Some things can be planned and some resist you like a two-year-old full of birthday cake. And you can't always tell which are going to be which.
One thing that seems to be working pretty well for me right now is coming home after I shop at my favorite grocery store and remembering to do their online survey. I've mentioned this before because, while I have a few friends who are so much better off financially than I am that it really doesn't matter (within reason) how much they spend -- on groceries or anything else -- most of the people I know have to count their pennies more or less.
I'm not sure when the store implemented the practice of offering a five-dollar coupon for filling out the survey. I mean, by the time I spend an hour reading labels at the end of a long day and go through the process of checking out, I'm pretty brain dead. So past the perfunctory "thank yous" I trade with the cashier, there's little real communication going on at that stage.
Those of us who have diabetes may get a lot of finger-wagging from medical professionals, family members, and even friends about high blood sugar. And it's absolutely true that if we're not managing our condition, if we're eating more than we should, forgetting to take our medication, or eating the wrong things, our blood glucose will be high and our risk of developing complications -- like blindness or strokes or heart attacks or neuropathy (which can cause us to lose an arm or a leg) -- are greatly increased. So I take this really seriously and try very hard to keep my numbers down where they belong.
But since 2008, when I was first diagnosed, I've had a number of adventures with low blood sugar, which can come on fast, is sometimes no fun to deal with, and can be dangerous itself. Low blood sugar can occur if we get busy and forget or don't take time to eat. It can occur if we accidentally take more medication (especially insulin) than we need. And it can occur if we exercise even moderately for a half hour or more. And those are just a few of the examples.
Most people that know me, especially those that have known me for a while, will tell you that I'm wrapped a little tight. Always have been. Even as a toddler, I was a perfectionist. And being a perfectionist will amp up that anxiety level at a moment's notice over things other folks wouldn't even notice.
It's not as though I haven't worked on it over the years. And whether or not my efforts were always 100% conscious, I have made progress. The first time I was made aware that my emotional responses had improved was when my daughter (then ten or so) left a quarter size ink spot on my favorite peach-colored spread and I just said, "Well, it's only a blanket." She couldn't believe it.
But that was some time ago and I still get more anxious than most. Sometimes out of nowhere. Sometimes when it causes real problems. And sometimes when I'm doing my damnedest not to.
I've recently decided to make a shift in the direction of becoming a vegetarian. I've decided not to buy any more meat (not even a can of tuna!) until I finish eating what I already have in my kitchen -- which should be gone in a few weeks, at most. And at the rate I'm moving, I half expect I'll be over the urge to buy meat by then.
I'm reading labels even more intensely than ever. Many of my meals and snacks are vegetarian now, including this morning's breakfast: a peanut butter and banana sandwich on whole wheat toast with two dried dates on the side (one of my personal favorites). I've located my copy of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Being Vegetarian (bought more than a decade ago). I've started scanning my diabetic cookbooks for vegetarian recipes. And I'm scouting Amazon for new cookbooks in case I feel the need.
But while I'm delighted to keep you posted about my progress on this exciting new journey, that's not the point of today's post. Though it's how I came up with the idea.
