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First, a piece of general health news: I'm off at Ipsos until January 24th while they try to lock down my anti-depressant load. *grimace* This is both frustrating and embarassing. My pysch doc has promised he'll try to pull some strings and slot me back into a repeat of the Dialectical Behavioral Theraphy (DBT) course I took a few years back which had such excellent results. Apparently some people need to repeat the course several times. This manages to make me feel a bit less like a failure.
Yesterday: the diabetic clinic at Health Sciences Center here in Winnipeg.
The good news: the blood glucose meter (a One Touch Ultra, and boy, was I surprised at how small it is) is free. Pricking the fingers isn't that bad -- they have a spring-loaded pen that automatically does it for you.
The bad news: the cost of supplies. Each test strip for the meter (usable only once) is 80 cents to $1 in cost. The needles also run about a dollar each. .0_o
The good news: once I hit my Pharmacare deductable, all medical supplies are completely covered/free. *sings "Oh Canada!" in gratitude*
The bad news: I did my first before/after meal blood sugar measurement. Before a meal of Shepherd's pie, perogies, sour cream, gravy, and Jello with whipped cream: 6.0. Two hours after said meal: 17.5. And 18.0 is considered extremely high blood sugar. That was the moment when it hit me: my body is now, in a way, my enemy. I have to live by the clock (meals every 4 hours, a total of 45-60 g of carbs per meal) and die by the meter. My world is irrevokably changed.
The good and bad news: 150 minutes of exercise per week, half cardio, half resistance, gradually increasing to 240 minutes per week. Son of a BITCH! I'll be healthier. But man, is that a pain in the ass.
Welcome to Diabetesville. Population: myself. And there are no roads, planes, or ATVs to get me the hell out of here.
Then, last night -- By My Uterus Betrayed! Part... oh, man, I've lost count. The wretched thing went on a merry projectile bleeding spree last night, then bled straight through one pad and all over the mattress. I awoke smeared in my own blood. NRG! (On the other hand, George at least was philosophical about it, unlike the husband of a friend of mine who still hasn't gotten used to the fact that women have their monthly courses and the spilling of blood is involved. What did Mister Garrison say on South Park? "Never trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn't die...")
Yesterday: the diabetic clinic at Health Sciences Center here in Winnipeg.
The good news: the blood glucose meter (a One Touch Ultra, and boy, was I surprised at how small it is) is free. Pricking the fingers isn't that bad -- they have a spring-loaded pen that automatically does it for you.
The bad news: the cost of supplies. Each test strip for the meter (usable only once) is 80 cents to $1 in cost. The needles also run about a dollar each. .0_o
The good news: once I hit my Pharmacare deductable, all medical supplies are completely covered/free. *sings "Oh Canada!" in gratitude*
The bad news: I did my first before/after meal blood sugar measurement. Before a meal of Shepherd's pie, perogies, sour cream, gravy, and Jello with whipped cream: 6.0. Two hours after said meal: 17.5. And 18.0 is considered extremely high blood sugar. That was the moment when it hit me: my body is now, in a way, my enemy. I have to live by the clock (meals every 4 hours, a total of 45-60 g of carbs per meal) and die by the meter. My world is irrevokably changed.
The good and bad news: 150 minutes of exercise per week, half cardio, half resistance, gradually increasing to 240 minutes per week. Son of a BITCH! I'll be healthier. But man, is that a pain in the ass.
Welcome to Diabetesville. Population: myself. And there are no roads, planes, or ATVs to get me the hell out of here.
Then, last night -- By My Uterus Betrayed! Part... oh, man, I've lost count. The wretched thing went on a merry projectile bleeding spree last night, then bled straight through one pad and all over the mattress. I awoke smeared in my own blood. NRG! (On the other hand, George at least was philosophical about it, unlike the husband of a friend of mine who still hasn't gotten used to the fact that women have their monthly courses and the spilling of blood is involved. What did Mister Garrison say on South Park? "Never trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn't die...")
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As for Diabetesville - there are lots of people there with you! Scary as that is... My gramma has it, Northlight... lots and lots of people live there, you might not know them, but you are so not alone there... *HUGS*
It's evil for diet change, but it's probably healthier for your diet in the end... if it keeps you healthy it is a good thing *super hugs* Talk soon!