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With much gratitude
Dec. 30th, 2009 08:39 amI love you guys. Thanks for all the supportive comments. I'm still trying to work all this out in my head.
Dec. 30th, 2009
So. I hope I haven't mislead anybody into thinking I'm about to be wheeled in to have all my innards taken out and put back into me in reverse order, or that I'm the first person in modern history to catch the frequently-fatal Barking Spider Red-and-Green Pox. What I have been diagnosed with is the unfortunately very common diabetes, which about eight percent of the US population has. And yes, it's mostly because despite a family history of the stuff, I haven't been vigilant about diet or exercise, especially in the past two years, when I put on a lot of extra weight.
If I can get my weight and diet under control, the hope is that my blood sugar will follow, and that I may never get to the point of insulin shots and may even be able to stop taking metaformin. But all of this good stuff would be way down the road, and I've only started to walk it.
I am a veritable kettle of emotion right now. Guilt, shame, anger, resignation. Mostly, it's fear - fear that I won't be able to change myself, when previous (half-hearted) attempts have all not worked. Fear that despite a threat to my health that I can't ignore, I'll find some way to rationalize myself back into bad habits. Fear that I'll eat right and work hard and still not lose weight, or lose weight and still have the disease progress. (This is not very likely, I hope. I hope.) Fear that I'll end up an utter bore, sitting at a party eating a stalk of broccoli while talking to everyone within earshot about how much I loooove that cake over there, but I caaaaaan't eat it and so here I aaaaammmm with my broccoli. Alone. In the corner.
Bemo will be changing his diet along with me (he's not at a good weight himself, so hopefully he will get the weight-loss benefit out of this too) and there are some people at work who are supportive - work is hard, because people love to bake there, and bring in treats galore). I was called into work during the holiday break because of a small flood of water from a busted water cooler wetting down some of our office files, and my doctor's appt. where I learned my diagnosis happened during the morning of one of those days. Needless to say, the couple of people who were there noticed I was upset. One of them has a vast family history of the stuff and has been told she will very probably develop it someday, so she was very knowledgeable and supportive. The other, my boss, has a father with diabetes, and is therefore understanding as well.
There's a class at the local hospital which I'll attend. I have pamphlets galore to read. I will be checking my blood once a day and keeping a food journal and a blood-results journal. I don't know how much I'll talk about it here - hopefully not too much that people roll their eyes and run away. The fact that I'm going to tag this post with the word "diabetes" makes me feel so very odd, I can't express it. But it's the truth, and I can't hide from that anymore.
Thanks, guys, for your care.
If I can get my weight and diet under control, the hope is that my blood sugar will follow, and that I may never get to the point of insulin shots and may even be able to stop taking metaformin. But all of this good stuff would be way down the road, and I've only started to walk it.
I am a veritable kettle of emotion right now. Guilt, shame, anger, resignation. Mostly, it's fear - fear that I won't be able to change myself, when previous (half-hearted) attempts have all not worked. Fear that despite a threat to my health that I can't ignore, I'll find some way to rationalize myself back into bad habits. Fear that I'll eat right and work hard and still not lose weight, or lose weight and still have the disease progress. (This is not very likely, I hope. I hope.) Fear that I'll end up an utter bore, sitting at a party eating a stalk of broccoli while talking to everyone within earshot about how much I loooove that cake over there, but I caaaaaan't eat it and so here I aaaaammmm with my broccoli. Alone. In the corner.
Bemo will be changing his diet along with me (he's not at a good weight himself, so hopefully he will get the weight-loss benefit out of this too) and there are some people at work who are supportive - work is hard, because people love to bake there, and bring in treats galore). I was called into work during the holiday break because of a small flood of water from a busted water cooler wetting down some of our office files, and my doctor's appt. where I learned my diagnosis happened during the morning of one of those days. Needless to say, the couple of people who were there noticed I was upset. One of them has a vast family history of the stuff and has been told she will very probably develop it someday, so she was very knowledgeable and supportive. The other, my boss, has a father with diabetes, and is therefore understanding as well.
There's a class at the local hospital which I'll attend. I have pamphlets galore to read. I will be checking my blood once a day and keeping a food journal and a blood-results journal. I don't know how much I'll talk about it here - hopefully not too much that people roll their eyes and run away. The fact that I'm going to tag this post with the word "diabetes" makes me feel so very odd, I can't express it. But it's the truth, and I can't hide from that anymore.
Thanks, guys, for your care.
Complete with matching...headscarf?
