Now I HAVE to ride
The paper I work for interviewed me last week for a story about Bike To Work Day. I knew there was going to be a photo, but I didn't know it was going to be on the front page, and I didn't know it was going to be huge! Urgh. My hermitary sensibilities are deeply offended, my cover is totally blown, and I can never again drive to work without everyone in town knowing that contrary to the claims of this august publication, I do not actually ride to work every day, rain or shine.
Although for about the last month, I pretty much have been. One night a week I meet with a client on the opposite side of the valley, in a rural area where it isn't really safe to ride at night, so on those days I drive. Otherwise, I'm riding pretty much everywhere again. It's been good, mostly. I'm also walking every day, either with dogs or on the treadmill. It's exactly one mile to the end of our road and back, and I can walk it in about 15 minutes, which makes it a nice little excursion first thing in the morning or after dinner, or both.
So yeah. Pounds are coming off. I have mixed feelings about it. When people tell me how good I look, my first thought is still defensive. I always think what they really want to say is something along the lines of, "Thank god you're finally slimming down! I never would have said anything before, but now that you've come to your senses I can tell you that I've never seen such a big fat cow as you were, in all my life." Et cetera.
Also, my carefully cultivated stash of summer uniforms no longer fits, so I'm down to wearing the same pair of pants every day until I have time to get to the thrift store for some transitional clothes. My favorite skirt, which I've had for only two months, is now too big. Shirts that used to be comfortably loose now look like those three-armed drapey things they make you wear when you go in for a mammogram. I keep wanting to replace my entire wardrobe Right This Minute, but I really don't know how much weight I'm going to end up losing, or what size I will be when I'm done. Maybe some people might find this fun and exciting – all new clothes! – but for someone who hates to shop, and has gone to great lengths to craft a life that does NOT require agonizing over decisions about such minutiae as what to wear every day ... It's kind of stressful.
On the positive side, I'm no longer as hungry as I was in the beginning, my blood sugar is still coming down, and even I have to admit I look better than I did a month ago. So far I've lost about fifteen pounds. I can tell the difference, and it's been pretty easy to do; so now I'm thinking maybe my original goal of 40 was not strict enough. Maybe I should go for 50? Or even 60? 100? 200? According to the BMI charts, to be of "normal" weight a person of my height (5'4") should weigh between about 105 and 145. Am I really supposed to be trying to get down to the low end of that scale? I haven't weighed 105 since high school!
Well, one thing at a time. I guess for me right now the more interesting number is the one on my glucometer. Watching that number come down has been heartening, and also alarming, as I found out this week that hormonal changes (like when you get your period!) tend to cause blood sugar to rise by as much as 10-20 points on average, for a "period" (hmm!) of several days. Not to mention all the water retention and bloating. Unfortunately, these supposedly temporary increases in my hard-won losses exactly coincide with my first follow-up appointment with my doctor, at which I had hoped to wow him with my lightning-fast triumph over excess weight and high blood sugar and inspire him to declare, in tones of reverence and awe, "Gee, I guess maybe you're really not diabetic, after all!"
It's been interesting to notice how much I really, really want my doctor to approve of me through all this. I've said before that while other girls got attention and rewards for being pretty and popular, the rewards I got were usually for being creative and smart. I always did well on tests – loved taking them – and if for some reason I didn't do as well as I wanted to, I would go home determined to work harder and ace it the next time, which I was always able to do.
Somehow when I "failed" the blood glucose screening test, I felt angry, challenged, and personally insulted. My doctor telling me I was diabetic felt like a mean, strict teacher telling me not only that I'd earned an F on a test when I'd been expecting to get an A, but that I'd probably never be able to get an A again.
So now I want to go to this appointment tomorrow and impress him with how hard I've worked and how much progress I've made in a very short time. But I suspect that's not what's going to happen. He isn't the warm and fuzzy or congratulatory type, for one thing. And diabetes isn't something you can "conquer" once and be done with it – it's chronic. It's for the long haul. It's forever. Also, I suspect he feels some contempt for me because I'm fat (I'm still fat, by the way – not as fat as I was a month ago, but still).
I think what's really going to happen is that his nurse will weigh me and test my blood glucose, and then he'll come in and look at my chart and say, "Hmm, you've lost some weight, your numbers are down, that's good. Let's increase your medication to twice a day, and I'll see you again in July."
He might not even look at the charts I've prepared to make it easy for him to see what I've been doing – clearly labeled and color coded and cross referenced and everything. It's going to drive me insane if he doesn't congratulate me on my charts.
ANYway. I'm actually hoping he doesn't want to increase the meds, even though I know that's standard treatment, because I finally figured out that it's the meds that have been causing all the agony in my intestines, and they have only just barely, after almost an entire month, started settling back to normal and stopped killing me every single moment of the day and night. But I guess if that's what it takes to get my numbers down, I will live with it.
Sigh. And I promised this wasn't going to turn into "my diabetes journey."
Although for about the last month, I pretty much have been. One night a week I meet with a client on the opposite side of the valley, in a rural area where it isn't really safe to ride at night, so on those days I drive. Otherwise, I'm riding pretty much everywhere again. It's been good, mostly. I'm also walking every day, either with dogs or on the treadmill. It's exactly one mile to the end of our road and back, and I can walk it in about 15 minutes, which makes it a nice little excursion first thing in the morning or after dinner, or both.
So yeah. Pounds are coming off. I have mixed feelings about it. When people tell me how good I look, my first thought is still defensive. I always think what they really want to say is something along the lines of, "Thank god you're finally slimming down! I never would have said anything before, but now that you've come to your senses I can tell you that I've never seen such a big fat cow as you were, in all my life." Et cetera.
Also, my carefully cultivated stash of summer uniforms no longer fits, so I'm down to wearing the same pair of pants every day until I have time to get to the thrift store for some transitional clothes. My favorite skirt, which I've had for only two months, is now too big. Shirts that used to be comfortably loose now look like those three-armed drapey things they make you wear when you go in for a mammogram. I keep wanting to replace my entire wardrobe Right This Minute, but I really don't know how much weight I'm going to end up losing, or what size I will be when I'm done. Maybe some people might find this fun and exciting – all new clothes! – but for someone who hates to shop, and has gone to great lengths to craft a life that does NOT require agonizing over decisions about such minutiae as what to wear every day ... It's kind of stressful.
On the positive side, I'm no longer as hungry as I was in the beginning, my blood sugar is still coming down, and even I have to admit I look better than I did a month ago. So far I've lost about fifteen pounds. I can tell the difference, and it's been pretty easy to do; so now I'm thinking maybe my original goal of 40 was not strict enough. Maybe I should go for 50? Or even 60? 100? 200? According to the BMI charts, to be of "normal" weight a person of my height (5'4") should weigh between about 105 and 145. Am I really supposed to be trying to get down to the low end of that scale? I haven't weighed 105 since high school!
Well, one thing at a time. I guess for me right now the more interesting number is the one on my glucometer. Watching that number come down has been heartening, and also alarming, as I found out this week that hormonal changes (like when you get your period!) tend to cause blood sugar to rise by as much as 10-20 points on average, for a "period" (hmm!) of several days. Not to mention all the water retention and bloating. Unfortunately, these supposedly temporary increases in my hard-won losses exactly coincide with my first follow-up appointment with my doctor, at which I had hoped to wow him with my lightning-fast triumph over excess weight and high blood sugar and inspire him to declare, in tones of reverence and awe, "Gee, I guess maybe you're really not diabetic, after all!"
It's been interesting to notice how much I really, really want my doctor to approve of me through all this. I've said before that while other girls got attention and rewards for being pretty and popular, the rewards I got were usually for being creative and smart. I always did well on tests – loved taking them – and if for some reason I didn't do as well as I wanted to, I would go home determined to work harder and ace it the next time, which I was always able to do.
Somehow when I "failed" the blood glucose screening test, I felt angry, challenged, and personally insulted. My doctor telling me I was diabetic felt like a mean, strict teacher telling me not only that I'd earned an F on a test when I'd been expecting to get an A, but that I'd probably never be able to get an A again.
So now I want to go to this appointment tomorrow and impress him with how hard I've worked and how much progress I've made in a very short time. But I suspect that's not what's going to happen. He isn't the warm and fuzzy or congratulatory type, for one thing. And diabetes isn't something you can "conquer" once and be done with it – it's chronic. It's for the long haul. It's forever. Also, I suspect he feels some contempt for me because I'm fat (I'm still fat, by the way – not as fat as I was a month ago, but still).
I think what's really going to happen is that his nurse will weigh me and test my blood glucose, and then he'll come in and look at my chart and say, "Hmm, you've lost some weight, your numbers are down, that's good. Let's increase your medication to twice a day, and I'll see you again in July."
He might not even look at the charts I've prepared to make it easy for him to see what I've been doing – clearly labeled and color coded and cross referenced and everything. It's going to drive me insane if he doesn't congratulate me on my charts.
ANYway. I'm actually hoping he doesn't want to increase the meds, even though I know that's standard treatment, because I finally figured out that it's the meds that have been causing all the agony in my intestines, and they have only just barely, after almost an entire month, started settling back to normal and stopped killing me every single moment of the day and night. But I guess if that's what it takes to get my numbers down, I will live with it.
Sigh. And I promised this wasn't going to turn into "my diabetes journey."
Labels: diabetes
2 Comments:
Congrats on your impressive progress. I can't wait to see the new uniform you come up with when you get around to buying some new clothes. I'm sure it will be fabulous.
I thought you were telling that doctor to go to hell and finding someone new?? I'd love to see the color coded and cross referenced charts. Such a "family" thing to do... lol.
Yeah--what Brad said about that prick of a doctor! Get rid of him. (OK. Probably easier said than done with all the bureaucratic ins and outs of the health insurance system these days. But still.)
You are being so disciplined and positive about all this! Congrats.
Also, I'm 5' 4," too and weighed between 100 and 105 lb in high school. For me that was borderline anorexic even back then. Right now I weigh, probably, 128. I'd like to weigh about 120, but really no less cuz at my age, my face starts looking thin and haggard (read: old and unhealthy looking). Sigh. OK. This is turning out to be more about me than you, so I'd better stop. I guess I'm just trying to say not to go overboard w. the weight loss once you achieve the results you want w. your blood sugar.
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