The past few weeks I have been involved in a few “challenges” of one type or another, to slowly reveal bits and pieces of who I am. It’s no secret I do not like most humans. I have no patience for stupid humans. I admire talent. Intelligence. Beauty. Passion. Honesty. I Hate: Politicians Dumbasses Racist/Racism Oppressors Misogynists/Misandrist. Misandry is the females equivalent of Misogyny. …for those who didn’t know.
If you’ve missed these reveals about me and have some spare time on your hands, while waiting in your doctors office, waiting on your car to be serviced, waiting on your hair/nail appointment or just fuckin bored to death…..
Now that I look at ALL the tags/get to knows and what not that reveal bits and pieces of me, maybe this post is unnecessary……but this post is about something entirely different about me, other than my 18 years of guilt over being responsible for the neglect that led to my wife and son dying in a car accident.
This post is about me dealing with Diabetes since 2008.
I was diagnosed in 2008 with type 2 diabetes. Now before you ask, no. There was and is no evidence of diabetes in my family history going back to 1674. I am the first in my line.
I believe that living a life that does not touch another human being, in a positive way, is a waste of life and living. Going from day to day with nothing you do touching another human life, benefiting no one else….means you’ve spent that day doing jack shit. Never walk around or step over that homeless man/woman/child begging for food, money or attention you pass by daily. DO SOMETHING.
This is my final DO SOMETHING.
I was a chef for 26 years, old news. But I got around where I was working, the city/towns, by walking. I loved working all over the planet in kitchens vastly different from my last gig. I worked in one spot for a year, maybe 15 months till the itch to move hit me. Being as good a chef as I was, getting hired was just a formality for a new place/hire/job. I cooked more to travel than traveled to cook.
Walking new locations to learn that new place of employment was my mode of travel. Thats how I discovered my diabetes. I went to Cedar Rapids, of all places to end up, to work in an old established steak house. I’d avoided this gig for 3 years. Thats how long the owners had been after me to cook over priced, too done steaks for their overly wealthy customers. So, in 2008, March, I arrived in CR and started my adventure at the Chop House. Yes. Steaks AND chops. I worked there 3 months until THE FLOOD of 2008 hit. That freak of Mother Nature destroyed the entire downtown district as well as many other neighborhoods in Cedar Rapids. Did I mention my Chop House was RIGHT on the river that overflowed it’s banks? That river view while digesting a steak, was the death of that restaurant, as well as other places of business in Cedar Rapids that summer.
Including the Chop House……MY employer.
I stayed put until the water receded and movement was OK’d by the city government. On one of my walks I got a blister and that blister never healed. My first clue something was very wrong was my leg/thigh swelling to the size of a baby tree trunk.
ER trip for the swollen leg/thigh ended me up in The University Of Iowa hospital for 3 weeks, with talk among doctors of amputation on a toe to stop the spread of dead tissue. That ended up being a premature idea since my recuperative powers saved me from that surgery, that and tons of antibiotics and damn good doctors and nurses….oh…the nurses were so damn sexy.
I was released with a PIC line and a ton of IV bags of solutions to make me whole again, and 3 tons of instructions what I MUST do, and MUST NOT do. For the rest of my life.
Me, being, Me…….I did not do what I MUST DO, and a few years later I eventually lost two toes to diabetic amputations, over a 4 year period of time. All MY own doing by being hardheaded, stubborn, ornery and a dumbass.
Two amputations of two toes was enough for me, YES I know that was two amputations too many for a man who considered himself smart. The thing is I HATE doctors and hospitals and following instructions from humans who believe themselves to be GOD. If you want me to do something, fuckin explain what, why and how doing what you ask will help ME. Explain to me the whys and wherefores of what you ask, doctor or not. I found doctors expected their patients to be stupid tools that follow demands and ask not a single question.
IF you know me, you realize that ain’t even close to being Moi.
So docs and I butt heads. A LOT. Until this day. I need answers why a medication is necessary and what that medication does to my body as a side effect.
Do not expect me to take a drug because you say so, because you have paper hanging on your wall, because you have a kick back from a pharma company coming and you need to pay your golf club membership. I ain’t interested in putting your 5 kids thru college or paying your 6 ex-wives their palimony. Seeing a doctor every 3 months, fuck that.
I’ve reached a happy medium, between doing what is asked of me, doing what is actually needed of me and doing what my common sense tells me, and using the internet helps. Much about diabetes and living with diabetes is online, as well as ways to actually reverse diabetes.
My advice to anyone and everyone with diabetes is do not ignore it, like I did, and lose toes, or feet, or limbs. To any/everyone who might have diabetes, get tested, and then do what is needed to get healthy, stay healthy and live a normal life, with diabetes. DO NOT IGNORE YOUR SYMPTOMS LIKE I DID.
I am 58, I swim 90 minutes daily, weigh 239 pounds on my 6’5″ frame. I am not overweight and never have been. I don’t like nor eat many sweets. My family history contains no mention of diabetes. YET, I have diabetes. There is no road map for who will get this disease or why you will get diabetes. BUT GET IT YOU COULD.
As Forrest would say…..
One can only provide information and some sage advice but the honest truth is a human must decide if life is worth the sacrifice needed to continue living. I will give up some things to live but the question for me is simple. Is a life with NO joy worth living just to exist. I have no loved ones to consider, no close friends I care enough about to have on my mind when the time comes that I am sick of living a “half” life. It’s always a choice of quality of life over life length. I took care of both my grandparents who lived to the stage of life of being incapacitated. Bedridden. Thats not for me.