Where does the good go

Fear, itself

A couple of years ago, I was eating pancakes with Alceste and Mary at the awesome pancake spot in Jersey City. We were on our way to read books to blind children in the Air Conditioned City. About 40 minutes into the drive, I noticed I just couldn’t keep my eyes open. The car was drifting and there was no awesome Poddy playlist or gossipy topic of conversation that could help. I pulled over and asked Alceste to drive.

I didn’t think anything of it, until it happened again. And then again. Anytime I’d eat anything sweet and delicious foodstuffs, I’d just about pass out thirty minutes later. I cured my insomnia with a bag of cookies every night.

About a year after that, a new symptom emerged. Tingling in my fingers and toes — this worried me. My grandmother had diabetes and my mother is pre diabetic (whatever that means) tingly toes SO sounded like the yellow brick road to foot removal. And then I googled it.

Sad panda.

Now, of course, the prudent thing would have been to go see a “doctor.” Instead, I decided that since google said it was *probably* diabetes, I would just go with that. Shut it.

So, what did your brilliant, double Ivy-League degree having hero do with this self diagnosis from Google M.D.?

Did she start eating vegetables and exercising? Oh no, of course not. THAT might have made sense. *YOUR* hero, on the other hand, decided that she would eat ALL the sugary, baked and frosted goods that she could BEFORE she eventually went to a doctor and got an official diagnosis. *AT WHICH POINT* she would start eating healthy and exercising… but UNTIL then, she would “enjoy” life. I stuffed my face with junk food, suffered painful extremities, and food comas for like a year and a half.

I got into a groove of living slightly better this year and finally went to see an actual doctor in November. And, seriously, I don’t know how people who smoke handle going to the doctor because OH MY GAWD the judgy looks you get when the doctor is all “and how long has this been going on” and you’re all “um…two years…give or take.”


I could NOT handle whatever looks they must give smokers.

So, I do the diabetes tests and it turns out that I don’t have diabetes, but I have a severe B12 deficiency which was causing pretty much ALL of my health maladies during the last few years from the tingling fingers to the insomnia! Dude. Seriously, I would have just died on the spot if I were born in the middle ages. Or in China. What with my allergies and asthma and vitamin deficiencies.

Oh, but my point… and I did have one… just go to the damn doctor, people.

6 Responses to “Fear, itself”

  1. Alceste Says:

    Hooray for no diabetes! And I guess we’ll have to start asking you if you’ve taken your multivitamin before we leave on our trips to read to the blind children.

  2. pearatty Says:

    Was this the doctor your mom warned you about?

  3. Pdov Says:

    Congrats on no diabetes! I get the same tingling and pretty much did exactly as you. Anyhoo, glad you’re alive!

  4. Ugarles Says:

    I have the same question as pearatty.

  5. Dawn Summers Says:

    hah. no, different doctors. i go to lots of doctors now. sadly.

  6. NumbBono Says:

    Take care of yourself, even though we didn’t get to talk too much earlier this month, seeing your smile makes me happy. Yep, you have one of those truly happy smiles that is contagious.

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