“What do you mean I can’t have pizza for breakfast?” I don’t think my doctor is taking me seriously. “Look, Tonia. You’re going to get diabetes among other health issues that you don’t have already, if things don’t change. You’re not 20 anymore. You have to start thinking of your health and well-being.” I stare at him blankly while smacking my sugar-free gum. I leave the office feeling like nothing was accomplished. On another note, I did get a new pill and an increase in another. One for anxiety and the increase in depression medication. That’s right, Doc. Dope me up. That should help.
My therapist and I are having a stare off. “Why are you here?” he finally asks. “Where do you want me to start?” I reply with a chuckle. “Let’s start with why you sought help in the first place.” I really hope he has all day. I don’t think I can squeeze this all into a hour. “I have mother issues, anger issues, trust issues, sexual issues, and food issues. Just to name a few. Shall we start there?” Oh, God. He’s writing. Jot that down, dude. You’re going to need to remember this. Got enough ink in that pen? “Ok. Let’s start with your food issues. Why do you think you have issues with food?” I laugh hysterically inside. “Because I have mother, anger, trust, and sexual issues.” He gets paid for this stuff? He isn’t the first therapist I’ve seen and I have a suspicion he won’t be the last. This session has stressed me out. Guess I will treat myself to KFC and wash it all away with a root beer float.
My feet are starting to tingle. I work from home so I sit at the computer 9+ hours a day. I chalk it up to long periods of sitting. My legs start to ache. I try to get up and move around but my job has me glued to the screen. At night the tingling is worse. I elevate my feet and ignore it. Eight months later and I am feeling numbness. I change doctors and the new Doc schedules a diabetes test. “No biggie,” I tell him. “They’ve poked my finger before and sugars are always fine.” He laughs. Little did I know that it takes much more than that. The results: Type 2 diabetes. I barely hear the doctor talk about long term damage and dietary changes. My mind goes into a fog. “Is this going to be it? Is this going to be the wake-up call I need to change my life?” I stuff a large chunk of Kit Kat into my mouth and then take a long swig from my Pepsi. Can’t imagine how the diabetes arrived in the first place. Hop aboard the sugar train! I need to ponder this.