Talking Illness Blues

Diabetes Plus

Won’t I ever again feel any better? Type II diabetes (plus) caught hold of me about six months ago and hasn’t turned loose yet. My blood sugar count has gotten under control, my doctor says, so I guess it’s the “plus” that won’t turn loose. I’ve had eyesight problems, but that’s gotten better, too, so that’s good. But I continue to get dizzy and be unsteady on my feet. My guts are not very settled, though my gastrointestinal tract has passed muster on a colonoscopy test, an upper GI, and a small bowel test! I’ve had x-rays, ultra-sound, sound waves, pantie raids and pantry weevils. No, wait a minute, that last was something back when I used to do pest control. And the raids thing was back in college. (Bad trips are never forgot!)

When will I get better? I have fatigue all the time. I can’t recuperate! If I gather laundry or wash the clothes or dry the clothes, I tire and have to rest. I have no stamina. I can’t make three rounds pushing the lawnmower in a small area in the back yard. Everything’s the same. I can take the mail to the mailbox or the garbage can to the driveway, but that’s about it. I keep having to rest, whether I lie down for it or not! I get dizzy too easily and too often. No one seems to be on the verge of identifying what I have or if I have anything at all. Sometimes I hope it’s just that I had diabetes for so long before it was diagnosed (my fault for not going to doctors) and I began any medication. It may take a similar extreme amount of time before I recuperate! I suspect I had diabetes for years before I was so hammered into the ground that I gave in and went for medical help! Not a promising line of thought, I guess, but that's how it was, I think.

Still, maybe I'm wrong. It’s all confusing. One doesn’t know what to believe. It’s hard to believe I have nothing, but also hard to believe I have something that has escaped detection this long! Six months is a lot of doctor’s visits and clinic visits and pokes and prods, dammit. If they told me it was in my head, I’d go see a hypnotist right away. I might not believe it, but what the hell use is believing for someone like me? My belief has nothing to do with it. I’m not a True Believer nitwit like Tom Cruise. I figure I’m something or I’m not. So what is it? I don’t postulate that I know more than the doctors, but I do see quite clearly that nobody knows much of anything, and I don’t like it!

Well, if I could talk illness away from my door with my ratty blog, I’d be cured. The weight of all this inveterate font out there on computer screens across America that view my Internet guff would surely smother the disease!

One could hope.

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