as if i needed more on my mind
in the past week, i have grown all too familiar with the sight of my own blood. the sounds of doctors' offices. the sensory experiences of more lab work: the awful snap of rubber gloves, the crumple of plastic-wrapped syringes, the squeeze of the tourniquet on my upper arm, the gentle tap on the inside of my elbow as the nurse locates a vein. the pinch. the sting. more cotton.
i have dropped from 137 pounds (my average) to 114. in the last three weeks alone, i've lost more than 10 pounds. and i've been eating like a horse. at my birthday-present spa retreat this weekend, i put on my bathing suit to sit in the hot tub, and it practically fell off my hips. because i don't have hips anymore. because i'm one hundred and fourteen fucking pounds.
this has been the most terrifying experience of my life.
also. please note. i hate needles. i hate needles. i hate needles. and then i found out today that i better get used to them. because i finally got an answer: i have diabetes.
at least i have an answer. at least i'll be able to start gaining the weight back. but this whole fucking thing is so fucking overwhelming, i don't even know what to do. apparently the wicked infection i had this summer triggered the diabetes by causing my pancreas to shut down. they think. but what the fuck? how does a pancreas just decide to shut down? hello, mr. pancreas, i thought we were part of a team here. lazy fucking bastard.
so, tomorrow, the onslaught of more doctors' appointments begins. i have to see an opthomologist (because diabetes can cause eye failure), a general practicitioner (so i can have one doc keeping track of all this), a registered dietitian (for my special diabetic diet) and an endocrynologist - for the possibilty of daily insulin injections.
i just finished emptying my kitchen of everything with refined sugar in it: ice cream, cookies, jam, fruit juice, syrup, popsicles, the works. turns out everything i love has refined sugar in it. sweet. (no pun intended)
i get a sexy little "diabetic" medic alert bracelet to wear, too. so stylish!
and, finally, my new best friend is a glucometer. five times a day i get to prick myself with a needle (remember how much we LOVE those) to test my own blood sugar. awesome! i named it Rhonda, although I'm open to suggestions. remember though - it has to be a good name. this puppy is going to be with me at all times for the next... well, forever.
after such a wretched summer, it's hard not to feel the "why me" factor. but i'm trying. just keep your fingers crossed for me that i won't have to give myself daily insulin injections. this is already way more than i feel like i can handle.
please, can i just rewind the last five months and start over?
i have dropped from 137 pounds (my average) to 114. in the last three weeks alone, i've lost more than 10 pounds. and i've been eating like a horse. at my birthday-present spa retreat this weekend, i put on my bathing suit to sit in the hot tub, and it practically fell off my hips. because i don't have hips anymore. because i'm one hundred and fourteen fucking pounds.
this has been the most terrifying experience of my life.
also. please note. i hate needles. i hate needles. i hate needles. and then i found out today that i better get used to them. because i finally got an answer: i have diabetes.
at least i have an answer. at least i'll be able to start gaining the weight back. but this whole fucking thing is so fucking overwhelming, i don't even know what to do. apparently the wicked infection i had this summer triggered the diabetes by causing my pancreas to shut down. they think. but what the fuck? how does a pancreas just decide to shut down? hello, mr. pancreas, i thought we were part of a team here. lazy fucking bastard.
so, tomorrow, the onslaught of more doctors' appointments begins. i have to see an opthomologist (because diabetes can cause eye failure), a general practicitioner (so i can have one doc keeping track of all this), a registered dietitian (for my special diabetic diet) and an endocrynologist - for the possibilty of daily insulin injections.
i just finished emptying my kitchen of everything with refined sugar in it: ice cream, cookies, jam, fruit juice, syrup, popsicles, the works. turns out everything i love has refined sugar in it. sweet. (no pun intended)
i get a sexy little "diabetic" medic alert bracelet to wear, too. so stylish!
and, finally, my new best friend is a glucometer. five times a day i get to prick myself with a needle (remember how much we LOVE those) to test my own blood sugar. awesome! i named it Rhonda, although I'm open to suggestions. remember though - it has to be a good name. this puppy is going to be with me at all times for the next... well, forever.
after such a wretched summer, it's hard not to feel the "why me" factor. but i'm trying. just keep your fingers crossed for me that i won't have to give myself daily insulin injections. this is already way more than i feel like i can handle.
please, can i just rewind the last five months and start over?