"A little paranoid, are we?"

If you're like me, you probably rattle around this world with at least a few fears; nothing wrong with that, of course. Fear can be a healthy emotion. But only if it causes you to take some form of positive action. For instance, based on my conversations with other diabetics [and my own paranoid imaginings], there is much fear of losing a limb to disease. If that fear motivates you to take steps to help control your blood sugars better, as well as exercising to maintain the best conditioning possible for you, that fear has become a positive encouragement to healthy actions. Then again, if you are swept up in concern and negative imaginings [like the screaming man in the painting at left; incidentally, at least one theory on the Web says artist Edvard Munch was motivated by a crushing case of agoraphobia; who knew?] , the stress thus created will likely make it even harder to control your blood sugar levels, and possibly drain any interest you may have in activity, healthful or otherwise.

I don't know why, but my fear level rises several points while I'm sitting in my doctor's waiting room. It's not the fact that most of my fellow patients are superheroes [as illustrated at right]; come to think of it, why have we had to wait until 2009 for the introduction of diabetic superheroes? Anyway, I just get more and more paranoid waiting to see one of my doctors. I bet a few of you out there have, too. And you probably feel as foolish as I do when the fear comes.

But the real fear doesn't kick in until I'm actually in one of my doctors' examination

rooms; I've yet to figure out what sets my heart to trip-hammering when I'm sitting alone in that room, waiting for WHATEVER. I mean, I can be there, feeling good about my "numbers", my compliance with the treatment plan, my weight, my posture, everything. But still the fear comes.Why? I think it comes from a sense that, no matter how well I've kept to "the program", I have veered at least occasionally [trying to block a candy bar with my mouth, for instance]. (My late father, who was an LPN for many years, told me about "white coat syndrome", a theory that people, suffering the same kinds of fear that I do, actually raise their own stress, leading to artificially-high blood pressure readings, for instance. Something to that, I'd think. But "the fear" is there before I see the doctor [and why don't most doctors keep anything to read in those exam rooms? There's usually more than enough to read in the waiting room. Even if it's five-year-old issues of Time or Newsweek, it can help keep your mind off what's coming].

So, can anything bring Serenity to those moments before a doctor's appointment? Perhaps it starts with an acknowledgement that you have DONE YOUR BEST at compliance with your treatment, a belief that you may not be perfect, but you have made an effort to eat properly, exercise regularly, and followed the treatment program of your health care team. In the movie Animal House, Dean Wormer tells pledge "Flounder"[*], "Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life". Well, paranoid and fearful is no way to go through life, either. Make the effort. Do what you're supposed to do, as best you can. Then face your doctor with a clear conscience [and probably good results, to boot].

-Mike Riley

* - "Flounder" was played by Steven Furst, who has, in real life, struggled with diabetes. In fact, he's even made a couple of videos and written a book on the subject. They can be ordered from the American Diabetes Association [click on the link above and to the left, under "Diabetes Information"].

Compliance - It's Not Just For Bondage Night Anymore...

Like many people who grew up in the 60's and 70's, I'm not very good at discipline [you may have noticed fewer and fewer ships-in-a-bottle are made each year; I fear our American s-i-a-b resources may run out before the next decade ends]. I wanna do what I wanna do, when I wanna do it, and never mind the consequences.

Well, while that operating system should have done wonders for my self-esteem [it didn't, but I don't blame it on the 60's and 70's], it's very likely one of the main reasons I'm writing a blog on dealing with diabetes from a patient's perspective. I'll be honest; I was very aware that I was a likely candidate for type II diabetes from an early age:

-I was morbidly obese;

-There was a history of diabetes in my family

-I certainly didn't eat a very healthy diet; even when what I ate at home was okay, I had a tendency to supplement it with outrageously-bad snacks from the "junk food" aisle of my neighborhood's grocery store.

Put that all together, and it spells "T-y-p-e II".

So, here we are. I'm 51, still morbidly obese, adding to the history of diabetes in my family [it turns out both my brothers, in somewhat better shape than me, are type-II. As was my late mother...]. I'm eating better, but only by not carrying money most of the time [it does work, but it doesn't do wonders for the self-esteem (see above)]. Then again, I'm less morbidly obese than I was a couple of years ago, my blood sugars are mostly under control, and the quality of "junk food" I pick now is much healthier [usually].

This comes down to the discovery, over the years, that when I follow the treatments from my health professionals, I feel better. Not wonderful, but better [the more damage you do to yourself, the less wonderful it feels when you stop. Still, it's a good feeling].

The word most medical professionals use when a patient is properly following the treatment as planned is compliance. You can't imagine how I hate that word. It's not that I have issues with putting my life in the hands of another [I ride buses just about everywhere]. I don't have issues with taking medicine. My problems are eating what I shouldn't, and not exercising [if only Robo-Cop were available as a personal trainer...]. But those issues are part of the "C" word. My treatment, your treatment, is a package. You and I both need to follow all the instructions, as best we can.

(Of course, we don't need to be happy about it. Just as the right to Pursue Happiness is in many nations' Constitutions, so is the implied right to be miserable [if that makes you happy]. The older I get, though, the harder it is to follow after misery.)

All I know is, when I'm compliant with my health care team's treatment plan, I physically feel better. My brain is clearer. My mood improves. I actually believe that all the hassles of being compliant are worth it.

Make compliance your safety word...

-Mike Riley