Friday, Sep. 04, 2009

Having either type of diabetes is scary

A reader phoned after last Saturday's column to tell me I had misdiagnosed my diabetes.

Writing briefly about my own relatively good health, I had mentioned I had a mild case of Type 1 diabetes.

Oops.

"You could not have a mild case of Type 1 diabetes," she admonished. "There is nothing mild about Type 1. You have Type 2. You can Google it."

Well, she was right of course, and never mind that she was the only person who caught the faux pas.

Actually, I knew when I wrote that I had the mild kind. But it is testament to my own medical illiteracy that I got the two mixed up. In my mind, 2 seemed more serious than 1.

Fortunately, I managed to marry a pharmacist who, after almost 40 years of filling Rx's, knows just about everything there is to know about medicine and sickness and other important stuff that I let slide so I can concentrate on such useless stuff as who'll be on Letterman tonight and how the Red Sox are doing.

When I was first diagnosed with diabetes, it frankly scared the bejeepers out of me.

My maternal grandmother was diabetic and had to have a leg amputated; my mother suffered from Type 1 and had a toe amputated. Eventually, the illness contributed heavily to her death.

So I had a family history, although my bride tells me there have been great advances in treating diabetes since my grandmother lost her leg.

No matter. When I was diagnosed, I quickly told friends and family about my newfound disease, sounding as mournful as if I were about to knock on death's door.

I think I scared them, too.

Well, what did I know? I've never really been sick in my life. I had a little skin transplant to remove a dark spot on my nose and replace it with a reddish spot. But that was not a big deal.

So when I heard the D-word I rather panicked.

That was almost two years ago, and other than eating more healthy food (no sweets, thank you) and making sure to get plenty of exercise and, oh, yes, taking four to five metformin tablets a day, my life hasn't changed much.

I don't take insulin, but I try to check my blood sugar levels every few days or so (much to my doctor's chagrin; he would prefer every few hours or so).

So after two years I've pretty much resigned myself to living for a while longer and I'll try not to mention diabetes again - unless I need another excuse for my poor golf. That could happen.