13,188 Days Alive
705 Days in a Row on Duolingo
289 Pounds
16 Pounds Lost
11.8 A1C
Oh, boy did today suck-a-palooza. My diabetes is no longer under control and likely hasn’t been since I ran out of insulin in February.
Between the cost, my former health insurance company being jackasses and saying I didn’t need insulin, and my own self-destructive/suicidal ways, I just didn’t fight for my insulin. And now I’m doing poorly health-wise.
I came home from the doctor and cried. I’m up thirty pounds from last year but down fifteen pounds from three months ago. So. Mixed bag.
I also bled all over the doctor’s office. The poor nurse pricked my finger for the A1C test and didn’t bandage it properly. I had to call attention to the handful of blood drops all over the floor and my still-bleeding hand. It took almost five minutes and many cotton balls for it to stop bleeding. And then when I went to do my labs? They had to butterfly needle my hand because the tech couldn’t find a vein in my arm.
The whole dietary change this is going to be difficult for me, even with the support that I have.
I have such a complicated relationship with food. So much so that my predictive text knew that was what I was going to write.
I used a fitness tracker before, My Fitness Pal. I’m going to use it, Plan to Eat, and Yes Fit to help me get back on track.
I have set some small goals so far:
- Eat at least three meals a day
- Eat at least one snack
- Drink at least 100 ounces of water
- Maintain or reach a slight deficit in my daily calorie goal of 1,990 as set by My Fitness Pal
- Keep within my macros as best I can
- Go for a walk three times a week with Fen or use the treadmill in the apartment complex gym at least once a week (when we find out how to get in there)
- Find some more body-gentle exercises that don’t leave me crying in agony afterwards
That’s the self list. My chore list is longer and needs to be done by Saturday night or Sunday morning.
In happier news, I see Chelé tomorrow and Reffie on Sunday. I’m so excited about Sunday. I even told my grandmother on our weekly call about it.
Anyway, I have a headache. I’m going to bed.
Take your meds, folks.
Postmark Wonderland 