I found out today my husband was diabetic.
Don't think it's his fault, though. It's seems to be related to, or because of his accident. Things beyond our control.
Here's my CaringBridge journal on our visit to the Endocrinologist.
It could be sad if you think about it. But it seems pretty manageable, so we're choosing not to be sad.
However... I may have had a weird reaction.
After I found out, I met a dear friend for a coffee/lunch gathering. I had the need to eat things. Things I knew Jimmy couldn't have now. A chocolaty dessert.
I also secretly had a piece of cheese pizza after tennis. And popcorn. Chocolate milk.
I don't normally eat so much crap in one day.
Nothing even remotely low-carb.
Was it my way of bidding farewell? One last indulgence?
I do feel like Jimmy's new diet will help me to eat better, though. I don't want him to feel completely abandoned with all these changes.
He loves food just as I do.
It's totally cheesy marriage stuff, but I want him to feel like we're in it together. Tony Robbins style, y'all.
I can do low(ish)-carb, high protein.
And also, maybe he doesn't always have to know if I have a piece of dark chocolate mousse at Cafe Intermezzo.
If he did -- he probably wouldn't care. I would just talk about how damn good it was a whole lot less.
Diabetes is a little scary for me. I think the disease could have started my Grandmother and Uncle on the path to their eventual deaths. My mother has diabetes but has learned from them. With some bicycle riding and some better eating she is no longer taking insulin. Doesn't need to. I'm a very proud daughter because of that.
Me and my brothers have learned as well. We are all very active. We know what we need to be eating. We are Italian, though. Splurging is a part of it.
I think it's more important than ever that I remain healthy.
But to remain mentally healthy... well this includes chocolate.
Moderation, maybe not always in the wide open, and knowing that this disease is all around me.
It's waiting for me to massively slip up.
I shall not.