About a year or so ago, I started this blog called Diabetic Comeback: Shooting for 100. It was an ongoing monologue about managing type- 1 diabetes. As a somewhat “newbie” type-1 diabetic I thought this would help me lick this disease and everything would be under control in no time. Well, I quit writing it after a month or so frustrated that I didn’t have the damn thing under control.

 I went to go see Jim Turner’s one man show “My Life with Diabetes.” You probably remember Jim from the “Arliss” show or, for us old schoolers, he was “:Randee of the Redwoods” in the early years of MTV. His show plays every first Sunday of the month at the Santa Monica Airport (except for February when it is on the 11^th so Jim can watch the Super Bowl). It was inspiring and depressing to hear the trials that Jim has gone through. For the first time it really sunk in:

SHIT!

 I got this for life.

 Jim has been struggling with diabetes for 36 years-ish. 

In the sub-culture of Diabetes, I find that there are two types. The boasters who are fucking perfect and the rest of us who stare at the ceiling and wonder why everything we do isn’t working. Jim’s show taught me something. The perfect ones are lying or extremely lucky.

With thirty five years of experience, Jim still has to work extremely hard at controlling his sugars. If this can be said this a good time to be a Type-1. I’m sure you have seen all the ads with BB King and his 5 second blood glucose monitor.  In 1974 Jim had to piss in a test tube, shake it around and kind of guess what the color was. The color would then kinda define where he was.  

I lead a pretty “regular guy  kind of life.” I work hard at keeping it under control. I fail a lot.

Try doing that and being a road comic opening for Bowie and The Ramones. And all that goes with it.  

In any case, Diabetic Comeback: Shooting for 100 is back.  Here at Crackpot Press. Not on the blogspot site.

So without too much ramblization, I present “Pre-Amble: Shooting for 100” Actually, it seems a bit Pollyanna from last year. Have I grown up that much? Well I am better diabetic.. I must be a better writer.  Read the last paragraph… apparently IO was acting out that day. What  a jagov.

I'm starting this blog to keep myself honest. Two and half years ago I was in some of the best shape of my life. Regularly you could find me at the gym taking a yoga, class followed by a spin followed by some weights. Even found time to put away a pack of smokes a day. Around that time, I found myself going from a bit run down to a lot run down.

Too tired to work out, too tired to focus on work, too tired to pretty much give a damn about anything.

The woman I was dating at the time looked at me and told me "You need to put about 1.5 Lbs in each cheek." In the soap and water stained mirror, my faded 34 inch jeans were baggy and I had the belt notched all way. A grey coffee stained University of Idaho Vandals hung off of me, my tongue needed a shave, all of the flavors of zebra striped gum danced a tango muerte in my mouth. Pale skin constrasted against three days of stubble and sunken black eye sockets.

Could there be something REALLY wrong with me?

A week later I was in the Intensive Care Center, and told that I was 12-24 hours away from death with a Blood Sugar Count of 800, 8 times the normal level of 100. Three days after my 35th birthday I was diagnosed with Juvenille Diabetes. I was sentenced to a life of 3-5 insulin shots a day, carb counting, low blood sugars and a whole lot of other crap I had never heard of a week earlier. Note: This is not TYPE 2 Diabetes, where you can usually control it with diet, excerise and oral medication. The day after being released from the hospital, you may have seen me sitting on the floor of the Ralph's Frozen Food section weeping trying to figure out what the hell I could eat.

On the outside I snapped into action, taking a multitude of classes, joining American Diabetes Associations charities.. all in the sake of figuring it all out. Even quit smoking for four months. For the first year, I was in pretty good control.

After the first year I ended the Honeymoon Phase of the disease and into the real deal. My step dad died around this time and I acted out. I did a real half ass job of being a diabetic. I started smoking more, gluttonizing from time to time, drinking caffiene and alcohol heavily, not always testing regulary. While one wouldn't consider me fat, I weigh just north of 210, I am 6'3", I am still 25 lbs overweight. My A1C test (this is a test that measures Glucose over a three month period) has been over 7, not dangerous, but well over an desirable amount.

Well now, it's time to take control. It's time for a comeback. This is going to be the diary of my efforts to fit into a category of being a good diabetic.

I want that fucking body I had two and a half years ago.

And now I am going to take it back.

This journal will include my daily regiment, food intake and sugar reactions. I need to break some habits that could cause me a lotta trouble down the road. Diabetes is a long term disease, the occasional bowl of ice cream isn't gonna kill you, but prolonged irresponsible behavior can. This journal is not a look back, this is what is happening right now. I may have triumphs I may have failures, but the important thing is to just keep trying.

Monday Feb 7 8:55 pm.

BGS: 225 A1C: 7.5
For Dinner: Chilli Cheese Dog, 1 Biscuit, Strawberry Ice Cream, Bowl of Chicken Noodle Soup
Carb Count: Unkown
Insulin in take: 35 Units of Lantus (base shot) 2 additional units of Humolog (Fast Acting)
Activity: Watching the Apprentice, no excercise.
How I feel: Feet feel dry and scaly.

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