again. “Basically, Mr. Harrington’s body can’t regulate its blood sugar so sometimes it’ll get really low and he can pass out or have seizures or die, or it can get really high and stuff can build up in his blood and he can go into a coma or die.”

He started explaining the different types of diabetes while Steve kept an eye on his blood sugar, eating carbs accordingly. Honestly, he thinks its a bit cute: all the stuff Billy’s learned just to help take care of him. It would’ve been so easy for Billy to just leave him to deal with it alone but he didn’t.

He watched billy dreamily, a fond smile crept onto his face as he started tuning back in to the conversation. At some point, Billy’s rambling turned from diabetes to a debate with a student about basketball. He loves watching those blonde curls bounce as he gets more animated when he talks about things he’s passionate about.

Billy finished his debate and came back over to check Steve again. “You feeling better, sweetheart?” He asked as he checked the monitor again. A smile growing on his face as he saw it was a somewhat normal amount again. He pressed a gentle kiss to his husbands forehead as the bell rang.

[rainbowrosegames]

Gotta say, the worst part of diabetes is having to find something to eat even when you don't wanna eat. Because otherwise you risk a low and it feels terrible. For me anyway, lows (blood sugar 70mg/dl and below, 80 is just a little funky) feel like you're actively dying. Visions get blurry, a little harder to move, all that. You shut down.

What sucks even more, you can't even push through a full day of walking around at something like a museum or city. You gotta pack tons of snacks so you don't keel over and die or something. And pack emergency candies too.

This also adds to the need to carry a bag with you everywhere. If you have a Constant Glucose Monitor, you need to stay within 10-20 feet of it at all times so it doesn't lose signal. You need to pack your glucometer, Lancing stick, test strips, lancets. Your phone, your receiver, ketone test strips.

You need tons of water too if you get highs. Whats worse about that is if you're high (300 and up) you can't exercise because the body decides to defy the laws of everything and exercise instead of making you low, makes you higher.

And nobody ever talks about anything like this, any of the risks and complications of diabetes (like being prone to more infections which is even worse as a woman iykyk), they just stigmatize, and joke, and you just see vague diabetes medication ads that don't go into details, nothing.

[honorary-fool]

How I'd Imagine Type 1 Diabetes to be Handled in Teyvat

if anyone has any questions, comments, other ideas, etc, that they'd like to share, by all means go ahead!

possible cws/tws: mentions/non-gorey imagery of needles & cannulas, brief mentions of blood

insulin is made through [bio]alchemy ; I'm not specifically sure which branch would be most likely to take the genetic engineering approach (inspired by how it's made here, typically through genetic engineering or something called Recombinant DNA)

since Fontaine seems to be invention-creation central & the nation that comes out with new creations like the Kamera, they would be responsible for creation of the tech side of having t1d, such as insulin pumps

prior to them creating insulin pumps, insulin was only administered through manual injections (needle tw: 1 / 2)

Fontaine has created the Teyvat equivalents of the following diabetic supplies:

insulin pumps with tubing (1 / 2 / diagram)

lancet devices (which are used to prick yourself and draw blood in order to test your blood sugar) (1 / 2)

meters + testings strips to actually test your blood sugar (meter: 1 / 2 ; strips ; 1)

I doubt they'd be able to create all of the tech we use today, since they don't seem to have the wireless technology & bluetooth to make tubless pumps (1 ; the only tubeless one that exists at the moment is the Omnipod) or continuous glucose monitors (CGMS) (1 / 2- the sensor is on the left)

however, I'd like to think that if/when they do figure out the technology to actually make those, they'd be made around the same time

Misc. HCs

Lively Orlean is type 1 diabetic (to me) (she mentions her blood sugar being low and while non-diabetics can get hypoglycemic episodes/symptoms [which are caused by a low blood sugar],, come on /lh) (I'd say it's canon but I fear getting yelled at even if I'm right /lh)

Baizhu, being a pharmacist who most definitely sells insulin, is very knowledgeable on diabetes- 1, 2, and the sub-categories-that-idk-much-abt-and-therefore-won't-list

going off vibes alone I'd like to think Verr Goldett also is very familiar with it

maybe either a family member/friend of hers has it, or she herself has it

I think Barbara knows the basics at best but is learning quite a bit about it, primarily how to help treat hypoglycemic / hyperglycemic episodes, Ketoacidosis, and how to administer glucagon

[caltropspress]

DEBRIEFING: 5 August 2023 | Brooklyn, NY | The Nursery at Public Records

Armand Hammer’s We Buy Diabetic Test Strips Pop Up Party, featuring Fatboi Sharif, Cavalier, and DJ Haram

On the helix approaching the Lincoln Tunnel I saw a Virginia plate that read PHUNKE—its occupants seemed anything but, but who am I to judge? Not since I saw EGO DETH on a Volkswagen Kombi in the artificial light of the Holland while driving in to see woods’ Church release show at Baby’s All Right in early June have I taken a license plate as a sign. Fred Moten writes that “the sign works its terrible magic precisely from within a radical non-isolation,” but it’s a bit too early in the everyday struggle for theory, wouldn’t you agree? What I’m focused on is the WE BUY DIABETIC TEST STRIPS signs plastered over walls and poles. A sight as common in NYC as POST NO BILLS and CA$H FOR CAR$. We close our eyes to these signs, oblivious to their ubiquity. We’ve become blind to them. But I saw the sign with “Armand Hammer” appended to it, and it opened up my eyes. Life is demanding without understanding. So I overstand the signs and signals sent through wires and cables when I dial 1-877-ARM-N-HMR. I focus. I fixate. I study Alexander Richter’s photograph from the forthcoming album of a lamppost covered in taped and torn flyers. The edges fray and flicker in city winds. Looks like the tendons and flesh rotting from the bones of Death in Hans Baldung Griend’s Der Tod und das Mädchen (1517) painting. Looks like some real litter-ature. Gathering on August 5th, just six days shy of hip-hop’s much-heralded 50th anniversary, I think of hip-hop flyers of the past, specifically Kool Herc’s Back to School Jam at 1520 Sedgwick. But MC Debbie D—a flyerologist of the highest order—tells us that the index card flyer is a phony, a fake, a fugazi replica, a forgery. Fifty years into this thing and we’re still searching for authentic experiences. Fifty people at a rap show and one’s an informant. I’m here to inform on what felt—brain to bone—like an authentic experience.

3PM in the sun. I lined up with the other RSVPs (the show was free, in every sense of the word) outside the venue. Summer summer summertime. Fresh Prince via Juice shit. The temp on my dash read 90°. Kids walked down Butler Street mantled with beach towels from the Douglass and DeGraw Pool. Spotted lanternflies dive-bombed my legs. Thank god I lotioned my pale neck. When the powers-that-be finally allowed us entry, the musk of maryjane and malignant body odor was thick. Now I knew (it hit me in the fucking face) what that PHUNKE license plate was all about. “Funk,” from the French dialectal funkière: “to blow smoke on.” I’m not complaining, though—it was a communal fumigation. We were funky technicians, one and all.

“The Nursery” that Public Records has built falls somewhere between greenhouse and Zen garden. The square space is essentially an urban enclosure where pine and plane trees and fresh lumber create a private performance patio, a paradise just beyond the concertina wire, as woods might say. The stage is bedecked with potted cacti, while I spied A. Richter across the way with his Fujifilm GA645Zi amongst the bamboo stalks. ELUCID’s green Champion mesh football jersey (the Bo Jackson jersey in the laundry, apparently) matched the soundsystem monitors, and I found what little shade there was to be had and huddled close to the soundman’s booth, a shed of glass. I almost managed to forget I was cordoned off by beige shipping containers. 

It wasn’t long before I was entertaining the idea of going full Fatboi Sharif, i.e., shirtless. Sharif himself only made it through half his set before shedding his garb—there wasn’t even a hospital gown in sight. The heat was on as soon as he came out to Can Ox’s “Scream Phoenix”—rising from flames. El-P’s Phillip Glass sample could’ve easily made a Sharif beat (we’re only talking a single generation removal, really). Sharif made quick work of some of his most recent altered realities. “Static Vision” included a call [I ain’t scared!] and response [Motherfucker, I ain’t scared!]. He ran through “Phantasm,” “Dimethyltryptamine,” “Designer Drugs,” “Think Pieces,” and “The Christening” like a buxom blonde through an abandoned building, revving chainsaw in pursuit. At times, his speech slurred into a makeshift Swahili (word to This Heat). It was strange to see Sharif in daylight, sunstruck, as I’m so used to seeing him in blood-flooded cellars or Joseph Conrad’s heart of darkness environs, like he alludes to on “Dimethyltryptamine.” He barreled through ventricles, riding shotgun in Sir Menelik’s Space Cadillac. DJ Boogaveli (who hypes up Sharif like it’s a pep rally at Springwood High) shouted about family at the start of “The Christening,” which sounded sincere compared to the tone Sharif takes on Decay—there the family must be of the Manson or Duggar milieu. He finished the track acapella, exhausting the last of his energy, only to reinvigorate and reanimate for a rioting rendition of “Smithsonian.”

I’ve yet to invest the necessary time into Cavalier’s work, though I know him from his association with Quelle Chris. With an album coming down the pike from Backwoodz, I found myself in the lucky position of witnessing his set incapable of discerning old material from new. He took centerstage, acting as his own hype-man and DJ (though he did high-five the invisible “DJ Light-skin” at one point), and his kineticism was immediately apparent. His floral button-down danced over his body as he rapped vitally. I felt vivisected by his exhortations and incisive observations. Keep in mind, my age prohibits me from becoming enthralled by any performer whose work I’m unfamiliar with—a sort of neuropathy of the soul. But he had me open and endeared by the time he implored, Put the tiger balm on it, put the tiger balm. As you wish, Cav. I lathered my chest.

“Y’all believe in magic? No? That’s okay.” Cav said it so quickly that he didn’t give anyone a chance to answer, but he assumed correctly, I think. Still, I was smitten by his conjurations—he made me a believer (no small task). “King me,” he rapped, “I’m trying to make it all across the board.” And, by the end of it, he had the entire crowd shouting “KING ME” back at him without a problem. MAKE SOME BLOODCLOT NOISE! he growled, and we didn’t need to be asked twice. IT’S VIBRATIONAL, AIN’T IT? With a seemingly innocuous phrase he was able to summon the spirit of the crowd. Over the course of his 25-minute set, I heard him rhyme epiglottis, brag of spitting a verse while performing cunnilingus, give a lesson on homophones, and regale us with stories of winking at cops in Whole Foods. “From the Tree of Life I smoke foliage,” he said, and the trees Betty Smith saw grow in Brooklyn circulated through his lungs. “We need to bring back weed spots—it’s not nostalgia.” Though he did rap nostalgically at times, letting us know he was born in BK, went to school not far from where we stood, and though he’s representing the 504 now, Brooklyn born-and-raised ossified his being into bone.

THIS IS CHURCH, YA FEEL ME? And I did feel him. I spent the week culling quotes about improvisation from Amiri Baraka’s Black Music (1967) for another self-assignment (I don’t work for anyone, son), and highlighted this passage: “...to go back in any historical (or emotional) line of ascent in Black music leads us inevitably to religion, i.e., spirit worship. This phenomenon is always at the root in Black art, the worship of spirit—or at least the summoning of or by such force.” [Peace to Kehinde Alonge—always at the ready with choicest recommendations.] Cavalier danced upon the altar and rapped his sermon relentlessly, tirelessly. I was raised up on tippy-toes, enthralled by the force of his spirit. THIS AIN’T JAZZ?! he asked. WHAT THE FUCK THEY TALKIN’ ABOUT MAN? I don’t know who’s doing that sort of talking, but they’d be hard-pressed to say such a thing in this public gathering. “Brooklyn, this is how it feels—all of us together: this is how it feels.” I believed in Cavalier’s magic by the end of his set. I was charmed by his satchel of High John de Conqueror. Let me know where to Venmo my tithe. 

The heat index had my vision tunneling. When Armand Hammer stepped on stage, sounds were moving in reverse, and the Class-A dynamite duo took us back (way back) in time, when ELUCID was in “fifth grade in [his] dad jeans” and he “played Game Boy in the backseat.” woods, with his first words of the afternoon, said he “rather be codependent than co-defendants.” This must’ve been “Landlines,” the lead-off from the new album, seeing as how they shouted-out JPEGMAFIA, ELUCID rapped “leave a message after the beep,” and a dial tone toned between verses. It was off the hook, as they say.

They seemed to be following the official We Buy Diabetic Test Strips tracklist, because next up was “Woke Up and Asked Siri How I’m Gonna Die” (a song with a title so long that it must’ve come from the magnum mind of ELUCID). She replied, she replied, she replied… they repeated, but I didn’t quite catch what that chatbotbitch said. woods refashioned a line from “Remorseless” with “Life’s a blip, I’m swimming under the radar.” Life’s a blip and then you die, that’s why we puff lye. Further deepening the uncanny valley, their third offering to the musty masses included “fake trees in the Apple Store.” I’m sensing something about the excesses of tech after a cursory listen to these WBDTS tracks, the detritus and pollution it produces. To quote my damn self, something in line with “...a cell tower with evergreen branches: / …a drone with seagull feathers.” ELUCID revived “a double portion of protection for [him] and [his] niggas,” explaining he’s “trying to only say what’s necessary.” By any means, sir. 

Cavalier was welcomed back to the stage for “I Keep A Mirror in My Pocket,” another new joint with Preservation on production. We the audience felt, collectively, like we were in the belly of the beast—those shipping container walls (a real Season 2 of The Wire sensation)—as Cav chorused and signified about the Big Bad Wolf. A cautionary tale, indeed. I can see clearly how Cavalier fits within the Backwoodz cadre. 

The content of the next number left no question of its title. “Niggardly (Blocked Call),” if I was asked to predict, will be the cynosure of the new album. (Yeah, you heard me right dog, I said cynosure.) Produced by August Fanon (who was in the place to be—a rare appearance from an elusive mastermind who would humbly demur if you called him such, I’m supposing), the song has an R0 = 15 infectious hook: “Admittedly niggardly, I won’t even give these niggas bad energy.” woods, what with his penchant for scales and measurements, boils everything “down to the last red cent.” How does he do it? Well, MY HEART PUMP KETAMINE, he yells. We find woods in one of his ruthless, no Vaseline moods: “I eat knowing I’m starving my enemies.” Revenge is like the sweetest joy next to spending time with your kids, and woods picked up where his verse from “As the Crow Flies” left off. He closed his eyes and rapped to the rafters and the sky:

I write when my baby’s asleep, I sit in the room, in the dark, I listen to him breathe, I walk him to school and then the park,  Hold they little hands while we cross the street, I think about my brother who is long gone, And this is all he ever dreamed.

ELUCID and woods repeated admittedly niggardly back-and-forth at the end, delighted with the wordplay. 

They kept riding the August Fanon beatwork like Thomas Sankara in the Renault 5 as the killer chords from “Smile Lines” crept in. The crowd response was screw-faced sneers and shouted lyrics. One youngblood knew the song front to back, beginning to end—ELUCID acknowledged him from the stage: “Peace to the homie out there—he knew every word, man.” I watched the dude beam from the compliment. Even after writing profusely—profusely (fuck Caltrops and his non-existent editor, here comes the predator…)—about woods and ELUCID, I still can’t memorize their lines. Chalk it up to some neurological incapacity that arrived in my 30s. I envy those who commit songs like “Smile Lines” and “Smith + Cross” to memory. My not-so-supple gray matter just can’t cut it anymore.

My expectations for We Buy Diabetic Test Strips were upended by the tracks they debuted. I’d speculated an abrasive noise event; a Sheet Metal Music for the new millennium we’ll never reach; a kind of Schoolly D “P.S.K.” FML swagger. There’s certainly elements of that, just not as much as I was anticipating. (And who knows what noise the as-yet-unheard tracks might bring.) I assumed the shared space with Soul Glo over the past several years, the screechings zapped through the receiver on the toll-free number, and their recent appearance on Shapednoise’s Absurd Matter would be an indication of the Shape of Rap to Come. Speaking of which, woods sludged through his verse from “Family” before DJ Haram’s scrapyard percussion ushered in “Trauma Mic.” 

Haram was at the helm for the entirety of Armand Hammer’s set, and she reveled and felt every ounce of her own beat. The buzzsaw sounds were like Baraka’s description of Don Ayler’s trumpet: “long blasts…in profound black technicolor.” ELUCID’s traumatized mic draped over his shoulder for the opening anvil strikes. He needed his hands free to clap in rhythm. The gesture was reminiscent, again, of Baraka’s analysis of the saxophone held by Albert Ayler (the elder Ayler), “a howling spirit summoner tied around the ‘mad’ Black man’s neck.”

The “Trauma Mic” video had me thinking on thematics of refuse and rubbish—you best protect your dreck. I thought back to the garbology Aesop sifted through, where I saw Bakunin’s barricades in the city streets and revisited the actions of The Motherfuckers in the late ’60s—they stood in solidarity with striking sanitation workers and dumped garbage at the doorstep of Lincoln Center. Armand Hammer—outfitted as scrappers, pitching barrels and coiling skeins of copper wire—are of the same spirit. They propose a cultural exchange of garbage for garbage.

woods bodied “No Hard Feelings” and was joined by damn-near the entire crowd. Had it sounding like a tenant revolt as we all screamed, LIKE THEY STEALING! The Aethiopes track equals, if not outright overtakes, “Asylum” and “Remorseless” as most affecting in the past year’s blitz of performances. 

ELUCID stood on the precipice, at the edge of the stage, as he rapped through “Barbarians.” He went swimming into the crowd with his free arm, astro-spiritually. The refrain of “Who the fuck are you?” evolved from the accusatory tone heard on Rome to an existential “Who the fuck am I?” ELUCID and woods bandied the question between them like two college kids in the dorms at 2AM, faded as fidduck. The “intelligent fist” of woods and the “mysticism” of ELUCID (to use an equation Baraka applied to Milford Graves and Sonny Murray) working together to produce a manic mix. They kept the marriage going through “Mangosteen” before turning to the heliocentric worlds they invented in collaboration with the Alchemist on Haram. “Black Sunlight” and “Falling Out the Sky” had me thinking of Baraka (again!): “It only takes two to start a group. If the two are maturely strong, and have a oneness, then the others will feel it and touch their own sound, voice, or whatever.”

ELUCID’s last solo number was “Spellling,” and by then he was spent but still perseverating in the dopest way possible. “This is a physical experience,” ELUCID said as the song began, asking the soundman to turn the volume up higher. IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII been spelling, he spoketh [an ever ever elongated I and a shot-to-the-dome of “been”]. The I Told Bessie opener became what Baraka calls “an antiphonal rhythmic chant-poem-moan.” ELUCID’s voice was ragged by this point, a metallic scrape as he shouted about being “your momma’s favorite, since about ’88, ’89.” The down in “just got to heaven and I can’t sit down” was made malleable in how he twisted it around in his mouth. Split tongue heavy lifting.

He had nothing left when the alarming squeal whistle warp of “Stonefruit” started to play. But the audience assisted, screaming with him I REALLY CAME IN ON A CYCLONE as his voice gave out. woods jumped in early when it was his turn, which proved a moment of levity. To err is human, and woods—despite the adoration he’s been receiving—is endearingly human. That humanity is probably why so many of Armand Hammer’s fans have become zealous collectors, showing up at the venue with cardboard boxes full of vinyl, willing to wait patiently for woods and ELUCID to write their names in metallic Sharpies on these their prized possessions. “First Armand Hammer show in the states in a while,” woods said at one point. “Small flex,” ELUCID noted, chuckling. But they brought it home on Saturday. It was “As the Crow Flies” made manifest. woods brought all the Backwoodz family on stage at the conclusion of their set. The family atmosphere afforded by the 3PM start time was embellished by the sight of children on shoulders. It had the feel of a triumphant affair. It’s winning, it’s winning, it’s winning…

Peace to the conversations that were had with Alex Richter, Willie Green, Max Heath, and Sharif.

Photos credit:  Rory Simms

AH setlist:

1.  Landlines 2.  Woke Up and Asked Siri How I’m Gonna Die 3.  [???] 4.  I Keep A Mirror In My Pocket 5.  Niggardly (Blocked Call) 6.  Smile Lines 7.  Family 8.  Trauma Mic 9.  No Hard Feelings 10.  [???] 11.  Barbarians 12.  Mangosteen 13.  Black Sunlight 14.  Falling Out the Sky 15.  Spellling  16. Stonefruit

[ceridwyn2]

New Diagnosis

Thoughts for the day (12 July 2023)

So yesterday I went to see my Nurse Practitioner for a belated appointment - missed the last one. Went through some of the bloodwork as my sugars have been elevated for a while so now I have a diagnosis of Type II Diabetes. In a way it’s not surprising - both my parents have the same diagnosis. I’d been losing weight (~15lbs) in 6 months without trying. My NP has put me on Metformin (250mg twice a day to start for 2 weeks, then 500mg twice a day), and testing sugars 2-3 times a day to get an idea of what time of day my sugars are spiking.

I picked up the meds and the Diabetic supplies (monitor, lancets, test strips, sharps container) and started them yesterday. Have the monitor syncing to my phone so I can more easily track testing. I’m so used to having regular sodas and the like (sweet tooth), so I’ve started trying limit sugar intake - body not used to that, bit of a shock to the system. And I can’t drink diet sodas because of the aspartame - I’m allergic - it triggers migraines. So not only a change in dietary intake needed, a new mindset is needed. Will see how this goes.

I also got some more pain prescription medication (Naproxen 500mg) for carpal tunnel syndrome to take on an as needed basis when I have flare-ups.

[medicalsupplyca]

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[muppetmagic]

Hehehe. Hi. Saw your tags on my post and would love to hear your own headcanons for T1 Marty. It's an interesting one to ponder for sure!

*chuckles evilly* oh boy, of course!!! i truly end up headcanoning any character i like with t1 diabetes for the soul reasoning of 'well, SOMEONE has to!'

SO!! marty mcfly with type 1 diabetes! where do i even begin! well, i will say that as i am a bttf musical enthusiast, im mainly gonna focus on that instead of movies 2 +3, just because im not AS familiar with them as i am the first movie and a musical!

so, join me under the cut for a LOT of thoughts and headcanons...i have a lot to say lol like a LOT a lot...i apolgise lol

so, i think marty was diagnosed with t1 when he was around 9-10, and was doing ye olde pee-on-a-stick method of blood sugar testing, which was a super inaccurate way of doing it BUT it was either that of nothing in the mid-to-late 70's. he would have always been taking one injection of insulin and just praying it all worked out around that dkjdfjk ah, the joys of early diabetes treatment!

i like it think marty is like me in the sense that i naturally have blood sugars that tend to be on the higher side, and because it wasn't a thing to treat a high blood sugar with more insulin back then, it's why he took up skateboarding!! exercise gets that blood sugar down and his brother, dave, let marty use a skateboard that he had been gifted and never used. thus, marty started skating and just really fucking liked it!

as he got older and all that, and blood glucose monitors became a thing, AND marty became friends with doc, things did a pretty quick turn around in regards to how he treated stuff. doc would've gotten one look at the medieval torture device looking stuff marty was carrying around in his backpack and gone 'nope, i can make this a lot easier!' and basically invented a more modern version of a bgm - u prick ur finger with the lancet, put ur blood onto a calibrated strip into the machine and get a reading! although, i believe it would be less accurate for obvious reason. more likely that you'd either get a 'HIGH' 'LOW' OR 'REGULAR'.

in regards to insulin, as i mentioned earlier, marty would've been on one daily injection for most of his childhood. which is a real annoyance, bc it means ur meals have to happen at certain times with certain amount of carbs. by the time we meet marty in the movies/musical in 1985, he most likely would've just become aware of insulin pens - they legit came out that year lol BUT because i think doc is out here being a disability activist, marty might have received one a lil earlier and without the big ol' price tag attached to it lol so he would've been taking multiple injections a day by the time we meet him!

YES, i use doc as a scapegoat to give marty nicer treatment options!!! he deserves it!! if u have a friend who is a mad scientist, then of COURSE ur gonna abuse that to try and get new and improved and FREE medical equipment! so, i think marty has this stuff in his pockets alongside his walkman lol

i also think the reason marty is known to be as such of a slacker as he is is because besides all the sick days he would have taken, he's also known for sneaking out of class and/or showing up late to take his blood sugars or take his insulin.

the idea of marty having an insulin pump is also something i really like! again, i think doc was able to get his hands on one and rejigged it to fit into the shell of a walkman, which would be great for stealth lol. for me, this applies a lot more to my headcanons relating musical!marty. basically, i think movie!marty has insulin pens, and i think musical!marty has a pump. idk why, i just do djkdfkj i just think musical!doc would

SOOOO, marty in the 50's!! of course, we get marty on the hunt for ANYTHING to drink without sugar - and that's very relatable lol, again as someone with naturally higher blood sugars, i also tend to just find it 100 times easier to have low sugar options than use up SOOO much insulin! but in terms of how tf he's gonna make it thru a week when it comes to insulin, i think because he was meeting doc at the mall so early in the morning, he threw an extra vial or two in his pockets just in case. marty can never be too sure what's going to happen when he meets up w/ doc lol i also think musical!young lorraine would've been DEEPLY confused about what tf all this stuff attached to this boy she has straight up undressed is, and honestly she probably just ripped his infusion site straight out on accident so marty probably returned to injections anyways - but with is 80's sensibilities on how diabetes WORKS and how it's treated, he would've been pretty on top of everything. he would've just had to use those fugly giant syringes. flop!!

once returning to '85 in the new timeline, nothing would have changed w/ marty diabetes bc, well, he would've been diabetic anyways! his parents would be a lot more supportive, a lot bigger disabilitiy activists - i think george mcfly definitely has a diabetic character in his novels! and lorraine is on the pta board FIGHTING for the rights of disabled students BIG TIME, while in the og timeline i imagine they were very much in the mind set of not talking about marty's diabetes bc they saw it as shameful or somehow their fault. catch the mcfly family car having a bumper sticker that says 'someone i love has type 1 diabetes!'

so YEAH, i think that's everything that came to mind for me! musical!marty is defs more the muse of my diabetic headcanon, i think just bc im currently obsessed w/ it so im projecting onto him harder but, BASICALLY;

tl;dr: marty has t1, in the movie he uses insulin pens that he gets from doc, in the musical he uses an insulin pump that doc decked out to make a lot cooler and both verses use a blood glucose monitor that the doc made a lot more compact. ALSO, just for the hell of it - fuck it! jennifer is diabetic too! they knew each other from school but really met at the hospital while they were waiting for diabetes clinic appointments and they bonded lol!

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

To the geniuses who design blood glucose monitors,

if you're gonna design a product that runs on button cell batteries that only come in safety packaging, for the love of all that is good in this world, don't just stop at making the battery compartment spring loaded. Include a battery status monitor that gives a warning before someone needs to get their fasting blood sugar and has potentially already stabbed themselves and wasted a test strip.

Just a little beep after the last viable test will do.

Yes, I know CGMs exist. They are, at the time of writing, not accurate enough to do away with their predecessors unless someone is only diabetic and taking only diabetes medication. And 35 bucks a week. And defeated by bluetooth errors.

Kind regards, Massive side eye,

Done with this shit

[silvermoon424]

If you can get it the dexcom glucose monitoring makes it much easier to catch hypoglycemia earlier before it becomes serious (not entirely but often). Don't know type 1 vs 2 for you but honestly imo shouldn't matter. An app on your phone so easy to see whenever and it shows trends.

I have type 2! The good news is that my employer actually offers an excellent diabetes monitoring program as part of my benefits; I just signed up and I'll be getting a glucose monitor, unlimited testing strips/lancets, and an app to monitor everything completely free of charge.

[economeduk]

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