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Susan

writer, memoirist, foodie

Star Student at Diabetes School!

Today I took my first class at the Diabetes Center. I have to say, it was really hard to wait for this because while I had the knowledge of my diagnosis, and I had started medication, I had NO IDEA what was going on in my body and it was all a bit crazy-making. I also was having these weird grief reactions while walking through the grocery store this weekend: omg CRACKERS (never again!!), ICE CREAM (never again!!!!!!!!) etc etc and just sort of flipping out but not really knowing why.

So finally I got to get some reality which I was sorely needing.

First, though: I got to the place and I was BY FAR the youngest person in the room. Most of the other attendees were 20 or 30 years older than me and looked pretty much a lot worse for wear. One woman came in, in a wheelchair, and was a double above-the-knee amputee. That was… sobering. I have no idea if this was diabetes related but I have been having nightmares about this for a week.

So we went around the room and were supposed to say our names, what kind of D we had, and when we got diagnosed. I was also the newest “newbie” at less than one week. It was interesting to me how many people got diagnosed 3-6 weeks ago and have not come in until now. (believe me, I took the FIRST POSSIBLE OPENING) Some people have had diabetes for 15+ years. One had had it for 40. I was really agog, like WTH? Really?

One guy sitting next to me said he’d gotten diagnosed 5 years ago, tested for a year or so, but never got a good result on his blood meter, so just gave up on it. Then he had a heart attack, and here he is trying to get back on the wagon again. That pretty much boggled me.

Then there was this woman who was sitting there chugging a bottle of GRAPE JUICE (ahem? and none of the nurses or dieticians said a word!!!) and she was saying how she couldn’t give up fried food because she grew up on it and it was all she was used to. And when the nurse was discussing that the range of blood sugar should be 70-120 she let out this hoot like, “That’s normal people!” and the nurse goes, yes, that’s the range we are aiming for and the woman was like, she aint’ NEVER seen those numbers EVER.

I do not think I could have that job. (teaching the class)

So there was a whole bunch of talk about what is diabetes, blah blah, which I’ve pretty much figured out, and then the all -important WHAT DO WE EAT question, and the diet they were discussing seems to be a lot more food than I am currently eating, and she said it all depends on what your Meter says. And I’m jiggling my knee going, when are we going to get the damn meters?

Two hours later. FINALLY. The meter people come and give out tote bags and a sales pitch for test strips and what-all and I’m like, LET ME TEST MY BLOOD!!!! I was so antsy at this point I was about to start shrieking and stabbing at myself with a plastic fork.  They showed us our cute little meters, and we all plugged in the needles and learned how to lock and load the stabbers, then we DID IT (yeah, I felt it and yeah it hurt for a millisecond) and I closed my eyes when I heard the beep just praying for something good, and it was…. 85!

EIGHTY-FIVE!!! WHICH IS WHAT NORMAL PEOPLE GET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was like, woo hoo, under my breath. Because everyone else was getting 106, 127, 135, 178, etc etc and I was SO HAPPY and relieved because that means that my Metformin is working! I haven’t had a reading of less than 100 EVER.  So I was very, very happy. And the nurse went around collecting our numbers and I said ’85’ and she had to look at my meter to be sure I wasn’t making it up. Ya the hoo!!

Then I went home and had lunch. (whole wheat English muffin with cheddar cheese, in case you’re interested) I came to work. After about an hour, I tested again and it was…. 109!!!!!! Which is freaking fa-bu-los-a!!

Thank you Metformin. Thank you exercise. Thank you blood glucose meter for letting me know that I’m not at death’s door, or on the verge of losing my feet, after all.

I am officially in love with my blood glucose meter now. Because now I feel like I can check it anytime I have a question about ANYTHING, and I can just… see what happens. I’m going to learn stuff. I am actually very, very excited.

14

Trying to Laugh With a Frozen Face

Tonight I went to a solo performance show, featuring four performers who are showcasing their work after a solo performance class that I used to take. It’s great to go to these shows, to check out the new and amazing talent as well as to see old friends and “alums” from the class. It’s truly a fantastic community and one that I dearly love and appreciate.

The show tonight featured two old friends of mine and two “newbies” whom I knew nothing about. I was really anticipating the new stuff.  The third performer opened her act by coming out on stage and whispering, “Shhh……it’s 3 in the morning in a small town in the Midwest. There’s a 13 year old girl in there sleeping, or…?” She morphs into a mother, bending over her daughter’s bed, yelling somewhat hysterically, “HONEY! ARE YOU HAVING A REACTION?!?”

I froze for a moment. Reaction. Reaction. OMG. This was going to be a piece about… could it be? Diabetes. Oh god.

Yes indeedy. It was a piece about diabetes. The actor stepped to the front of the stage to narrate the goings-on. “Yes. I have had diabetes since I was eight years old. I have TYPE ONE diabetes, not to be confused with TYPE TWO diabetes, of which there is an EPIDEMIC these days, because people are running around eating too many Big Macs.”  And then she went on to tell her diabetes life story, getting lots of laughs along the way.

This is when I officially left my body, my back pressed as far back into the seat it would go, and I think I probably missed the next five minutes of the show. I felt attacked, embarrassed, mortified, defensive, shocked.

I’ve only been part of the “diabetes community” for, um… five days now? And in my surfing around on various forums and websites I’ve detected a distinct feeling of animosity and hostility from Diabetes type-1 people toward Diabetes type-2 people. The sentiment seems to be something like, people with type-1 Diabetes are innocent children who did nothing to deserve this terrible fate, while type-2 Diabetes people are obese, sendentary pigs who BROUGHT THIS ON THEMSELVES.

Look. I know that being overweight is a risk factor for developing diabetes. I was overweight for many years (and still am, to a lesser degree). But jeez.

There is so much ignorance and misinformation out there. So of course D1 people feel outraged and indignant when people who Don’t Know Any Better say things like, “you probably ate too many candy bars!” But then to take it out on other people who have diabetes?

Suddenly, I feel tired. And sad.

8

3 Day Limbo

Now I know I have diabetes. But I’m not really doing anything differently until I have my first diabetes education class on Tuesday. I know that I’m going to have to start Testing on that day. (they told me to bring my little blood-testing machine) I know I will survive all that, but sometimes I get overwhelmed with thoughts of having to prick myself and draw my blood X number of times per day, like… for the rest of my life? I’m experiencing these last three days of somewhat ignorant somewhat bliss, my fingertips intact for a little while longer. I have to admit I am feeling some grief over this. But in the midst of this, I’ve also had some incredibly happy times.

The Springsteen concert on Wednesday was awesome. And last night my friend E and I went to the newly-refurbished incredibly beautiful Fox Theater to see… The Moody Blues!!! To say that it was a TRIP is an understatement. I don’t even think I could describe it in a way that would give it justice.  Crazy psychedelic graphics, and hundreds of grey-haired hippies, pulsing flowers and floating clouds, and just… groovy, man. E and I had our mouths gaping in complete disbelief. Also shock that we KNEW 85% of the songs BY HEART even though we had not heard them in probably over 30 years. It was just… trippy.  And way more fun than I’d had in a long time. It felt good to laugh and dance and be goofy.

My Couch-to-5k training continues to go well. This morning I wanted to get in a run/walk before WW and my friend M wasn’t available so I went with my trusty iPod and ended up definitely running more than my 2nd-week workout dictates. I’ve discovered that my PERFECT jogging tempo is to Cat Stevens’ “Wild World.” (la la la la la la) I really felt like I could have kept going a long time. But I had to go to my meeting and…

I lost another pound. That was a good thing. One more to TWENTY! I don’t think I’ve ever lost 20 consecutive pounds before. (just the same ones, over and over) I’ve weighed less than I do now, but after starting out at a lower weight, so I never lost that much.

In spite of the weight loss, I have to say that WW really turned me off today. The leader was talking about food substitutions, you know, to deal with still be able to eat our “old favorites.” And she said her favorite, most awesome thing was a Diet Soda Cake. I was like… wha?????? She said it basically consists of taking a box of cake mix (ie box of chemicals) and switching out the egg and oil for… a can of diet soda!!  So it’s basically nothing but a chemical cake. I’m thinking, could ANYthing be more gross than that??

And it just kind of underscored my feeling about WW really just hawking prepared foods filled with crap. The idea made me wince: a box cake made with DIET SODA? Okay, I’ll stop ranting now. But ugh.

Yesterday I went to visit another friend who is one of the most fashion-savvy people I know. She is my personal “What Not To Wear” consultant. Anyway, she was purging her closets and gave me 2 bags of unbelievably COOL clothes! Including a very adorable Little Black Dress and a cute grey skirt. Now, I have not worn either a dress OR a skirt in probably 15 years, so to try these things on and not be repulsed beyond belief was a milestone that made me incredibly happy. And really nice jeans! And a plaid jacket with A BELT!! It’s probably been 15 years since I’ve worn a belt of any kind, other than a bathrobe one. 🙂

So, I’m carrying on. I’m hanging in there. Part of me is trying on the idea that maybe this diabetes thing could be some bizarre Gift-In-Disguise.  It’s not going to let me off the hook.  Which is what I really need.

6

Medicine by Dr. Bruce, and Re-Adjusting

Well, the Day of Wallowing is over. So now begins the week/month/year/lifetime of trying to figure this all out. I want to thank all of you lovely wonderful people who commented, emailed and DMed me yesterday after my distressing/distraught post. I can’t tell you HOW MUCH those comments buoyed me up. Truly. I am grateful, so grateful, to every single one of you. Your comments made me well up with warmth and a sense of being truly taken care of. So THANK  YOU.

Last night it helped immmmmmmmensely to have tickets to see Bruce Springsteen. At first I really didn’t even want to go, I just wanted to – you know – WALLOW – but it seemed stupid to pass up such an event, and I am so glad I didn’t. It was great medicine.  When he started out with “Badlands” –

it aint no sin to be glad you’re alive

it gave me a big lump in my throat. And then he’d yell periodically into the audience, “Is anybody aliiiiiiiiiiive out there?” and I had to jump up and down and yell affirmation to that. I’m still alive! Hell yeah!

I got up in the morning and did my 2nd session, 2nd week of Couch-to-5k with my buddy Mary. It was a lot better and easier than earlier in the week, which was great. So it felt good to start the day with some affirming exercise.

Then later in the day I got down to some of the business of dealing with this diabetes thing.

  • I signed up for a bunch of diabetes-related blogs, forums and Tweets.
  • I registered for Diabetes Education classes, which begin next Tuesday. They said to bring my glucometer (blood testing machine). I have to say, this put a twinge of fear/resistance/oh noooooo into my heart. I had a moment of the heaviness of FOREVER. But then I breathed it through. I really do think this is going to have to be one day at a time.
  • I got an appointment to see the opthamologist this afternoon. I had just read this sobering account of Mary Tyler Moore’s (type 1, not 2) diabetes, and how her vision is really starting to go. This made me so sad and scared, so I was glad they had an immediate appointment.
  • The good news: I don’t have any “vascular complications” in my eyes.
  • The bad news: (watch out, I’m about to rant) The eye doctor asked for my family medical history. I said I didn’t know, because I was adopted. She said, “You’re adopted?? Oh, that’s so cuuuuuute!”  I almost launched into an Arlo Guthrie yell (a la “Alice’s Restaurant”) “Kill! Kiiill! Kiiiiiiiiiiiilllllllllllll!” but I refrained.
  • Rant #2: as if it was’t bad enough being told that being adopted is “cute” it reminded me ONCE AGAIN of the absolute wrongness,  indignity and danger of not having access or knowledge of my family medical history. Now maybe I don’t have a genetic family history of diabetes. But maybe I do. And if I do, and I had, say, KNOWN about it, five years ago, maybe I could have diagnosed/dealt with this even earlier. Who knows. But it just SUCKS so much to have no idea about these things. It is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG in every way possible.
  • I filled my prescription for Glucophage/Metformin and took first dose at dinner tonight.

So, I did everything on my endocroinologist’s check-off list. I bought a book about diabetes.

I’m a little thrown off in terms of the diet thing right now. I think my primary concern is figuring out what to do to keep my blood sugars “under tight control” which is what the opthamologist said I must do if I do not want to go blind. (OK! OK! I will!!!) Hopefully what is good for the blood sugars will also be good for the weight and it will all sort of work itself out. But right now I don’t have it in my to count the points or calories. I’m just sort of hanging on.

6

D-Day

Diagnosis Day. Diabetes Day. Depressed, discouraged, disgrunted, disappointed day. That’s been today for me.

I know I had some inner inkling from the awfulness of the glucose test on Monday, but part of me was also feeling so confident and happy and proud of myself for losing weight and exercising and just DOING GOOD since my last visit to the endocrinologist in February.

She came right in to the room and said, “Well, I’m sorry to say it, but you definitely have diabetes.”

Clunk.

Umm, what happened to “pre-?” I think that was probably wishful thinking back then. But I did have a few months to get used to the idea and during that time I did get significantly healthier in terms of my weight, blood pressure, cholesterol etc.

I was so shocked (well, part of me was, and part of me was not). And disappointed. And like, “Noooooooooooo!!!!!!! After all of my hard work!!”  Isn’t it supposed to go, that you get rewarded for doing well? This is not the result I was wanting or expecting.

I sort of plaintively, hopefully asked, “Can I make it go away?” and she shook her head sadly and said, “I’m afraid not.”

But most probably I had it all along but it wasn’t until the finality of the glucose test that it was objectively defined.

In January my fasting blood glucose (BG) was 123. (official diagnosis = 125 or over) So that’s where I got the idea it was “pre-.”  In February I had it down to 110 and I was feeling pretty damn good. So now it’s April. My fasting BG was a spectacular 101 (yay!) but that’s where the good news ended. My “postprandial” BG was 272 after 1 hour post-glucose.  (normal is 90-150) It was only a little bit lower after 2 hours. Which explains exactly WHY I felt so deathly awful. It was for real.

I know that millions of people live happily (?) and healthily with diabetes. I know it’s a lot better than other diagnoses one could get. But still, I didn’t want this. I tried so hard to prevent it from happening.

I didn’t much like it when she tested my feet and gave me a prescription to go to an opthamologist and called it a “progressive disease.” I hate the sound of that.

I started crying in the doctor’s office, and then sat in the car and cried for an hour (see my tearful Twitters) and then drove around mournfully for the rest of the morning. I cancelled my visit with my friend because I was just too glum to be able to cheer someone ELSE up. Now I’m going to take a nap. I do feel like I will eventually recover from this, hopefully as early as tomorrow, but today I feel sad and shitty and like rolling up in a little ball and whimpering “It’s not fair.” Which it isn’t, but nothing really is.

I hereby proclaim today Official Day of Wallowing, and tomorrow I get up and carry on.

20

Sugar Coma

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.

7

Whoa: Slooooow Down, Nelly!!

I’m sitting in the hospital lab, on the 2nd hour of my glucose tolerance test. I’m very happy that I have a nice waiting room with free Wi-Fi in which to pass the time. The glucose drink was nasty but not as awful as I’d remembered. I survived it.

I thought I’d review some parts of the Beck Diet Solution book that I was raving about so much when I first started. I haven’t looked at it much lately, and thought it would be worthwhile.

One thing I have just not gotten really good at is eating slowly, which hinders my ability to guage my fullness etc. I just happened to open to the “Eat Slowly” chapter in the Beck book. Which is a good thing.

When the relatives were here for that nice dinner over the weekend, I noticed that my husband and I both finished our plates WAYYYY before his cousin and her husband. I kept staring at her, wondering, how does she do that? I just got used to absolutely snarfing down my food at some point (maybe when the kids were little??) and haven’t been able to break that habit. But here are the things that Beck suggests to help with this issue. I’m going to give it a shot.

  • Change something in your eating environment: cloth napkins instead of paper, a little vase of flowers, different colored plates, whatever. Every time you notice that changed thing, think to yourself, Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be eating more slowly.
  • Set a timer to beep every 1-3 minutes. Every time it beeps, put down your tableware and count to 10. When you pick the fork or spoon up again, remind self to eat slowly. (note: I can bet that one minute will seem as long as the 60 seconds I’m running during Couch to 5k!!)
  • Take a sip of water after every bite.
  • Eat something very hot, like soup. Which will force you to slow down.
  • Pay attention to bodily sensations. Notice sensations of fullness
  • Look at the clock. Notice what time it is when dinner begins and ends. Try and stretch that time out by a few minuets every meal.

I’ve noticed that we can usually polish off dinner in less than 10 minutes, usually an average of six. That’s probably really bad. We are Hoovers! I know I need to make a conscious effort to try all of these exercises because I know that the speed of my eating has really caused me to gain weight.

5

Beautiful Guiltfree Dinner

I soooo enjoyed my dinner last night.  We had company over – my husband’s cousin and her hubby – they are wonderful people, and I was really looking forward to hanging out with them. I decided to make our family favorite teriyaki/wasabi salmon, this asparagus and brown/wild rice salad someone pointed out to me on Twitter (I love Twitter! It’s like a recipe box at your fingertips!), a big mache salad with avocados and feta, and a lemon tart with real whipped cream. YAY. Oh, and they brought some amazing wine they’d procured during their weeklong trip through Napa.

I didn’t worry about the points or calories of any of these items. I had had a good run/walk in the morning. I had gone to Weight Watchers and had lost 2.6 lbs since last week. I knew that everything I was eating was super healthy (except maybe the lemon tart!).

I enjoyed every single bite of my dinner. I didn’t overeat, I didn’t obsess over “going over” (which, had I counted, I probably did) I know that today I’m doing another Couch to 5k AND I’m going to be rowing in a “parent row” for my daughter’s crew team. THAT should be interesting!! And I’m going to resume my regular good eating today. It’s all good.

Is it possible that I’ll gain weight from this one dinner, at the end of this week? Somehow I really don’t think so.

1

Off the Couch

OK, so due to semi-popular demand (thanks MizFit!) I am going to write about my extremely nascent running experience, specifically with Couch-to-5k, which I began… yesterday!

Earlier in the week, I did an actual 5k (walk/run combo) around the wonderful Lake Merritt. I have not circled Lake Merritt in wayyyy too long, despite its proximity to my house, and I wonder why I stayed away so long. (umm, maybe because I was on the couch) Anyway, it is a great training ground because its perimeter (I just looked it up: on the walking path, NOT the sidewalk) is exactly 5k, which is perfect.

Lake Merritt is called “the jewel of Oakland” and for good reason. It’s beautiful. It has a totally awesome bird sanctuary. It is incredibly diverse in terms of race, age, gender and socioeconomics. You see EVERYone going around the path on Lake Merritt. It made me feel so happy to be there. There were couples, and girlfriends, and tottering little old people, and babies and dogs (even though they are really not allowed) and super fit young athletes, and lots of people huffing and puffing, and just EVERYone. I went around sundown and got to see the pretty “circle of lights” light up, along with the gorgeous historical streetlamps. So it was great to be there.  I took my iPod and it took me exactly 41 minutes to go around the lake, I’d say probably 40-50% running. Not bad.

So I thought I was in FINE shape to do this Couch to 5k training, and even contemplated (HA HA HA HA!) skipping ahead to week 2 or 3 because I was feeling so ridiculously overconfident. I posted a notice on Facebook and a bunch of friends said they wanted to do it with me! (now THAT is one of the absolute COOLEST and best things about FB!)

My friend M happens to do some work in the same office as me. We met up in the office yesterday and at first we were going to go to the Lake, but realized we both were squeezed timewise b/c we had to pick up our kids at a certain time. So instead we went to one of Oakland’s OTHER jewels, ie. Mountain View Cemetery. This is where my trainer often takes me and runs me up and down the steps and ramps. It’s a beautiful and intense outdoor gym!

The first 3 sessions of Couch-to-5k consists of this: warmup walk for 5 minutes, then 60 second run, 90 second walk, 60 second run, 90 second walk. Keep going for 20 minutes.

Now. I scoffed at this workout. I was like, that is too easy! HA HA HA HA. I did come to eat those words. I was nervous. We walked from the office to the cemetery, which was more than five minutes. When we got into the gates, M set her very cool sports watch (she is a very accomplished gadget geek, which is one of the things which makes her an excellent running partner!) so that it would beep at 60 seconds, 90, 60, etc.

She said, “Go!” We set off on our first sixty. Can I just say that these were some of the LONGEST sixty seconds EVER? (dwarfed only perhaps by sixty seconds of being in active labor) I was rather stunned when it was over and I was so happy to be walking. For some reason, the 90 seconds went by quicker than the 60 – how is that? 🙂

I think we did 8 or 9 circuits of each, which was definitely more than 20 minutes, because we were late leaving and I was late picking up my kid and she TOTALLY let me have it. And I was beet red and sweaty. It had kicked my butt – the easy one! Ack!!

We do our 2nd set of this tomorrow, down at the Lake. My friend C is doing it “in tandem” on her treadmill. And I am meeting my other friend K on Sunday in San Francisco, since she was so eager to join in as well. I am happy to have all this company. But I am still chagrined that the first set of this workout was not as easy as I had imagined it would be.

Only one way to go from here, right? Onward!

12

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