A personal victory

On a more positive note, this week I'm celebrating a personal achievement, of (intentionally!) losing 10% of my body weight over the past eight months. My trigger event, was that I asked for an A1C reading during my annual physical exam last year, and was told I was slightly above the normal range, which technically made me prediabetic. Holy ****, I thought, after the past 20 years of dealing with Kristan's diabetes and complications. Don't need to do anything special, they said, since I'm still below the diabetic range. Don't worry, my dad said, since several of my ancestors were prediabetic but never became diabetic. But, I decided to be proactive, and my first action is to keep close track of my food intake, and exercise a little more, with a goal of 10% weight loss over a year. My doctor, and other people, have told me that that alone can make the difference. So this week, I made it! Slow and steady, that's my motto, in many things, and this too. This puts me back at the weight I was, 30 years ago, when Kristan and I were married. Coincidentally, after that last scare in the ER in January, I went to my primary care physician for a follow up, and asked for another A1C as long as I was there. The result was encouraging, as it now falls just inside the normal range. Woo hoo!

The idea of moving on

My friend Rachel forwarded me to this post on Kelley Lynn's website, where she talks about the idea of moving on. I thank her for the thoughtful and self respecting words. Nobody has yet asked me to move on, and now it's been a year since losing Kristan, the center of my universe for over 30 years. She's so on target – every single thing has changed, and most people don't get that. In all fairness to the well-wishers who speak such hurtful things, I like to think that if I were ever to ask someone to move on, I would be asking them to not let their memories of their previous life paralyze them, leaving them unable to function in today's world. That is the only thing that I wish I could move on from.

Sunday at the ER

So, it was my turn, Sunday night, to spend four hours at the ER. Very scary experience, but I'm fine now. It turns out, that something I ate, really disagreed with me, and vice-versa!