This is late in the making. I know.

I  have diabetes. I have diabetes. I have diabetes. I have diabetes. I have diabetes. I have diabetes. I have diabetes. I have diabetes. I have diabetes.

All together now.

LESBIAN!

(Sorry, Boston Legal reference there, couldn’t help myself)

Diabetes is a bitch. The thing is, it was worse admitting it than doing something about it.

I knew I had it about a month before I finally said enough. I got insatiably thirsty, urinated all of it out (and then some), then drank more water. Rinse, lather, repeat. I couldn’t even drive 10 miles without having to stop at a mcdonalds and down a couple of sweet-tea Styrofoam-cup fulls. The next morning, at desk job, my boss said I looked greener than Kermit, and banished me back home.

That afternoon I went to the doctors, saw a physican’s assistant (PA) (If somehow you read this, Jennifer, I LOVE YOU!) and told her what I thought.

Against her advice (I love surprising doctors), she took my blood for an A1c test.

Let’s stop here for a biochem lesson.

When you eat sugar or carbs, the stomach breaks down the sugar (REALLY easily) and the starch (A HELL of a lot harder) into sugar. Carbs are known as “complex sugars”. From there, the sugar (now officially “Glucose”, but sugar is easier to type) slips into your bloodstream into the plasma.

Plasma is a yellowish liquid that carries blood cells. It’s essentially a soup of all the proteins, sugar and other molecules you produce or eat.

An A1C test takes a sample of your blood, distills it down to the plasma, then checks to see how concentrated your sugar is. A1C comes in a numerical quantity ranging from zero to (let’s say) 20. Normally, anything BELOW seven is awesome, anything below 6 is even greater (see chart).

So this means if you have an A1C of 6, your average blood sugar level is approximately 126. Normal, after-eating levels should be anywhere from 100-120. Fasting, no food, levels should be 80-100. Disregard the mmol/L column, I believe that’s metric system.

Anyway, back to moi, end the lesson. When I received my results, I had a 14.2 A1C. That roughly translates to a 345 blood sugar level (All together now, LESBIAN!). My PA was shocked, I was -facepalming-, all was fun in the world of this Son of a Prick.

ADD Moment

“Uhm, Like.. WHY Is this called Son of a Prick?!”
-insert Valley Girl head tilt here-

Typically, you prick your finger to test your blood sugar. While I use my arm, (it hurts less)
I’m the lucky genetic lotto winner to have received my Diabetes from my father. He pricks his finger.
DA DAH!

P.S: Let me know if you like this kind of thing.

I leave you now (to go write the next post) with this comment:

“I have an erection. That’s a good sign. I’m ready to go to trial.“
-Denny Crane, ‘Boston Legal’