Do As I Say, Not As I Do

If you’re new here to the Mikkimoto Tales you might not know I’m a type 2 diabetic. You might not know because I don’t talk about it much. It’s part of me but doesn’t define me.

After I was first diagnosed in March of 2010, I was incensed with determination. Once the terror of “having a disease” wore off, I made drastic changes like cutting out all white flour, white pasta, all sugar, and desserts. If it was white and/or had sugar I wouldn’t eat it.

And I did awesome. I dropped 30 pounds in a matter of months and got my sugars down from 274 at diagnosis to the 120′s very quickly. (normal blood sugar range is 70-99. For a diabetic anything under 130 is good.) I was a hero to my doctor and honestly, to myself.

My doctor was so amazed with my resolve and fast progress she asked me to be on a Diabetes Patient Advisory Council. In fact I shared my story for the University of Wisconsin Hospital and Clinics diabetes website.

I felt awesome. I went to the gym a minimum of four days a week. I loved how I felt and how I looked. Life was good.

And then spring of 2011 happened.

I got married, went on a honeymoon, bought a house, moved, helped my mom recover from open heart surgery, and got a puppy. With all that going on I started to slide. On everything.

Even though I still had the gym membership to the Y I could have written it off as a charitable contribution as I never went. I even started slacking on my eating. Although I can still say I haven’t had candy, cookies, dessert in almost two years, I started to eat white bread, pasta, French fries, fried anything. In large quantities.

At first, it didn’t catch up with me. I gained some weight back but not all of it and my blood glucose was still really well under control.

That was then.

This is now.

Now when my dangerously-close-to-40 body isn’t bouncing back like it used to.

Now when my body is clearly pissed off at my poor behavior for the past six months.

Now that I’ve gained back 23 pounds of the 30 I lost.

Now when my morning blood sugars are in the high 130′s; if I’m lucky.

A good friend of mine recently told me that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. We all go in cycles. “You’ll be back to this again one day. It just matters that you get back on track when the fun is over.”

So I was all ready to write this brutally honest post and tell you about my doctor’s appointment next week which feels more like a final that I haven’t cracked the book on. I wanted to get this out there as a motivation to REALLY get this weight off (again. ugh!) and get to the gym. I have been doing yoga and some walking but it’s not enough.

And then I got a sign. A huge, lights flashing in my face, rock hitting me on the head, kind of sign.

Yesterday I came back from lunch (where I ate French fries <— truth in blogging act) to find an email asking if UW Health could use my picture and my story for diabetes awareness advertising around the hospital and clinics.

I immediately said yes! as I added “Poster Child for Diabetes” to my resume but then it hit me.

As I re-read my story I wrote right after my diagnosis, my stomach churned at how lax I’ve become and how it has to stop. Now.

I know what my body wants, and clearly I know how to do it. If my face is going to be associated with overcoming diabetes, it better be a happy, thinner one without Cheetos orange dripping from my chin.

I had a good run of it but it’s over. This extra weight, these high blood sugar readings are a thing of the past.

Becky and her story say so.