A Horrible Warning

I Am So Awesome, I Need TWO Blogs

I think I mentioned before that I didn't want to turn this blog into a whole lot of bitching and belly-aching about the whole diabetic extravaganza.

I feel so strongly about it that I have started a whole new blog dedicated to just that. What is a blog for if not to bitch and belly-ache?

And update every 10 days or so just to keep things interesting AND current. I am here to meet the needs and expectations of the people.

So if you are so inclined (dude, I will totally not be offended if you think it's boring and self-indulgent...it probably is...hello, navel, so nice to gaze at you!), check out my alter ego, Former Carb Queen. I am hoping that creating this extra outlet will free up my carb-deprived mind and soul from the impotence that has been blogger's angst over these past few weeks. I feel like I haven't had any good viable passable embarrassing non-D related ideas in awhile, and maybe if I can just get rid of those fuckers (the diabetes obsessed subjects, I mean) I can get back to enjoying my blog again. Or at least figure out something to write about for it.

If nothing else, at least I'm royalty (or rather former royalty) somewhere. You know you want to kiss my ring.

And to answer the question that you surely have: no, this blog will not suffer from this turn of events.

Because seriously, how could it get any worse?

*Edited to add: stay tuned for tales of religious guilt, the countdown to the big 3-5, and heroin overdose. Cheery!

Quick, Say Something Funny...Nah, I've Got Nothing

Y'all, this hectic schedule of writing posts roughly every 10 days or so has become utterly exhausting. I just don't know how I keep up with it all.

*Snort*

I was looking at my last post earlier, and while I'm glad I wrote it and meant every word, I'm sorry I left it up for so long. It's kind of a downer.

So now I'm trying to think of a funny story...usually I am full of them. Maybe I will think of one to end with. For now, I will just try to counteract all the previous navel gazing with something, um, less navel gazing.

I'm a little over a month into all of these major adjustments, and it's been rather...undramatic. I mean, there have been moments, for sure. But all of the build-up in my head was so much worse than reality. I'm starting to get used to eating "low carb" (I put that in quotes because there are so many definitions of low carb...for me at the moment it is defined as considerably less than when I was the Carb Queen). I'm getting some level of control over my blood sugar, and doing the finger stick test thingy is getting to be second nature. Most of the time I'm feeling the benefits of eating better (but I am still trying to figure this all out, so sometimes I still feel a bit off).

I'm also becoming accustomed to EB being so far away most of the time. I still don't love it of course, but we have always had times of separation between his job, my school and running, and our families living on opposite coasts. The 300 miles just requires a bit more planning. And a lot more patience.

Thursday before last I called him to try and nail down plans to finally spend some time together. I got his voicemail, so I left a flirty dirty message. About an hour later, he called me back. The conversation went something like this (I've redacted some of the grosser parts):

EB - What are you up to?

HW - Laying in bed, thinking about you...

EB (sounding like a total perv) - Oh really?

HW - Yep...so do I get to see you this weekend?

EB - I can do better than that.

HW - Oh really? How is that?

EB - Why don't you come open your front door and find out?

HW - (May have squealed) You're here?!?

EB - Well come open the door and find out.

HW - (Opens door and sees handsome man standing there waiting...fights urge to fling herself at him...but is compelled to grab him in a very tight hug...then has another horrifying thought) - Hi!! I can't believe you're here!! I can't believe my house is in worse shape now than the last time you were here...What a great surprise!

It was an amazing surprise, unvacuumed carpet and running dishwasher and clothes dryer aside (it was very noisy at my place in more ways than one that night). He hadn't spent more than a couple of (waking) hours with me in about 6 weeks, plus he had just driven 4 hours. He may not even have noticed.

OK, I can't think of a funny story for you right now. I know tales of me embarrassing myself is why you come here, but like me, you will have to grow some patience. OK?

I promise, I'll think of something. Or do something, just for your amusement. See how much I love you?

*edited to add: EB called tonight right after I started writing this, and we talked for an hour...it was one of the best phone conversations we've had in a long time...and certainly one of the longest...sadly, this post kind of sucks because of it...you know, in the interest of full disclosure.

Who Needs Therapy?!? I Have a Freakin Blog!

I can't believe it's been 10 days since I've posted!

Wait, I kinda can. I've been very neglectful. I even neglected to bring my laptop with me on my flight to LAX on Friday night. I totally forfeited a serious blogging opportunity.

Even now, I'm truncating my post somewhat (I LIE!! This post is ridiculously long and slightly navel-gazing...you have been warned!!) because it's after 10, and one of the things I am focusing on in 2008 is getting something close to a decent night's sleep. So far? Um, dismal failure. But I am trying...

One of the other things I've been focusing on is being a better diabetic. I'm doing better on that front, although it's a day to day struggle.

The biggest thing I have done is to change my diet. One of the things that surprised me when I started researching the big D was that it isn't necessarily sugar that is so terrible for diabetics, but sugars...high carb stuff like bread and pasta, and high starch stuff like potatoes. I haven't given anything up completely, but I don't keep any of that in my house anymore (except for high fiber, low carb sandwich bread, and I've even cut down on that). I'm eating more meat and vegetables and eggs, and less processed white foods.

I'm only 3+ weeks in to my effort to take control of my metabolism. I am proud to say that I'm taking regular blood glucose readings, and that the changes are making a huge difference. For the most part, I'm already seeing numbers that are close to what someone without diabetes would get.

The food thing is, and probably always will be, a huge challenge. I am the self-proclaimed carb queen, and I have abdicated my throne, very reluctantly. I'm certain that you all have a very good idea what I'm talking about because we've all been on a diet...or at least attempted to eat healthy.

But the thing that is the hardest for me as a newbie is how to talk about it. I worry about talking about it too much and appearing to be seeking attention or a drama queen. I worry about avoiding the subject and appearing to be in denial or secretive. I worry about taking it too seriously. And I worry about not taking it seriously enough.

Right now, I'm erring on the side of honesty. The fact of the matter is that I am diabetic, it is a big deal in my life at the moment, and it is a disease that if not properly dealt with or ignored, can have very serious consequences. I think once I adjust to it, it will fade into being just another facet of my life like my pechant for falling down randomly...something that is anecdotal rather than central. But right now it is smack in the middle of my existence, and I have to allow myself to validate its importance and not feel bad about it.

However, there is something I do feel bad about...sort of. I did something kind of manipulative and bitchy. I made my mom test her blood sugar. In front of our entire nuclear family and one family friend.

She freaked the fuck out and refused at first. She acted like she was afraid of the finger stick, but I knew she was really afraid to see the results (welcome to the club, Mom!). We SHAMED HER INTO IT. You see, having a diabetic relative increases your risk. My diagnosis was the straw that broke the camel's back...she already had pretty much every other risk factor there is.

Ultimately everyone in the room tested. We had all eaten the same meal. Both of my sisters, my dad, and our friend were all within 5 points of each other, in a very safe zone. I was about 25 points higher, which was about 10 points shy of my high threshhold. My mom was almost 100 points higher than me (keep in mind I've been eating low carb and she hasn't). She was almost double the others.

I'm pretty sure my mom is diabetic, too. But I don't feel triumphant for being right to make her test. I don't want to tell her I told her so. I feel terrible for doing this to her. It is so out of character for me; I am a lot of things, but manipulative to this point is not one of them.

I did it out of desperation. I want her to deal with it and take care of herself. I want her to be healthy. I want her to see my children someday.

I'm afraid she won't and I can't make her. I'm afraid I'm going to have to watch her, helpless, while I'm fighting the battle myself. I'm afraid I will get frustrated and say awful things I can't take back.

And I'm not sure if being a pushy know-it-all bitch qualifies as being a better diabetic. I do hope, though, that it makes me a good daughter. 

I Have Plenty of Freakin Time Now

I know it's shocking, but my flight from SMF (Sacramento International Aiport, not Stupid MotherFucker as I would alternately like to call it at moments such as these) to LAX is currently delayed by over an hour.

Naturally, this does not thrill me. But at least I am here instead of suck-ass LAX, where there is no free WiFi. I have the entire internet available for my personal entertainment. Except for the porn, of course. I'm sure there is some Homeland Security type rule that prohibits porn on the airport WiFi. I don't want to be hauled off to some tiny room and be handcuffed naked to a chair. Wait, I am not an elected official so that's unlikely. Plus I'm guessing most of them like that sort of thing anyway.

So since I finally have a free moment, or 60, I can fill y'all in.

I'm sure you remember the glucose tolerance test I got to take whined about taking a couple of weeks ago (stupid aside: I almost started that sentence with the word "so." It has become clear to me that I wish to start all sentences, or at least the vast majority, the very same way. I'm not sure what this means, but it can't bode well for my writing future). Last Friday I had an appointment with Dr. Jackass to discuss the results. I can sum it up for you in 3 sentences. Count with me: 1. I am diabetic. 2. Like with every other thing that has been wrong with me, he thinks the sole solution to this is for me to lose weight. 3. I am super duper uber glad he's leaving my medical group.

I'm not in total denial here (anymore). Of course losing weight will have a significant impact on my health and blood sugar. It may be possible that I can even reverse this. But merely losing weight will not be enough. I also have to make very good choices in what I eat, choices that are much more specifc than joining Weight Watchers and crossing my fingers that the right number of points = the right level of blood sugar. For that, I will need guidance, and he gave me zero of that. Controlling it with diet and exercise requires a plan that I am not equipped to design alone.

This is where being my own advocate a raving bitch ought to come in handy.

It's not the end of the world. It does suck, but it could suck so much harder. I could have to take pills. I could have to inject insulin. I could have not caught it until there was a lot of damage.

It's going to force me to take better care of myself.

In some backwards fucked up way, it could make my life better. Yeah, it could be a lot worse.