Everything was fine for awhile. I had my sugars controlled to stay within the accepted normal range. I was still losing a bit of weight which was definitely good. I had the occasional lapse and enjoyed a sweet here and there, but always following the advice from the nutritionalist to avoid the other sugars if I knew I was going to lapse. Then it started happening. My sugars slowly inched up out of control. I started to exceed the upper ranges almost every time. I took myself back to the doctor to find out what I needed to do. Medicine time.
I went on an oral medication, GlucoPhage, to help the control. This brought it back in and life was good. For a few months. The sugars started creeping up again. I thought I had found the fix but I guess not. Now we added Prandia to the regimen. Again, good for a few months, then out of control again. I tried a variety of combinations over the next couple of years. Always got the control back, but never for long. Finally, the doctor ran a test to see if my pancrease was still working. The results came back like I expected and feared. It was basically dead. Gone. Caput. Crap.
The time had come to start sticking myself with more than the lancet to test my blood. On to the insulin and on to the most difficult part. The insulin freed me from the iron-clad restrictions I had been following because I now had something to fix my falls off the sugar wagon. Not only that, but it meant I was actually able to process everything I took in so I started putting weight back on. Not a lot, but certainly enough to effect my self-worth. The spiral into funk started again.
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