Sometimes being an adult can mean loads of fun and freedom--like when you eat popcorn for lunch (because no one else is home to raise their eyebrows at your questionable nutritional choice), or when you stay up late to finish watching a silly movie (just because Bradley Cooper happens to be in it, and there's even a slight possibility he might take his shirt off). But other times, of course, you have to suck it up and do the responsible thing...like getting a Physical because you're trying to be a grownup about the fact that you're aging, and any day now a myriad of things could start breaking down, rendering you a pathetic quivering shell of your former, hale and hearty self. (Too much? Yeah, probably. I like to skip directly to "worst case scenario" so I can receive my actual results with a sense of relief and gratitude.)
So anyway, I went to see my doctor for the whole charming "paper gown interlude", complete with the checking of vital signs and the visual examination and the poking in the arm with a needle to draw blood for tests. Although it's supremely undignified to converse with another human being while wearing a disposable napkin, I felt that the in-office stuff nevertheless went well. Then a few days later the lab work had been processed, and someone called to discuss it with me. But instead of a nurse just reading the results right away, I got the long pause, and an ominous "let me transfer you to the technician". Uh oh. That's never good, right? It turns out that my cholesterol, Vitamin D, and fasting glucose were all fine. (Whoo hoo!) But I showed elevated levels of some mysterious substance called "Hemoglobin a1c". Oh no, not that! I'm doomed! (Hand on forehead, sagging dramatically as if to...swoon...) Hold on a minute--I have no earthly idea what that means. (Short-circuit the panic attack...for the moment...)
According to the voice on the other end of the phone, it puts me at risk for developing Diabetes. Now, all kidding aside, the very D-word strikes a chord of fear in my bones, as there is a pretty strong family tendency towards it, on my mother's side. The lady further explained that I should monitor my sugar intake, and my carbs, and also visit this certain website that would guide me in making dietary changes. Okay...I'm a little stunned by these revelations (nah, I'm having a full-blown internal freak-out, yet hiding it well...so far), but I dutifully follow up by checking out the recommended website. And the first thing that's mentioned--and the second, and the third, and the fourth--is how important it is for people with Diabetes to lose weight and increase their physical activity. Um...now I'm just pissed off. I follow a vegetarian diet, weigh what I should, and exercise six days a week, so this is not exactly what you'd call helpful or insightful information for me, personally. Speaking of which, besides the stupid family gene-thingie: Why. The. H-E-C-K...should I even be at risk for this? Digging around a little more, I found...absolutely nothing specific in terms of explanations regarding sugar and carb intake, or suggestions for managing my diet in such a way as to reduce my overall blood sugar by the time I go back in for a retest.
So, short of consulting a nutritionist (which I might do anyway, 'cuz what could it hurt?) I started pondering ways to eliminate some sugar from my daily food regime. Well, where should I begin? Oh yeah, when I wake up in the morning I grab a Dove chocolate (One small, wrapped piece! Don't judge!) while setting up the coffee pot. Why? Um...I suppose it cancels out the morning breath while I wait for my java? (I realize now that this is a terrible habit, but honestly I never even thought about it, until I caught myself cringing in shame while admitting it on paper...I mean on-screen. Okay, that's one habitual behavior out the window. Feeling more virtuous and less sugar-fied already! Onward!) Then I drink my coffee...with cream and sugar. And if I have to give up either of those things, I'll quit the coffee too, because I do not love black, bitter brew. Hmmm, it seems my morning packs quite a bit of sweetness into it, and I haven't even left the house yet! Then there's the banana I eat later for a snack, with (gazing at floor, mumbling into hand)...Nutella. Ouch. I'm a bonafide walking sugar bomb, and I didn't even have the first clue! And I haven't even mentioned the cookie or muffin I sometimes buy at work as an afternoon pick-me-up...or the bonus Dove chocolate I pop into my mouth when I get home, to reward myself for...having worked so hard. Or the after-dinner dessert, since it seems a good time to have a little something sweet to end the day. Holy White Crystal Overload, Batman! I have some serious cleansing to do! (And that's just the stuff I actually know I'm ingesting, much less the hidden sugar in foods that come in boxes...where I don't read the labels...I'm getting a severe sugar shock just thinking about this...)
Yeah, so if you happen to encounter me in the next few days or weeks, and I seem...cranky....or out-of-sorts...or I suddenly frisk you to in search of some leftover Easter candy in your pockets...don't be alarmed. I'm sure once the glucose works its way out of my system I'll have wicked cravings for broccoli and carrots, and the world will be safe once again! Just, whatever you do, however much I beg, do NOT offer me a cupcake!
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