How did I miss this?

I sat in my doctor's office today and he asked me how I had been feeling the last few weeks since starting my diabetes medication.

I found myself gushing.  Literally gushing!  The words tumbled out of my mouth like a torrent.  I was feeling so good! not so exhausted all the time! more energy! not as ravenous! feeling like I was eating more even though the calories were way less than before! I almost felt like I was cheating!

His face flushed with pleasure. He was beaming.  (Note to self: this guy really CARES about me - he loves what he does and loves to see people healthy!) 

I was nearly breathless with telling him about all the positive changes.  And he asked me about my numbers.  I showed him my sugar log and noted the variations in my levels, better during the day and more in the morning than they should be. So we both agreed that he needed to up my dose of one of the medications - and he wrote the script for that.  We agreed to meet again in a couple of weeks. 

I couldn't contain myself anymore.  I caught his eye and said to him, incredulous, "How did I MISS this?"  I had always thought that eating healthy was so hard, so much work.  Yet here I was eating completely balanced meals and feeling so wonderful ... was this what normal people felt like? not getting hungry until almost mealtime? slowing down and enjoying the taste of food? 

He validated my good report and told me that it doesn't take long when adopting a healthy lifestyle to start noticing a difference.  Boy was HE right! 

Talking about it with my husband later, I started to shake my head with disbelief. Again. "I can't believe how good I feel!" I said to him.  

He grinned, and then looked pensive. "I'm so thankful.  He probably saved your life," he said. "If he hadn't made you take those blood tests, you'd still be tired and on your way to ..." his voice trailed off and his eyes misted a bit.  

"... a heart attack," I finished his sentence.

"Yeah." 

"I know.  We have a lot to be grateful for." 

"We do." 

I know that there are some people who have been trying all my adult life to guilt me into making healthier choices; guilt trips are red flags for me and I resist them. But it was the caring and concern of this stranger who sat me down and informed me of the facts ... with no "shoulds" ever coming out of his mouth ... and let me make up my own mind, who really had a big influence on my decision to live.  I chose to live. I chose to stick around. And that, my friends, is the truth.

How did I miss this?  I was ignorant.  I didn't know what was wrong - and in my arrogance, I thought that it was stress or normal reactions from being bullied or burning the candle at both ends. It turns out I was partly right; prolonged intense stress is a risk factor in the development of diabetes.  But mostly, I was caught in a web of fear ... fear of going to a doctor I didn't trust (my former physician), fear of what he might say and how he might say it, fear of how others might jump on the "jump on Judy" bandwagon, fear of something actually being wrong (and not fixable), fear of leaving the familiar and launching out into new territory, and fear that I wouldn't be able to make the changes that I would need to make. 

Photo "Young Plant" by amenic181 at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

It turns out that I had all that fear for nothing.  It turns out that diabetes - as life-limiting as the diagnosis sounds - freed me to have the lifestyle I enjoy now. I can't explain it any better than that.  Whether I lose weight or not, matters not. That I feel better for putting the right fuel into my body does matter. It not only makes my body feel better, it makes my soul and spirit feel better as well, because I am looking after myself and making time for me - even if it is only a small portion out of my day to pack a lunch for myself to take to work instead of buying my lunch from the vending machine in the basement at my work. And it only takes a couple of minutes a few times a day to write down what I eat. And maybe I feel good enough to go for a stroll once in a while. 

I'm so grateful. 

And don't worry, I won't be turning my blog into a fitness diary.  I've seen too many people get turned onto this or that "healthy" practice and become people I didn't like as much anymore. But I did want to say that here is one little gray duck that is so glad someone with patience, wisdom and respect took the time to give me the facts and let me decide what to do with them. He made sure that I didn't "miss it." And that my family wouldn't miss me.

The Road to Self-care

So okay, NOW I can talk about this on my blog. I had to make sure that everyone in my household was in the know and aware. And not overreacting. Because it's no super big deal.

So here goes: I am in the process of getting diagnosed with type 2 Diabetes (late onset, or what the old-timers used to call "shugar dye-a-BEET-us") I've been monitoring my blood sugars ever since this morning, so I can show my log book to the doctor on Thursday. He'll have the results of my second A1C (blood glucose, fasting) test, which he needs to confirm the diagnosis. He and I both expect it to be around the same as the last one, so yes, unofficially it's diabetes mellitus (the medical term.)

Then we'll talk about treatment (probably pills) and he'll probably refer me to a nutritionist. I've already made adjustments in timing, portion control and content of my meals and snacks. (Been doing a LOT of reading at the Canadian Diabetes Association site and at the Mayo Clinic site).

People are going to ask me if I'm okay - that's natural. The truth is, I haven't been okay.  The last 8 months has been simply awful: no energy, lots of fatigue, thirsty all the time, and ravenously hungry ... really irritable before meals and falling asleep while studying - and elsewhere. I just thought it was stress. Well, it WAS stress in a way, because prolonged, intense stress can raise blood sugar - but there are also other contributing factors, of which I have three: a family history (my dad's mother), a personal history of gestational diabetes, and morbid obesity. I get it that people will be worried about me and wonder what this means for my health.

 

Photo "Bowl Of Muesli For Breakfast With Fruits"
courtesy of Serge Bertasius at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

 

But for the most part, for me, the diagnosis of diabetes comes as a huge relief.  Finally, there's an explanation for how I've been feeling. Finally, I know what to do about it AND I am motivated to do so.  And best of all, my entire nuclear family is on board with getting more active and eating better (in fact, they are looking forward to it!) - talk about moral support! 

 

Having diabetes forces me to look after myself, not to skip meals, not to snack on empty calories, and not to sit in my chair and think of excuses why I should stay there.  Wow.  Not to lose weight (although if that happens - bonus!) but to keep my sugars under control so that I don't end up with heart disease and kidney problems.  

 

I even heard my husband say to me last week (echoing my own secret thoughts), "You know, honey, maybe this is a blessing in disguise."  It surprises me to say that I think he is right!  I can say that I have been scouring diabetes websites, looking at food lists, poring over supermarket flyers, thinking about meal planning, and getting my head around being more active and just making that part of my every-day routine.  

 

I have spent the last seven years trying to take care of my emotional self, and I have been growing in that respect more and more; now, it is time to take care of my physical self. I'm on the road again. Hopefully the skies will be sunny and the breeze warm.

Miracles in the midst of want

I mentioned in my last entry that not all Christians judged us for our financial failure.

Some of them loved us through it, supported us with prayer and with kind words.

Still others went the extra mile and were willing to be God's provision for us as and whenever He led them to do that. It always turned out to be the perfect timing.

One day, about half-way through that nine months, I noticed that less and less of my clothes were fitting me. That was because we could only afford starches and high-fat meats. "Lord," I prayed. "I only have a couple of outfits left. I need some clothes, but I can't afford to go buy any, not even at the second-hand stores." Within two days, one person (I still don't know who) left a garbage bag on our back step filled with clothes... nice ones. Most of them fit me, and what didn't fit me, fit my oldest girl so she could hand down some of her clothes to her younger sister.

We didn't talk much about our problems, but there were those whose lives were affected directly, people we had to tell. Among those were members of our extended family. We got varying reactions from them, everything from hand-wringing worry from those who knew what it was to be in want, to something similar to "Let them eat cake" from those who had no clue what financial distress even looked like.

It just about drove my mother-in-law crazy that she couldn't write us a check for a hundred dollars and make everything okay for us. She even wanted to open a bank account for us. We told her that any extra money that anyone gave us would be confiscated by the bankruptcy trustee to pay the creditors with. She wanted US to benefit, not the people we owed. So every week, she would send her husband over to our house to drop off about three grocery bags of meat. Chicken legs or thighs, pork chops, lean hamburger, whole chickens. Sometimes even the occasional package of steak. She didn't get much in the run of a month; she called it "mad money." That she would spend her own money on us - just blew me away.

We never went without. There were times, the day before my husband's payday, that we had to rummage through the couch cushions for change. He'd go down the street with his head down - he was looking for coins people dropped. But with the generosity of some of God's saints, and His miraculous provision, our family never went hungry.

The first God-miracle we noticed though, came when the trustee sent an appraiser to look at our house, to see if it could be sold to pay the creditors. He made his assessment, looked at our mortgage, which we'd added to about five years previous in order to finish the basement, and told us that if the house were sold, there wouldn't be enough equity left over to pay the realty fees AND have enough to pay some to the creditors. So we got to keep the house.

A particularly trying time came when the tax department, who had been auditing my husband's taxes, decided to press charges for tax evasion. They knew full well that he couldn't fight the tax department in his situation of bankruptcy. He had made some errors in judgment about two years previous, based on lack of information about tax changes, and they decided he would be a great object lesson to anyone who wanted to have a home business and do their own taxes. Anyway, we had no extra money for a lawyer. The court date came, and the judge called his name. He stood up and the judge said, "Where is your lawyer?" He said he didn't have any. "Get one, and be back here in two weeks."

We found a lawyer willing to take our case but he charged a fee of $600. It was an enormous sum of money for a cash-only budget. It certainly wasn't an approved expense. However, my husband went to the trustee and told him the situation. Finally, after much pleading and arm-twisting, the trustee said, "Well, there's the third pay period this month. Out of that, you pay the mortgage and the lawyer. We get the rest." What about groceries, my husband asked. "No. The mortgage, and the lawyer. Nothing else."

When I heard this news, I was overcome with worry. No grocery money for two whole weeks?? How would we survive? How could anyone survive?

I needed help - some message from God to know what to do.

God was punching down the clay. Jeremiah 17 says that the clay was marred in the hand of the potter, so He made it again another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to make it. That's what was happening.

In desperation I opened the Scriptures. "Please tell me what to do, Lord. We are so in need of Your guidance." Somehow I remembered the story of the widow who was financially destitute. Her children were going to be sold into slavery to pay her debts. And she went to the prophet to ask him what to do. Of course this is the story of the widow's cruse of oil that didn't run out until she had enough oil to sell to pay her debts. But there was a part of the story that had escaped me... until it jumped off the pages of the Bible at me. When she explained her predicament, the prophet said, "What do you have in the house?"

I stopped. What did I have in the house? Well, now. I didn't know exactly.
"Find out," said a little voice in my head. Or was it my heart?

I decided to do an inventory. I went through the fridge and the cupboards, and put together a menu plan for 14 days' worth of breakfast, lunch, supper, and snacks. It amazed me that the little bit of food in the house would last that long. We actually had enough food. I discovered that if handled right, one pound of hamburger could stretch for three meals for two adults and two children. The only thing we had to buy in that 2 weeks was one container of milk. The loose change paid for that.

God had provided; there was no other explanation for it!!

The court did impose a fine, by the way, near the end of our bankruptcy period. It was substantial - and the bankruptcy laws didn't allow for that debt to be erased since it was imposed by the court system. In a way it felt as though we'd gotten out of one mess and into another.

But God wasn't finished with His miracles yet.