So I had an appointment with my doctor this morning.  I knew going into her office what she was going to tell me because I had been able to look at some lab tests at work.  I knew what the results of those lab tests meant.  Yes, she officially diagnosed me as having diabetes.  The diagnosis came out of the blue because I haven’t been having any symptoms, and actually feel just fine.  A routine lab draw showed an elevated fasting blood sugar and we followed that up with two separate glucose tolerance tests.  They were both elevated.  The fasting blood sugar was only very slightly elevated, so I wasn’t too concerned at that point.  I wasn’t even terribly worried when the first glucose tolerance test came back high.  I managed to convince myself that there had to be some reason it was skewed, inaccurate, just not right.  Yes, denial can be very powerful.  But then the second glucose tolerance test result was even higher.  At that point, the denial began to crumble.  Sure, I kept hoping my doctor would tell me it was a mistake right up until the minute she said the word diabetes, but I knew in the back of my mind there was no mistake.  The good news is that my glucose levels aren’t horribly out of control, so I don’t need to be on insulin.  Just an oral diabetic medication.  And my doctor said that we caught this early enough that I have a great deal of control in my hands to determine how this plays out… how bad it gets.  And I’m in a position where I’m extremely motivated to take that control.  I’ve seen the worst of what happens when people with diabetes don’t control their blood sugars.  It ends up effecting literally every system of your body, one by one.  I refuse to let that happen.  I’m only 41.  I have far too many years left to live and far too many reasons to stay healthy.  I went shopping today for healthy snack foods, found a yummy very low carb pasta, and bought an iced tea machine because I like my iced tea when I get up in the evening and have been drinking sweetened bottled stuff and need to change that.  I’m definitely motivated to do what I need to do.  It’s scary, a little overwhelming, but going to be ok.  My mom asked me today how I am with this, not physically but in my head.  I told her “mostly ok,” and it’s true.

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