I have been to the doctor about 10 times since Christmas because of a cold, then a virus, then a sinus infection. In a nutshell, I am miserable.
However, I didn't know exactly HOW miserable I was going to get. The doctor blindsided me today. It went something like this:
"um...Lara....we ran some blood tests because you've been unable to shake this infection you have."
I nod. I know it -- it's doctor speak. I'm fine. But here comes the question that sends the hairs on the back of my neck to a 90 degree angle.
"Do you have a history of diabetes in your family?"
I stared for about 10 seconds, then hung my head ala Thomas Magnum. Resigned. Aware. Cooked. Busted. Cornered.
"Yes...."
"Well, your fasting glucose is....blah, blah, blah and your A1c marker is blah, blah, blah. Your markers have been going slowly but steadily upwards...and you are now considered diabetic."
Yup. Ambushed.
Now I know enough to know that this isn't a death sentence. It could have been much worse. It was found early and hopefully I can be controlled with diet and more exercise. But this news comes on the heels of a special anniversary this year: 10 years since I had a heart attack. 2/14/1998 -- Valentine's Day -- My heart gave out. But I survived and I'm here and FINALLY, when I'm just beginning to get the thumbs up from life insurance agents, I get kicked out of the ballpark again.
Man, I hate it when that happens.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Oh No, That's Gonna Hurt...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I guess you could consider it a wake up call. It can be controlled at this point, so that is good.
I'm soo sorry ((((((hugs)))))
You are stong, you are inspiring, you will make the changes needed to stay healthy!
Love and hugs!!!
Post a Comment