So this isn’t easy for me to say publicly. It isn’t a life-shattering thing in any way, but admitting it makes it true.
I’m diabetic and have been for years. Gestational diabetes with Middlest, and it simply never went away. That was almost eight years ago.
Not only am I diabetic, but I’m wildly uncontrolled.
This is because I like baking too much. I’m too busy looking after the children. The medicine makes me sick. I forget to take the shots. What have you.
I don’t want to admit I’m ill. I don’t want to admit that I have this chronic sickness that makes me dizzy, that makes me forget things.
Today I felt awful. Tired and irritated and jumping out of my skin. My entire body ached. I was exhausted. I couldn’t concentrate, and I was cranky.
I went to my room for a bit, hoping that I could get away from the pain and irritation. I just wanted to be left alone. But then I thought, “You know what? I bet my sugars are high. Let’s check.” This was a huge step for me.
I don’t check my sugars for a reason. They’re always high, and also hello denial! I don’t want to have a chronic illness. I don’t want to be broken.
But I also can’t continue to live like this. Suck it up, Buttercup! Face reality. Grab the bull by the horns. GET BETTER.
My glucose level was 354. Which is frightening. I discussed this with a dear friend last night and he said that’s how high his glucose was when he had a heart attack. I said, “This scares me.” He said, “Perhaps I said it to scare you.”
That’s what true friends do, so you know. They scare you when you need it.
My daughter painted my nails. Aren’t they lovely?
I do have an insulin pen that I seldom use. I have medication. I know I need to eat regularly. That’s my biggest problem. I just kind of forget until it’s nearly too late.
Anyway, here we go! I said it publicly. I’m a diabetic and I hate it with everything I have. I hate the vulnerability of it. I hate the changes that are taking place. I’m giving up the Coke Zero, which is insanely hard for me. We’re tossing out my emotional crutches. I cried today as I poured my sugar out into the trash, but my husband and I have committed to a real food, diabetic-friendly program that will, hopefully, stop me from poisoning myself and calling it “comfort and caring.”
I’m already going through withdrawals, although I’m tapering the Coke down instead of going cold turkey. But it’s more than that. It’s knowing that I can’t just bake a cake when I’m stressed. It’s figuring out that I need to take care of myself, when that’s such a hard thing to do. Quite honestly, I don’t know how. I haven’t the slightest idea. This is shaking my foundation a bit.
Hi, I’m Mercedes, and I’m realizing I’m very sick.
There. Vulnerable, and now accountable.
Wish me luck, my darling friends.
Thanks for your help, my friends. :)