Admitting Defeat

Most of you know I suffer from Type II diabetes. I was diagnosed a little over 3 years ago, just months after my sister was diagnosed and a few years after my dad. I have primarily controlled it with diet and exercise, but last fall I fell off the wagon, so to speak. The emotional stresses I was under, paired with the time consuming nature of some of those stresses, really set me back. I think I consciously exercised three times in three months. I stopped testing, because honestly I didn't want to know, believing I would get back to task "soon". Bad move, but most other Type II diabetics will likely understand.

After the new year I was back to the plan, returning to my exercise routine. In late January my mom was diagnosed with heart failure, and I vowed I would do something about my heart's condiditon now. At the end of February I was unceremoniously elected captain of our relay team, and decided it was time to get serious...really serious...to be a good example and to take the bull by the horns. So I did, more dedicated than ever, not only to controlling the diabetes but to shed (hopefully) 30 lbs in the process. I have eliminated artificial ingredients from my diet, especially targeting artificial sweeteners, cutting back my diet coke consumption dramatically (my only remaining vice). I adopted salad as at least one meal per day, and no, not swimming in dressing. I consume primarily real food, often raw, and have opted to only buy packaged food (for myself) if I recognize the name of all the ingredients as actually being food. I have rescued my family from many of these things, and from HFCS entirely (with the exception of a few things we already had in the house -- did you know that the FIRST ingredient in some name-brand applesauce is high fructose corn syrup? I didn't). Along with all that, I'm counting calories, fat, protein, carbs, and fiber, and managing things pretty tightly now. I know how to do this, it's not rocket science; if you do A, B and C, the results will generally be D. I've been to enough Weight Watchers meetings in my life to know this.

Alongside this, as some of you know, I took on training as my pastime --racewalking, to be precise. Most weeks I'm sweating for 12-15 hours, sometimes twice per day, pushing myself hard, and in ways I never have before. I have to say I'm in the best condition of my life (though I won't say I have ever been an athlete). My heart is far healthier, I can do more cardio, longer than ever before.

However...10 weeks of this has led to almost total discouragement. I haven't dropped a single pound, I haven't shrunk a single inch, and my blood glucose is very nearly more out of control than ever before -- and I have had no trouble controlling it in the past with 1/4 the amount of exercise I'm doing now. Go figure. I do know from prior experience, and from doing my homework, that these things can take time to regulate after a drastic change, especially in a diabetic who has been less-than-disciplined for a period of time. So I have been patient, biding my time; but I have never known this to continue in this way, with a seemingly complete lack of success in every area, for so long. I've cried a lot, I'll admit.

I have been reluctant to go to the Doctor, because, quite frankly, perfectionist that I am, it is terrifying to admit defeat. I like things to be logical, especially scientific things like this. When it's not, it means something is beyond my control, and I don't know what that something is. Having worked hard to be honest and do the right thing, and having my husband as my witness, I'm totally baffled. For a month I have believed if I just pushed through it, eventually all my effort would catch up with me, and so it seemed stupid to waste money on the Doctor. But I'm at the breaking point; something's gotta give.

So here I am...starting a 12 hour fast so I can have a complete work-up done in the morning. I'll go back next week for the results, which I'm sure will not surprise me, but hopefully the Doc will have some idea what to do about all of it. Thyroid would seem the obvious culprit, however, I had it checked two years ago and all was normal. It would stand to reason, seeing as how such a high percentage of women with diabetes will see thyroid failure at some point. It would cover both my stagnant weight and my uncontrolled sugar, both of which are clearly not caused by something external at this point. What I fear the most, though, is being told there isn't any medical reason why this has happened, because I can do little more than I already have. I can't comprehend how this will work if they can't identify a cause or present a solution.

In the big picture, I realize it's not that significant. A good friend of mine is losing her hair in the throes of chemotherapy for breast cancer. But we all know that while a broad perspective is noble, a narrow one is reality.

There's something primitive and spiritual in all this...the willingness to know what we cannot control and willingness to believe that the things we cannot control, we will be given strength to endure. It's hard to give anything to God, especially when we think there is something we are supposed to do about it. Sometimes we just have to rest in it, without knowing what comes next.