Memoirs of a Soon-to-Be Former Fat Guy

Hi everybody!

I wasn’t sure I would be able to get something posted today. However, doing dinner prep ahead of time allowed me a few extra minutes after the move.

Ah, the move. First of all, let me just say that when I’m involved in a move, it is usually the hottest day of the year. The move could be on February 10, in Alaska, and it would suddenly shoot up to about 90 degrees. Today was different in that the temperatures were at least bearable.  Granted, the rain kind of sucked, but we certainly needed it.

We all met at our friend’s storage unit, which is located way out in the middle of nowhere. Next to a cow pasture. I kid you not. It was hard not to watch the little calves be frisky and focus on heavy objects. Granted there wasn’t a lot of really heavy objects, but stuff still needed to be moved. We loaded up the caravan of cars and went to the new place, unloaded and left the unpacking to the professionals.

So, a lot of times, rainy weather like today makes me a little introspective. I’m going to impart something that I never told anybody up until today.  You see, when I was diagnosed as a diabetic several years ago, it came as a shock. I knew I wasn’t feeling good. I was lethargic, sleep apnea, the whole ball of wax. Basically, I was overwhelming my pancreas with too much sugar. As a result, the pancreas just kind of said, “The hell with this” and walked off the job.

I had read up on the disease and what I could expect if it were to go unchecked. The loss of limbs, the blindness, basically, fates worse than death. So, I really didn’t care if I lived or died. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was suicidal, but I certainly didn’t give a damn.

Looking back, that was incredibly selfish of me to think that way. While I might not have cared, there are others who did and it wouldn’t be fair to them. That carried over into my work. I just didn’t care. I wondered why I should care about anything, after all, since I was just going to die a very unpleasant death and probably soon. I was having trouble feeling my feet, I still felt crappy and I had to inject myself twice a day in the gut.

One day the light just came on. I realized I wasn’t dead yet. That’s when I started this blog. Part of the reason for my awakening was a visit to the eye doctor. He was looking at my retinas, and last year I had a small hemorrhage in my right eye. This year he said it was still there but it seemed that my body was starting to reabsorb the bleeding. That got me thinking that maybe life is a good thing and I should stop treating my body like a tent. I’m not at the temple status, but I’m treating it like a slightly used 3 bedroom split-level with semi-detached garage. It’s an improvement. Improvements are a good thing.

Have a great rest of your weekend, everyone. We are headed to Reading tomorrow for a family gathering. If you travel, be safe.

Last night’s weight: 297.7 (the Muenster cheese is well and truly vanquished)