The eyes have it.

I met my deductible last month. I'm not really sure if that's a good or a bad thing. Regardless, it means I can take advantage of not having to pay for meds or doctors appointments for the rest of the year — which is winding down quickly. One doctor I need to see (quite literally) is Dr. Basham, my eye doctor.

I really like Dr. Basham. He's a good guy and a good doctor. I've been seeing him for about six or seven years now, I guess. I had LASIK surgery back in 1996. I had terrible eyesight as a kid. I couldn't tell you what it was, but I was told that I was legally blind without correction. That didn't stop me from driving a car without my glasses once in my youth, but that's a story for another day. Anyway, I had very bad astigmatism. I started wearing gas permeable contact lenses when I was 11. I also have very dry eyes, so the darned things wouldn't pop out. I had to carry this little rubber plunger thing with me to suck them out of my eyes. It was cumbersome and I was constantly panicked that I didn't have my plunger with me and would have to sleep with my contacts in — the most dreaded of all things to people with rigid lenses. So when I hit 35 or so, I decided no more contacts. I only wore my glasses. They were horrible. My astigmatism made them very concave (or convex — I can never remember which is which). They were thick and made my eyes look like tiny dots. They also made my head look like a pear. I know you probably think I am exaggerating, so those of you who knew me back in the day, feel free to comment below and confirm.

In 1996 the doctor I was seeing then suggested LASIK. So I refinanced my car and headed over to the Indiana Lasik Center for my big day. It truly was pretty amazing. The whole thing seemed like it was over in about five minutes. After they were finished they propped me up and asked me to look at the clock and tell them what time it was. It was noon! I could see it perfectly. Went back to work the next day — without any correction.

Gradually throughout the year my vision regressed. I went in for an enhancement surgery and that helped, but eventually I needed to wear glasses again. But they were no longer those huge, heavy things that would constantly slide down my nose — nor were the lenses so strong that I was afraid to take them off in sunlight for fear that I might start a grass fire.

Since 1996 I have aged, of course, and about six years ago during a visit to Dr. Basham he told me he was concerned about how my vision was fluctuating. I just thought it was from the LASIK and didn't give it a second thought. Then, at work, I noticed I couldn't see my computer screen that well. I was already into bifocals by then, so I didn't think that had anything to do with it. I moved my computer around and tried to figure out what was going on. One morning I was drinking coffee and realized that I was drinking it — not sipping it, like you do with coffee, but kind of guzzling it. I remembered that the night before I drank a soda the same way. And then a conversation came to me that I had with my niece. Her daughter had been diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, and the way that Shannon knew this was that Bailey was thirsty — constantly. I googled "Type 2 diabetes" and guess what two of the symptoms were? Blurry vision and thirst.

Needless to say, vision problems are part of the program. As a matter of fact, diabetes is the leading cause of blindness in adults age 20 to 74. Besides Glaucoma and Cataracts, diabetes can lead to Diabetic Retinopathy, which due to damage of small blood vessels in your eyes. Which is exactly why it's so important to see an eye doctor regularly. But, here's the rub — you may not see better, because after a round of high sugars, it may take as long as three months for your eye sight to stabilize before a new prescription can be given.

So, this is the next thing on my agenda. Dr. Basham, I'll see you soon!

Let's Talk Turkey.

Well, I've made it through one Thanksgiving dinner. Another will be coming tomorrow. Holidays are tricky for dieters and diabetics. They take planning. They take strategy. They take willpower, positive self-talk and a good support system. Fortunately this year, I have those things.

I was invited to a friend's house this year. It's probably the first time in about 20 years that I didn't have Thanksgiving with my family. My friends Rebecca and Rich invited me to join them. Their son wouldn't be coming home for dinner and they reached out and I accepted. Rich is an awesome cook and Rebecca had made dessert, so I knew it would be fabulous.

The first thing they did was ask me what favorites I would like to have served. I have no particular Thanksgiving favs except for Turkey and Pumpkin stuff. They are both aware of my diabetes, so they wanted to make it easy for me to eat without incurring high sugars.

I was served a multi-course dinner. It started off with a delicious, hearty squash soup. Rich told me all of the ingredients of everything we ate so I would know how to adjust my insulin. The only carb in the soup was a bit of cream, so it didn't even count. Plus it was filling, so it helped curb that desire overeat on other things. The next course included a stuffed mushroom, a small puff-pastry and the most delicious deviled egg I ever had. Not much carb there, either.

The main course included green beans (not the dreaded casserole), two small twice-baked potatoes (New or Red — not sure which, but they were small), dressing, some very moist turkey and gravy. It was served up, so I didn't have to worry about over-serving myself. Correctly portioned, delicious and not carb-crazy. It was followed by a scrumptious pumpkin bar and a freshly-brewed cup of coffee and some great conversation.

Of all the things I have to be grateful for this year, this blog and the wonderful support of my friends and family rank very high. I feel, for the first time since I was diagnosed, that I can manage this thing. I know there will be trying times. I know that I will have successes and failures. But I also know that I don't have to be a slave to this disease. It's with me, it's a part of me, but I don't have to stop living as a result of it.

In August of 2013 I will turn 50. My goal is to have some kind of exercise/physical activity consistently in my life by that time. I know I can do it, and you'll be there with me as it happens. And for that, I am thankful.

Meet George Jetson.

So, I've been easing into the exercise thing. First of all, I am feeling pretty good these days. My sugars have come back down to normal (more or less) and I have been diligent about taking all of the zillions of pills I have to take, and all in all, I'm doing well.

My great niece has been living with me, and this weekend she moved out, freeing up a spare room. The more I thought about it, the more inspired I became to rearrange some furniture. I moved my bedroom furniture into her old room and am turning my old bedroom into a den/office. My treadmill will eventually reside there, but the room needs a major clean-up before that can happen.

I came home from work yesterday evening, still feeling good. A little tired, but good. Had a bite to eat. Having moved the TV I had in the kitchen (a new tactic that will hopefully keep me from lingering by the food), I had no reason to tarry there, so after dinner I moved into the living room. I sat on the couch, and what should be looming right across the room from me, but the treadmill. It refused to be ignored.

I changed my clothes (not to put on silly workout stuff, but something a little more comfortable than the clothes I wore to work) and climbed aboard. My treadmill was a gift from a friend. It's a little on the elderly side and has this convoluted thing where you move this magnet thing from "off" to "activate," press a button on the front, enter a bunch of stuff, and off you go. I always forget this sequence of events (being that I only seem to use it once every six months), so I had to reacquaint myself with the ritual. It roared itself awake and off I went.

TV on, iPhone handy, glass of water near — it was all good. Then, suddenly... wait a minute, it's occurred to me that I haven't told you that I have three dogs. Zodie, a 12-year-old German Shepherd, Otis, a five-year-old Brussels Griffon and Mrs. Binklee, a crazed Chihuahua/Pug mix. Zodie is old and somewhat rickety. She likes to lay wherever I am, so wherever I am, there she be. Otis is her pal, so wherever she is, there is Otis. Mrs. Binklee on the other hand, has a mind of her own and may or may not be with me, depending on whether I have food, or can help her to be comfortable. Zodie is the largest, then Mrs. Binklee (who's width exceeds her height) and then Otis. He's a tiny little monkey-looking thing with long hair. Very cute.

So, back to the treadmill. I'm sauntering along, pacing myself (don't ask me what my pace was though. I'll tell you it wasn't all that fast) and suddenly, out of the blue, Otis jumped on the treadmill with me. It seriously was like something out of a movie. He was walking on it, but clearly didn't understand what was going on. I was screaming for him to get off, while envisioning him getting his fur or feet caught in the thing. I finally sort of scooted him off with my foot. He seemed no worse for the wear. It freaked me out a bit, though. Obviously my dogs would like to go for walks and will find any way to do so. Except for Mrs. Binklee. She's a lot like her momma.

Despite that bit of drama I finished my treadmill excursion. It wasn't too horrible and I think it's something I can fit into my life without too much effort. Otis, on the other hand, is going to have to get his own treadmill.

High times.

Wow. What a week. It has been stressful and not just because of the election on Nov. 6th. Busy at work, busy at home, bills to pay, projects needing to be done, well, you know. You have such things, I'm sure. Even more, I'm guessing.

That flurry of business brings stress. I'm not good with stress. Some people thrive on it. It helps motivate me to a certain point, but then if I'm too overwhelmed I shut-down and become somewhat paralyzed. But one thing is for certain. For me, along with stress comes high sugars.

I'm still doing well with the eating (I stumbled a bit today, but nothing too horrendous). Still taking my meds, testing and administering the proper amounts of insulin, but it hasn't been working as well. Sugars over 200. Ack.

I'm planning on starting a new exercise regime tomorrow. Yeah, I know, tomorrow — why put off 'til tomorrow what you can do today? Well, I'm beat and just don't plain want to do it tonight. After I finish writing this, my dogs and I are going to camp out on the couch and watch some TV. But don't think I'm not serious about this. I'll check in and let you know if it happens.

The weight is over.

When I started blogging I put away bad foods. I mean, how could I write about my struggles with diabetes and continue to eat all of the things that were causing me to have such high sugars? I've ignored the doughnuts in the break room. Refrained from cakes, cookies, cupcakes, etc. Just said no to pie. No cheeseburgers or shakes or tubs of Fro-Yo or Yo-Yo or Yogo with Reese's sprinkles on top. None of that. And you know what? Good sugars to report. I'm watching my portions, counting my carbs, and gradually, ever so gradually, adding some exercise in to boot.

So why am I gaining weight? I haven't weighed myself in awhile, because I was eating so much crap. I mean, why would I? But, I thought I felt my pants fitting just a bit better, so I hopped on the scale. Up five pounds since my last doctor's visit. Why? I remember the days of yore. Eight glasses of water a day, bananas and proteins and the weight would drop. Success at the old Weight Watchers meeting! I was a Weight Watchers groupie, always anxious to share some tried and true tidbit with my colleagues. They were so eager to hear about my gadget for tracking points or how I made a smoothie for zero points. I was a superstar.

But it's not so easy these days, and one of the reasons is insulin. Many people don't like to take insulin because it can cause weight gain. I like it though. I've been on other drugs and they were crazy expensive and made me queasy (probably from how much they cost!). When I went on insulin it felt to me like an answer to a prayer. It was affordable and it is administered in proportion to your carb intake. Just like how it works in your body. It's a synthetic insulin, but it's just like the insulin that all of us (except those Type 1 folks) have in their bodies anyway. Plus, five pre-filled pens of insulin are still less expensive than one month's worth of Byetta (a Type 2 pen).

I'm also rounding the corner on a milestone birthday. The older we get, the more difficult it becomes to take off those pesky pounds. And accompanying that upcoming event is menopause. Hormones become wacky and can have a big effect on weight. Wee-haw!

So, I guess I can run but I can't hide. I'm going to have to buckle down and get serious about the exercise. It's the only thing that can move the numbers on that scale in a downward direction. Things are better — lots better. But they can improve. It's time to make it happen.