I used to be one of those people who honestly believed that food did not affect how I felt. I thought that people who really felt that food affected their physical selves (other than, like, stuffing themselves on Thanksgiving) were kind of neurotic and somehow making it up.

I am sooooo not that person anymore. Yesterday I had to take a glucose tolerance test in preparation for my endocrinologist appointment tomorrow. I’ve been putting this off for weeks, and yesterday was the last possible day. So I went into the lab on an empty stomach, got my fasting blood sugar drawn, then proceeded to drink a bottle of orange syrup. I tried not to think about it too much but it was pretty awful. Luckily, I kept it down (have not always in the past). Then I went to a waiting room to sit and wait for an hour, get my blood drawn again, wait another hour, get it drawn again.

I didn’t feel so bad while I was there. I had my computer, and free Wi-Fi, and I kept myself fairly amused while I waited. But then I tried to go to work. And then I tried to go to my trainer to workout. NO.

I was a total space cadet at work, even for a brief few hours. I couldn’t think. I went to the gym and said, “All you’re gonna get out of me is an hour of Dead Man’s Pose.” He laughed. I did a bunch of stretching and some verrrrrrry gentle conditioning stuff. I felt totally dizzy and ill.

I felt as if I did not get some protein in me, namely a turkey sandwich, I would die. I went to the little sandwich shop near my house and inhaled a turkey and cheese sandwich. (no, it was not slow eating by any stretch) It didn’t really help.

Went home. Passed out for several hours. Didn’t really feel capable of preparing or eating dinner. Told my family “you’re on your own.” (we call this YOYO dinner) They scraped something together. I slept.  Much later, I got up, had a bowl of tomato soup, put on my jammies and watched Rachel Getting Married. (which, by the way, I LOVED on so many levels) But I was hopeless. Completely hopeless and helpless all evening. I couldn’t wait to go to bed and have it be over.

So yeah. This was the worst case of postprandial fatigue I’d ever experienced. This was taking “sleepiness after lunch” to extreme degrees.  It was the first time I’d ingested so much sugar since January- I’d had one piece of lemon tart, and a piece of birthday cake, but those were smaller amounts of sugar on a full stomach.  This was a huge quantity of glucose on an empty stomach. IT KILLED ME. I haven’t felt this bad unless I’ve been really, really ill.

I’m worried that my severe reaction means that maybe in spite of everything, I do have diabetes. But maybe not. I really have no idea. I guess  I’ll find out tomorrow.

I feel one thousand percent better today. So, the lesson for the week is, yes, the food I eat DOES affect how I feel. I feel like I don’t want to eat carbs or sugar for a very, very long time.