Dear Maurice,

Dear Maurice,                                                                                                1-31-2016

 It’s all good news. I stepped on the scale last night. I lost six more pounds! That’s right, I said it said it six pounds! Bringing the grand total to twenty lbs. My blood sugar this morning is 137. It’s a good day so far!

This whole health kick thing is like a fucking roller coaster. One minute you’re on top of the world. The next thing you know you’re at the bottom craving food at the most inopportune times.

Last night it was grilled hot dogs with dill relish, onions and mustard. Hell, it sounds delish now. Not donuts. Not ice cream. Not pizza. But hot dogs.

Why is this odd? Because after my time in San Antonio when it was a major part of my diet I couldn’t have cared less whether or not I ever saw a hot dog again. But right now all I can think about at 11AM is a fully dressed poppy seed bunned hot dog.

Why? I haven’t got foggiest clue. So I crave until hopefully mom and dad get hot dogs for supper. It certainly would hit the spot. For now I have to settle on peanut butter and pre-sliced apples.

Which is okay. Why? It makes the perfect snack, a complex carb and protein with and pure carbohydrate. With good fats to fill you up.

There are lots of diabetic friendly diets. And I’m no doctor. I just know what works for me. I need to get my 30 laps in today. 20 lbs. Heads still spinning on that one.

Much like my bipolar disorder there are highs and lows. Peaks of frustration, valleys of hopelessness, unmitigated joy when there is triumph. Also like facing bipolar disorder there is the challenge to self soothe without succumbing to one the thing I always had. Food.

Having been diagnoses with diabetes has forced me to face my mortality and deal with people’s intrusion into my life about my diet, medication and because Type 2 Diabetes is common and the people who are diagnosed are usually overweight, people are often rude or overeager at best to know about what I’m eating. How I’m eating, and other things they have no right to know.

But I’ve found being upfront and direct is usually the best policy.

I am anxious and excited about these having dropped so much weight. There are other developments in my life that I’m not at liberty to discuss which makes this journey a little harder. But suffice it to say it is a good thing in most respects. There some drawbacks on a personal level which makes me very sad. Making the craving for a hot dog that much stronger.

If I could I’d an entire bowl of s’mores ice cream. Hell, I could eat an entire quart of the stuff. It’s like crack for the heartsick and celebratory soul.

No alcohol either. I have a strong taste for champagne and Angry Orchard crisp apple flavor. Until I get my sugars under control both are cut from the diet entirely. Which is sad. Because I love both.

Another thing people tend to do is assume I’m always happy because I smile a lot. Professionally speaking it is good to smile a lot. No one really wants to be sad or talk about how hard it is to be diagnosed with a chronic disease.

The truth is this: I detest secrets. I believe secrets rot the soul. I am for the most part a transparent person. What you see is what you get. That will never change. Asking me to keep something under my hat for a while is one thing. If I feel like I’m being manipulated trust me when I say I can usually bear for a finite amount of time. But that time is short. And when I reach my breaking point I will never speak to you again.

Other people do not speak for me. I’m approachable. I’m impressionable. And I’m impulsive. I usually go with my gut. I’m a pretty good judge of character. But I have my 3BP peeps to sound off too. And while we might not be in a consensus all the time I value their opinion above others.

Today is a good day. I’m twenty pounds light and blood sugar is at 137. I’m hoping for a lower blood sugar number tomorrow. And I’m off to walk my thirty laps.

Sincerely

Amy McCorkle