Newses
So, Friday, I found out I am in the *verrrry* beginning stage of Type 2 diabetes. Now don't freak out or anything because this is not "bad" news. I suspected I was developing it because diabetes runs on both sides of my family and I am very familiar with the signs and symptoms. You could say that diabetes is almost "commonplace" to me, an inevitability, as natural a thing as inheriting my blue eyes. Could this inherited condition have been avoided? Could I have dodged the genetic bullet? Yep, probably. But I didn't. And it's my own fault. I can't cop out and *blame* genetics. I mean, I *could*, but I won't. I choose to accept responsibility for my own laziness, my own gluttony. Yeah, I said gluttony. Because that's what it comes down to. One piece of cake? No, I'll have two, thanks. Small Coke? Nope, I'll take the large, 'kay. Exercise? Ehhhhh. Do I *have* to? (Aubra can vouch for the fact that I did *try* to do exercises with him and I never complained or whined, but I didn't stick with it. 'Cause, you know. I'm lazy.)
Therefore, it's no surprise I've followed in the hereditary footsteps of my forebears. Southern cooking is intrinsically unhealthy. Butter, salt, sugar, deep-frying, gravy. Yum! The difference between the folks of the past and those of us occupying the present is our lifestyle. As late as the 1950s, the Southern US was still predominantly an agricultural society. People worked the land and they worked hard. They didn't have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn to go jogging. By the time the sun was peeking over the treetops, they were already out in the field, sweating their own ass-cracks off. By the time lunch rolled around, they'd worked off that sausage and gravy they'd consumed at breakfast.
I, on the other hand, basically sit on my ass all day. Even my job skill consists of my sitting on my ass all day. This wouldn't be a problem if I exercised. Aubra's current job is a physically taxing one, but he didn't always work such a job. He used to have "white-collar" jobs, but he didn't gain 50 lbs. because he exercised. He likes to lift weights and run. Me, I'd rather not perspire, thanks. And, because of that, I now *have* to exercise, have to take a drug I wouldn't have had to take otherwise, and measure my food and cut my sugar intake to practically nil.
Therefore, while beginning to develop diabetes is not a *good* thing, it's a good thing. It forces me to take care of myself. It forces me to stop being selfish. It forces me to stop being a lazy-ass.
On Friday, my blood sugar was 231 and my A1C was 6. Normal A1C is up to 6, so, since I've only had definite symptoms for about 6 months, I'm just at the very cusp of it. The doctor prescribed Metformin and Lisinopril (low-dosage BP med to protect my kidneys), diabetic diet and exercise. I have to check my blood sugar every day and keep track of it on a chart he gave me. Then, I go back in a month to show him how I'm doing. He said, if I can get the blood sugar back down, I can come off the Metformin and control it with just with diet. The past two days, my sugar hasn't gone over 130, which is basically in the "normal" range, BUT I haven't been eating the way I usually do (i.e. like a fat piggy). Oh, an example of my symptoms - while writing this paragraph, I knew I was getting hungry. Suddenly, I began to feel weird in my head; then, I got really hot (like a menopausal hot flash) and started perspiring. By the time, I got my lunch ready, I was trembling and nauseated. All that in the span of about five minutes.
Saturday, we went to a family reunion and I did pretty well. There were a lot of starchy and fried foods and many desserts, but I didn't overeat and stuff myself. Then, one of my aunts, who is a chef and had brought a large sheet cake with chocolate butter cream frosting, got us to bring the cake home with us (more than half of the cake). I have done VERY well! I have only had a couple of pieces, though they have been larger than they should be (Lulz). I have not attacked it like a ravenous beast and collapsed in the corner, my face covered with chocolaty butter cream goodness (which is what I *would* have done).
So that's that.
The children go back to school next week. w00t!
I have been re-reading C. S. Lewis' Space Trilogy and am now almost finished with Book Three, That Hideous Strength. As a matter of fact, I shall proceed to devour the end of it now. It's sugar-freeeee! Lol! ;D
Therefore, it's no surprise I've followed in the hereditary footsteps of my forebears. Southern cooking is intrinsically unhealthy. Butter, salt, sugar, deep-frying, gravy. Yum! The difference between the folks of the past and those of us occupying the present is our lifestyle. As late as the 1950s, the Southern US was still predominantly an agricultural society. People worked the land and they worked hard. They didn't have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn to go jogging. By the time the sun was peeking over the treetops, they were already out in the field, sweating their own ass-cracks off. By the time lunch rolled around, they'd worked off that sausage and gravy they'd consumed at breakfast.
I, on the other hand, basically sit on my ass all day. Even my job skill consists of my sitting on my ass all day. This wouldn't be a problem if I exercised. Aubra's current job is a physically taxing one, but he didn't always work such a job. He used to have "white-collar" jobs, but he didn't gain 50 lbs. because he exercised. He likes to lift weights and run. Me, I'd rather not perspire, thanks. And, because of that, I now *have* to exercise, have to take a drug I wouldn't have had to take otherwise, and measure my food and cut my sugar intake to practically nil.
Therefore, while beginning to develop diabetes is not a *good* thing, it's a good thing. It forces me to take care of myself. It forces me to stop being selfish. It forces me to stop being a lazy-ass.
On Friday, my blood sugar was 231 and my A1C was 6. Normal A1C is up to 6, so, since I've only had definite symptoms for about 6 months, I'm just at the very cusp of it. The doctor prescribed Metformin and Lisinopril (low-dosage BP med to protect my kidneys), diabetic diet and exercise. I have to check my blood sugar every day and keep track of it on a chart he gave me. Then, I go back in a month to show him how I'm doing. He said, if I can get the blood sugar back down, I can come off the Metformin and control it with just with diet. The past two days, my sugar hasn't gone over 130, which is basically in the "normal" range, BUT I haven't been eating the way I usually do (i.e. like a fat piggy). Oh, an example of my symptoms - while writing this paragraph, I knew I was getting hungry. Suddenly, I began to feel weird in my head; then, I got really hot (like a menopausal hot flash) and started perspiring. By the time, I got my lunch ready, I was trembling and nauseated. All that in the span of about five minutes.
Saturday, we went to a family reunion and I did pretty well. There were a lot of starchy and fried foods and many desserts, but I didn't overeat and stuff myself. Then, one of my aunts, who is a chef and had brought a large sheet cake with chocolate butter cream frosting, got us to bring the cake home with us (more than half of the cake). I have done VERY well! I have only had a couple of pieces, though they have been larger than they should be (Lulz). I have not attacked it like a ravenous beast and collapsed in the corner, my face covered with chocolaty butter cream goodness (which is what I *would* have done).
So that's that.
The children go back to school next week. w00t!
I have been re-reading C. S. Lewis' Space Trilogy and am now almost finished with Book Three, That Hideous Strength. As a matter of fact, I shall proceed to devour the end of it now. It's sugar-freeeee! Lol! ;D