Tomorrow morning I shall be getting out of bed early. I'll be donning my crappy jeans, a pullover and my shoes and socks in a resolute half-state of awareness. I'll scrape up my keys and my medical papers and drive to the hospital. I am due for my annual fasting blood test, no food or water to be consumed beforehand. Upon getting out of bed my ritual is to always mix a glass of sparkling mineral water with a teaspoon of wheatgrass powder and half-teaspoon of calcium ascorbate, with a dash of juice to level out the taste. I shan't be having my morning's burst of invigoration until I'm arrived home after having needles pierced into me and four vials of blood taken. I'll be sour in mouth and mood. I won't be having a coffee at the hospital after my jabs as that will merely make me nauseous and give me a headache on a rushed, empty stomach. And I'll have to ask for the plastic jar in the clinic for providence of my yellow specimen.
The main indicators will be my blood glucose fasting score, kidney function, and my HbA1c. I'm expecting my HbA1c to be at the top end of the 'normal' range. At one point, 4 years ago, I had it down to a miraculous figure of 5.0 (normal is 4.0-6.0). I say "miraculous" because in 2002 when my diagnosis came through my score was something quite obscene, like 14. That this frightful condition didn't send me into an everlasting coma, or that my kidneys and nerves and blood vessels did not simultaneously explode, instead remaining healthily intact, I have very much to be thankful for. And that my body and health are performing optimally I grant to the power of love, grace, providence, and kick-arse southern-Italian determination and 'testa dura'!
I rarely bother testing my glucose levels anymore, that unpleasant constant interlude of taking out the little machine and jabbing your finger with a little pistol and drawing blood, smearing that on a disposable measuring swipe, and waiting for some LED numerical figure to finally crystalise that will either make or break your day. I know what to do, what needs to be done. Diet & exercise are the key contributors to normalising blood glucose levels. Lack of stress, too. That, and a plethora of supplements. Supplements and herbal remedies that have literally saved me from pharmecuetical slavery. These babies have improved my well-being and general health no-end, Coenzyme Q10, Olive Leaf extract, Gymnema, Pau-D'arco, Bitter Melon, Chromium, Magnesium, St Marys Thistle etc. Coming to the cliff of alarmingly dangerous blood sugar levels has resulted in a set of circumstances that have improved my life and well-being no-end. I am fit, healthy, and happy, and it shows on my face.
I shouldn't really be speaking too soon however. I have an appointment with the D-clinic next Wednesday morning. I'm hoping it's quick and easy and I can just get the hell out of there. If the score is too high then they'll want me to see the doctor. But I won't. I'll remedy myself, and if I need help I'll visit a naturopath again. It was a naturopath that put me onto the aforementioned substances that have cured me. Pharmecuetical medication is not about to do any long-term cures for me. The pharmecuets whip certain parts of your body into forced action causing mid-term depletion, they are not holistic.
...but, initially, those pharmecueticals saved my life, and I acknowledge that, and remain grateful to them.
Crabs, the central character in Peter Carey's classic short story of the same name, has the perfect edict on how to live one's life with this condition. To be free one must be a car or motor vehicle in good health. This is something I live by 24/7. It's the only way to be free, or free-er, of the sugar problem.
Sugar sugar lend me your velvet touch
lacerate me with your scalpel