Stereotyping part fifty million.

Another big problem I have with the autistic civil rights movement in its current incarnation is that one group seems to believe its view of itself should be applied to all groups. A good example of this in recent months is a publication called Loud Hands. You see, there is a stereotype, based largely on diagnostic criteria and psychologist writing, that has it that autistic individuals rock about like badly-made chairs or wave their hands about like a six year old who has watched too many rap star videos.

Put simply, my (condition) is worsening.

I think that we can all agree that the Human dental system is one of the many things that the species needs to evolve out. Fear not, I will not spend too much time in this article talking about dentistry. It is only important to set up what I wish to talk about in the rest of this writing.

More musings about hypoglycaemia.

I have a confession to make. I used to try to reduce my blood sugar as much as I possibly could before going to sleep in order to make it vaguely possible for me to even sleep. Ever sat up for hours at night with a feeling like your mouth is filled with vomit and the skin around your lips has become encrusted shit? That is basically the feeling I get when I lie in bed at night with a blood sugar even slightly to the North of 10.0 mmol/l.

Hypoglycaemia: drunk is more fun than this.

One of the films that I have a sort of love-hate relationship with is the Bill Murray-starring black comedy Groundhog Day. I will not go into what that film is about, except to say that on the first occasion when Murray‘s character gets an awfully heightened sense of deja vu, he is asked by his producer if he is drunk. His response is, and I quote, “Drunk’s more fun than this”.

Adventures in ignorance, aka Queensland. Part one of many.

On the evening of Thursday, March 29, at approximately 1830 hours, I was feeling dizzy, ill, and congested. My blood sugar was slightly below 4.0 mmol/l, but against my better judgement, I decided to take a walk and try to clear my head. That proved a costly mistake when as I closed the door, I realised that I had forgotten to take the housekeys with me.