It's been a LONG time since I posted on this blog. It's been about 3 1/2 years since I was diagnosed with "the diabeetus". Life's gone on. I've cheated. I've been good. I've learned and I've re-learned.
Goodness knows that I have been far from perfect when watching my diet. I take my meds religiously, but never consciously tell myself that a cheat of some sugar-coated poison will be okay cuz I'm taking my Metformin.
It's been tough to adjust to new things, and much like my continuous bout with fingernail-chewing, it will never, ever be over. I've chewed and eaten my fingernails since birth -- possibly in the womb, because it's always been a habit. Somewhere in the early 00s, I made a very concerted effort to stop, and I actually did for about a year. I was impressed with this strength. I didn't have constant, bloody hangnails and wasn't ashamed to show off my hands (could I have been a hand model, not on your life), but eventually, I fell off the wagon. It's one of those things that will be with me until I'm buried six feet under, awaiting the go-ahead to rise up as a zombie. And when I claw my way through the dirt, grasping for the above-ground, despite the fact that my fingers and nails will be caked with dirt, worm-shit and rot -- I'll immediately put those digits into my mouth and start chewing.
And once that nail-chewing is done, I'll start searching for warm flesh -- all the while with a 100 Grand fun-sized candy bar hanging from my droopy lips.
Nail biting and candy-eating will never be completely out of my life (or after-life).
Much like my cold turkey quitting of nail-chewing and the inevitable fall from grace, the eating habits I have had all my life, were only changed for the moment when I was diagnosed with diabetes.
I've fallen off the wagon big time, and never so much in the past 3 1/2 years as what I've experienced in the last 48 hours.
Get the technical out of the way. A normal blood sugar should be in the low 100's. When I was given the diagnosis and then hospitalized, my sugar was a whopping 437. Basically, they HAD to admit me for observation, cuz numbers like that can be life-threatening.
Last night, I checked my sugar number, something I've neglected to do regularly over the past 1 1/2 years (and that may be conservative). I'm currently uninsured. I can afford my generic meds, but the equipment for blood sugar testing is expensive. And I figured I had a pretty firm grasp on what not to and what was okay to eat.
Yeah, right.
331. That's the # I found last night on the glucose meter.
You wanna know why? I figured I'd better test, cuz 3/4 of the way through my shift yesterday, I started to have what can only be described as a relatively subtle form of vertigo (which is hitting me with another wave right now as I type). I finished my shift, drove home and went to bed early last night, in the belief that I would get up at 4am to make it to my 7am shift.
But the vertigo was still there when I got up. It's like little bitty tremors in my head, which goes from side to side. And I can feel my eyes occasionally shudder.
Of course it has to do with my sugar levels. Since I haven't been properly monitoring the levels for some time, I can't say with any certainty. But I would venture to say that the 331 is probably the highest it's been since that fateful day 3 1/2 years ago.
In the past, when I know that I've cheated, I've felt it later. Some sort of fatigue, perhaps a little malaise. But always something I stupidly accepted and pushed through. If I got the joy of a chocolate chip muffin from The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, I could handle the slight fallout of this cheat. Should I be rationalizing? No.
But over the past 48 hours, I've ingested so much crap. Even more crap than I've allowed to filter its way back into our cupboards and our fridge. Slowly over these past few years, sugary cereals and salty snacks and honest-to-God candy bars have worked their way back into my every day. And it's been slow. 7 grams of sugar. That's acceptable. 9 grams? That's not much more than 7 grams. So that's okay. And now I'm full-blown eating whatever the hell I want, whenever I want. To say I've fallen from the wagon is too kind. I jumped from the wagon, did three cartwheels and boarded a fast-moving train to get as far away from the wagon as I could.
I called out from work today, cuz I am having vertigo. Cuz I ingested too much sugar. I found that place where I have gone too far.
I don't want to overstate it by calling it a "come-to-Jesus" moment, but when the fuck am I gonna learn?
Just like the nail-chewing, I've got to keep it in check. Done in moderation. Cuz there's just no way, after decades of eating the way I do, that I can just stop it all together. But I need to see the bigger picture.
I've got lots of shit to do before I'm dead, so getting to the grave faster (as much as I'd like to come back as a brain-hungry zombie) won't serve my needs.
It's time to take another look at diet and exercise and get some shit in order.
And btw, do you want to know what level of crap I ingested over the past 48 hours?
Sunday night: A box of Milk Duds. And I ain't talking a fun pack. A full on box.
Monday morning: Two bowls of Lucky fucking Charms.
Once at work Monday morning, a candy bar.
Lunch time Monday: Soup and chips and FOUR bite-sized Milky Ways (that's what put me over the edge no doubt).
Dinner time Monday night: PB & J sammich and chips. Then some "sugar-free" chocolate wafers.
Somewhere past lunchtime (the Milky Ways) I started to feel the vertigo. Tried to ignore it, didn't tell the husband about it that night. Went to bed hoping it would be gone by morning. Still here.
So I called out from work. Lifting and moving furniture when you're a bit off balance -- probably not a wise move.
I hate being so stupid. I hate being so weak. I know that this crap makes me feel shitty. And now, ultra-shitty. Makes no common sense, and yet here I am. Feeling awful cuz I made ridiculous diet choices.
The thing is, I like fruits and veggies and I like proteins. Just need to re-evaluate, step up to the plate and make better decisions.
I've got a to-do list a mile long, and I can't complete it if I'm in an early grave.
Nail-chewing? I'll allow it. Sugar gorging? It needs to stop.
Stupid diabetes.
