The Ooops! Factor

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.

Yesterday afternoon, in the process of re-acquainting myself with the carb and protein levels of various vegetables, I came across the information that one cup of sweet corn has 28 grams of carbohydrate. This is more than three times higher than, say, green beans, a cup of which has only 8 grams of carb. My choice is usually to eat lower carb veggies so I can have fruit, too, or a small chunk of chocolate for dessert.

The problem I uncovered in my information search, however, was that, on page 76 of my book on managing diabetes (Your Life Isn't Over ~ It May Have Just Begun! ), I say that corn has 123 grams of carb per cup. This is not only a lot, it is a ridiculous amount. And the kind of thing that happens when you're fact-checking alone without back-up. Can I get it corrected in future printings? I certainly hope so. But the ones that have already been sold or given away are wrong, wrong, wrong. Which would make me question everything else in the book, if I was the one reading or listening to it.

*sigh*

I am, needless to say, not happy about this. In fact, as a sociologist by profession, I'm mortified. But being humiliated for finding yourself mistaken is not an uncommon human condition. In fact, it has been suggested that, if you never make a mistake, you're probably not doing much of anything. That's why The New Yorker has an entire department that does nothing but fact check writer's work. So I'll correct the manuscript. I'll hope those who have already read the book will forgive me. And I'll be more careful in the future. But I can also use this experience as a teachable moment.

Sometimes, I make a mistake in managing my diabetes, too. There was the time, for example, when I bought something and ate it before I realized that the amount of carb grams listed on the label was for one serving and the rest of the tiny print should have informed me that the half-cup package contained "about two servings." Insofar as the item in question was a carb splurge to begin with, my blood glucose level went through the roof and I had to work hard to bring it to heel.

On another occasion, I went to an event I thought was a potluck, with my glucose level purposely nice and low so I could enjoy myself, only to find no food at all when I got there. Knowing the event was going to go on for hours, I had no choice but to leave -- quite disappointed and disappointing the people who begged me to stay because they didn't understand that I couldn't.

More recently, I ordered at a restaurant that usually has good service, not suspecting that the order would somehow get lost in the shuffle. Since I took my insulin right after I ordered, things got a bit tense for my dinner partner and me as we waited to see whether the food would come before I passed out. Thankfully, it did. But I didn't want to "eat a little something" and then not be able to eat my meal when it arrived.

In the first instance, I went running. In the second, I went home and ate dinner there. In the third one, I just gutted it out, monitoring my indicators (shaky hands, scalp heating up, etc.) to make sure I didn't cross the magic line. Unlike calling your significant other by the wrong name or running a red light you didn't notice when a car is coming through the intersection, mistakes such as these seldom cause really devastating consequences. Yet, they happen and they are troubling at the time. Fortunately, we learn as we go to problem-solve quickly, to commit to a resolution, and not to take it all too much to heart.