One of the things on my life list is to get my blood sugar issues figured out and under control once and for all.
So I’m pretty sure I’m failing at this one because it seems to be getting worse. Yes. Worse. My OB told me I should lose X amount of weight and I should be on the OK side of the line – I’m 13 pounds away from that weight and I have been for about a year, NOTHING I do will take any more weight off. I don’t know what to do. Or what to think. I’m happy here, at this weight. I feel good, I feel healthy, except for the constant need to put sugar in my mouth or risk fainting.
Which, people, that happens EVERY SINGLE DAY.
I’m pretty sure I could be organized about life and feed myself on a schedule which will help. I realize I’m part of the problem but this is how it was explained to me. My BMI is over a certain whatever … line maybe? I don’t know – it’s too high which means my pancreas just can’t handle the sugar in my blood for my body size, I deduce this to my pancreas being too small for my body mass. And if the body mass comes down then the pancreas can play catch up and keep my body healthy – along with me keeping what goes in my mouth healthy, etc.
I understand it. It makes perfect sense to me. SO WHY CAN’T I MAKE IT WORK. Why can’t I get it to that point? I don’t get it. At all.
I’ve seen nutritionist, counselors, health professionals, chiropractors and even tried to get in to my OB (which I had to schedule an apt in Oct way back in March) to remedy this. I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong. Do I just have diabetes? Is that the battle I’ll be fighting for the rest of my life? Why can’t you tell me what’s going on?
I’ve written about you before. I apologize for that. I realize I wasn’t very nice to you, but you are not being nice to me either. And, yes, I am getting all four-year-old-attitude-life-isn’t-fair-I’m-a-princess on you right now. It has been 18 months since we first found out you were on strike. Eighteen. I’ve poked my fingers thousands of times, given myself insulin numerous times a day WHILE I WAS PREGNANT and I did it your way. I did it all your way. Supported you. The big idea was to get you through the pregnancy and my pay off was supposed to be that you would snap back into working order once I pushed that 9 pound baby out of my SELF.
My person. Me. I pushed another human being out of ME and you’re still acting like a bitch. You are a bitch, pancreas. I can’t lie. I’m so sick of it.
This is me. Your host. And I would like to take a moment to tell you to get over it. I am counting to 3 and then I’m going to spank you, hard, if you don’t cut it out and listen to me RIGHT NOW.
Am I supposed to be all Atkins for the rest of my life? Gluten free? I WILL DRINK POISON IF YOU WILL PROMISE TO STOP.
I’m kidding, I love you. I’m sorry. I just … I don’t know what to do. I’m active and I work out and exercise … often! I went through a boot camp this summer for you, for us, so we could be together.
What do you need from me?