Today I closed The Feral Pages. I didn’t want to but my diabetes has spiraled out of control.  I tested at a serum glucose of 575 recently. That number is supposed to be down around 80 to 110.  I was teetering on the edge of a diabetic coma.  I’m only 41. I was diagnosed when I was thirty. I weighed 315 pounds. That summer I dropped 65 pounds and I deluded myself into believing that I was cured because my blood sugars were in control. I stopped exercising, gained 25 pounds and resumed the Hell of high blood sugars. I have trouble with diabetes meds. They either cause crashing lows or severe abdominal pain. I decided I couldn’t tolerate the symptoms anymore and went off all my meds. I dropped another 35 pounds and voila! My blood sugars were normal again. That was three months ago. I got sick, whether it was H1N1 or just the seasonal flu. I was out of commission for two solid weeks. When I’m sick I have a hard time giving a shit about anything and just fell back into my old eating habits. I’ve gained 11 pounds since then and my blood sugars are now the worst they have ever been.

The treadmill is downstairs. The home gym is being delivered this week.  This time it needs to stick. Dying isn’t an option. I’m saving that for later, much later.

On the positive side of things, my first novel is nearing completion. My second is a chapter in already and I started taking notes for #3.