touchett
Active Member
- Messages
- 28
- Type of diabetes
- Treatment type
- Tablets (oral)
I was diagnosed with type II diabetes on January 27, 2014--something I had been trying to stave off these last few years with regular walks, and expunging things like white rice, bread, and pasta from my diet. Still, heredity did out. My GP has all the bedside manner of an espresso maker, i.e. none at all, and didn't really give me much in the way of guidance, except to write a prescription for Metformin, and to tell me that diabetics are at risk for amputations, blindness, and infertility.
I was tested again on February 6 by another doctor, with an HbA1c of 7.7, and a resting blood glucose of 7.0mmol--not ideal numbers.
The internet, for for all its plethora of information doesn't really fill me with hope. I am terrified by the contradictory information I am reading online. Some websites say I can drink milk and eat dairy products, others advise against it. The recommended carbohydrate servings provided by the Canadian and American Diabetes Association seem to be contradict the everyday experiences of Type 1 and 2 diabetics, who consume significantly less carbohydrates. There are conspiracy theories that the Canadian and American Diabetes Association work for pharmaceutical companies, forming a cadre that have no interest in curing diabetes. Obviously, all of this contradictory information scares and confuses me.
I read about diabetic socks, and never going barefoot. All I see are posts by people attempting to have the occasional Chinese take-away, pizza, sushi, or fish & chips, only to see horrible "spikes" and give up on the enterprise altogether. The more strident folks over at tudiabetes militantly shout down any notions of eating a waffle or tempura, or enjoying a gelato in Rome--a disaster they admonish. I happen to enjoy cooking, but have been living on slivers of chicken breast and lettuce for a week, out of sheer terror. For me, food forms a cornerstone of life, not junk food, but occasional pleasures like savouring a steak frites before an opera, or enjoying popcorn at the cinema. I only just turned 31, and in a very visceral sense, it feels like I've already died. It's not been two weeks since my diagnosis, and I'm already tired of life.
I don't quite know what to despair about most: the fact that the pleasures of food are forever barred from me, that I must exercise slavishly, and eat the blandest of diets just to stay alive, or that every physician and nurse has told me it's a "progressive" disease, and that no matter what I do, I will deteriorate and need insulin.
I was tested again on February 6 by another doctor, with an HbA1c of 7.7, and a resting blood glucose of 7.0mmol--not ideal numbers.
The internet, for for all its plethora of information doesn't really fill me with hope. I am terrified by the contradictory information I am reading online. Some websites say I can drink milk and eat dairy products, others advise against it. The recommended carbohydrate servings provided by the Canadian and American Diabetes Association seem to be contradict the everyday experiences of Type 1 and 2 diabetics, who consume significantly less carbohydrates. There are conspiracy theories that the Canadian and American Diabetes Association work for pharmaceutical companies, forming a cadre that have no interest in curing diabetes. Obviously, all of this contradictory information scares and confuses me.
I read about diabetic socks, and never going barefoot. All I see are posts by people attempting to have the occasional Chinese take-away, pizza, sushi, or fish & chips, only to see horrible "spikes" and give up on the enterprise altogether. The more strident folks over at tudiabetes militantly shout down any notions of eating a waffle or tempura, or enjoying a gelato in Rome--a disaster they admonish. I happen to enjoy cooking, but have been living on slivers of chicken breast and lettuce for a week, out of sheer terror. For me, food forms a cornerstone of life, not junk food, but occasional pleasures like savouring a steak frites before an opera, or enjoying popcorn at the cinema. I only just turned 31, and in a very visceral sense, it feels like I've already died. It's not been two weeks since my diagnosis, and I'm already tired of life.
I don't quite know what to despair about most: the fact that the pleasures of food are forever barred from me, that I must exercise slavishly, and eat the blandest of diets just to stay alive, or that every physician and nurse has told me it's a "progressive" disease, and that no matter what I do, I will deteriorate and need insulin.
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