To hell in a handcart

When T and I went into hospital for the induction of the birth of B (12 days late and definitely in need of chemical eviction), I tried creamed cabbage. Oh My God it was lovely. Cabbagey creamy nutmeggy yumminess, and I wanted to share it with T as part of my attempts to be enthusiastic about his necessarily changed diet.

So Wednesday saw T going off to work as normal, and me staying at home with B.  We (I) had big plans for dinner involving the George,* some chicken, some roasted carrots and parsnips, and some of this creamed cabbage. Mmmmm.

In between running round and round after B (who can walk / sprint, but who is in constant danger of hurtling into / onto / through things that will hurt him), visiting the doctor myself, and receiving T's mum and step-dad for a flying visit (more on this later), I managed to par-cook the carrots and parsnips, and shred and cook the cabbage.

I thought that I could quite easily replicate the creamed cabbage I had by blending cabbage with yoghurt and a good grating of nutmeg. It took aaaages to blend, and when I finally tasted it, I found that I had replicated very well!

Unfortunately, what I had replicated was not the full and wholesome flavour of the creamed cabbage that I had eaten before, but the somewhat less wholesome flavour of bile. You know when you've been so sick that there is nothing left to come up and so evil tasting stomach juices are painfully hacked up your gullet instead? I managed to replicate that. Genius.

Mum had come to visit, so naturally, I offered for her to try it for herself.  I would have thought that seeing me spitting it out and heaving might have put her off, but dauntless gastrophile that she is, she was game and gave it a go.  Same reaction.

So I put some in a ramekin to save for T's dinner.

Now, about T's mum and step-father's visit.  I find it very hard to talk to T about his disease because I have read so much about it, and I don't know how much exactly he knows, or wants to know.  Ditto T's mum who seemed to be under the impression that Type 2 Diabetes isn't  serious as long as you don't eat sugar.  I told her some of what I'd learned and stressed that T is planning to be proactive in managing his condition. It's difficult because T himself doesn't have much information about how he has been affected already, and what to expect for the future.

Anyway. Dinner was abandoned at the point that I had a meltdown and seemingly dropped a bit of everything I tried to move.  I called our local curry house and got them to run through the menu with me to see what T could eat. And so, after B had gone to bed, we had Lamb Rogan, Tandoori Chicken, Chapatti, Bhindi Bhagee, and Pilau Rice. Since I thought that Bhindi Bhagee would be a bit like an onion bhagee, but made of whatever bhindi was, I ordered two of them.  It turns out that Bhindi Bhagee is okra (a green vegetable also known as Lady's fingers with a pretty, almost star-like cross-section) in a spicy sauce. Very yummy, but I think we should only have ordered one portion!

T had diet fizz with his, and I had water.  I hope that was an okay meal - who knows?!

In the evening, T broke the news to his dad, who he had been unable to reach by phone for a few days. Apparently (and unknown to him - otherwise he would have been to the doctors sooner), T's paternal grandmother and great grandmother were diabetics. T also told the younger of his two brothers (the only one with whom he speaks).  T said they took the news alright and were supportive.

I don't know, but I think that if it was me instead of T who had been diagnosed with Diabetes, I would feel embarrassed about it.  I don't think that there is anything to be embarrassed about, but I think it is one of those irrational feelings that would creep over me.

T's colleagues already know, and have been predictably merciless in their mockery - they refer to his food as being bird food, they've suggested that he will eventually chirp when answering the phone at work instead of speaking, and have been arguing over which of them will get to eat his share of office birthday cakes.

Perhaps I should make some creamed cabbage for him to take in to them.

*A George Foreman (spelling?) health grill, affectionately known as 'George', or 'the George', and from which (in our house) comes the verb 'to George' as in 'Let's George us some chicken!'

First face-to-face appointment

On Tuesday, T had an appointment to see the Doctor face to face for the first time since his telephone call with him on Friday.  He wanted me to go with him, so I did – I’m not sure whether work minded this, but since T wanted to be able to talk to the Doc and not worry about forgetting any questions, or making reams of notes, I was not going to do anything other than go to support him.

Beforehand, T dropped B over at my step-mum’s for the day (I was still going into work later), and meanwhile...

...I got out the food processer that my mum lent us aaaaaages ago to make food for B with. Naturally, it has been collecting dust (sorry mum), for a while so I chipped dusted it off, cleaned the bits and bobs, and set to work like a mad thing on the untamed vegetables that had been stuffed into every available space in the fridge and kitchen. 

I peeled carrots and parsnips, and then sliced some of them far thinner, and far faster than I could possibly have done by hand without losing a finger. I shredded some onions, and grated some more carrot, and I chopped some of the carrot and parsnip ready for roasting on Wednesday.  I steamed the parsnip, and some of the carrot slices, and made a mash of them in the food processor with a little butter. I let this cool, and put it in the fridge for later.

We went to T’s appointment.  T had made a list of things he wanted to ask;

• What can he eat / should he avoid? (just eat a healthy diet, avoiding sugar / processed carbs)
• How and when will testing be done? (he was given paperwork for another fasting glucose blood level, and a cholesterol test the next morning, and an appointment to see the Diabetic Nurse next Tuesday)
• Would the surgery support T trying out an extremely low calorie diet as suggested might be a cure by the research carried out by Newcastle University? (The doctor brought this research up and seemed amenable to the idea)
• When could T see the Diabetic Nurse? (Next Tuesday)
• When could T see a nutritionist? (That can be sorted out)
• Should T get his eyes / feet checked out? (Not yet)
• What was his blood glucose level? (Normal is 2-7 mmol*, his was 16 mmol)
• Should the DVLA / car insurance people / HR dept at his work be notified? (Not necessary, but it might be wise for him to tell his work because of appointments etc).

So, more fasting, more needles, and another week before some advice for him to manage this.  Happily, T found out that his regular doctor has a specialism in Diabetes.

For dinner, we had cottage pie made with some of the shredded onion sautéed in a little olive oil, a pack of lean beef mince, a couple of Oxo cubes, a handful of shredded carrot, and topped with the carrot and parsnip mash with a tiny bit of grated cheese on the top (and I mean tiny). No peas because B thinks that they are The End of the World for some reason.

T seems quite angry off and on. It would make me angry too – I am actually a bit angry by-proxy, but it’s hard to be angry with no direction for that anger.

Lunches so far for T have included; salad (made with beetroot and lettuce leaves from the garden, tomatoes, olives, and cucumber); sandwiches (ham and mustard on wholemeal bread); and wholemeal tortilla wraps (containing tuna salad and a teeny tiny smidgen of low fat mayo), along with fruit, and nuts to snack on if he felt peckish through the day. Running out of ideas now - we must get better as we are not convinced that ordinary bread is necessarily the best thing.**

It's awkward though since he has no idea which of the foodstuffs that are probably okay for him to eat in any lunch-sized quantities, actually are okay for him to eat.  Hopefully the Diabetic Nurse will be able to give T a better idea about his diet when she sees him on Tuesday.  T did ask the doctor to refer him to a nutritionist too, so he will have to wait and see whether that appointment materialises or not.

Oh gods, I do hope that if I get this new job that a) it comes with healthcare for T too, and b) that it covers pre-existing conditions.


*What is mmol, I wonder? Micro millilitres something, something? Online? No, surely not. One Litre? Nah. Must look it up.

**Evidently the treatment of carbs in controlling Diabetes is a matter of some contention in internet forums, and the NHS appear to give out advice that can guide people to eat more carbs than their bodies can tolerate.  According the internet (which cannot be trusted for all things, but I see no reason to doubt it in this), carbohydrate is broken down by the body into glucose, and the simpler the carbohydrate structure; the faster it can be broken down into sugar.  This causes a spike in the blood glucose level and is Bad News for health in general. Carbs in bread and potatoes apparently cause this spike effect and it would therefore be better, as I understand it, to try to limit their amount in the diet.

Trying to be normal

On Monday, I had an interview in the afternoon (redundancy, trying to find a new job, blah blah, not a good year so far, blah blah), so I was off work to prepare for it. I did not a lot except for that!

 

Later, after I had had my interview, I got home to find T looking after B and both of them were remarkably unfrazzled. T had already given B his dinner, and they were playing together in the lounge.  We spent the time until B's bedtime (usually 19:30 - 20:00) together, and then T took B up for his bedtime story and I dived into the kitchen to start dinner.

I worry that we need to be eating earlier to lessen the gap between T's meals. Oh there is so, so much we don't know.

Dinner consisted of lots of mushrooms and prawns marinated in some umami paste for about 30 minutes while I faffed around getting the rest of the stir-fry bits together.  We had wholemeal noodles, and a stir-fry mix with the prawns and mushrooms.  I added a glug of the soy sauce too.  I think that I am in love with umami paste - I just hope it's okay. There is no sugar in it, but I don't know about the carbs.

Worry, worry, worry, worry.

The first weekend

After the phonecall on Friday, T phoned me with the news that he has been diagnosed as being diabetic, and with the advice that he was given in the interim before seeing a medical professional for a face-to-face appointment).

On Thursday,  I had pre-empted the phonecall and got T some wholemeal bread and sugar free squash and fizzy drinks as well as some Sweetex.  I got him a low fat chicken salad sandwich, fruit salad and fruit juice for lunch, and we had something for dinner that was so boring I can't even remember what it was!On Friday evening, I got him a box of Oatibix because they were the only oat-based cereal I could get hold of at the time* so Saturday morning's breakfast was sorted.

On Saturday, we went out for the day - a tour around a historical town in Essex for the birthday of a good friend of ours.  We brought some nuts as a snack, and ate as healthily as possible (which meant sandwiches made with wholemeal bread and filled with tuna and salad).  T opted for steak and kidney pie in the evening - I'm not sure how good for him that was, but he seemed to enjoy it after hours of walking!

On Sunday we went shopping and replaced such things as our soy sauce (with low salt sauce, which also had lower sugar), baked beans, ketchup, Kelloggs Fruit & Fibre, and noodles, pasta, tortillas, and pitta bread (all replaced with wholemeal). We also brought half a trolleyfull of vegetables - and we intend to use them because we wrote a List, and The List Must Be Obeyed.

*I had read that oats are a good thing to eat (and so far T has yet to be persuaded of the benefits of porridge).

Diagnosing the disease appt. 2.5 (last Friday)

A couple of days later, T called the surgery to find out whether the results were back.  The receptionist thought that T would need to see the doctor, but she didn't know for certain and asked the doctor to give T a callback.

The doctor called him back and said that the results of the fasting glucose test showed that T is diabetic.

This didn't come as much of a surprise since his symptoms have been textbook, but it is possible to be shocked without being surprised.  And we were.

The only advice that the doctor gave T was that he should 'stop drinking fizzy drinks and try not to eat too much chocolate'. So very comprehensive then.  The doctor made an appointment to see T again on Tuesday (tomorrow), and T was then left to get on with it.

Diagnosing the disease appt. 2 (last Tuesday)

We were confused about the fasting glucose test because although the doctor had told us that T needed a non-priority ticket*, the paperwork that he had been given to take with him mentioned that patients having glucose tests needed an appointment.  T decided to follow what the doctor advised and attended the hospital the following morning for the test.

We dropped B off at my mum's house (she looks after him for some of the time while T and I go to work), and  arrived at the hospital at about 08:30.  Surprisingly to us, there were already about 25 people ahead of T in the queue.

The fasting glucose test required T to refrain from eating anything for a number of hours before the test, but he could still drink water.  We did wonder whether he would have to drink a glucose solution and have his blood taken a second time, but apparently that is a glucose tolerance test, not a fasting glucose test. That is the test that would have needed an appointment.

Anyway, T was seen relatively quickly, and we both went off to work.


*Our local hospital has a machine that dishes out tickets to those waiting to be spiked in much the same way that ticket machines dish out tickets at delicatessens to those waiting to purchase cheese.

Diagnosing the disease appt. 1

I didn't go with him as he is a big boy and we don't feel the need to hand hold all the time (marriage does that to you, peeps)!

The doctor listened to T's description of his symptoms and did a fingerprick test to check T's blood glucose level.*  Whatever the doctor saw worried him enough to send T off to have a fasting glucose test the following morning at our local hospital.


*Despite being a big boy, T has been complaining about this hurting off and on ever since, but I have a nasty feeling he may need to get used to it...

Where to start?

Obviously the best answer is 'at the beginning', but since I have no real idea when that was, I'll start in the place that most good stories do; partway in.

But I don't have a choice in that since that is where we find ourselves.

My husband is a diabetic.  We found out a few days ago, but he has been having symptoms of it for a year or more now. Hindsight = wonderful? I beg to differ.

We have a 16 month old toddler, so when he started to feel tired, we cited sleep deprivation. The extra drinking was mostly unnoticed since who on earth actually keeps track of these things? The weight loss was also put down to added  running around after said baby, and extra trips to the little boys' room was thought to be from perhaps having drunk more than usual that day.

It was only when we thought to consider a whole bunch of days together that we noticed a pattern and he decided to contact the doctor for an appointment.