Firstly, my apologies for the lack of blogs on this site over the last few months.
The reason is that I have set up another blog and that, together with keeping up with a new blogging community, has taken up my normal blogging time.
I hate to jump ship but I feel more free to say what's on my mind on the other site, rather than on this one where some people may feel offended (or embarressed) because some of what I blog may not be in line with "Christian teaching" - and I don't want any comments about what I should (or shouldn't) be doing with whom. Not that all I blog about is on those lines, it's just that I wanted the freedom to say what I really felt about life, the universe and everything,
I also find coding, uploading, and browing easier there than here, probably because I'm lousy at it.
Feel free to drop by and visit sometime.
My thanks to Fave and Chris far all their hard work on this site. I will pop back and read what people are up to - so don't stop blogging folks :)
Went to see my doctor this morning for the official verdict on my results and he's very happy with my results. Even my cholesterol is normal!!!
I'd also managed to lose 1 1/2 kg since I last saw him which means that I'm slowly losing pounds as well as inches and it's a sustainable reduction.
I guess special thanks must go to E & A at the gym. E persuaded me to join and always greets me with a smile and lots of encouragement. A did my induction and follow-up and always comes over for a chat when he sees me. He's also been checking what is best for diabetes & asthma so I've a plan that's easy to do when my body is unwilling, and which I can crank up a notch when I have the energy.
I've still a long way to go....
And I did get told off for not using my steroid inhaler when I'm feeling well.
I have come to the belief that the the difference between men and women is genetic.
This gene contains the ability to understand the workings office equipment, lack of which renders the subject incapable of any movement other than staring into space. The subject is unable to decipher symbols indicting faults, and simple instructions are rendered unintelligible.
The subject suffering from the missing gene will appear to the untrained eye as an investigative character, with the ability to press buttons and pull levers. This is a camouflage mechanism which has evolved over the years which allows the sufferer to appear normal and assimilate them into the office environment. The sufferer is rendered speechless and is therefore unable to request assistance. They can only cope with their genetic deficit by walking away and denial.
This genetic abnormality is not specific to the male of the species, but predominates in that gender. This trait is most commonly found in salesmen; accountants and management.
Do not subject the sufferer to abuse or disparaging remarks, but treat gently and ease their discomfort by removing them from the environment.
Sufferers can be trained to overcome some of their genetically induced reactions but this takes time and patience on the part of their carers.
It is often easier to take control and do it yourself.
It's amazing just how quickly I've adapted to going to the gym!
So much so that I had another induction today and I'm now doing some "power" exercises rather than just cardio.
It means that my programme has increased from 30 mins to an hour, but there's a lot of variety and toys to play with (and on).
Mind you, my body is starting to ache atm as I also did an aqua aerobics class, and I did the whole new programme right through after the run through with the instructor - in effect doing some of the exercises twice.
It's still early days though - I wonder if I'll be as eager to go when it's raining and dark and cold of an evening?
My mother came to London today - only for a few hours as she "didn't want to be late getting back".
I didn't recognise her at the station. It wasn't the haircut, although it is now straight and short and has changed the shape of her face. It was how small she looked on the seat; how her clothes hung off her; how pale she was. I also noticed that she now walks with a stoop, bent over, hunched shoulders. She's also become forgetful, not of things but of words. Her mind is active and working but too fast for conversation without repetition or stumbling over phrases and names.
She is adamant that she is fit and well, and she probably is, it's just not MY mother.
MY mother was always round, well built. Though small in height she stood tall with the deportment learnt through years of dance training when young. She had colour in her cheeks and her hair was not grey but brown and wavy. She fitted her clothes, and filled them. Now they hang, and she claims they've got bigger.
She enjoyed the walk along the Thames, lunch at Southwark Cathedral, seeing dancers tangoing outside Tate Modern. But the day seemed heavy and slow.
She's grown old, and I can see the tiredness of her body and realise that although we've never seen eye to eye; that we've had our moments of hate; our time together is passing whilst we're busy making small talk over coffee.
The diagnosis was made at the end of June but today the thunderbolt hit.
I feel angry.
I am upset.
I hate my body.
I am exhausted.
I want to scream.
I am frightened.
I am hurt.
The realisation came when the dietician was explaining to me how having a healthy diet and being fit could mean I would no longer need Metformin (with all it's side effects such as explosive diarrhoea). Even so, despite all efforts, I would still remain a diabetic.
All I can do is control it before it controls me - before it gets to the next step which is insulin.
But in having to control diabetes I am having to accept that it does control me. It chains me into diets and exercise regimes and makes food the focus of each day.
I'm angry because I have fought all my life to be free to be me and yet even "me" binds me into a disease that allows me the opportunity to control it for a period of time - months, years, who knows? I have been on and off diets since I was 10 when a doctor was concerned about my weight. My mother has always nagged me about having a "tummy", and even now in my late 40s she says "you must do something about..." Even when I got my weight down to under 7st when I was 21 she went on about my shape.
I am upset because I have been secretly hoping that I could get things back to how they were before I was diagnosed. I may well have had diabetes for a number of years, but it's being told you have something that makes the difference. I want it to go away and it won't. It's the same with my asthma - lying dormant until suddenly I'm on a nebuliser in casualty because my inhalers aren't being effective or I've failed to take them because of the hope that whilst it isn't active I am rid of it.
I hate my body because I've been created as "apple" rather than "pear" shaped and my shape is more prone to diabetes. It's to do with waist size or something. It's something in my genes. I have always have a large waist.
I'm exhausted because I'm trying to fight back all the issues, to keep emotions under control and because the sugar in my blood makes me tired.
I want to scream, but who at apart from at myself?
I am frightened because this is taking me out of my comfort zone into a new, and yet another, arena in which I'm fighting. I left the dietician wanting to stuff my face with sweets, and a MacDonalds, and cake. To indulge in comfort eating which I can no longer afford to do.
I am hurt because just when I think I am free from pain; feeling emotionally stable; feeling strong; just when I'm enjoying the discovery of who I am, fate comes and knocks me for six.
I know I am a survivor, I know I am a fighter, I know there is light at the end of any tunnel, I know I have good friends who will listen and help me, and I know whatever I go through in life leave me a stronger person. Above all I have a faith in God, without which I would not have survived some of the things I have been through.
But right now...I want "me" back.
p.s To rub salt into the wound, we were rewarded with doughnuts at work this afternoon for passing the audit. Not ordinary doughnuts - but "Krispy Kreme". I didn't have one.
That was the question after my supervisor read my email about various doctor/hospital appointments booked & to be booked.
"Well", I answered, "I have ten fingers and ten toes; and two arms and two legs; and my liver and kidneys are working well; and my heart beats and my lungs breath...and my brain works."
"You never asked me whether it did..." says supervisor with a knowing look.
I had set the alarm to get me up in time for church but I fell back to sleep again.
So now it's lunchtime and I'm still in my nightwear pottering around the internet having just munched on marmite sandwiches washed down with a glass of milk.
I'm going to head for the gym this afternoon and I might treat myself to a dip in the spa afterwards.
In a way it may be a morning wasted but I was obviously tired - some of which could be due to having eaten too much sugar yesterday (the chocolate & beer cake was to die for!).
1. I've had the waistbands of 4 skirts taken in by 2 inches
2. Both the guy who enroled me at the gym and the instructor who did my induction both complimented me last Sunday on looking well.
3. I bought a purple, flowered, cord skirt for £2 at our church table fair today.
4. I also managed to sell some CDs and make £40 (OK I spent more than that on them originally but it's better than getting nothing for them).
5. I'm going to two quite different weddings in October, which means I can either buy one outfit "suits both" or splash out on two without feeling guilty.
A few gripes about life, the world and everything...
1. People who look the other way when an elderly lady asks for help getting off the bus. Morons.
2. People who shove past you to get on the bus when you are helping an elderly lady get off.
3. Girls who think it's good to get someone pissed because it's her hen night and she should be "enjoying" herself. I did take action when she turned green and almost puked up at the table - but I'm now seen as a party pooper by the main culprit.
4. The fact that the internet at the house has been down for almost a week.
5. Sarbanes - Oxley (look it up - it's too complicated to explain apart from to say it's American legislation)
Last Saturday I went and had my special treatment morning and it was wonderful.
I came away with legs waxed; eybrows shaped; eyelashes tinted; feet pedicured and toenails painted; pampered hands (although as I nibble my nails a manicure wasn't quite on but they still looked good); my body massaged (relaxation rather than envigorating). I came out fully rested - then went home and slept for 3 hours. I must have needed it.
Yesterday it was time to get my hair sorted. I'd had it done a couple of weeks ago and the blonde "darkened" but I hated it and ended up giving it a red rinse as it was too mousey brown for my liking - and I sure ain't no mouse.
So off to another hairdressers for a fresh look. Highlights and new chop. I feel great and it's easy to keep in style which is necessary as I'm now doing the gym stuff.
The date with the dietician is now confirmed and I'm heading there on the 14th. I'm dreading it cos I keep thinking that all my fave foods will be banned and I'll be left eating cardboard bread and lettuce leaves (ugh). Then again I could be pleasantly surprised...
Still I'm counting my blessing that it's all be found out in time to do something about it and delay the onset of insulin dependancy. I'm also glad that despite the problems of asthma, eczema; high blood pressure; under active thyroid and diabetes I'm mobile, have all my limbs intact, my senses work (some better than others) and I've no disfigurements. That's a great blessing!
As for the menopause...well it happens to every woman at some stage in her life. It's frustrating, but someone pointed out to me that the benefits come afterwards. Oh the joys of never having to use a tampon and not having to take the pill or any other precaution other than condoms to be safe. All I can say is that at the moment I have my personal climate!
Last week I realised that I was allowing the diabetes diagnosis to get the better of me - what with that and the split from the man it was no wonder I was depressed.
I've a few days off work so I decided that what I really needed was some pampering. I found that a local gym had a beauty therapy service so thought the ideal would be a full body massaage & facial & pedicure & whatever else I fancied.
I went to look round last week and ended up joining the gym - much to my surprise!
I've had the induction and they're starting things slowly with just walking on the treadmill & a bit of cycling. I've found out that the best exercise for diabetics is aerobic rather than anaerobic (ie running & weights). I've done a bit of swimming and just manage 2 lengths before feeling out of breath (asthma).
The nice thing is the spa pool which is massive and has different sections for different type of jet - it's a treat after the exercise bit.
And the massage - well that's booked for Saturday and it's the full works as I promised myself. Not cheap - but then I'm worth it!!!
After just over a year of seeing each other my man and I have parted ways.
We're still friends but the "lovers" part is on hold for a month, maybe indefinitely. I don't know, we're going to see each other on Sunday to talk about things. It'll be difficult but things can't go on either with not seeing each other and a 1 1/2 hour journey across London) to have fun for 2-3 hours and then the same time getting back.
It's been getting harder and harder to see each other since he started work full time in Docklands. It's made it almost impossible to meet during the week as I work way out West. By the time we get out of work and meet in the middle it's time to think about heading home because of getting up for work the next morning.
This summer has been hard, firstly he's been working overtime; then there are problems with the woman who lives upstairs from him, and then the heat of travelling on tubes and buses the last 2 weeks made it silly and not a sensible option for so little time together.
I guess it had to come to and end at sometime - we couldn't keep drifting along in what he called an "adult relationship" - and whilst we were supposed to have an "open" relationship, I did find it hurtful when he told me he was in conversation with other women with a view to meeting them, though I must admit I do admire his honesty in telling me.
The sad thing is that whilst I didn't want to hurt him, I didn't expect to feel so hurt myself. I realise I have had stronger feelings for him than he did for me, but I don't really know because he rarely let on (like most men - afraid of showing emotions).
Sunday isn't going to be easy - but we both want to remain friends. It'll just mean fewer phone calls and MSN conversations into the night. I promise I won't keep texting or calling him and pestering to meet him to "talk" like one of his other online women does - he told me about her, but not her about me.
Think I need some comfort food - but hell I'm now diabetic so I can't.
Btw - still on the metformin and still needing immodium. Worst still - getting lots of hot flushes due to being peri-menopausal which are hell in the heatwave! It's been s bad that I bought a bigger and more powerful fan for my room.
The Metformin tablets are giving me really bad side effects.
I could cope with the wind - but I can't cope with the explosive diarrhoea which comes with little or no warning so I'm living on Immodium so it isn't too embarressing.
At the same time they make me feel really sick, hot and I've stomach cramps not unlike having food poisoning.
It's just getting me down, especially as today it ruined my enjoyment of a really good birthday lunch party at some posh country club. I just wanted to cry.
In fact I should cry - but I can't. The tears don't come. I just feel angry and upset and fed up with it all.
I asked someone at church how long it lasts for and she said she still gets it and she's been on it for years! There's me still hoping that it'll settle down once my body gets used to the drug.
I don't no what to do or where to go for help. I'm supposed to be seeing a dietician at some stage but I guess that'll be months down the line and this person at church told me that I 'll only get referred to a diabetic clinic if /when I need to go on insulin.
I wish that someone could wave their magic wand and make it all go away.
Mind you, despite the eruption the lunch was very good in terms of company and fruit punch, although they ran out of food (they seemed to cater for half the number they were told were going to be there) and the staff didn't know what they were doing.
As for the provision of a disabled toilet - well they did get a portaloo for the disabled becuase the actual disabled loo was still being refurbished despite assurances that it would be ready on time. Not much room to swing a wheelchair but better than nothing.
I don't think that this country club will get much custom from the guests.
On a good note... the flowers the man sent me for my birthday last Wednesday are still looking great and filling the room with their perfume. I'm so lucky to have him as my guy.
Well the doctor has confirmed what I had been thinking, and the second set of blood tests proved it.
I am diabetic.
Got to start on the tablets immediately, do not pass GO, do not collect £200.
I asked whether it was for the rest of my life and it is - and so is my asthma and underactive thyroid.
The funny thing is that apart from feeling thirsty, and exhausted, and itchy (all symptoms apparently) I was feeling OK (or as good as OK as I ever am).
I did ask about side effects and one is excess wind....
Excuse me for laughing at that one, but I can already fart for Britain.
I wonder if the excess wind could propel me to work quicker than the H91 in the morning rush hour?
I'm sitting here posting naked because it's too hot & sticky to wear clothes.
Actually I lie - I'm wearing knickers, but the rest of me is bare, with the window wide open and the fan shifting warm air around the room. I'm putting off going to bed cos I'll only lie there all hot & sticky.
And the bothered bit is that I had the results of some blood tests today and my blood sugar count is very high which is likely to indicate diabetes. I need another test to check if it isn't a blip, but I was fasting last time...
I know most people adore hot weather and sunshine but I'm not one of them.
Now I'd appreciate the weather if I was on a nice sandy beach, or in the countryside sitting at a riverside pub, or if I had air conditioning.
But I'm stuck in grimy, sweaty, humid London, with no air-con apart from windows which, if opened. let in all the grim and noise of the A4 & M4 flyover. It's also hot & sweaty on public transport, and why the hell buses are blasting hot air into the bus God only knows. The only place to stand for complete coolness on the way to and from work is near the chiller cabinets at Sainsburys.
And now I'm bother cos i got a letter from my GP about my smear test when I had back in March saying they've found inflmmatory cells and they want me to go back in 6 months for another one. Now is that 6 months after they did the test or 6 months after I get this letter.
The letter says in bold "there is no need to panic"! Ha! That's after they tell you about the results!
And yes, I am worried. Mainly because my mother had cancer of the vulva a few years back, and whilst she made a full recovery I could be at risk.
Oh well, better book a holiday out of the grime and try and take my mind off it.
Updating my blog - it's been almost 2 months since my last entry and I feel really embarressed about it. Yet another "resolution" down the pan (not that I made any IRL you understand).
The good news is that my health's a lot better, although I still feel tired at weekends. My thyroxine dosage was increased and I was prescribed anti-histimines that worked. I'm going to see the doc about blood tests I had a few weeks ago but that's about all.
I've also been having acupuncture for sinus, hayfever. asthma, excema, circulation problems and weight! I was surprised just how little discomfort there is with the needles, although I must look like a hedgehog with the amount that get stuck into my abundant flesh.
Last Sunday I had some cupping treatment and a back massage to die for. Honest, I didn't want to get up I was so relaxed.
I'm also rattlling from all the tablets they sell me (guillable or what?) but I am seeing vast improvments and I feel really good. They did give me "tea" one week - looked weird and lasted foul and the landlady complained about the smell each time I boiled up the concoction. I just thought it smelt herbal - rather like a compost heap in sunshine.
Sadly this Sunday is the last session as I can't afford to keep shelling out the bank manager's money (blushes a deep shade of red). Still I feel good and that's what matters.
Now all I want is a holiday, though it's unlikely to be with the man of the moment, which although I'd like he can't get the same time off as me. I've thought of either a spa break or going to Whitby for the folk festival. I ought to book up dates at work - as soon as I think about having a week off someone else nabs it.
Oggs Outpourings 
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