Sunday, January 17, 2010

Becoming Myself

"To see what is in front of one's nose needs a constant struggle."
George Orwell
As has been mentioned on here in the past, I am a diabetic.

A few months ago my medication was changed due to the old medication losing its effectiveness. This is known to happen in as few as 5-8 years for some people. I got just about 12 years. A pretty good run by all accounts.

As with any new medication, you start with a lower dose and then adjust it upwards until you find the right level. We, me and my doctor, started adjusting the dose up, having to adjust it very slowly due to possible adverse effects if done too fast. {Think diabetic collapse, necessitating an ambulance ride if I could even make it to the phone.}

To cut a long story short, the meds didn't work as expected.

It was helping, and was improving things to a certain point, but after that point the improvement in bloodsugar stopped. So we kept increasing the dose since we were well below to allowed maximum, and did not see any further improvement.

What I did see, but it took me a while to figure this out, was that it was causing other issues. Headaches, insomnia, nausea, lethargy, just to name a few. {I have some insomnia to begin with, this took me from 6-7 hours a night down to 4-5.} Generally speaking I became a rather large lump who was in constant discomfort, if not all out pain.

I also wasn't always thinking straight. On the worst days it was all I could do to make it through work.

So it took a while, but eventually I caught on to what was happening.

So we cut the dosage back, to about a third of what it had reached, and my bloodsugar is still at the same high-ish level, but the aches and pains have eased and I am starting to get my energy back. The insomnia still sucks, but I have hopes for that as well.

So my doctor is still looking for alternatives and I am trying to get back to feeling like myself. Which is happening. Slowly, but it is happening.

Happy New Year.

I don't know if anyone is still reading this, but it doesn't really matter. I have always felt that I was writing it for me, and not necessarily for anyone else. {Self-doubt still there but, like most everything else, improving.}


  1. Dude, I might not say much, but I'm still listening. I hope your Doc can get you on the right meds soon - this sounds awful.

  2. I think awful covers it. You know it's bad when you start hoping for a sharp pain somewhere just to temporarily cover up the constant dull aches.

  3. Still reading, still listening, bro. I'm glad you found the cause and that it's easing. I hope the doc finds some better alternatives.

    Hope to see you sometime this spring. Rev usually has a gig March-ish. With any luck, we'll be in a house and have the guest room set up again by then. You are always, always, welcome.