I Love Pricks!

Pricks are underrated. We shouldn't fear pricks. We need pricks. I love pricks. I can't get enough of a good prick. I have prick four to six times a day and I will tell you, it's great.

You know why? When I get a prick, I then know what's going on in my body and what I need to do next.

Wait. You thought I was talking about...? No. I'm talking about THIS kind of prick (but please stay with me because if I was me reading this two months ago, I'd be hitting the back button and I don't want you to do that!):

Still with me? Good!

I'm going to be blunt about this. If you are overweight, if you find yourself going to the bathroom more or getting very thirsty or feeling logy or like you want to eat everything in the house, you may be diabetic or at risk of developing diabetes. The biggest mistake people make is thinking if they just don't know for sure, it will go away. The awful truth is you could lose your eyes, your limbs and what quality of life you have enjoyed if you don't start taking better care of yourself.

So here's the thing. It's not like I love being a diabetic. I do, however, love my life and know that things are better when I feel better. A lot of people might not even realise that they could be feeling better if they knew what was going on with their friend, Mr. or Ms. Pancreas (my pancreas is a lovey girl pancreas I have named Beatrix).

Because of this, I am declaring July and beyond as one big Prick Party! That's right. I am getting my meter, a box of bandaids, extra lances, alcohol wipes and taking them with me everywhere I go. If you see me and want a prick, just ask.

This isn't about posting your BGI. No one has to know that but you. However, I am going to be either drawing cool stuff on your bandaid and taking a picture of it (if that's okay) or if you want you can draw or write something on your bandaid and I will take a pic and post it (or not). What I'd really like is for people to do this everywhere and send the pictures to me (at prickparty@yahoo.com) to post here.* I want everyone to proudly declare that they love prick and they want the world to know! That's right. I want everyone to love prick.

Pricks. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.

Let me rephrase that.

Pricks. Somtimes it's hard to live with the thought of them, but it's also a given that for many of us, they're necessary to stay healthy.




*Just a quick preemptive note here: I DO NOT want pictures of genitalia or simulacra of genitalia. Those will be forwarded to law enforcement. Thanks!


copyright 2011 jas faulkner

You're Still Here? Funny. So Am I!

The other day something happened that has been occurring more frequently as my weight drops. Let me preface this by saying that I live in a suburb of Nashville that isn't exactly small, but it is tight enough that most people around here know each other by sight if not by name. It's the kind of place where someone might approach you if they recognize you to ask what the heck that jicama in your cart is and what you plan to do with it.

So I'm in the store and I notice someone doing that not so subtle checking out what's in my cart thing. People who are really big know what I'm talking about. There's a train wreck kind of attraction to seeing what an obese person has in their grocery cart. Sometimes I forget that I've gone from scary big to just thick like everyone else and think that people are still gaping to see what I'm buying. The irony is that being smaller means that I'm braver. I made eye contact and said hi.

I figured that she'd stammer or just walk away. After all, if I become a person to her instead of an oddity, she can't feel comfortable about behaving badly. To my surprise, she came over and mentioned that she's seen me around and noticed that I'd lost a lot of weight. She asked me how much. I told her and then she asked me what I was using. This sort of conversation is still frustrating to me no matter how many times I have it because people can't or don't want to accept that I lost the weight by eating better and exercising. To them, weight loss in the triple digits can't happen without something that has been bought and sold and formulated into a plan. Sadly, I know people who are losing weight and have said they plan to write a book or create some sort of product to sell to others. Why not just help other people get healthy?

I see this all the time when it comes to weight loss and in the past few months as a diagnosed type 2 diabetic, I have seen that big pharma and the health care industry tend to work in the interest of maintenance, but only up to a point. One of the first concepts I encountered when trying to learn to take care of myself was the idea that this is a disease where the individual really does have a lot of control over how things go. That's great. But why not take it a step further and make things like daily testing, prevention and other aspects of our lives something that is accessible without the need to hunt through tons of useless and often contradictory information or fight off people who are more interested in the money they can make than the good they can do?

Having written all of that, I now wonder what my purpose is in creating this blog. Do I want to just tell my story? Is it a help to anyone? I really don't know. Maybe just telling it is enough. Maybe there is someone else out there who will read this and have what Oprah via my friend Jeannie would call an "ah-ha" moment.

So here goes:

I'm not an expert. I can't heal you. What I can do is tell you what I'm going through and give you what tools I've created that have worked for me. Here's the first one:



Monday
Water 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Miles 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Tuesday
Water 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Miles 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Wednesday
Water 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Miles 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Thursday
Water 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Miles 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Friday
Water 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Miles 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Saturday
Water 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Miles 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Sunday
Water 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Miles 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0


This is a chart I made to use to keep up with my water intake and exercise each day. Of course I don't walk or run 18 miles a day or drink 18 bottles of water! It just happened to be how many circles I could fit on the page. So use it in improving health and let me know if you have any questions.

Peace,
jas

Where's My "I Survived The Holidays 2009" T-Shirt?!?

Janunary 2, 2009

It's lucky that I'm alone right now. No, I'm not mad at anyone nor is there any reason for me to be angsty because overall life is treating me well. But...but... I'm hungry and I'm getting "back on the carb and sugar wagon" after pushing my luck micro-sampling the holiday treats from the Harry and David tower my brother sent and for no good reason today I would kill for a grilled cheese.

Will I have one? No. I have been very lucky in that my BGI has not gotten out of the normal range since I brought it down. None of the 71 pounds I have lost have made a reappearance. Hooray for that.



January 4, 2009

Okay, its a couple of days later and I'm feeling better. Sorry for making this latest entry so diary-like. The holidays were not nearly as hard for me as they were some of the people in my DM support group. I'm also blessed with friends and family who are extremely and sometimes almost preternaturally supportive. This makes a huge difference and I am only too aware of how very lucky I am to have these people in my life.

As of last night, I'd lost 72 pounds. Sometimes its easy to forget how losing that much weight can change the way a person looks. There are quite a few people I see on a regular basis who recognize me but probably don't know my name. Over the past few months, especially after I passed the fifty pound mark of loss, someone would compliment me and then ask how I did it. This is where it gets a little hard because in real life I am an extremely private person but I also want people to be more aware of diabetes in particular and the living a better life in general, so I bite the bullet and talk.

How did I do it? Diet and exercise.

Then there's almost always the pause and the incredulous look, followed by, "Well, yeah, but how...?"

"Diet and exercise."

"But..."

"Diet and exercise."

I usually go on and explain that as a diabetic, I can't eat anything starchy or sugary. Rice, bread, pasta and anything high in carbs and/or naturally occurring sugar are not in my diet anymore. I tell them about dusting off the treadmill and rediscovering my love of hockey and football (soccer) and football (football) and lacrosse and movies so that my walks are accompanied by images and stories that inspire me.

That is almost always followed by another "Well yeah, but..."

So I ask them what they are asking me. Then it comes out that they were hoping it was either some new medical miracle or at the very least a magical solution that will work without sacrifice or effort. At that point, I smile, tell them it's just one of those things where you have to decide you're ready and then move forward and that I'll be happy to answer questions and help if they ever want me to.

There is no shortcut. There is no magic bullet. People who do this have either reached a place emotionally where they are willing to change for it's own sake or like me, they have reached an end point where their body will take no more and they either change or sicken and die. To a certain extent vanity could play a part, but this is really more about falling in love with being in your own skin and loving being alive. It's about loving the workouts and loving the change. It sounds like a simplification but some of the simplest things can be the hardest to manifest.


copyright 2009 jas faulkner

Okay, where was I?

Sometime in October I started writing about getting sick, getting diagnosed with a scary level of hypertension and diabetes, how I got sick and suicidal from the side effects of one on the meds I was on and intended to chronicle what I was doing about all of that.

That was October 15th. It's now December 16th and I have a lot of catching up to do.


Part something: "Shut up, bitch! No, not you. I was talking to my blood glucose meter!"

The ADA books refer "striving for excellence" when it comes to testing your blood glucose levels and that sounded pretty reasonable, but I got to the point that any escalation in my FBS (fasting blood sugar) left me devastated. One morning following a road trip where my sugar dipped and I had to break out my 1/3 cup of granola because we were in the middle of nowhere and hours past my lunchtime, my sugar went up to 139 after being in the 110s for about a week. My blood pressure was 159 over 74. You would have thought Nashville was losing it's NHL team, I was so teary.


Oh, and let's not forget the night I lost a staredown contest with a vegetable...

I got to the point that I felt like any and all food was dangerous. One night I could not bring myself to eat a wedge of steamed cabbage because I was terrified it would raise my BG. My thoughts never got too far from "This is going to kill me slowly and horribly by closing off my arteries, taking my sight, my limbs and my renal function and there's not a thing I can do about it." That's right, people, at some point in my life, I was actually paralyzed with fear because, you know, napa cabbage kills.


My friends and family were and are really fabulous.

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you are in a situation and feel the need to talk, shout or say something and you can't speak? That is kind of how I had been feeling all Fall. Friends and family kept in touch, let me know they care and it has meant a lot. The bad part was that I was very shut off because I felt like I was truly going crazy and unlike good chocolate or stories about bad ex-boyfriends and idiotic college administrators, some things just aren't meant to be shared.


So what did I do?

Stay tuned.


copyright 2008 jas faulkner

Off With A Bang Or A Honk Or Something...

I feel like a creep starting a blog and pecking away like I don't have an inbox at GMail that's looking mighty populated and a message file at Facebook that's getting pretty chubby. If I owe you email, snail mail, a phone call, compost or a blood sample, please be patient. I've spent the last few weeks getting my sea-legs, no, make that D-legs so that things can get back to normal.

Here's the short version: I had been feeling really cruddy for six months and reached the point where my main occupation when not working was sleeping. I finally went to the doctor. I have hypertension and diabetes.

Here's the digest (and yet still longish) edition for those of you who don't read my main blog, "Confessions of a Cheese Grits Fiend": It started with an abscessed tooth. I went to the dentist who agreed that it needed to come out. After taking my blood pressure, he told me he couldn't touch my mouth again until I'd gotten it under control. Repeated readings on his and a borrowed BP cuff showed that it was 191 over 74. Scary.

I made an appointment to see my GP who rightfully tsk-tsked the lack of attention I had been giving my health care and ordered a blood workup during the next visit and recommended a 2D echocardiogram of my heart.

You know how you can get so used to things being a certain way that even if the situation is less than good, it's still familiar and you're used to it so it's okay? That's where I was. My weight was higher than it had ever been, when I wasn't working I was sleeping, I felt horrible. My emotional state had gotten as low as my physical state and writing and creating art was pretty close to impossible. The blood test she took during my second visit showed that my FBS (Fasting Blood Sugar for those of you playing at home) was 258. Before we even addressed the blood sugar issue, she scheduled another appointment and after that put me on a BP med to get it out of the scary range.

Medication ads always have a block of tiny print at the bottom while the VO actor quickly runs through the risks and side-effects. Pay attention to those. I knew my med could cause dizziness and constipation, but it wasn't until I did some homework that I found out it could also cause a severe depressive reaction in some people.* The day before my birthday, I took my BP med and spent the rest of that Friday cold and nauseated. My BP, probably my blood sugar and everything else just dropped. I felt like I was alternately being dipped in ice water and a hot tub. By that evening, I just wanted to not ever have to deal with life and the thought of erasing any trace of myself online and in my immediate local life popped into my head the way walking the dog or doing the laundry or any other chore would have occurred to me if I wasn't sick. I deleted logins, said goodbye to the world on my blog and contemplated piling up every piece of art I'd made and burning it. The next day, I felt better and very stupid. I have never been intoxicated, but I have friends who, during that state have confessed their undying love to people, thrown up in public and danced shirtless at too-public parts of Memphis State University's campus at wee hours of the am. The next day they always looked like they were contemplating a transfer to Ole Miss or UT or the closest monastic religious community. That was kind of how I felt the next day.

So Doctor W. put me on another BP med, took another blood sample and then determined that I was a diabetic. My FBS was 230. Still too high. We sat down for The Talk and she loaded me up with pamphlets, a folder full of information about "taking control" from Bayer, a meter and a box of test strips. The Talk consisted of things like not wearing constrictive clothing, being careful of extremes in temperature due to nerve damage, how serious diabetes is and what my options were at that point. She mentioned surgery for weight loss. I told her I'd rather not do that unless she thought things were so bad there was no time for me to lose weight and possibly get things in control. She seemed relived and a little surprised.

"I think you can do it," she said, "but a lot of people talk about losing weight, eating right and doing what they should but then they never actually follow through. Let's see how things go."

So that's where I was on October 15th.

Coming up next: Shut Up Bitch! No, Not You, I'm Talking To My BG Meter!




*I'm not going to name the med because 1.) I don't want to get sued and 2.) having looked at fora for people with hypertension, I've noticed that many are resistant to taking their meds, losing weight and doing what they're supposed to do. If this med could save someone else's life, I don't want to give them a reason not to take it.


copyright 2008 jas faulkner