Shift happens

Good morning!  It's now 8 a.m. Sunday morning.  Yesterday at this time it was 7 a.m.  Doesn't take much to change things substantially.  We'll all really get this annual reminder when it's broad daylight at 7 tonight!  Sorry for the continuation of my morning musings on time change, but as noted in my last post, it fascinates me...the notion of times changing are very relevant in my life now.

And so back to our story from Saturday...the unintended cliffhanger that happened because the day started moving before I had a chance to finish the saga.  Actually this saga will be unfolding over time for the long haul, but on to the next chapter for now...

The blood was drawn Wednesday.  Thursday around 1:15 I was at work, blithely eating my lunch when my cell phone rang, and the number that appeared was that of my doctor's office.  In keeping with my oft-reported neurotic nature, wisps of adrenalin puffed into my solar plexus.  It was the office receptionist who said that my results were in and the doctor wanted me to come in to discuss them.

Knowing full well she couldn't say much, I said I'd make the appointment, but asked she fax me a copy of them.  She replied that the doc didn't like doing that until the results were discussed with the patient.  So I asked to talk to someone.  She put me on hold.

After about a minute, she came back and said that the Nurse Practitioner, who I see as often as the doc,   fully trust and believe to be extremely competent, said to tell me it was to discuss diabetes management and treatment options.  Aha.  Just as I expected.  I scheduled the appointment for this coming Tuesday, hung up, and exhaled deeply.

It was almost a sense of relief to me that this issue was "out in the open", and I knew that a subtle shift had happened inside where I was no longer going to ignore this truth that's been present for close to 4 years.  No more hiding it, no more euphemistic descriptions of my "borderline" status.  I have it.  It's gotten worse over the years.  Turns out ignoring a problem is not a useful strategy.  Magical thinking doesn't exact change.  Not like setting a clock to a different time and calling it a day.

Having not had the doc appointment yet, I haven't found out the particular numbers of my fasting blood sugar and HbA1C, which are the initial 2 indicators of diabetic status.  I haven't been instructed to check my fasting blood sugar daily, or been given diet guidelines.  I haven't been told that I need to go on medication.  Yet.

Shortly after I hung up from talking to the receptionist, I got my work glucometer out and checked my blood sugar.  It was a dumb time to check it, because I'd just eaten lunch (albeit a healthy low carb one) and knew the number would be high.  But how high?  My nursing knowledge is helpful, but it can also be a distinct hurdle in rational action on my own behalf.  I know normal ranges for fasting, but not related to mealtimes, etc.  I thought it could be in the 200s, which would not be good.  It was 167, which is high, but not so bad just after a meal.  2 hours later would have told a different story, but I let it go, just feeling good that I'd had the nerve to check it.

I brought the meter home for the weekend.  Friday night, hubby brought home dinner from his golf club (where we have to spend a certain amount in their dining room quarterly), and from where we usually get outrageously delicious dessert.  I told him in no uncertain terms NOT to get me a dessert, but when he got home, one of the containers had 2 desserts.  I shrieked at him, and he said he'd told them just the one dessert.  He was surprised, and I can assure all of you that he would not attempt to sabotage me.  It was a fluke.  Guess what I did?  I ate it.  And once that sugar was on board, I opened a bag of candy that I was going to send to my son in the Republic of Georgia, and ate that too.  Insane.

Armed with my glucometer, I checked my fasting blood sugar yesterday morning.  Normal value would be less than 100.  Mine was 152.  It was that value and my reaction to it that prompted me to begin writing all this yesterday morning.  I saw it and didn't freak out.  What came was a steely determination and resolve to change it.  Get it down.  It was visceral, real.  That high blood sugar empowered me through the day yesterday, including a baby shower with a full dinner, cake, bread...to avoid the simple carbs and sugar.  Also to take in healthy nourishing meals.

This morning my blood sugar was 132.  Still high.  Down 20 points.  Coinkydink?  I think not.  Can I get it lower?  I believe I can.

The awareness is still fresh, almost astonishing as it continues to wash over me.  The facts of my condition, out in the open, motivate me.  Reality vs. wishing and hoping.  A measurable indicator of my  status can help me rather than scare me.  There are many things I cannot control.  But I am not powerless over what I put in my mouth.  Once certain things enter my body (like booze, sugar, highly processed crap), my judgement is impaired.  The person I am before I put in certain substances is different from the one after I ingest them.  That is my biochemical addictive nature.  If I ignore it, all bets are off as to my ability to act on my own behalf.

So - that's where I am at this point.  I am going to test my FastingBloodSugar (FBS) every day now, whether the doc says to or not.  But he will.  I'm not afraid of it anymore.  I'm afraid NOT to do it.  That's a big change.