Tiny Pellets of Death

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Okay, so it has been two weeks of no carb/low carb living… I am trying to get my blood sugars down from 210 sometimes to the necessary 120. This is the goal, this is the normal expected blood sugar. I wasn’t even close starting out. So far, the lowest I have gotten is 133. It will be a slow process from what I understand. Right now I am at defcon one when it comes to sugars. I have to be super strict about it. I want to get off this medicine. I know it won’t happen quickly but I think the feeling of urgency is helping me to stay on point.

Okay first the bad news. This change in our lifestyle is time consuming and frustrating. My husband who does the shopping and the cooking has really been trying but convenience foods have sort of been our go to for a long time, like I am sure a lot of Americans. We have relied on things you can easily microwave or picked up at a window. We sometimes sit paralyzed in the dining room trying to decide what to eat. We stand up together roam through the kitchen pantry and peak in the fridge for like twenty minutes with no ideas. I realize that it seems easy, right? It’s really not. We have to make our brains think differently. I mean I can’t have a package of popcorn. That’s my go to snack. Now, it is like, I will eat this piece of cheese and a small piece off the left over chicken. That’s just an example of something random. Things you would think are awesome are sort of off limits for now, like grapes and peaches. Which is especially heart breaking because I just got my favorite peaches from the farmers market, giant snow peaches from Kelley Orchards. I am just allowed to stare at them…maybe have a couple slices here or there.

I am having weird dreams that husband and I are buying ice cream, gallons of it, and also ice cream sandwiches. It is like God is allowing me to binge in my dreams. Also about three days into this no carb thing, Brad was making tea on the stove and the burnt burner must have had a piece of pasta on it. I was sitting there day dreaming I was eating my favorite pasta ala olio. The long strands of spaghetti sliding around on my tongue. Brad came up behind me to place my tea on the table and I meant to say thank you, but all I could say is, “Pasta.”

Husband is frustrated. It isn’t his fault. He is like me, he isn’t used to it. He sat there after one of our brainstorming sessions and said, “I hate that we have to think about food this much.” It is so true. It feels like we are three and don’t know how to feed ourselves. He feels that he can’t get mad at how hard this is, so he ends up being grouchy at other times. Finally I sat him down and had him get it all out. That took about thirty minutes, and he felt better.

The good thing about my husband is how oddly encouraging he can be. I was at work and they bought the entire center pizza and soda. I texted the husband, “Talk me out of it.” He responded, “It’s triangles of death and heart palpitations in a can.” While I was laughing at this text another came through, “The pizza maker has a nose picking habit and the soda factory lost track of where their rat poison went.” I responded, “LOL.” Then another came through, “Someone stinky licked all the pieces and the soda cans.” Needless to say I didn’t eat any pizza. I felt that much effort for motivation should be rewarded by a positive result. He also called cookies pellets of death.

Supporting each other, listening, and loving each other, that is what is going to get us through.

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