I’ve been crying a lot these last couple of days. I cried to my best friend. I cried to my brother. And this morning I spent three hours crying to myself. (I tried to cease my sniffling and sobbing long enough to tell people about the weather, and who sings “Simply Irresistable” and the like.)
Believe me, I’m not much of a crier. I think the last time i cried to this semi-hysterical degree was in 2015 when I came to the grim realization that my mother was dying.
The grim realization I face this time is that I might be diabetic. I’ll pause while you all pretend to be shocked. Yes, I’ve spent most of my 53 years eating the wrong things. But in the last couple of years I have made sincere efforts to curb my sugar consumption. I have not always succeeded. A week at Disneyland probably didn’t help. But even there I thought I was fairly conservative.
The things that made me call the doctor were two blisters, one on the left foot, one on the right. (Both were on the same toe. Hooray for symmetry!) It’s fairly normal to get blisters when you walk all over the place for four days. But I didn’t think it seemed normal that those blisters showed no sign of healing a full week after returning from Disneyland. It just didn’t seem right, you know? My Spider-sense was tingling, or whatever you choose.
I went to the doctor, who suggested we add A1C to my next monthly blood draw. That’s the one that keeps an eye on my championship kidneys.
On October 1, I get the blood draw. And then we find out. Is it pre-diabetes or “Wilfred Brimley is standing by my bed” diabetes? I wish I could get the blood draw right this second. I’m not good at waiting. It’s funny…the doctor’s appointment was on Tuesday and I got through that day fairly well. It wasn’t until this morning that I joined the Rosey Grier fan club.
Anyway, things got better as today wore on. It helped that I had work to do. Also, I chose a good day to cry at work because very few people were at the office today.
This evening I sent a brief message to my brother Jeremy, who is diabetic. He called me right away and made me feel a whole lot better. (After listening to me cry for a few seconds.) He reminded me of the many Wentworths in our family who are diabetic. He told me what his journey has been and gave me some good advice.
I’ve said it before and I can’t say it enough: I am the oldest of the Wentworth children but not the wisest. That title is co-owned by Jeremy and Johanna.
I’m still very nervous about this, because my default setting is nervous. I have completely functioning kidneys bur diabetes can derail them. I have the capability to eat better but can I handle all of the medication and rigamarole that goes with being diabetic? I have no idea.
A friend of mine has been telling me over and over that I won’t have diabetes. But I have a feeling. I think I’ve ducked it longer than I had the right to. But I think this is it. If it isn’t it, you can all make fun of me for crying. I might even join in on it.