a Barak & Sheba Article

So... I have Diabetes...
April-ish, 2016

TLDR: I have type 2 diabetes. This is what it felt like, and what I plan to do about it.

I would say it might have been Wednesday... but the weekend before couldn't have helped... yummy! Had some time with two people I care about and we went on a small gourmet jaunt. Anyway, about Wednesday night, I wasn't feeling well. Again, nothing specific... just tired. And... maybe a little tingly.. or heavy all over. But, I pushed it aside. You know? The "I'll wait 'till tomorrow and see..." moment?

Friday night, I came out for the Bad Porn and Brownies… I have always thought that milk went great with brownies, so I brought three gallons to share with everyone. (It was on sale at Kroger.) I iced em down in the AIS Cooler, and was enjoying the event. I had a brownie or two, and washed each of them down with a full solo cup full of milk. It tasted sooo good. The brownies, sure. But it was really the milk. It was wonderful. Ice cold, and went down so quickly. I had another full cup, then another, then another. Over the course of the 2 hours, I must have finished most of the gallon of 2%.

Saturday morning, I was excited… Sheba was coming home. I couldn't wait! I picked her up, dragged her luggage in the house… and we spent time together. You know. Like you do when you haven't seen someone you love in a while. She was tired. Between the time change and 18 hours on a plane? It made sense. I offered to cook, so we could stay in.

We had some lovely red meat, cooked perfectly rare (I must say) along with the parmesan Orzo she loves. I served her plate, and lay mine down on the table. I grabbed the hospital jug that I frequently drink out of – you know the ones – 32oz, white opaque with the ounce markings – and filled it with ice water. Somewhere during the course of the meal, I finished the first jug.

Then, over the next 2 hours, I had 4 or 5 more full jugs of water. I noticed. I thought, this is a lot. I was drinking too much, and I was still thirsty. I couldn't get enough water – or any liquid for that matter. Plus… I was peeing constantly. I knew there was an issue. I didn't feel bad enough to go to an urgent care or a hospital, and like the stubborn nurse I am, I waited 'til my next work day. I figured I could get a second opinion from a Doc at the ED.

When I went to work on Tuesday, I didn't drink my regular morning coffee. I walked in, got report, and went straight to the glucometer and checked my blood sugar. I set everything up, popped the lancet into my waiting finger, and applied the blood to the extended tip of the meter. I waited, and waited as the little hourglass flipped over and over. Then, there in big LCD black… the number. “280.” Damn. I know what this means. I'll check it again in a little while, in case it’s a fluke. But in the meantime? I'm calling my doctor.

I couldn't get anyone, so I went to lunch. The ER got busier and busier. But my eyesight was blurring just slightly, and I was feeling weird again. My first free moment, about 2 hours after lunch, I grabbed the glucometer again, and repeated the earlier procedure. Fuck. This time the reading was 305. Not good. I reached for the phone again.

I called my Doctor and was able to get an appt... They had an appt on Thursday morning. I jumped at it. Then, I made a deal with myself – if my glucose spiked past 325, I was going to check in as a patient to the ER, where I was working. I began checking my glucose after meals, and then the next morning for a fasting one. Damn. Even after a good night's sleep and plenty of water, it was 209. After 20 years as an RN, I know what that means. Type 2 Diabetes.

This morning arrived, and the Doctor confirmed my diagnosis. Non-Insulin Dependent Diabetes Mellitus – more commonly known as Adult onset or Type 2 Diabetes. We spoke about ways to decrease my glucose, including diet, exercise and medication. We also went through the referrals. First to see a nutritionist, to make meal plans and discuss what foods I should go for, and which I should avoid. Then to an ophthalmologist, to check in on the blurry vision. And finally to a podiatrist, to teach me about the health and well-being of my feet.

I drove off, feeling both relieved and concerned. Sheba and I had been talking about getting back into shape, and modifying our diet. Apparently now is the time. I tooled around, waiting for the called in prescriptions to be ready. Then I went and picked up the large bag. It contained the usual diabetic supplies, a small glucometer, the sticks, those lancets, and some Metformin. As I spread the contents on the coffee table, I reflected.

Admittedly, I am a hedonist. My lustiness extends though many parts of my life. I love and thrive on sex. Second to that? It's food. Both Sheba and I are foodies. We love rich and tasty foods. Of course there are more… And while I can keep many of my lusts – there are going to have to be some adaptations to take care of me. Aside from diet, I have some hereditary predispositions – Both my grandfather and uncle on my mother's side had diabetes.

This isn't one of those things I can take lightly either. As an ER nurse, I have seen too many people not heed their physicians and their health… much to their ending dismay. Diabetes isn't something to fuck around with. Chronic high blood sugars can lead to fatal nastiness like heart attacks, strokes, high blood pressure, kidney failure… and significant impairments like blindness, neuropathy, amputations, infections… and other stuff that isn't very fun.

One good thing - I caught this early. With diligence, it's highly likely that with some permanent lifestyle changes in my diet and exercise regiment, I will live to the same ripe old age as my grandfather – 91… well, that is if Sheba doesn't get tired of me and smother me with a pillow… or her gorgeous butt… ahhh.. but what a way to go though, eh?

Barak (& Sheba)

©2016 Barak & Brat Sheba

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