You'll only feel a little prick...

Well smack my ass and call me Judy...

Having the type II (non-insulin dependent) Diabetes requires that I see my doctor every three months to have blood drawn. They check the fasting blood sugar (reading first thing in the morning before you've eaten anything) and the hA1C (a kind-of 3 month average of what your blood sugar level has been) among other things like cholesterol and all that. I hate this. I hate waiting to talk to the doctor so he can write up a slip to give to the lab tech so I can a little longer for her to draw my blood. I hate that they always have to draw the blood from the back of my hand instead of my arm, because the veins in my arms always roll when they try to get the needle in. And I hate the inevitable phone call from the doctor's office to schedule an appointment for me to discuss the results with the doctor. I've done this for 3 years now. I should be used to it. But it still irritates me.

I found out I was diabetic about 9 months or so before I got pregnant. When you're diabetic and you're pregnant, you're high risk right out of the gate. For me, this meant 2-3 times the number of normal doctor's appointments, checking my blood sugar 4-times everyday, giving myself an insulin injection ever evening, watching zealously everything that I ate, calling my doctor's office twice each week to report my blood sugar readings, and on and on and on. By the last 5 weeks or so of my pregnancy, I was going to the doctor - no joke - twice a week. It was EXHAUSTING.

Once he was born, I couldn't help but thing 'Oh heavenly day!! I can eat without worrying about what it's doing to the little creature growing inside me!!' and I went a little nuts (I'm even craving a Kit-Kat as I sit writing this...). I thought I'd give myself a month or two of a little freedom, because I'd earned it, hadn't I? K would get on me about being too hard on myself and worrying too much about what my readings were. I love him with all my heart, but he'll never understand the feeling of being completely, utterly responsible for a living being that's growing inside of you. And knowing that if this baby is born with problems because you didn't keep yourself in check, that it's your fault. I have enough guilt... I should be Catholic I have so much guilt... I don't need anymore. Of course, then, a month or two turned into 6, which turned into 12, and now here we are almost 2 years later. And the end result of my month or two of freedom is that the results of last week's bloodwork were SO bad that the doctor has put me back on a daily insulin shot until it's under control.

I was livid when I left the doctor's office.

I don't care what anyone says, it fucking hurts to stick YOURSELF with a needle, no matter how big or small it is.

At least I got a cool, new, state-of-the-art injection 'pen' to use instead of having to measure the insulin into syringes and tap out the air-bubbles like I did while pregnant. But I won't even go into what I had to go through to get the prescription filled (trips to 3 different pharmacies plus a return phone call AND visit to the doctor's office).

Of course, K says it will all be okay... as he cringes while watching me give myself the injection in my stomach.

I have no one but myself to blame for all this... and that only makes it worse. But K says he's going to 'get healthy' with me this time. We'll see. Back to scouring the cookbooks for healthy recipes that don't take too much effort and that he'll eat. Back to the treadmill in the corner of the living room, unless I want to dance along to the Wiggles with W.T.

Serenity now... serenity now... serenity now...