In the Beginning...

I don't believe that much of what is going to be in this... journal, I guess. Cautionary tale, perhaps? Regardless, I don't believe that it is unique to me. There are many, many people that are going through what I am and many more that will. It's my hope in doing this that maybe I can help someone, even if they just know that they aren't alone. According to Kermit it's not easy being green. For this, let's equate "green" to "diabetic". It's not.

For a brief introduction, my name is Morgan and I was diagnosed at the beginning of this year with Type 2 Diabetes. This did not come as a shock. Finally, after almost 31 years, I've decided to stop ignoring what I've been doing to my body (slowly killing it, as it turns out). I've never been a drinker (of alcohol, we don't get along) or engaged in any sort of drug use or smoked. Those who knew me "in the day" may be happy to know that those aspects haven't changed. Maybe not. By some measures I've made healthy decisions. That's not really the beginning, just something to frame this with.

For all of my life, I've never been skinny. At best, kindly described as husky. High school had mandatory physical education and sports, which turned out to be a good thing. Along with concerts, dancing, bands, all of those youthful activities. I was in the 170 - 180 lbs range then; wrestling tended to promote a certain awareness of your weight. A little on the short and broad side, but I could still fit into XL easily, I never really put being trim in the cards or made it a priority.

College was a turning point in this regard. A pretty bad one and, again, this isn't anything special to me. Classwork from engineering was demanding and I couldn't (perhaps wouldn't, in all honesty) find the time to take care of myself like I should. Pretty much no physical activity beyond walking around campus, which was probably a couple miles every day, but not really at a pace that got the heart working, and a metabolism that was slowing down. Unfortunately, my appetite declined to follow suit. My eating habits were terrible; likely one meal a day, perhaps two, but they were bigger than they should have been (larger portions are cheaper) and often right at the end of the day. Which was typically around midnight to 2 am.

I've always tended towards those hours, which has created its own set of problems that we'll get to soon, and that schedule isn't good. Effectively starving during the day with a big meal was inviting my body to slow everything down and start storing all of the energy it could. It took that invitation in a big way. The things that I did eat were generally garbage. Big piles of meat, oil, carbs, sugar, and very little in the way of vegetables. Sadly, not uncommon. I know someone that got scurvy. Scurvy. The problems besetting the British Navy of the 17 century are still going on. Pirates are in Somalia now, but that's besides the point.

The poor sleep made me irritable, drowsy and I cannot imagine that it actually helped my weight issue in any way. Pretty sure it made a bad situation worse. During this time I slowly, or not-so-slowly, climbed to the range of 3XL. I don't actually know how much I weighed; I had little interest in the lies the scale would tell me. (Painful truths; it's hard to face your own obvious inadequacy in ways you aren't willing to change. Maybe not you, but it is for me.)

After college, a real job and marriage I started eating better. Fast food was cut from the diet. Less fried food, more vegetables. And on-again, off-again relationship with the gym. I was losing a little weight during this time. Not much, but in all I thought that I was doing good. It was also during this time that symptoms started to set in. Nighttime urination was the biggest, in hindsight, coupled with thirst. It was actually almost a joke that wherever we lived, I had to have easy access to the bathroom from the bed. The thirst, well, that was quenched with soda. Man, do I love a tasty beverage. Never alcohol, but something sweet and cold; not really a big fan of sweets in other forms. Turns out that this is a poor decision if you have a family history of diabetes.

My life was still sedentary by any standard. I've never been afraid to walk around and would have to regularly climb the stairs at work, but I still effectively had a desk job and made no real effort to move around. As time progressed, my symptoms did the same. Drowsiness started to become an issue; I started consuming an energy drink every day when I got home. This was just concealing larger issues and I would still be sleepy at times. I always made excuses about why I wouldn't do things to do something about my health. Work was a big one; I never had time to take off from work. While that was true, I could have done more to make time.