Wilford

One of the things that happens when you eat like an out of control toddler, then get the particular style of chemo I have been stuntin’ is you can rocket yourself straight into diabetes, as I have evidentally done.

Last week my heart rate started shooting up to 120-130bpm and sat there buzzing away no matter how hydrated I was or what I was doing physically. After a couple days of hummingbird impersonation I saw a bunch of medical professionals to make sure my ticker wasn’t going to explode (nothing imminent) and got a bunch of tests.

Between my glucose being 240something at my last clinic visit and then my A1C being 7.4 this weekend it looks like if you see me walking around on Easter with a peep in my hand, slap me. Not just because peeps are gross, but because my body just can’t handle it anymore. It just means that all the sweetness in my life needs to come OUT of me instead of going IN to me.

Secondary diabetes is apparently not unusual given the various steroids and chemotherapy drugs I have been on for the past 8 months (tomorrow!) and it may pass, though even if I am lucky and it does I will always be more suseptible for as long as I am around.

My Oncologist is happy I told them, and also happy my PCP is so thorough and followed-up with more testing, and my PCP is happy I am not dipping thin mints in potato soup anymore, and I am happy to be here, so it all works out. I get to meet some new folks in Cardiology and I also get to try and make a Dietician happy in the very near future. I love making people happy.

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