Small mercies, but very small ones

Even the diabetes books don't tell you how rubbish having diabetes actually is, and I suspect it gets even worse if you have any of the complications that can come about from having it ill-controlled.

I visited my optician yesterday. The bad news is that my prescription is out of date – my right eye has changed again. My eyes always change from one appointment to the next; that's why I can't have lasik or any of those nice things. But she won't issue new glasses until my diabetes is under control. This is not entirely bad news – I am thus saved £300 – but it does mean that I'm sometimes struggling to see properly.

Next week she will do a diabetic retinopathy test. She insists. So I've booked it in for the latest appointment she'll reasonably do it, which is 3pm.

Meanwhile, this morning, I get a letter from the local NHS clinic, for, guess what? A diabetic retinopathy test. And yes, I have to go to both; they won't rely on my optician to notify my doctor. The second test is on 5 July and it's in the morning, so I've booked the afternoon off as leave. I suppose I can listen to a talking book while being unable to see properly. Or even less properly than I can already see. If you see what I mean.

Plus, Tesco, bless their little cotton socks, did not send me sufficient salad to keep me going until the weekend so what I'm going to eat, I don't know.

Friday, I have to go to the dentist and I'm shaking in my shoes. I don't know what he'll find as I haven't been for more than two years.

OK, first world problems. I know there are people who would give their eye teeth to have my life.