I haven't given much thought to being diabetic. I mean, I haven't obsessed over it. I sort of just let it go, aside from doing whatever the doctors and my diabetes coach, Nurse Harriet, told me to do. Mostly that involved diet, exercise and medicines. I watched my A1C steadily drop ever since I was first diagnosed with diabetes, a year and a half ago.
I was vaguely aware that there are "dire consequences" to being diabetic. Heck, it ran on my mother's side of the family and I had a great aunt who wound up having a leg or two hacked off. But that was in the early 70's, I told myself, no need to worry about that sort of thing now. Besides, I thought, I have great medical care, something no one in my family ever had.
So I just did the right things and let the chips fall where they may.
Until I picked up today's New York Times. For reasons I don't understand the NYTimes has decided to do "in-depth studies" of the six major killer diseases in the US these days and they started the series, today, with diabetes.
Oh, lucky me.
I found out about "burnout" whereby a diabetes patient just gets sick and tired of all the crap they have to do in order to stay healthy as the months and years go by. I can see myself burning out on puncturing my fingers in oh, say, five or ten years. I can see getting tired of a diet of leaves and gravel. I can see being (well, I already am) burned out on trying to shed pounds. They took me off the drugs that are supposed to be the worst offenders for putting weight on diabetics and I spend a couple of hours a week on a treadmill. Still, I can't lose an ounce.
Then, to make matters worse, now that I've finished Harry Potter I've started reading "Michael Tolliver Lives" which is Armistead Maupin's new book about the denizens of 28 Barbary Lane, 30 years later. We don't get 40 pages into the book before the protagonist, Michael aka "Mouse", manages to acquire a trophy boytoy husband. So did Armistead.
I was lying in bed reading this last night and getting more and more depressed. So I bookmarked it, tossed it down, turned out the light and went to sleep.
There are times, such as these, when I wonder (even though I know I shouldn't) just what kind of divine plan I'm supposed to be fulfilling.
Or maybe it's just the crappy weather.