After coming this close to slipping into a diabetic coma and losing the better part of five days before being rescued by my doctor, I had little choice but to quit smoking. I had no money for food, let alone very expensive smokes. This lasted for six months, until last weekend when circumstances, like having no food in the house and getting little from the food bank, I discovered my desperately needed cheque had gone in early on Saturday morning. I could sense my stress level was off the charts, so I decided to celebrate with a pack of smokes. Although overwhelmed with the guilt of it all I figured after six months that I would cough my guts out and hate the taste. No such luck! It was nirvana! I could feel a sense of calm come over me immediately. Oh well, I figured, one pack and I’d quit again. No money for smokes, that was for sure.
Some background on my sugar levels – when I nearly bought the farm my sugars were in the upper thirties. Anyone who knows anything about diabetes knows this is well above the danger levels. Thanks to my doctor and the pharmacist who went together on getting me my insulin, my sugar levels started coming down, but they still weren’t good. After very thorough tests at the diabetic specialist they upped my insulin and kept me on my meds as well. Still my sugars never got much better than mid teens, sometimes as high as lower twenties. Everyone, including me, was frustrated that nothing seemed to work to get me under ten, which was the goal.
Here’s the interesting and crazy part. The day after buying smokes I made a morning pot of coffee, something I hadn’t had since quitting back in December, because of the instant lifetime association of starting every day with coffee and a smoke. I sat out on my balcony, coffee in one hand and a smoke in the other, as God intended (that’s why he gave us two hands), happy as a pig in you know what. Life was as it should be.
As I do every morning now I tested my sugars. To my considerable surprise it was 8.8, the best reading I had ever had. I figured there was something wrong with my meter, but a couple of hours later, after eating breakfast, when levels are usually elevated, my next reading was 8.9! Curious, I tested more frequently than normal the rest of the day, all with readings in the eights. After a rare treat of a fudgsicle, which should have put me in the twenties, I was again shocked to see a 9.2, not much higher than before. Over the last few days the readings have not changed. They’ve been the lowest since those thirties back in December.
So, what’s the only change in my life? Diet? Nope, in fact I’ve had some rare sugar laden treats. Exercise? Nope, other than my normal walking with the bus routes. I was planning to bike, but the weather has not been great until recently. The only change is drinking my coffee again and smoking. I’ve actually written to Benson and Hedges to suggest a clinical study, of course with them providing me cigarettes. lol
Even more telling might be that I just enjoyed my last smoke and I have no money for any more. Dumb as it may sound, I wish I could keep smoking so I could get rid of the twenty-five pounds I gained not smoking. This has been more harmful to my health than anything. I’ve lost my energy. I can’t bend down to tie up my shoes. I’m sleeping more. I feel like crap. So much for feeling better not smoking.
In fairness I’ll report on my sugar levels over the next few days, but if they now go back up not smoking, well, it’s going to get interesting at least.
Yes, and I know that at least one person who might read this is going to give me proper hell for smoking again. She’s a cancer survivor so I don’t blame her for her scorn. I thought of her when I took my first puff, but it didn’t stop me. lol