Wheed Machey

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I have diabetes and use a long acting repository insulin that slowly is released over about 24 hours. At night, if my blood sugar is very low  I sweat and awake.* That can happen if I forget to eat at all  after mid day because of mild 
gastroparesis;  my slovenly slouch stomach just sits there silently doing-nothing. I don’t get hungry.  see  

For the same reason, lazy stomach,  I don’t like to eat much before lying down to sleep; a meal will stagnate acidly while   waiting for attention like a supplicant at The Department of Motor Vehicles.

By contrast,  mildly low  levels during sleep can spin off splendiferous dreams. At night when my bed is toasty warm the little lake of repository insulin warms up  too, and that heat causes a faster release of insulin. Last night I had such a dream based on the following real life situations:

My daughter, a well known free lance writer, has been waiting during several years for an eminent national  U S newspaper to be granted a visa to send her to Cuba for an interview with their most popular TV personality; he has, in effect, become too big to fail; he gently but sharply lampoons the average Cuban’s encounters with the dictatorship.

Yet it is unlikely a visa will be granted for an interview in the near future because of the  politics and economic circumstances of the two countries. The Cuban government fears calling more attention the embarrassingly popular TV show magnate. Our government– while grandly announcing an historic breakthrough in  diplomatic relations, tourism and commerce– fears voters.  Long after the hoopla, no average citizen can visit freely, independently, economically, and legally.

The two governments have quietly collaborated on restrictions which give each what they want, but pitifully little to the average would be visitor who hopes to travel freely and communicate freely with average Cubanos. The restrictions  and process remain obscure, but effectively make it impossible to visit except under conditions imposed by cooperating tour agencies and privileged Cuban groups that can profit nicely from the  great interest in Cuba travel. It is as usual: profit and  politics rule.

But last night was different. In a low sugar moment, L’s visa was approved. After a long and involved series of preparations too detailed to recall or understand, she left. Shortly afterward, a mysterious person called to ask me to remind her to look up Wheed Machey in Havana. At that point I awoke, recalling that I had not eaten much supper. Blood sugar 73; half a banana and a quarter of an apple took care of that nicely.

But what to do about Mr. Machey? Afraid to forget details as in most dreams, I wrote down his name and slept on it. Today I called L, but she didn’t know how to reach him, so I am posting, emailing and Face-booking this open letter, hoping it will be shared, and ultimately reach Wheed Machey H:

Muy estimado Sr. Machey,

Le saludo cordialmente. Lamento la nececidad de intentar conectarme con Ud. de esta manera tan extraordinaria. Creo que posiblemente somos parientes. Mis tatarabuelos vivian en Matanzas ,  pero no se nada de ellos. Por la situacion internacional creo que no voy nunca poder viajar a Matanzas antes que me muera.   Con la esperanza que me pueda responder lo mas luego posible,


Juan Heriberto Huachuca  Machey


*Long ago I used both insulin and two oral medications for diabetes; after 45 minutes sweating in a very hot sauna, which always delights me, I felt weak; thanks to the combination of oral medications and long acting insulin my blood sugar was 10! But since stopping all medication except insulin I have never had a similar problem.