I don’t know about you, but I’m getting a little tired of being diabetic. Geez, every single day. Making sure exercise stays in the daily schedule. Watching every single thing I eat. Looking at those carbs, avoiding the “bad” and trying like heck to like some of the “good.” I say some because I’ve actually managed to find some healthy, “legal” things that I like, as much as I hate to admit it!
Couldn’t I just forget about it for one day? Probably not, since those numb toes that tipped me off to being diabetic in the first place are now numb feet. No more running up – or down – a flight of stairs…I have to look down and hold on or I’ll wind up in traction for a month. No more eating with abandon and then worrying about blood sugar spiking or worse (for me), crashing.
I just ordered Girl Scout Cookies—as I have done every year since I was a Brownie—and I don’t even get to have one bite! (I’m actually ordering them for two weight loss surgeons…What’s wrong with THAT picture?)
So while I’m sitting here crying in my beer (not true…I don’t even drink beer…anymore), I had a revelation. I was reminded by my own son that I taught him when life hands him lemons, make lemonade (I wish I had made that up)! I just saw that sentiment referred to in an essay he wrote for grad school admission, but he expressed it in much more grown-up terms.
My own revelation arrived in way more cranky terms. We got together with friends for dinner and a movie the other night and they wanted to go to a restaurant that featured pizza and pasta and bread (oh my!), not to mention dessert. I wanted to go too…but then I heard my own words: “Why don’t we just meet you at the movies?” I asked glumly. “No,” my friend replied. “We can go to that restaurant anytime. Let’s pick a healthier place. It’s the company, not the food!” “Hey, that’s MY mantra!” I told her. “Where do you think I heard it?” she said.
We got a good laugh out of that exchange, and it was enough to cancel out the crankiness of earlier that day.
Later, we parked at the movies and had to walk a good distance to the entrance. “Remember when you would have thrown a fit if you had to walk that far?”asked my (very fit) husband. Yup, I sure do remember. It wasn’t all that many years ago that any physical activity was met with a frown and a grumble.
Fast forward to the following morning when my hubby and I packed a breakfast and headed for the beach. (Sorry, Easterners!) We got a great parking spot because even in LA, nobody thinks about going to the beach in February. We sat there for a couple of hours, watching the waves and talking. We talked about how tough it is sometimes to make the healthy choices, to keep moving every day, to refuse to act old, even if we can't stop time from marching on. (He’s the one with a full head of gorgeous white hair, while I don’t have a grey hair in my head! Go figure!)
They say aging isn’t for sissies. Well, neither is being diabetic. It’s hard work sometimes. But considering the alternative, it’s sure worth it!
Stay well! See you next time!