I walked into Prestige Pharmacy to get some chewing gum. We were leaving for Toledo Saturday and had a long ride from St. Louis, and I knew the kids would need bubble gum and probably some Twizzlers and Red Hots, stuff like that. Somewhere inside the store, I forgot where the candy aisle was, and found myself wandering past baby diapers and greeting cards, and on into the medical supplies aisle. There in front of my eyes were the diabetes supplies. I froze. I hadn’t gone to see Dr. Wong in a year and a half, and I certainly wasn’t getting any younger. Should I take a box of strips? What about a blood glucose meter test kit? Could I possibly have diabetes? Why upset the apple cart now, Leonard probably doesn’t want to hear about it. Besides, we’re going on vacation to my sister’s. We’re taking the kids to Cedar Point in Sandusky. I felt my heart pounding—now or never, Gladys, now or never. What the hell. I compromised, deciding on the strips. I would wait until we came back next week to test them and I’d hide them so Leonard wouldn’t know. Okay, so if they show negative, business as usual. I walked back toward the cashiers and a little bit later on, found the candy and gum.