(no subject)
So, lots of little things going on, but nothing huge- just catching up.
- So, yeah, it's definitive: I'm pre-diabetic. And also insulin resistant, which isn't good. Basically, the people in the diabetes study explained to me, diabetes can come from two ways: one, the pancreas makes crappy insulin, or two, the pancreas makes fine insulin but the body just doesn't respond like it should to it. The latter sucks because in that case you can't just give yourself insulin and expect your body to react just as it should.
The upshot is that I've gotten even more serious about my food than I was before. I was allowing myself to eat some stuff that had maltitol and other sugar alcohols that are used in "low carb" foods, but no more. Also, I'm not using the elevator any more, and I work on the 7th floor, and park 2 floors below the lobby, so I walk 14 flights minimum a day, and sometimes, like, 24. It's a baby step, I know.
When I was at the VA, the doctor who ran the study came by to express concern about my cholesterol level; he said my HDL (right?) was 174, which isn't incredibly high, but for someone with my risk factors, he thought it was high. When I told him that my cholesterol before was 198, he waved that away, saying that my weight loss could account for that. My gut tells me that's not right, and that if I keep eating what I eat, it will drop more. He suggested I eat leaner meats and cut out the cream. Since the drug study is 3 years, I guess we'll find out who is right. :-)
They're testing a diabetic drug on pre-diabetics to see if it can help prevent the disease, and I've been taking it a week. I have no idea if it's a placebo or the actual drug.
But all this means I really do need to start working out, and I still have a hugely low motivation level. I'm actually considering going to a hypnotherapist for that. Has anyone here, or any one you know, been to one, and what did they think? Maybe I'll have him boost my sex drive while I'm at it. :-)
- My mom flies in today so we can go to LA tonight so she can see my brother and the baby, and meet my brother's sweetie (Mommy). It should be an interesting trip for me, and I'm going to have to forcefully increase my patience to get through it. When I mentioned to my mom that I'd have to ask Mommy's mother, who is visiting long term-form Germany, which involves cooking the meals and sleeping in the baby's room to care for her at night, what dinner will be because of my dietary restrictions, my mom made a big deal how I shouldn't ask, I should just eat what she makes or just eat a bit and not the rest. She didn't want me to "make a big deal over it," as if me simply asking what's for dinner makes it a big deal by default. Like I haven't gotten into my 30s without being able to communicate with people without pissing most of them off. It's going to be a long weekend.
- The house is now painted, and it looks great. The colors are wonderful. As soon as Ron and I add trim around the windows, I'll take a photo. Right now the window colors look funky because there's no trim.
Many months ago we made a deal with the guy across the street to do our yards, and he said he had someone with a skip loader who could take the dirt out of our yard and even it up, but in those months he hasn't been able to find anyone who had time to do it, so it's waited, through the rains, and multiple passes of me killing the grass and weeds that poke up. We decided yesterday that we'd rent our own, and do it ourselves, and since Ron's out of town for the next two weekends after this one (and with a trip out of town the weekend after), I'll be doing it myself. Yesterday I got a city permit to put a dumpster on the street, and today I'll order the dumpster and arrange for the Bobcat rental. I think it could be fun to roll around my yard, scooping up dirt and concrete. At least it won't involve a shovel.
- This Terry Schiavo thing makes me think of many things:
- Everyone (EVERYONE) should have a living will, and possibly a trust. Go get an attorney, don't pass go, pay them whatever it takes to make your wishes known. If the Schiavos had done what most couple never do, we wouldn't be here today debating this.
- If I'm in a permanent state of vegetation, or near-vegetation, 2 things: fucking listen to my husband. He knows better than my parents, he's known me as an adult, knows my religion, loves me, and has my best interests at heart. It's his show. And don't let me live for 15 years trapped in my own body. Starving to death over 2 weeks would be a blessing after 15 years not being able to communicate or think clearly. Okay, 3 things. If I'm buried instead of cremated, whoever made that decision will be haunted by me for the rest of their life, like Sophie's in Carnivale, without the shapeless dresses. Okay, 4 things. If Ron wants to move on with his life in a couple years, and have kids and be happy, he deserves it. He may decide not to divorce me so that I can stay on his health care (sound familiar?), but IN NO WAY should he be judged for moving on with his life. Out of all the things made make me angry, that has to be the most outrageous- that people judge Schaivo for moving on, yet not divorcing his wife, and for having kids with someone else. That's not cheating- that's being humane and human.
I'm a Democrat. A "tax and spend" and "finger in everyone's pie" and "interfering" and "holier than thou" Democrat, as they would have you believe. But I swear, if the government butts into my end of life decision, there will be hell to pay from somewhere, just on karma alone. Tom Delay, you are no neurologist, and keep your opinions about my non-patient self to your own head, you lying, embezzling, unethical cocksucker.
I guess that's a good word to end on, with Deadwood being so good this season, and with Al Swearingen on the mend. I love Swearingen.
- So, yeah, it's definitive: I'm pre-diabetic. And also insulin resistant, which isn't good. Basically, the people in the diabetes study explained to me, diabetes can come from two ways: one, the pancreas makes crappy insulin, or two, the pancreas makes fine insulin but the body just doesn't respond like it should to it. The latter sucks because in that case you can't just give yourself insulin and expect your body to react just as it should.
The upshot is that I've gotten even more serious about my food than I was before. I was allowing myself to eat some stuff that had maltitol and other sugar alcohols that are used in "low carb" foods, but no more. Also, I'm not using the elevator any more, and I work on the 7th floor, and park 2 floors below the lobby, so I walk 14 flights minimum a day, and sometimes, like, 24. It's a baby step, I know.
When I was at the VA, the doctor who ran the study came by to express concern about my cholesterol level; he said my HDL (right?) was 174, which isn't incredibly high, but for someone with my risk factors, he thought it was high. When I told him that my cholesterol before was 198, he waved that away, saying that my weight loss could account for that. My gut tells me that's not right, and that if I keep eating what I eat, it will drop more. He suggested I eat leaner meats and cut out the cream. Since the drug study is 3 years, I guess we'll find out who is right. :-)
They're testing a diabetic drug on pre-diabetics to see if it can help prevent the disease, and I've been taking it a week. I have no idea if it's a placebo or the actual drug.
But all this means I really do need to start working out, and I still have a hugely low motivation level. I'm actually considering going to a hypnotherapist for that. Has anyone here, or any one you know, been to one, and what did they think? Maybe I'll have him boost my sex drive while I'm at it. :-)
- My mom flies in today so we can go to LA tonight so she can see my brother and the baby, and meet my brother's sweetie (Mommy). It should be an interesting trip for me, and I'm going to have to forcefully increase my patience to get through it. When I mentioned to my mom that I'd have to ask Mommy's mother, who is visiting long term-form Germany, which involves cooking the meals and sleeping in the baby's room to care for her at night, what dinner will be because of my dietary restrictions, my mom made a big deal how I shouldn't ask, I should just eat what she makes or just eat a bit and not the rest. She didn't want me to "make a big deal over it," as if me simply asking what's for dinner makes it a big deal by default. Like I haven't gotten into my 30s without being able to communicate with people without pissing most of them off. It's going to be a long weekend.
- The house is now painted, and it looks great. The colors are wonderful. As soon as Ron and I add trim around the windows, I'll take a photo. Right now the window colors look funky because there's no trim.
Many months ago we made a deal with the guy across the street to do our yards, and he said he had someone with a skip loader who could take the dirt out of our yard and even it up, but in those months he hasn't been able to find anyone who had time to do it, so it's waited, through the rains, and multiple passes of me killing the grass and weeds that poke up. We decided yesterday that we'd rent our own, and do it ourselves, and since Ron's out of town for the next two weekends after this one (and with a trip out of town the weekend after), I'll be doing it myself. Yesterday I got a city permit to put a dumpster on the street, and today I'll order the dumpster and arrange for the Bobcat rental. I think it could be fun to roll around my yard, scooping up dirt and concrete. At least it won't involve a shovel.
- This Terry Schiavo thing makes me think of many things:
- Everyone (EVERYONE) should have a living will, and possibly a trust. Go get an attorney, don't pass go, pay them whatever it takes to make your wishes known. If the Schiavos had done what most couple never do, we wouldn't be here today debating this.
- If I'm in a permanent state of vegetation, or near-vegetation, 2 things: fucking listen to my husband. He knows better than my parents, he's known me as an adult, knows my religion, loves me, and has my best interests at heart. It's his show. And don't let me live for 15 years trapped in my own body. Starving to death over 2 weeks would be a blessing after 15 years not being able to communicate or think clearly. Okay, 3 things. If I'm buried instead of cremated, whoever made that decision will be haunted by me for the rest of their life, like Sophie's in Carnivale, without the shapeless dresses. Okay, 4 things. If Ron wants to move on with his life in a couple years, and have kids and be happy, he deserves it. He may decide not to divorce me so that I can stay on his health care (sound familiar?), but IN NO WAY should he be judged for moving on with his life. Out of all the things made make me angry, that has to be the most outrageous- that people judge Schaivo for moving on, yet not divorcing his wife, and for having kids with someone else. That's not cheating- that's being humane and human.
I'm a Democrat. A "tax and spend" and "finger in everyone's pie" and "interfering" and "holier than thou" Democrat, as they would have you believe. But I swear, if the government butts into my end of life decision, there will be hell to pay from somewhere, just on karma alone. Tom Delay, you are no neurologist, and keep your opinions about my non-patient self to your own head, you lying, embezzling, unethical cocksucker.
I guess that's a good word to end on, with Deadwood being so good this season, and with Al Swearingen on the mend. I love Swearingen.