Here’s the tough part: I love food and hate exercise. I also love to cook (and bake) a lot – which means that sampling – even for the sake of making sure what I’m making is edible, is tough.
When I was first diagnosed, I was angry – why? Because I love eating. And also because I had to change my habits – which, was basically the bottom line. Also, it isn’t fair, but that opens up an entirely different can of worms.
Change is tough. In fact, change sucks. Why? Because we are creatures of habit. But I had – and have – no choice. If I want to live until the ripe old age of 90 (that’s right), I needed to learn how to take care of myself.
I had to learn about the Glycemic Index (or GI - a rating system that tells you how quickly foods will break down in your system…the higher the GI, the faster it breaks down in your system, causing a sugar spike and unnecessary stress on your body).
I had to learn about carb counting and sugar measuring (joy to the world), so that I could determine how much insulin I needed to inject into my system (3 needles a day into my stomach – one with each meal – which oddly enough, doesn’t hurt at all. There’s also a fourth needle with a different kind of insulin that I need to take before I sleep).
I had to learn about the effects of alcohol – which can lower sugar levels, causing hypoglycemia. If sugar levels are too low, it can do permanent damage to the body – because ultimately, low sugar levels can lead to seizures.
But before the seizures set in, there are a bunch of warning signs that I am very aware of: double vision or blurry vision; *fast or pounding heartbeat; *feeling cranky or acting aggressive; *feeling nervous; *headache; *hunger; *shaking or trembling; *sleeping trouble; *sweating; tingling or numbness of the skin; *tiredness or weakness; and *unclear thinking.
(Luckily, I’ve never – touch wood – ever, experienced a seizure. I always carry candy with me to boost my sugar levels up when needed).
And to top this off, insulin causes weight gain. Which means calorie control.
Did I mention that I HATE exercise? And I do exercise – but this also goes back to hypoglycemia – because physical activity can lower blood sugar levels too much.
What a lovely disease, type 1 diabetes is, eh?
To be fair though, the diagnosis wasn’t a complete surprise. Diabetes (type 1 and 2) runs on both sides of my family, so my doctor has been looking for it since I was 12. I was diagnosed as pre-diabetic when I was in my early 20s, so I was already familiar with testing my blood sugar levels (i.e. finger stabbing) regularly. I was also put on metformin, a pill I had to take whenever I ate.
But being pre-diabetic and having type 1 diabetes is very different. In fact, it’s a completely different ball game – with so many more complications.
For example, if I develop an infection (i.e. ear, nose, throat) and need to go on antibiotics, I need to be careful because antibiotics can affect my body’s ability to absorb the insulin I put into my system, which can increase sugar levels.
If I’m stressed, I need to de-stress (enter baking because it forces me to concentrate completely on something) and be careful because it can increase sugar levels.
If I’m busy and get distracted and just randomly put food into my system, I need to be careful because lots of foods are carb heavy, and it can increase sugar levels.
These are the daily battles.
Long-term, diabetes can lead to kidney failure, increased risk of heart disease, etc., etc., etc.,
But that’s not to say it’s all doom and gloom. What I’ve learned in the last little while is to actively take care of myself. I read all I can about diabetes. I read about new treatments, clinical trials (I even enrolled myself into a trial when I first found out) and about other people’s experiences.
When I was first diagnosed, I was afraid to eat. I didn’t understand diabetes and it was something I ran away from for a little while. But slowly, I began to understand.
Do I ever sit down to a huge piece chocolate cake or a plate full of potatoes? Sometimes. But that’s a BIG treat. Indulgence isn’t bad. Just like being diabetic isn’t all bad. It forces me into a healthier lifestyle. And in the end, it’s all about balance.
I’ve made my peace with being diabetic. Though some days are tougher than others.
If you’re reading this, thanks for taking the time to understand.
*Symptoms I’ve experienced.
