First off, I think I need to inform anyone that is reading this... that I think this blog is going to be painfully long. So ahead of time, if you are not a reader of long blogs, I release you with no holds barred. I won’t take offense. If you want to continue and read this... welcome and please know that it means so very much to me for you are taking the time.
Second, Hello! It’s been a while!
Third, while I don’t like to be a downer or focus on negative things, I must acknowledge that there is a myriad of things going on in my brain as I write this. It is 2:30 in the morning (which may explain some of the rambling that may take place in this blog because, man, I’m tired) but I just can’t sleep because my head just won’t shut up. I need to get stuff out... Which in turn lead to me deciding to write my first blog in months.
So, many things have happened in the last several months and unfortunately, much of it has not been on the happy side of the rainbow, so to speak. I fear this blog may not be the happiest and most cheery of my little collection because I quite frankly, I need to be real, not only with you all but with myself. Time to admit to all these little pitiful excuses and occurrences that are interfering with my progress. So here I am, spilling it all, right here and right now. This is my attempt to dig myself out of this hole, so I can pick myself up, so I can move on, at least this is what I am making a sincere effort to do.
I guess saying pitiful excuses isn’t fair to myself. Yes, I have been using them as crutches to aid my struggle but they are also real and painful and frustrating and, gee wiz, there are ridiculously too many.
I suppose, if there is anywhere to start it would be in July. I was doing great for months! I hadn’t lost much weight but my clothes were getting loser and my attitude was genuinely chipper. I was proud of myself... I went from not being able to walk around the block to walking 2 miles with a bounce in my step every step of the way. I really felt like I was finally accomplishing something in terms of being healthier and in turn, happier.
Until one day, I went to see my doctor. I walked in there with my head held high and walked out with it hanging very low. What I needed from her was praise and what I got was, “that’s not enough”. And while she was right, it killed my spirit. Please know that in no way am I blaming her for my most recent stumble. She didn’t say it with maliciousness. I am aware that how I heard it, isn’t the way she said it. She did say those words just not with the snide, judgemental tone that my brain likes to recall.
That being said however, I do think that after seeing me for 10+ years as a patient she should have been aware how to approach things with me. A “you are doing great, let’s see how much more you can do!” would have gone so much farther than “that’s not enough”. Especially coming from someone the size of my thigh. I walked the mile and a half to her office and back for goodness sake and to me that in itself was huge! So, I’m just saying, bad choice of words on her part and shame on me for letting it bring me down. My test results didn’t help the situation either. My sugars were still refusing to go down. My A1c was 10.9. Gahhh!
So my ‘spark’ began to fade almost immediately after leaving her office. I did manage to continue with this adventure of weight loss and effort on and off throughout August. I had given up on that 100 straight days even though I was SOOO close to pulling it off, day 94 and I quit.... for shame.
I began eating inappropriate things because somewhere in the back of my head, I let those test results drag down my efforts. If I’m eating healthier and exercising more than I ever have in my life and those damned sugars were still are not cooperating, then why not just eat crap, right?
Yeah, this is not of sound mind there folks...unfortunately, this is where my thoughts have stayed ever since... I reiterate, this is not a wise choice, especially with my health problems and I will tell you more a little later.
In September, I sorta strapped back on my walking shoes and was going to try to get back to my routine.... but a couple weeks in, I took a fall while on my way to pick up my son from his bus. I wrote a blog about it on here called “Mesama Bites the Dust” and was able to joke about my stupidity and laugh at the whole experience. I thought I had walked away with just a few scrapes, bruises and a sore ankle. I was very wrong.
Now, I do not know what exactly I did. I have yet to seek medical advice on this but ever since I have had very restricted movement in my right arm. Every time I reach for something or strain my arm in any way, I get a severe pain in my arm that most of the time drives me to tears. I cannot sleep on it, for long anyway, and it just plain bothers me, not all the time but often I get a painful reminded that I cannot use it like I use to. Yes, I know I need to bring this up to my doctor but right about now, with everything going on, all I can think is... “What’s the point? I obviously hurt myself fairly badly and now it is healed wrong. It really is too late to do anything about it.” This may not be the case and I won’t know until I broach the subject with a doctor but there have been so many other things I have had to go see her about that that has taken a back burner.
In October, my baby niece was born and strangely, while I loved her immediately, it made me very sad. Her birth just brought back some very traumatizing memories. Along with this has come some very challenging things (that are not my business to share) have taken place that has... well, let’s just say, things have been challenging for everyone. Extended family is just fan-freakin-tastic and I am confident that most of you know what I mean.
November comes, bleeds into December and now that I am looking back, it was one big “AHHHHH! Make it stop” roller coaster.... We all are enjoying the new baby (up) but not enjoying the multitude of other family ‘dramas’ (down). I also manage to get a cold that turns into acute sinusitis and it holds on through 2 rounds of antibiotics and is just now clearing up... Three. Months. Later!
Also, in November an onslaught of attacks come at my husband and I via our 15 year old son. I am learning more and more of what is/was going on every day, even now. This is embarrassing for me to share because it makes me feel like a failure as a mother but how can I express the gravity and stress in life caused by it without sharing... so, let’s just say that my beloved son has been making many choices that could forever change the course of his life and they are not on the route to the positive.
I have no clue where it all went wrong or why. We are doing our best to send clear and concise expectations and punishments. It is still an every day struggle that is dragging me down fast and sometimes I feel like I am drowning. I am praying that my son will eventually see that he is the only one that can make restitution for his mistakes. Mommy can’t rescue him from these ones and she has no desire to do so.... Time to sleep in that bed you made buddy. I’m still your mom and love you but I can’t make this go away. That is up to you. I’ll support any positive choices you make but I can’t allow you to continue hurting your family and/or destroy your future.... There is oh so much I wish he would hear. Teenagers!
Sigh, anyway, in early January, I broke out my brand spanking new mandoline slicer to make eggplant lasagna for dinner. In my lack of intelligence and misleading over confidence in my cooking ability, I decided to slice off my fingernail and a small part of my finger. Oh joy! I figured a 15 inch eggplant gave me enough distance from the blade that I didn’t need the guard right away because I just couldn’t get it to slice with enough force with it on. Three slices in, it slips and well.... lesson learned the hard way. Ouch!
A couple weeks later, the cut looks fine and is healing well (It will take 8-10 weeks to heal completely). However, I have a slight sensitivity to medical tape adhesive and what the doctor used when he wrapped my finger irritated the skin around the bottom of my nail and that got infected! Gah! Really? Well I guess it’s for the better because that led to yet another doctor appointment, that lead to more antibiotics, that lead to my sinus infection clearing up. I hate not being able to use that finger (especially with endless supply of dirty dishes mounting up on my counters) but I am learning to adapt for now. Good news is I got my revenge and still managed to prepare that eggplant lasagna and my family ate well!
Okay. What else? Oh....
I hate this... this is a reality of my life that I don’t like. I have shared with you sparkers before about this but have never had the guts to actually share a picture of my actual skin. Some may find this gross and I apologize, I have shared a picture from the internet of it but this is actually me.... my hairy leg to be exact.... bleh.
I have psoriasis and I have it bad. I have it exactly like shown above on just about every inch (yes, EVERY inch) of my body except my face which I manage to keep semi-clear because I am meticulous about keeping it that way. I cannot afford the oral medications that are helping so many and well, illness and stress are HUGE stressors for making it inflamed like that and I have had an abundance of both lately. The ointment they give me does help, however they will only give me a one pound tub of it a month and well, lets be real... they want me to put it on 2-3 times a day. It is an ointment therefore it does not spread l well. I have a BIG body. Get the picture? I am just not given enough to put it on that often.... sigh. What can I do?
So, in all honesty, this is something that also plagues me. It messes with my head quite frankly.... Let’s face it, just being big is viewed as “gross” to many people. To me, this condition, with it’s mass amounts all over my body is another reason of “why should I even try?”
Please let me explain this train of thought, it may not be sound but it’s still a fact.... In my head... even if I manage to lose all this excess weight, I am still going to walk around with this nasty looking skin that people are repulsed by. I manage to hide behind clothes during the winter but the truth is... it hurts as terribly as it looks, physically and emotionally. People who don’t recognize it look at me like I am going to give them something. That’s not the case but some treat you like a leper and that is so discouraging. So even if I lose the weight, I will still have this. It will never go away. It will always be with me, maybe not always this bad but always threatening to return at a moments notice because it is in my genetics. It just plain sucks.
So now... lets take a look at what has brought me back here... writing a blog on sparkpeople shall we....?
I’m in trouble.... health wise.
I mean I have been since I was 23 years old but it just got real. I’ve had this disease for 12-13 years now and only twice since being diagnosed have I managed to control it. All during my pregnancy with my second son and for a brief time a couple of years ago.
I have never had a complete grasp on what works for me. I have tried things and gotten discouraged, tried others and the whole vicious cycle continues. I’ve become so frustrated and disappointed in myself that, here it is again, being real... I’ve given up.
I’m not proud of this but I’ve taken to lying to my doctors. I tell them that I am doing my best in trying to watch the foods I eat but in reality, I will eat anything and everything in sight and mass amounts of it.
Telling them, that I test my sugars but the truth is, I stopped doing that quite some time ago because those numbers just depress me, they never go down and real again... It’s just easier to tell yourself they are fine. Plus, those strips are ridiculously expensive and we just can’t afford to buy them, especially since, deep down, I know the numbers really aren’t going to be good.
I lie about other things too.... I tell them I’m taking my meds. I do, some of the time. Insulin stretches farther on a tight budget if you skip a dose a day. Metformin makes me sick to my stomach and they just keep upping the dosage, even with my protests so it’s just easier to say you are taking them than being constantly nauseated and on the toilet. Sometimes, I forget my blood pressure and cholesterol medications too.
I know! I know! This is NOT good! PLEASE don’t chastise me.... this is not why I am here. That is not what I need because I have awakened and now I am aware... I need help. In complete honesty, I am scared.
While my doc had me in there last week for my infected finger, she joked, that while she had me trapped she wanted to get my blood tests.... hahaha.... uh oh. I again lied and told her I ate that morning (I didn’t), she said “That’s okay, we will do the non-fasting one” and sent me to get them done. I’m not sure if doing the non-fasting one when you are is all that different or not but that is what happened... I admittedly was very tempted to just leave instead of going to the lab because remember? It is easier to pretend nothing is wrong. But I didn’t and for that, I guess I have to give myself a smidgeon of credit. I knew the tests wouldn’t be pretty. I knew they would show how terrible I was being to my body but I did it anyway.
So yesterday, I got the results and for the first time ever my doctor showed true concern for the oncoming condition of my eyes and kidneys.... My A1c is 12.3... the highest number we have ever seen but what did I expect? I have been living my life like I am a hypoglycemic rather than a hyperglycemic. I’ve lying to my doctors, my family and myself about my condition every time I shove something in my mouth or skip my medications or that walk.
So here I am, laying it all on the line.... I am getting real and owning up to my lies, excuses and ignorance, so I won’t let myself believe them anymore.
I am here... I guess, I didn’t quite let myself acknowledge just how much I was trying to ignore all the terrible things I’ve been doing to my body and self. No wonder I feel terrible all the time. No wonder I just want to sleep day in and day out. No wonder.... just no wonder.... I’ve been killing myself, slowly but surely.
So here I am, being real with you all and putting out a hope and a prayer that it isn’t too late for me. I have a plan to go see every doctor I have been putting off (eyes, skin, diabetic specialist, nutritionist) and sucking it all up and admitting my lack of self care to them. No more lies and actually do what they tell me to do.
I am putting out a hope and a prayer, that I still have people who care for me. That I have supporters. I just hope I can save me because like I have been telling my son, who is challenging everything in life right now... I am the only one that can fix this. I am the only one who can make this change. I’m just hoping I can do it with a little bit of love and encouragement from the people around me. From people like you.
Thank you for reading.... I hope, no... I plan to be back.... I have to start over at square one and writing this blog was that first step. Hello step two....