The Big White Bag
Sorry for the delay. I knew I had some stuff coming up, and I wanted to wait to go through it before I wrote again. So two days ago, I went in for my teaching..for gestational diabetes. First, some history. My mom, within the last few years, got her very own diabetes teaching, and I really didn't think about what that meant for her, or for me, for that matter until a few days ago. For her it's a matter of doing things differently, but also keeping a fine line of what's all and well, and what's not all good. We all know what can go horribly wrong with diabetes untreated and undiagnosed, and that honestly terrified the shit out of me. That also contributed to my radio/blog silence over the last few days.
Knowing that diabetes runs in my family, and watching people succumb or come out of the woods changed and transformed really made this diagnosis hit home for me. I don't want to make it seem like this is a minor thing...I've tried to play it off these last few days, but it's not really working.
I've made a conscious decision to do my best to take care of myself better, but at the same time, I've made promises to myself and have broken them before (see boyfriends #2, 6 and 9...JK, not really). So while it's hard to turn down a piece of cake, god, how hard it truly is, especially when it's a handmade lemon cake, it's a fact of life for me now, not just until Bambina gets here, but even afterwards. Well, maybe after I have my post-birth celebratory sushi, beer, and ice cream party in September. You're all welcome to Gluttony Fest 2008, btw.
Anyways, so I get a terse email from my doctor with two sentences. "You have gestational diabetes. Nurse will call you." I sat in front of my computer screen and stared at it. It was hard to not feel like I was just handed a death sentence. Holy smokes. I'm condemned to eat rabbit food for the next few months, I thought to myself. If you know me, which most of you do by now, you'll understand this is just like taking candy away from a verified sugartooth, which is me, entirely!
I wait by the phone for a call. It doesn't come for three days. Aw crap. In a meanwhile, I'm doing research, reading every article I can, stealing glances at my mom's diabetes materials. I went grocery shopping. Switch out Honey Nut Cheerios for Ultima Organic High Fiber Cereal (farewell rotund little bee who greeted me every morning, and hello happy healthy white women who urge me to exercise). Bought things that were low-to-non-fat and things flavored with honey instead of raw sugar.
The phone call comes, and it's to schedule an appointment. That's wierd. I expected a full on lecture on the phone, but it was just to set a time to meet...okaaaay. So the date is set, a week later. Apparently the dietician only comes in once a week. Nice job if you can get it, I guess. As the days tick away, I have a great weekend with Husbandido's family and find myself having a dinner and dim sum (two separate events, mind you) on Saturday and Sunday. Oh and on one of the last warm days of the week, a scoop of Thin Mint at Mitchell's ice cream. Funnily enough, I thought of it as a fond farewell. For now. Not forever. I'm not that crazy. Sort of.
Aside: We get to Mitchell's after sushi (I didn't have sushi, mind you, but a basic bento box while everyone passed sushi under my nose. Sad.), and it's 10 to 10. There was a crazy big crowd outsideI thought they close at 10PM, but alas, they don't. We pull up, get #70. (you have to pull a number from a machine at the door and wait your turn, dammit). Then we look up at the number being called...it's 19. Holy shit. Worth it? YES. Anyways...
A week passes, and throughout the week, I'm keeping an eye on what to eat; it's not as hard as it seems, but it's hard to quantify what's an appropriate snack/carb/food and just what exact serving size I need to worry about. 1/3 cup of cooked rice? I'm Filipino. Madness ensues. My craving, fruit of all sorts and sizes, becomes suspect. I wish, for some reason, I could subsist on fruit entirely. I would gladly eat an apple six times a day (I think I may have actually done that once), but I'm not sure if that's recommended (it's not).
My nurse, during the phone call, sent me to the pharmacy to pick up what's waiting for me: a glucometer, test control strips, and lansets. I show up to my appointment, and I am greeted with a huge white bag. I always wondered why people would ever get a prescription of what would likely be a lifetime supply of viagra or flatulence reduction meds. Honestly, I even eyed with some disdain those large bag carriers because there was some serious shit going on in that bag. And here I am, large bag in hand, hurredly trying to get to my next appointment.
Earlier that morning, I woke up at 4AM with a huge stomach ache. Not like "Valkryie needs poop badly," more like "Elf needs food badly." Seriously? I'm hungry? Strange. Too tired to eat, I went back to sleep, only to wake up two hours later with a bowl of cereal (Fiber, no more Honey Nut), and off to my appointment I go. Stomach somehow doesn't settle down all day. By 10 AM, I'm starving again, starting to feel like I will strangle someone if they're eating a danish next to me just to lick the sugar off their fingers.
The first meeting that AM was with a diabetes trainer. It was kinda lame actually, because she just taught me how to take blood for my glucometer. It was rather strange, that she showed me how to set it up, and then said, "let's do a blood draw for your test" without cleaning off my finger or her hands. Okay, whatever. Poke goes the lancet (OUCH), and blood goes into test strip. Looks easily, but I try to absorb it all, making mental notes as I go along to make sure I clean my hands off.
I get passed off to the dietician who winds up showing up 30 minutes late, and by then, when she says, "How are you doing?" I reply that I'm starving, and pretty much say, "Let's move this along so I can eat something ASAP." I hate being difficult with people, but by then I have been in a good rhythm with my diet, eating 5 times a day, and this was cramping my style.
**I just for some godawful reason just clicked away onto another page and lost about a good five paragraphs. I think I might cry over it, but I won't. I'll just summarize things:
1. Rubber food looks like barf.
2. I learned way more than I thought I would. Fruits = good. Just eat with protein. Eat every 2-3 hours. No more cereal for breakfast. Eat before bed = WIN.
3. Doing glucose counts every freakin' meal is a pain in the finger (get it?), but it's been interesting. I just um keep forgetting to do it on time.
4. My favorite line from what I wrote that was erased: "I woke up at 430AM reliving my 27th birthday at Elroy's."
5. My second favorite line: "As I looked in the fridge, I started to realize half of the things I bought, with the interest of eating better are no longer edible in my world: I started into a litany of what I couldn't eat: St. Jude of Thin Mint Ice Cream, pray for us. St. Mary of 6 apples a day, pray for us. "
At any rate, that's life. What are you going to do. I am hoping that this signals permanent change in my life for the better, because nothing would make me happier than being sure that I'm healthy and will be around for a while to blog about Bambina's life. Maybe I'll do it eating rabbit food, but I'll still be around.
Now if only I can find an organic cupcake with no sugar to make things better.
Voodoo
Comments
On subject 2 ... Eat before bed = WIN? I can dig that one! No cereal for bkfst might be a tall order though.
So gestational diabetes usually goes away after pregnancy, right?
Posted by: macroach | June 28, 2008 10:05 PM
As someone who has been there before, I understand. As you said, it's all in Bambina's best interest. A little sugar is OK - it's the carbs that do you in.
Posted by: sabrinasmom | June 29, 2008 10:02 AM
1. yes, should clear up after delivery and such
2. carbs bad. sugar ok. prefer carbs. damn damn DAMN!
Posted by: voodoo | June 29, 2008 09:28 PM