Fear Factor

For the most part I think I'm handling my diabetes diagnosis pretty well, but there are moments when I fear that the worst will happen to me: that I'll go blind, that I'll lose a leg, that I'll have a heart attack. At the moment, my blood sugar is under control, but I feel like I'm balancing a tower of stacked blocks: make one wrong move and everything will come tumbling down.

This is why I'm taking extra care to improve my health. I'm eating better, I'm losing weight, I'm exercising and I'm taking all of my meds and insulin on schedule. Still, I know that diabetes isn't completely under my control. Since I'm 37 and fairly young, I worry about what kind of life I will lead when I'm 50 -- or even if I'll make it to that age. To say that this is a life or death situation isn't an exaggeration; knowing that everything depends on my choices EVERY DAY is a bit daunting.

In a weird way, though, my diabetes could be what ultimately turns my life around. I've been battling my weight for about 18 years now and haven't been able to get down to a healthy size. Now I've had the fear of going blind knocked into me and it's suddenly made cookies look very unappealing!

I hope that I can continue to improve my health and my life. I've had a good month, but I was only diagnosed a few weeks ago. I have to keep this up for the next month and the one after that, and then for the next year, and then the rest of my life. There's no question that I'm getting physically stronger, but I need my mental strength to get me through this for the longhaul.

The Eyes Have It

One of the fun things that comes with having diabetes is having eye problems. The eyes are very sensitive when it comes to high blood sugar, which sometimes leads to blindness. This freaks me the fuck out because I already have hearing issues (not from anything diabetes-related; I was born with a slight hearing loss), and I'd hate to lose my vision, as well. Being deaf would suck, especially since I am a musician, but being blind would be even worse, in my opinion.

I was very concerned, then, when my vision recently went blurry. It happened almost suddenly; one minute, I could see fine and the next, the world looked as if I were seeing it through a sheet of plastic. I couldn't understand why it was happening when my blood sugar had DROPPED over 300 points.

I finally got my official answer today: the eye's lens changes shape when your blood sugar is high. Mine had to compensate for my bs being over 400. After my sugar dropped, the lens had to change back ... and that's why my eyes went blurry.

The good news is that it's clearing up and I got a clean bill of eye health. The doctor says that my vision is actually better than 20/20 and that in a weird way, the blurred vision is a good thing since it's a reaction to my sugar going down. I was very relieved to hear this!

But boy are eye exams WEIRD. Honestly, I'd never had one before today so I wasn't sure what to expect. This particular office was extremely modern, so I felt as if I were entering the future. I then had my eyes dilated and they had me look through machines that had all kinds of colored dots and lights, and whatnnot. They played with my lids, had me roll my eyes in every direction until I was going cross-eyed. Finally, they injected a yellow dye into my arm that somehow went to my eyes and made it easier for them to see the retina. That part wasn't so strange, but the dye turned my pee neon yellow.

I don't know if it's because my vision was wonky due to the tests, but this office seriously had the best-looking doctors I've ever seen. I love my husband, but man, the main doctor was sooooo cute. When he asked me to look up at him, I was like, "Yes, please!"

I don't have another appointment for eight months, but knowing that I will get to ogle Dr. Hotness is yet another reason for me to keep my blood sugar at a good level!

Before I sign off, let me leave you with a funny story: before my appointment, I was waiting in the lobby and was sitting opposite a huge plaque that had the names of big donors. At the moment, my right eye is clearer than my left, so I put my hand over my right eye and was trying to get my left one to focus. I finally focused in on a particular name on that plaque of bigwig donors ... Madoff. I was surprised that they even kept it up there and didn't scrape off the letters.

What can I say? Seeing IS believing...

Going Green

I've always liked salads, but they've become a huge part of my "diabetes-friendly" eating plan. It's recommended that we eat several servings of veggies, anyway, but I find that they're a great way to fill me up now that my choices are a bit more limited.

My idea of the perfect salad is pretty simple: some mixed greens (I love baby spinach), red onions, sliced carrots, beets, red cabbage, cucumbers, a few olives, about a Tbsp of chickpeas and a sprinkling of cheese. I then have a low-fat or fat-free dressing on the side. I try to keep my salads colorful and add a little protein, but I don't like to go overboard with toppings. I like my greens to take center stage.

What's weird is that lately I've been craving salads! In the past, I'd eat one if it were given to me with a dish, but I didn't really go out of my way for one. Now I have to have one at every meal. I'm definitely getting at least five servings of veggies -- and then some.

Last night, I met up with some friends and we went to a vegetarian restaurant in the city aptly called Vegetarian's Paradise II. Their claim to fame is they serve various "meat" dishes made out of tofu, seitan and the like. I had a salad with grilled "chicken" and then enjoyed a stir fry that contained "chicken," "meat" and a variety of vegetables. Both dishes were delicious and the soy products really did taste like meat (though my husband disagrees). I was satisfied, but not too full when I finished, and even better, the meal barely made my blood sugar move. Woo hoo!

I don't know if I could ever become a full-fledged vegetarian (I like meat too much), but I am trying to eat less meat and more proteins like beans and tofu. In any case, I'm definitely feeling the change that has come with improving my eating plan. I have more energy, am sleeping better and am generally in a better mood. And what's weird is that I'm not craving sugar as much as I thought I would. I'm still eating fruit and yogurt, so I get the sweet taste, but I'm not dying for cakes and cookies. I know that there are sugar-free versions of sweets out there, so I can have if I want, but right now, I don't.

I've always thought of myself as having a sweet tooth, but I'm beginning to realize that maybe I don't so much. I haven't entirely broken up with sugar, but we're definitely in the middle of a separation.

Holding Steady And Trippin' Out

My blood sugar seems to finally be stabilizing. During my first week on insulin, my sugar would sometimes fluctuate from 400 to 200 and back again. Now, however, it's hovering around the low 100s with occasional dips into the 90s and even 80s. A friend and I went for a walk tonight after dinner and my blood sugar managed to stay the same, even after the exercise. It was nice to be able to get a little workout in and not feel that "low" afterward, as I did when I went swimming this past weekend.

My vision is also starting to improve. I'm seeing an eye specialist on Friday and it'll be funny if I can once again see perfectly well by then. Still, I know that it's important to get my vision checked, anyway. Honestly, out of all the things that could go wrong from diabetes, losing my sight freaks me out the most. I'm a very visual person, who also happens to be a writer and jewelry maker. I can deal with having to wear glasses, but I am frightened that I'll eventually go blind. That said, I plan to see the eye doctor every few months.

Meanwhile, I've been having a lot of weird "visions" at night. Since I've been taking insulin, I've had some very odd, vivid dreams that feature bright colors. In one, my parents were hosting a huge dinner party for The Beatles and I was hoping that I'd get to play my flute with them. In another, my sister-in-law and her husband took me out to dinner, then abandoned me so that they could sit in the "all naked" section. Then last night, I dreamed that we were visiting a haunted ruin that housed rabid cats. I've never done drugs, but I imagine that this is what it feels like to drop acid.

I wondered if I'm the only diabetic who's experienced this so I did a search and it turns out that insulin dreams are fairly common. I can't say I mind. I love dreams and even kept a dream diary for a while; it's kind of like getting to see a surprise movie in your sleep. So this is a side effect that I welcome -- The Beatles can visit me anytime!

Some may read this blog and get the impression that I think my diabetes is a joke since I make fun of it so much. I really don't think that. However, I do have to maintain my sense of humor as I deal with this. Besides, laughing lowers blood sugar, so it's all good.

Diabetes Police

My parents are having a difficult time with my diagnosis, mainly because they don't know a whole lot about diabetes.

My dad gave me an "I told you so" lecture about my weight. Yes, he actually said, "I told you so." I don't expect to be coddled or lied to or pitied -- I know the risks that come with having this disease -- but I'd like to be treated with respect, as well. I mean, I already have the fucking disease, so haven't I learned my "lesson?" Jeez.

My in-laws are much cooler about the whole thing, probably because I'm not their bio daughter and they didn't know me as a little kid. They've been very supportive and encouraging. They're philosophy is, "It is what it is; we can't turn back the clock and change things, let's deal with it."

Meanwhile, my mom thinks that every food is off-limits. Every time I mention a food that I plan to eat or ate, she asks, "Are you allowed?" She's questioned me having eggs, lamb, hummus, beans, brown rice, onions, cheese ... she really doesn't have a clue. I'm wondering if I should print out a list and get a nutritionist's signature on it so she can stop.

I know they mean well and are just concerned, but I have to keep repeating that because they're being hella annoying. I'm not a parent, so I suppose that I might act the same way if my kid were diagnosed with diabetes. But I like to think that I'd be encouraging -- that I'd be the type to do some research so I can find good diabetic recipes and that I'd cheer my kid on as his or her blood sugar dropped. I would never, ever, ever say, "I told you so." Even without being a parent, I can guarantee this.

I know that I'm going to have to stand up for myself and make my needs clear, even if it means angering them. But this is my disease and my fight, and I can't let anyone make me more stressed than I already am.

HubPages Post On Type II Diabetes

I've written a post about my experience with diabetes for HubPages:

Do I Have Diabetes?


Please check it out!

Highs And Lows

I've been officially diagnosed as a Type II diabetic for two weeks now, and I'm learning is that it's a constant balancing act. Sometimes my blood sugar can dip too low unexpectedly, and sometimes it will spike. I'm getting better at recognizing the warning signs and keeping it within an acceptable range, but I still haven't quite mastered this disease.

Take today, for example. We spent the night at my in-laws so I asked them to pick up some diabetes-friendly food for me. I began the day with my bs at a nice 97, then had a healthy breakfast of Cheerios, whole wheat toast and coffee. Lunch was a veggie burger, salad and low-fat yogurt. We then went downstairs to swim because it was such a gorgeous day. I did a few laps and treaded water for about a half hour, but didn't feel exhausted; I just felt relaxed. In fact, after I emerged from the pool to dry off, I ended up falling asleep in the lounge chair.

Once we were back inside, though, I suddenly felt dizzy. My whole body started shaking and I was afraid that I might pass out; this is when I realized that I was having a "low," that my little workout had lowered my bs enough so that I was feeling it. I had a snack of cheese and fruit and the lightheadedness soon went away. I'm just glad that this happened in my in-laws' home and not on the train back to the city.

I think that I'm doing well so far in managing my diabetes, but I know that mistakes will be made along the way. I'm sure that I'll eat foods that cause a significant spike or have another "low" moment. Still, my numbers seem to be stabilizing as there's less fluctuation between meals, and I'm definitely losing weight. My bathing suit top almost slipped off of me today, which is a good thing! I don't expect to be perfect in this fight, but I do want to be prepared as a can. Surviving this weekend has given me even more confidence.

Taking Advantage Of A Bad Situation

While I'm certainly not happy to have diabetes, I figure that as long as I am dealing with, I can milk it for all it's worth.

The other day, my husband and I went out to eat at our favorite Tex-Mex restaurant. I ordered the veggie fajitas (skipping the tortillas), which comes with chips and dip. When I asked if I could get a garden salad instead, the waiter apologized and said that they can't make that substitute. I explained that I'm diabetic and that I was willing to pay extra for the salad ... and he ended up giving it to me for free. Thanks, Diabetes!

Also recently, I hailed an off-duty cab in the city when I was going back to my office after a doctor's appointment. The driver said he couldn't take me downtown, but when I made a big deal about how I was sick, he gave in and took me.

I normally don't believe in using a weakness to get ahead. I try not to cry in public because I don't want people feeling sorry for me, and when I was briefly in a wheelchair from my broken leg, I didn't want anyone to go out of his or her way. Still, it was nice to find that there is at least a little bit of a silver lining in having this disease.

Little Pricks

One of the questions I get asked the most is if it hurts to check my blood sugar or give myself insulin shots. No, it really doesn't, though after breaking my leg and having to have my bone popped back into place, my tolerance for pain has increased greatly.

Checking blood sugar is more annoying than painful. I have a One-Touch Ultra, which comes with a little needle that you pull back, and then it kind of ricochets into your finger. You then place the drop of blood on a test strip and it gives you a glucose reading. It hurts about as much as it does when you dig your nail into your finger (which isn't much), but sometimes I just can't get out enough blood. There are days when I get it on the first try, but then other times, I have to prick my fingers over and over again to get them to bleed enough -- even if I use a brand-new needle. I don't know why my fingers are so uncooperative, but they can suddenly turn against me when it comes to this task.

I try to make it "fun," though by turning the whole thing into a game. As the meter counts down from 5, I try to guess what my blood sugar number will be. I also find myself humming that song from Little Shop Of Horrors -- the one where Seymour has to prick his fingers to feed blood to Audrey II. Plus, it's kind of cool to watch the test strip suck up the drop of blood. I've nicknamed them "vampire strips."

As for the insulin shots, the only thing that's uncomfortable about them is that they're injected into my stomach. The location freaked me out at first, but I'm getting used to it, and they really do hurt at all. They make the needles so thin that they just slip right into your body. They do leave a tiny mark, but that's it. I'm wondering, though, if I can arrange the marks into a cool design -- sort of like George Seurat did with his pointillism.

Other than that, these tasks aren't so bad. They take up very little of my time and it's so, so important that I get them done every day. So I do what I can to deal with them and try to stay positive about the whole process.

The Dreaded Diagnosis

I expected to get bad news at my last doctor visit, but I was shocked when I was told just how bad my situation was: blood sugar over 400, high cholesterol, high triglycerides, fatty liver. Yikes. Yep, I had Type II diabetes and, the doctor warned, I was thisclose to having to be hospitalized. My heart -- which, at this point, I was amazed was still beating -- caught in my throat, and I felt as if I were coming apart at the seams. Still, I kept calm and somehow managed to keep it together as I was shown how to test my blood sugar and how to inject myself with insulin. However, as I later left the office, I broke down on a park bench. I knew that my life would never be the same, and that I was partially responsible.

Oh, I don't blame myself for getting the disease, but I do wish I'd taken better care of myself for the past few years. I don't smoke and I'm not a big drinker, but I have a checkered relationship with food. I was a skinny teen with a history of eating disorders, and then chubbed out in college. Fast forward to my adult years (I'm now 37) and I became morbidly obese. I'd diet, lose weight, binge, gain weight, diet, lose weight ... you get the picture. I'm a statistic in the dieting world, one of the 95 percent who manages to gain back the lost weight and then some.

I thought I'd finally broken the cycle a few years ago when I lost 100 pounds and completed a 20-mile walk. Unfortunately, the weight slowly came back on; then last year, I broke my leg and needed surgery. I could walk after three months and did PT, but my leg was still weak and sore for a long time afterward. I was inactive for nearly a year and ended up reaching my highest weight ever. I could barely walk -- not from the leg -- but from simply weighing so much. It was a nightmare.

I finally began to lose weight last spring when we visited Greece. I'd walk a block and have to sit down to rest, but I managed to walk all over Athens and even climbed up to the Parthenon. In the 10 days we were there, I lost about 10 pounds (fat people lose a lot of weight at first). I thought I was on my way to good health once again.

Then I got sick.

It started out with a really bad cold. I figured that I got it on the plane home, but this cold just wouldn't go away. Then came the thirst. I'm not talking the type of thirst you have after you've eaten something spicy; this was a full body thirst. I wanted icy, cold drinks and couldn't get enough of them -- the colder, the better. I seriously dreamed of jumping into a pool filled with strawberry smoothies. My body was hot and dry, and the only times I felt good were when I took a cold shower or took a dip in a cold pool.

Of course, drinking so much meant I had to use the facilities. All the time. Urgently. I had near accidents in the supermarket, on the bus and in Central Park. Of course, I was up all night because I had to go every hour, sometimes more. Because I wasn't sleeping, I was tired -- all the time.

I eventually ended up with another horrible cold, this one worse than the other. I lost my voice, my vision went blurry and I had no appetite. I knew that something was wrong and I was pretty certain that it was the big D. I'd made an appointment with an endocrinologist, but it was a few weeks away. I stupidly figured that I could wait. Besides, I was began to feel better. Knowing that I probably had diabetes, I tried to eat better foods and cut out sugars and some carbs. My husband and I even took a trip to the Poconos, where we enjoyed an active weekend swimming and boating.

Finally, I saw the doctor and she delivered the bad news. As bad as it was, though, it was a relief to get the diagnosis and know that help was on the way.

So far, things have improved greatly. My blood sugar is now down in the 100s (it even hit 96 the other night) and I have more energy. I'm sleeping better and no longer have that horrible thirst. I'm also training for a diabetes walk and have completely overhauled my diet.

This is the beginning of my journey, but I hope that as I go along, my health will get better. I hope that my story will inspire people to take care of themselves and get checked out if they suspect that something is wrong. As for me, I have to do whatever it takes to get well. I don't have a choice: it's do or die -- literally.