It was a cold day in October 2008 when I was told I had diabetes type 2. The doctor who told me remarked how well I had accepted the news. And why shouldn’t I have?
After all, type 2 diabetes was a result of my lifestyle. I could easily change that. Controlled by diet and tablets I would soon be right as rain. After all, I did not have to inject insulin as my father had for years before he died at the age of fifty-two. Type 2 diagnosis seemed to me a bit of a let off for all my years of overindulging.
I could also see the added benefits of my disease. Free prescriptions, regular health check-ups, diet advice. I will be well looked after until I was well again.
The first impact on my life was to prove far-reaching and immediate.
My partner, who was seventeen years my junior, jettisoned me within three months of my diagnosis. She had seen me pile on the weight, was desperate to have children and figured that as I was in my fifties I was unlikely to be healthy enough long-term to have children with her. It was very painful at the time as I loved her to bits, but I could see where she was coming from. I was to face this disease alone.
The doctor made an appointment for me to see the in-house diabetic nurse, a lovely woman with a gentle and sympathetic manner. She gave me a thorough check-up. She took a blood test to check my sugar and cholesterol levels, checked my feet to see what feeling I had in them and booked an appointment to have my eyesight tested. All these tests monitor the major decline in eyesight, blood flow to the feet and ensure I am not likely to drop dead of a heart attack or have a stroke.
I was prescribed two sets of tablets. Metformin to help reduce blood sugar levels and Simvastin to reduce cholesterol levels. I am still taking them to this very day. My cholesterol is nearly perfect but I have some way to go on reducing my sugar levels, which are still very high. I am now on double the dose of Metformin.
Fast-forward to today, April 2010. My weight is 19 stone, three pounds, and height 5 feet, ten inches, clinically very obese with a blood sugar level of 13.6, almost 3 times the amount it should be.
I have obviously got to take this diabetes a lot more seriously if I am to live a healthy and longer life than my father.
This blog will track my progress as I prepare a battle plan to deal with it. I hope you will follow me on my journey, as I need all the encouragement and support I can get.
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