the MD speaks...

I am now a diabetic (type 2).

This is the day that I was forced to realize that I am a diabetic and will have to accept that. I've suspected that I was close to being diabetic or actually a diabetic for about 3 years now; I was simply in denial. But, the Fasting Blood Sugar test of 195 (after fasting for roughly 13 hours) was pretty damningly convincing; I am now a diabetic and will have to deal with this.

I will be on a pill (metforman), two pills a day. I'll have to test my blood sugar twice a day, two days a week. Dr. H. says he'll write a script for a finger testing machine; I would rather have urine strips or that sample-from-the-arm that is being advertised on TV. Either way, I am not looking forward to having to endure this. Oh, taking the pills (not a needle, Thank God!)
will just mean adding another pill to my morning regime of lisinopril (10mg) and the buffered aspirin (81mg). That simply means that I have to keep track of when the pills will run out and make sure that I keep supplied. (Maybe I can get the VA to start supplying me at a cheaper rate than the hospital rate of $18 per month?)

I wonder if this will keep me from donating blood?

It is the stabbing my finger that has me getting stressed...

Kathie and I talked about this briefly. The Doc called her, she had him call me and called me after Dr. H. talked with me. I don't want to stress my mother with this or my brother Charlie either. (Part of what killed my father was dibetics and my brother Charlie has been in and out of hosipials for years and recently lost his right leg in mid thigh.) I'm not sure how my
brother Jim would react (probably unemotionally) and I really don't know how Jeff would react. (Would he even care? I'm too estranged from him to think it would care. Would he just get snippy and snide about me not losing 100 pounds years ago? That is the snitty response and probably the "real life" response.)

I'll have to start checking my feet and will probably get overly concerned about them.

I'll be worrying that if I don't lose weight, I will end up having to "move up to" the needle and I'm not sure that I'll ever be able to face that...

After my MD called, I told Fritz and several other people in the office (Jen, Rick and one or two others) about this. They were sympathetic and that helped. I didn't tell my immediate supervisor as he was gone for the day or the office manager as he was in his office. By the time the "big boss" had left his office, I was not in the mood to talk about this. I'm not in denial anymore but just didn't want to discuss it...

There is a great Calvin and Hobb cartoon where in:

Miss Wormwood: "Calvin, do you know what state you live in?"Stern expression on her face.

Calvin, eyes rolling: "Denial."

Miss Wormwood, muttering: "I can't argue with that."
Walked off, shaking her head.