When Life gives you Lemons, make Lemonade but...

DON'T FORGET THE SUGAR !

My transplant coordinator has done the final work-up to send my "Request for Authorization". I've done all the blood tests, x-rays, (blah, blah. blah). At this point it's basically just some paper pusher checking that all the t's are crossed and i's are dotted. I have fulfilled all of MY requirements. The package is on it's way.

...so, I'm at my regular Doctor's office for my normal 3-month follow-up. She does all of her blood pressure. eyes, ears, nose and throat, breathe iiiiin and out, lay down, squeeze, squeeze, thump, thump, thump (no turn your head and cough... that's a different doctor) We chat a little, she tells me how good I'm doing (and...wait... She didn't tell me how good I'm doing) I look over at her and she has a... not disappointed, but kind of sad look on her face. Suddenly "I" have a kind of frightened feeling, and she tells me "You're Diabetic" Talk about "slap me in the face with a wet fish"

When your world is spinning, it's hard to come up with all the questions, with the exception of "What?" and "Huh, whaa, uummmm... are we sure?" and that part was over. The next part was my doctor saying something like "m0v98a0 oizjfd lmpFUd rei last three blood tests lkmpoi Adf n this is something that we can manage, either with Diet or Medication..." then that part was over. Now it's an appointment with my Nutritionist for the "Diabetic Diet". I've been given three months and then it's medications if I can't manage it with diet.

So wish my vegetable-eating, non-smoking, beef-missing, salt-starved, sugar-free butt "Good Luck" Next thing you know, I'm going to be asked to give up Heroine !