A handful of weeks ago, I came back from a vacation in Las Vegas thirsty the entire flight home. I proceeded to purchase and drink massive amounts of thirst quenching drinks like Gatorade, but it never really seemed to get better. At the time I’d also started to prepare a diet full of foods that were gluten free. You see, while on vacation, my doctor’s office had called me to say that my test results were back, and it turns out I was allergic to wheat. The idea of switching to an entirely gluten free diet was kind of a daunting task for me. Life changing, I thought. Life changing was just getting started for me, as it turned out. A couple of days after getting home I became sicker, and sicker, and finally went to the emergency room where I was diagnosed as a diabetic with a blood sugar level of 544. Talk about a double whammy.
Faced with the prospects of a strict eating schedule, along with shots of insulin 4 times a day, all now being truncated by the threat of having wheat in any of these meals, was kind of a shock to me. It’s taken me several weeks to get use to the idea and the motions, but use to it I have become. I’m alive, so I can say, and my life remains for the most part unaffected. What I thought was a terrible disease seems par for the course now.
It also seems a lot less serious when you think of some of the other diseases out there. Sure, everyone’s aware of cancer. But what if you were to go to the doctor and discover that your connective muscle tissues were turning into bone, there was no cure, and the older you grew the more restricted your life would become as you became encased in a prison made of your own second skeleton?