I mentioned a week or so back that I had to take a more extensive blood test because my doctor was concerned that I might be diabetic. Took the test and waited. Last night the call came.
I am not diabetic. But I only missed by a tiny amount. My body is doing a piss poor job of dealing with sugars. And I need to make some serious changes in my diet. My doctor knows this was the news I desperately didn't want to hear. She's been great about it all. But the news came as a great black weight on me.
My reactions to this have been many.
Angry. My body has betrayed me. All the changes I've made in the last year, diet changes, exercise, losing almost 30 pounds don't seem to have helped.
Scared. I know it's irrational but the word diabetes means death sentence to me. I know that's wrong but it's a leftover from childhood. Plus it's connected to the thought of insulin injections. You want to talk irrational? Let's talk about my needle phobia. I can't watch actors on TV get shots that I know aren't even real.
Depressed. See above about exercise and weight loss. Add in that in the last two years I've developed a great love of cooking. I'm wondering how many of these new recipes are just off the list now. The first person who says "You'll get used to eating it" is going to get hit. Seriously. I have no interest in getting used to food that lacks flavor and texture. A life eating second rate food doesn't sound like one that's worth living.
Don't take that last sentence too seriously. I'm just in the down cycle of my poor-poor-pitiful-me routine. It never lasts too long.
So what's the solution? Apparently the South Beach Diet. If I can survive the first two weeks the rest looks like it might be OK. We've actually begun the move in that direction anyway (whole grain instead of refined, more veggies, lower carbs) anyway. My beautiful, wonderful, amazing lady wife has agreed that she will travel along with me on this path. She has let me express all those emotions above and lets me cry without penalty. I am completely unworthy of this woman. Pray to God that neither of us kill each other going through carb withdrawal.
So a few more days to just feel sorry for myself. A few days of research on what I need to do to prepare and the changes I need to make. We're thinking we may start all this with Lent. We'll see.
So I'm OK. No immediate danger of death. I'm going to be a bit down for a while yet (I'm a firm believer in the positive benefits of taking a brief wallow in your self pity)and then I'm going to be really grumpy for those two weeks.
With any luck at all I'll come out the other side thinner, healthier and destined to stick around annoying those I love for many years to come.
There, I've said it out loud. Now it's real.
It sucks but it's real. And I'm going to beat it. Somehow.
Pray for me.