Not been posting...

Ah. Posting. Well, I just haven't felt much like it lately. I have had a horrible cold and cough. Feel like poo. Most of what I have felt like doing lately is sleep. I have been coughing so hard that I can't catch my breath. Then I end up dizzy and light headed. Yuck! Seems a bit better this morning. I hope it is going the other way. I have also been keeping really busy with appointments almost every day. We had a lot of appointments for Amanda last week. This week is full with appointments for everybody. I haven't even peeked at next week yet. I do know I have a diabetes support group and the diabetes forum meeting next week. Mid-June I have two health fairs in one week. I'm really worried about John. He has the same cold I have. He doesn't have the cough as bad but he looks so run down. These 10 hour days are really catching up to him with this cold. He is getting too tired. He has been getting some minor injuries at work. I know it is because he is too run down. I just keep praying that he keeps the injuries to minor ones. Yesterday he caught his belly between two sheets of steel. He doesn't even have a big belly. I told him he better be careful or he was going to catch something else between two sheets of steel. He told me it was nowhere near getting caught between the sheets of steel. I reminded him that his belly is pretty flat and is only a few inches away from that part. I told him I didn't want to hear it come over the scanner that they needed an ambulance at Brownsville Marine for some guy with his you know what smashed between sheets of steel. Just last week he didn't get his thumb out of the way of a chain in time. He actually thought it had taken his thumb off. Fortunately, it didn't. He really needs some down time to get over this. I know I am not doing the heavy work he is doing and I am having a hard time functioning.

Sex and candy

Here we go with the part of my life I don't remember very well, life after Bill. There are parts that I remember quite clearly and parts that I know I just can't remember. High school was over. I started hanging out a lot with Reine. Reine and I went out together and picked up boys. She was never far away during these years. I loved her to pieces and still do. We had met back in that Christian school and had kept loose contact during high school. Reine was attending a Christian college and it was very strict. I think her rebellion was tied into that. My rebellion came from just not caring about anything anymore. Diabetes was a pain in the ass. I hated having it. I hated being different. I never tested. I lied about it. I ate whatever I wanted when my parents weren't looking. I sometimes didn't take my shot. I dreaded every single poke. I simply pretended it wasn't there. By now I had twice been forbidden to see a certain boy that I cared about. The first was Don. My parents forbid me to see him because they found out we were having sex. It hurt some, but Don and I were ready to move on, I think. I would have preferred to still speak to him though. And, well you know the story of Bill. Eating sugar and having sex appeared to be the two worst things I could do in the eyes of the adults around me. So, pass the donuts and where did you say you parked the car? During this period of time there were a string of boys that I had sex with. To be honest, I don't remember most of them. I was reminded of one that I had completely forgotten about a few years back. I read his name in the newspaper. He had been driving under the influence and was involved in an accident and his wife was killed. I had forgotten that I had even met him until then. Lots of "don't remembers" during these years. There were some boys that I remember quite clearly. Some I remember just because I do. Some I don't think of often but I could recall them if I tried. Some I remember because they mattered more to me. One young man in particular stands out in my memory. I wasn't in love with him, but I did like him a whole lot. He was my boyfriend for awhile, but my friend for quite a while longer. Lou (which is not what he goes by now) is not one of the ones I wish I could erase. I ran into him recently and we talked and had a few laughs. He's still a nice guy and I'm sure his wife is lucky to have him. (most of the time) Lou was a huge KISS fan. Lou had Christmas lights on the ceiling of his bedroom. Lou's mother didn't like me. I remember Lou's VW Rabbit that ran on deisel. He drove it through the woods, darting around trees, up to the water tower. It was nice sitting up at the water tower talking to Lou. Lou liked to tell me spooky stories and Lou took me to "The Gates of Hell". Lou and I had quite a sexual relationship. It carried on occassionally after we broke up. After sex we ate like hogs. That was not good for my blood sugar. Lou was the first person with which I went to a motel. Lou also was with me during some pretty bad diabetes related times. Once he thought I was dead. My blood sugar was high and I started to vomit while on a date with him. He took me to the hospital and called my mother. He stayed with me in the emergency room. He actually thought I died in the ER that day. He thought he was going to have to tell my mother that I died while out on a date with him. I was then admitted to the Intensive Care Unit. Lou never missed visiting me for a day. Only family was allowed in but he managed to get the nurses to let him in. One day he brought his friend Rick to see me. Some days he would hold me on the chair in my room. When he decided it was time for him to break up with me I was sad, but I still liked him. I am pretty sure he still liked me. We often spent time together as friends after that. When I recently encountered him at a Christian rock concert he told me that he doesn't allow his daughter to wear eyeliner. That is one of the funniest things I have ever heard considering he was the king of wearing eyeliner. You had to hide your eyeliner if you didn't want him to take it. He does have a very lovely family and I'm sure his wife must be wonderful and very patient! But he was a nice young man and I am sure he is still a nice man and I'm sure a good husband and father. It was nice to see him again. (but there were no sparks of the old romantic kind at all)

Well, right now I have to stop writing. I have a lot of things to do today. This period may take several postings to get through. It's a mixed bag. Some good memories are in there along with some bad and some that I just can't remember. There are some things that I remember quite clearly that I am not going to write. Those things could potentially cause problems in the lives of other people involved if members of thier family found this blog.

Memories of Bill

Ah, the name Bill. It still brings tears to my eyes. I have definately fallen in love with John and wouldn't trade him, but Bill was something special. It was my senior year of high school. The first day of school I spotted him. There was something about him that just took my breath away every time I saw him. The thing was, he was only a freshman. I later found out just how much younger he was than me, 2 years, 6 months, 13 days. Not so bad now, big difference in high school, especially when the girl is older. Bill didn't look like a freshman. A few weeks went by and I would catch a glimpse of him here and there. He always had his black leather bag that he used to carry his books. I can still remember the smell of that bag. I remember the day we first spoke. We were in the hallway near the office. We should have both been in class. We started talking and exchanged phone numbers. I was having high blood sugars that day so I went in to see the nurse. My hands were sweating and shaking and I could hear my heart beating. No boy had ever caused that much of a reaction in me. My parents came to school to pick me up since my blood sugar was high. I went home and hoped he would call me when he got home. He couldn't have been home long when the phone rang. I found out the one thing I didn't want to hear. He had a girlfriend, but she didn't go to our school. We talked for hours though and laughed a lot. Then his call waiting beeped. Hold on. So, he comes back on and tells me it is his girlfriend and he has to go. So we say good bye. I lay down on my bed and feel so many mixed emotions. I felt so good about talking to him and so down about him having a girlfriend. Half an hour passed and the phone rang again. Bill again. He broke up with his girlfriend. He said he felt things when he talked to me that he never felt with her. At that point Bill and I became inseparable. (or so we thought) Every moment we could we were together. If we couldn't be together we were on the phone. If we couldn't be on the phone we were thinking about when we could be together or at least speak again. When I was with Bill, there was nothing wrong in the world. Bill and I were always laughing. I remember the time we went to Giant Eagle with my mother. She was shopping for groceries and we were being silly as usual. It was near St. Patrick's Day. We found the green novelty items on display in the store. Yes, 2 green beanies with propellers on top, a green bow tie for Bill and a green garter for me. We adorned ourselves with these in the store and snuck up on my mother. She bought the green stuff. We wore it all to school the next day. I have so many memories of Bill. So many memories of him being here, where I live now, visiting my grandparents. I have so many memories of him being at my parents house. I have a few memories of being at his house, the gray one on the corner of Wine Street. We didn't go to his house often. His mother was a beautiful thing, but sometimes she got mad. When she got mad the Arabic would fly. Bill used to say, "I love you, my sweet." to me in Arabic. I still remember it. Bill had two brothers. Tony was a few years younger than Bill and Alan was a baby. I think he was two. Alan called Bill, Bobo. I remember sitting on the floor, watching tv in Bill and Tony's room when little Alan would come running through in his little blue footie pj's. Then he would climb on us and give us hugs and kisses before Vicky put him to bed. Then one day, out of the blue, Bill was not home when I called. Vicky said he was at Jeff's house. OK. He usually told me when he was going over to a friend's so I could do what I wanted until he came back. He didn't come home until late. The phone finally rang. (Now is when the tears still start to come.) His mother found one of our little notes. We often joked in a note about "sex on top the lockers". It was actually a reference to something someone once said. We found it completely funny because the tops of the lockers were extremely sloped. If anyone even attempted that they were most likely going to cause great bodily harm to themselves. We were not having a sexual relationship. We had made the decision to wait until we were both older. I had also just had my eighteenth birthday. His mother was forbidding him to even speak to me again. She did not even want us to be able to say good bye face to face. He was strictly forbidden any further contact with me. He was not allowed to do anything at all except go to school and she had an answer for keeping us apart at school too. She paid kids to spy on us to be sure we were not talking at school. My heart was breaking. The dreams Bill and I had of one day getting married and building a house on top of the hill behind my parents house were crushed. The house we planned was so vividly created by us that I can still picture what it would have been like. Both of us longed for the chance to at least say good bye. So through friends that we trusted to not be in on his mother's scheme we set a plan. Meet in the gymnasium under the bleachers during fifth period the next day. I put on my new blue and white striped skirt that morning. I wanted to look nice to see him that one last time. When I sneaked into the gymnasium, he was already there. We gave each other back the things we had. Then we embraced and cried. We missed the entire period. We stayed hidden under the bleachers, holding each other, clinging to the last moments we had. The bell rang for the next period. It was time to go our separate ways. Bill walked away into the hallway and into the flood of kids coming out of classrooms. I stood there, crying. From then on we would catch each other's glance in the hallway, in the cafeteria, outside the school but could only look at each other. The pain showed on his face and I know it showed on mine. I vomited for three days. I couldn't sleep. I lost weight. My Bobo was gone. That's when I gave up. I just simply did not care any more. I would become very promiscuous because every ounce of my love had been crushed. Oh, how I hated Vicky! Can't say she is one of my favorite people to this day. Years later as I was getting off work late one night at Eat 'n Park I saw Tony in the lobby. We started talking and then we went to my car. Sitting in the darkness at midnight Tony told me things. Things about that break up. Tony told me that Vicky had other motives for breaking us up. I was not the one she wanted her son to marry. Tony told me that Bill had loved me very much. Then Tony told me the thing that still brings tears to my eyes. He said that even Bill wasn't aware of it, but since he shared a room with Bill he saw it. While Bill slept he cried and called my name. Tears would fall from his eyes even as he was sound asleep. It went on for months. Tony had been angry all these years about what his mother had done. Well, that probably made at least three of us. A few years later I was saw Bill in Giant Eagle. I was looking at something on a shelf and felt someone standing behind me. They were looking at the same thing I was and were standing behind me and to the side. I turned around and got the shock of my life. The person behind me was Bill. Next to him was his wife. My hands immediately started to tremble. Bill introduced me and his wife. She seemed nice enough. My hands trembled for at least an hour afterwards though. Now Bill lives in Italy with his wife. I haven't seen Tony since that night in the car. It wasn't until I met John that I got over Bill enough to say I wouldn't have walked away from anyone if Bill came back. John is the only man that I have ever loved more than Bill. John is the only one I would have ever chosen over Bill. John knows the whole story of Bill. He thinks it is incredibly sad. John and I ran into Vicky recently. She introduced me to her co-workers as one of her son, Bill's, old friends from high school. John spoke up and said, "She was his girlfriend in high school." Vicky was telling them how we "hung out" together. John told me later it was like she was ashamed to say that we were more than friends back then. So he decided to say something.

My life as a diabetic...teenage years....part 1

The next few years were pretty uneventful. Pretty good control. Did what I was told. Then came the teenage years. This part may not be real clear. I don't remember a lot of it. It isn't any wonder. The beginning of my teenage years weren't too bad. I went to Christian school. My Christian school friends were wonderful people. I never felt out of place with them. Then the school started to go down hill. I went back to public school. Boom. Ninth grade and public school. I had no idea how to fit in with these kids. I was awkward. They were mean. It did not take long before I was severely depressed. That is one reason I don't remember a lot of it. The other is probably because my blood sugar was so far out of control. Suicide was a pretty prominant thought. Day in and day out I would wish I was dead instead of having to face another day at school. That's probably a big part of the reason I have not gone to a reunion. Don't get me wrong. There were a lot of good kids there too. I hear from the good ones once in awhile. The ones that made me feel like crap, well let's just say I don't really care what happened to them. And with the depression came problems. I did not even bother to test my blood sugars. I didn't want to live so why did I care what my blood sugar was. I ate anything I wanted. Sometimes I would even take massive doses of insulin. I would binge and eat every kind of sweet thing I could find. I would get sick and miss school or classes. Teachers thought I was faking. Students thought I was a loser. Then came my eleventh grade year. It was a troublesome year at best. I had my first sexual experience. I wasn't ready, but I can't really say I regret it. It was what it was. Now the ones that followed I can honestly say I regret most of them. (At least I would if I could remember most of them.) He did not pressure me and he never treated me badly. I remember riding in his bronco singing to the radio mostly. I often ate things when I was with him that I shouldn't. That is when I really started having problems. I would eat things I shouldn't. Then my blood sugar would be extremely high. I would be so thirsty and feel so ill going to class. I could hardly stand how dry my mouth felt during class. To be able to bear the dryness I would suck on a lollipop during class! Talk about adding fuel to the fire. Then I would rush to the bathroom between classes to pee. I started carrying a one liter bottle of diet coke with me at all times. I could drink it in no time. I was always exhausted. I couldn't stay awake. I would fall asleep any chance I got. And.........everyone thought I was faking. They thought I wanted out of class. I missed so much class that I was totally lost in all my classes. I felt stupid when I did go to class. Every day I hated myself more. Then came the day, January 11, 1986, when it all became almost too much for my body to bear. I felt pretty ill. I was vomiting violently, projectile vomiting. I just kept getting sicker and sicker. My dad does not handle sickness well and he was angry. I knew he loved me but the more I saw his anger the more I just wished the diabetes and this sick feeling would take me. It almost did. After much vomiting my mother decided to take me to the hospital. She went to get the car. I tried to walk out to the car but couldn't make it. I laid down on the floor in the hallway. That made my dad mad. I cried for awhile as I rode to the hospital. I don't remember how I got in the car. Then I just felt too sick to cry. My mom took me to Uniontown Hospital. Back then the emergency room had two areas. One was a hallway with a bunch of small exam rooms. That is where they took the minor emergencies. Then there was the other room. It was one big room with several beds, separated by curtains. That was where the major emergencies went. I was taken to the big room. By this time I was not only vomiting almost constantly, but I was struggling to breathe. I was later told that my breath could be felt six feet away. I remember a nurse coming in and telling me to stop breathing like that. It was the only way I could breathe. I had no contol over it. I felt physically and emotionally like shit. I don't remember a lot. Just a lot of blood tests and more vomiting. I must have had an IV but I don't remember. Then a nurse came in (a different one from the one that told me to stop breathing like that) and asked me if I was afraid to fly. I told her that I wasn't. So they prepared me for the arrival of the helicopter. I was going to Pittsburgh and I was going in a hurry. The helicopter ride was OK, except for having to pee halfway there. There is no place to pee in a helicopter. I was rushed into Children's Hospital. There things really started moving. I was hooked up to everything. I had IV's in both arms and my leg. I was put on a monster of a machine. It was an insulin pump and it was the size of a typewriter. I am convinced that crude insulin pump saved my life. I was put on oxygen, which I hated. I kept pulling it off my face. (even in my sleep) I wanted a drink so desperately but they wouldn't give it to me. When someone wiped my face with a washcloth I grabbed it and sucked it. I didn't get my face wiped anymore. My heart rate while lying perfectly still was 180 beats a minute. Over the next 8 hours I lost fourteen pounds. My parents were told that my body was doing the equivelant of running uphill for days without a rest. My dad and brother met me in Pittsburgh. I asked to see my brother when he got there. I told him I was not going to die. I really was pretty close to it. My parents sat by my side. My brother waited outside the room. I was in a room meant for 3 patients. I was in it alone because they needed that much room to care for me. At one point I remember telling my mother that my heart rate would go down but I was tired and needed to sleep. When I awoke she was sitting there. I asked her if my heart rate had gone down at all. She said that it hadn't. I told her to look again. With every bit of me I willed my heart to slow down. My heart slowed down. While I had been asleep I dreamed (?) I went to the edge of heaven. I couldn't go in. It wasn't time. Then I woke up. I told my mother that I was not going to die. Then I began to heal. By the next day I was walking around the halls and acting like a teenager. But in the next few years, I would continue to rebel...

My life as a diabetic....diagnosis

It was late January 1980. I was a few months shy of turning eleven. I was in the fifth grade at Franklin Elementary. My teacher was Mr. Krepps. I was a very thin little girl to begin with but I was at the age where I started to see myself as fat. I started to get unusually thirsty, tired and had to pee almost constantly. I could hardly stand how thirsty I was. I would excuse myself from class a lot so I could get a drink of water and go to the bathroom. My clothes were starting to get loose and I was so tired that I stopped going out to recess. I can remember telling Missy, Mari Jo and Karin in the girls' restroom that I was losing weight. During this time Mr. Krepps had noticed my unusual habits. He called my mother. That night my mother watched me drinking lots of water. For every glass of water I got she poured one into a gallon jug. In an hour's time I had drank a gallon of water. The next day she took me to our good old fashioned family doctor. He had me sit on the table. He took my vitals, looked into my eyes. Then he leaned over and sniffed me. He straightened up and told my mother that I was a diabetic. He told her not to feed me after midnight (like a gremlin) and to take me first thing in the morning for bloodwork. That was Feb. 1, 1980. February 2 my parents took me to the hospital for my bloodwork. After we went out to breakfast. I think we went to Winky's but I'm not sure. I think I had french toast with syrup. That was the last time I ever had real syrup. February 2 is my mother's birthday. That night we had a birthday cake for her. We were still waiting on the results of my blood test. I decided I did not want to eat the cake. (probably good after having had so much syrup for breakfast) The next morning I noticed my mother was so glued to the telephone that she looked like it was a part of her. She was sitting at the kitchen table with that old green telephone stuck to the side of her head. The results had come in. I was definately a diabetic. Our old family doctor had my mother call Dr. D'Auria, a pediatrician to get me admitted to Children's Hospital. Later that day we were making our first of many trips to Children's. As I was being taken to my room I noticed all the kids wearing a board taped to thier arms. It wasn't long until I would be wearing one of those. I soon found out that children in Children's Hospital did not wear pj's during the day. You got to wear your regular clothes. I liked that. Soon they came in to give me a shot and put in what they called my heparin lock. So, that's what the board was! They put an IV needle into my hand and taped it down. There wasn't an IV in it. It was like a little port that they used to take blood out. Heparin was put in after they took blood out. They strapped my arm down to this board so I wouldn't dislodge it. I was given an IV in the other arm for the fluids I needed. So now I looked like the other kids on the ward. I was shown where the pee room was. That was the room where we would learn to do our own urine tests. I was shown the kitchen and then I was taken to the pool room. It didn't have a pool, but it did have a pool table. It had games, a stereo and a pay phone. There were comfy chairs and all the kids my age and older were there. The little kids had a separate room with little kids' toys. There was an older teenage boy in there playing pool. I wanted to talk to my grandmother on the phone but I didn't know how to call her with it. He told me I could call her collect if she will accept the charges. Then he taught me how to do it. My grandmother told me to call her collect as often as I wanted and to talk as long as I wanted. I had always been very close to her and spent almost all my free time with her. So, it was hard for me to be away from her. In the days that followed I learned many things. I learned how insulin worked and how it didn't work in me. I learned to take urine tests and give my own shots. I learned very quickly that I had the kind of diabetes that pills won't help. I learned which people were from the lab. I found all the closets on the floor and learned how to hide in them. I hated to see the lab people coming. It didn't take them long to learn that I liked to hide in the closets. Then I was introduced to an old timer. He was a ten year old boy who had been a diabetic since he was five. He was given the duty of showing me how to do a urine test. I thought he was really "cute". So there we stood outside the pee room, me and the cute boy holding our cups of pee. He told me to put so many drops of pee in the test tube and so many drops of water. Then put in the tablet. Don't touch the test tube now. It gets very hot and will burn you. The mixture of pee, water and tablet began to bubble and change colors. Then he showed me how to read the results from a color chart. There was another tablet that checked for ketones. You just put pee on it and it changed color. It didn't get hot and wouldn't hurt you if you touched it. The cute boy's name was Kenny. I only saw him once after I left the hospital, several years later. I was in the hospital for a week. I stopped worrying about being fat.

Long talk with an old friend

I have had many wonderful girlfriends in my life. The trouble is I tend to lose touch. It isn't that I don't want to talk to them or that I ever forget about them. I simply just hibernate in my little world. I get to feeling lonely sometimes, but it is my own doing. It isn't easy to get out with Amanda so I don't go out as often as I should. I tend to do all my running while she is at school and it is usually done in a hurry. I used to talk on the phone alot. Now I hardly do. I am much more likely to be on the internet. I don't ever forget them. I actually think about them all quite often. Yesterday, I just got the desire to give one of my girlfriends a call. It was a nice, lovely, long chat. It was as if there wasn't even a pause in our contact. I remember the day we met. It was the first day of kindergarten. We were both wearing the same cardigan sweater. That is what started our first conversation. From that day on we were great friends. In our adult lives we haven't had a lot of contact, but picking up the phone yesterday was just like picking up where we left off. We talked for hours and it was wonderful. She has recently had a baby. I was so happy for her and maybe just a little jealous! I'm always a little jealous of women with babies. She told me that another friend is pregnant! She gave me the other girlfriend's email address. I sent her an email last night. I hope I hear from her! I am sure glad I picked up the phone yesterday. I am really going to have to make more of an effort to stay in touch with my girlfriends. These wonderful ladies are the ones that knew me way back when. They were the ones that were there when I developed diabetes. They knew me before I had diabetes. (even though it seems like I have always had it) I have always loved them and it is time I act like it. I just hope they realize that I have always cared about them.

Unsavory memory

Two posts in one day and both before 8:00 am! I must be ill. Actually, a memory that I don't usually think about came into my head. I guess I feel I just need to let it out. I was probably about eleven years old. It was near Christmas. My parents had just started to let me go on my own in stores. We were in a discount store. My parents had left me shop on my own. The store was very busy. Near the door was a table with gloves on it. I was looking for a pair of gloves that I liked and was digging through the pile. I hadn't noticed the older man watching me at the time. I'm pretty sure he had been though. He seemed very old to me at the time, but at that age most adults seem old. He did have gray hair. I remember exactly what he looked like. He had a beard and was wearing a brown coat. He was not particularly tall or short. He had a fairly average build. He came up to me and said, "Nice evening to be out Christmas shopping. I just bought a new car. It's just outside the door. Would you like to see it?" I dropped the gloves and turned as fast as I could and ran to the back of the store. There I found a rack of winter coats. I crawled in under the rack. It was one of those round racks and I was able to disappear into the center. I stayed under there for quite some time until I thought maybe he was gone. I went and found my mother and stayed pretty close to her the rest of the evening. I didn't tell her. As a matter of fact, I never told anyone. I was afraid at the time that my mother would never let me shop alone again. After that I simply pushed it out of my mind. I never really thought about it after the weeks that followed. Until today. I have no idea why it came back to me today. I just wonder if my fear led to that horrible man taking some other child. I wonder what would have happened to me if I went to look at his car. Would I be in my grave? Would I have ever even been found? I doubt I was the only child he ever came after. How many did he actually get? Who was he? Where is he now? Is he still a threat to children? And if he took other children, is it my fault?

Happy Birthday to my baby!

Today my Jenny is fifteen! When she was born she weighed 5 lbs. 3 oz., born on 5/4/92 at 5:05 pm. She was 18 inches long. Her birth took 20 minutes! Her father was present, but was upset because he was going to miss the end of Darkwing Duck. He joked and said she could have waited until the show was over to be born. Well, at 5:05 she actually did! LOL She was born with lots of hair and it was platinum blond. Over the years she has given me a lot of joy and made me very proud. So far she has caused very few gray hairs. Today we are spending the day together. She does not have to do any schoolwork today. We are starting out by going out to breakfast. She is getting most of her presents on Sunday at the family party. I do have a small gift to give her at breakfast. Going to be a nice day for us.

On another note the swelling in my ankles is finally gone. Doctor is running some tests, but I might have been worried for nothing. The swelling seems to have gone away with the end of my period. However, the swelling was so bad that it left bruising. I guess we'll see what the tests reveal. Today I am going to have my hearing tested. I have had a very hard time hearing John lately and I noticed I am turning up the tv. Things are sounding a bit garbled. So, off to see Jimmy (Cuz) today! His patients do tend to look at us funny when I call him Cuz and we hug and laugh. Jenny is going with me. She wants to go. (Not that me having a hearing test is exciting or fun.)

Well, I am going to go now and pack John's lunch for work. I bought sandwiches at Sheetz. All I have to do is put everything in the lunchbox. Lazy me! Ha!