Sugar, Sugar…

Two weeks ago my wife and I went to have our yearly physicals. We fasted that morning, and then went and had our arms poked with needles (which I “love” and drove my anxiety up)  and our blood sucked out to have it shipped off to a lab and analyzed.

This week we had to go back to the doctor for him to go over the results. After filling out paperwork, they took my wife back first. Then they took me back. We updated all of my medicines that I am currently taking (which took a while) and then they put us in a room together. Her’s was fine, healthy as a horse.

Then we went over mine.

I have improved across the board in my thyroid, cholesterol and blood pressure and all of the other stats; however I now have a new problem. I am now a diabetic.

Yep, genetics and being a fat guy has finally caught up to me at my old age of 39.


My A1C is only .4 points over the line for diabetes. So, if I can drop my weight down then I would just be hyperglycemic and that would go away with further weight loss. So, I am not looking at a death sentence or anything, but I am having to make drastic changes in my diet and lifestyle. I mean, a complete fucking overhaul.

I basically cannot eat bread, any bread or any form of starch at all. So, carbs are out. Goodbye English Muffins, goodbye sandwiches, goodbye potatoes, goodbye corn, goodbye 3/4ths of the food I eat. Lean protein is the new food source of choice, along with green vegetables. Greek yogurt, tuna, kale, celery and carrots have become my new food friends along with my new bestie hummus. I can eat a shit-ton of hummus, just not with pita chips. Again, hello celery and carrots.

The other frustration is that the insurance company is requiring further paperwork and shit from the doctor to pay for the medication that I need. It would be a weekly injection that would help my glucose and also promote weight loss. I would still have to eat right and exercise, but it significantly helps with losing weight.  I just have to get the damn insurance company to cough up the dough and provide it.

Welcome to American Health Care.

I won’t say that I haven’t been depressed about this because I have been in the shits since I was told the news. I have been fighting sinking lower and lower. Today I saw my therapist and I talked it out. Right now I am good and I feel motivated. Motivated because I am angry. Angry at myself for making bad choices, angry at fast food, angry at Little Debbie, I am just angry and I am using that anger as energy to power myself to get shit done. I am channeling that anger into motivation. I will get this weight off, keep it off and get rid of this sickness.

I am not going to end up like my mother with her diabetes. Fuck that.

So, I am going to fight this shit and win.

End of story.





One comment

  1. Priceratops · May 2, 2016

    The good news is, you’re in a place that’s completely and totally manageable. Mine was 8.8 when I got the good news, and my buddy’s was actually 13. He was borderline gonna die. Partly joking. But, in a short time, he was able to get his down to 6.3 or something like that, and within a couple of months, I was able to get mine down to 6.5. The doc was pretty surprised I was able to knock it down that quickly, but with the combo of meds / diet / exercise, it’s much easier than anticipated.

    Hang in there, bud. With the examples we’ve had in our lives, diabetes was a death sentence, and a wicked slow and painful one at that. But, I’ve learned that when you actually work hard at it and pay attention to your body (and your doc), your chances of beating it and enjoying a longer stay on this rock are increased exponentially.


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