Fourteen weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 311
- Blood Sugar: 104
And here’s another number I care about:
That’s the lowest my A1C has been since being diagnosed with diabetes over five years ago. More to the point, that’s within range for a non diabetic person. I had a follow up appointment with my PA last Friday and she said, depending on my A1C results, that she’d email me with instructions to contact my primary care guy and talk to him about reducing my medication. I’m expecting that email today (just got these test results), and I’m expecting an argument from my primary care guy. It’s been interesting discovering the competing viewpoints of him and my bariatric doctors. For the record I’m not 100% sold on the views of all my bariatric doctors, but I want to be rid of these damn meds, so I’m siding with them on this one. Reduction in dosage is a good step in the right direction.
I’m happy. I’m also buried under a mountain of fucking essays, but when you read an essay that’s well written and demonstrates that the student was listening to you, the feeling is pretty terrific. Grading still blows, but I love that feeling.
I need to get another picture taken. I don’t think it’s going to be as dramatic a difference as the last one (of me standing in the clothing store), BUT… the jeans I was wearing in that picture were size 48 in the waist. That same night, Annette bought a pair of size 44 as well because they were all cheap ($40…cheap as hell by my standards). I thought she was crazy. I’ve been able to wear them for a week now, and the 48s are so loose I can shove an entire arm in them. Which looks as creepy as it sounds.
Oh and I have a book coming out in two days. Man, life is a trip.
Here, have a graphic: