So I went in for my usual 3 month check-up thing and prescription update, which has become part of my life as a diabetic. At least, a diabetic who doesn't want to wake up one morning missing a random extremity. I like my extremities. They're my favourite bits.
This time however, was somewhat different. My doc oooh'ed and aaah'ed over these arcane looking graphs on the computer screen, gushing over my 'numbers', saying that he seldom saw numbers this good in a diabetic. He went so far as to say that I could even cut down on my pill intake if this kept up. Then he pushed me onto some scales and promptly told me that since I'd last seen him 3 months ago, I'd lost 12 kg.
12 kg! That's like a big bag of spuds! Those things are heavy! Where did this weight go? Did I leave it laying around somewhere? Is there a gelatinous lump of Dan-fat quivering on the sidewalk, undulating back home as we speak? It's a mystery.
...I love that word. Undulating. Go on, say it. It's a deliciously saucy word, isn't it?
So yeah. I'm a pretty happy camper, and my motivation has received a considerable boost. I just need to keep an eye out for that rogue Dan-fat, in case it tries to ambush me with cake and pie.
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