GOOD TIMES AHEAD, RIGHT?

Those of you who long ago in days of yore read Pilgrim's Progress may remember his struggle with places like the Slough of Despond, the Hill of Difficulty, the Valley of Humiliation and his growing discouragement in the company of characters with revealing names like Adam the First, Mr. Despondency, Much-Afraid, The Flatterer, and Mrs. Fearing. Each place and encounter has its effect on poor Christian during his journey to the Celestial City, and it ain't a happy ride.

You might have noticed I haven't posted much lately as I just have not had much to say nor the will to say it. It a lack of focus and a feeling of not getting traction in the tasks of life. I feel my wheels are spinning, and my fate (beginning tomorrow) is sealed. It comes down to not being able to get a grip on controlling my diabetes.

I was supposed to see the doctor three months ago for routine A1c testing, but I knew my weight was up, my blood sugar numbers were soaring, my blood pressure was high, and I was feeling generally crummy and unmotivated. I wanted to do better before I saw the doctor, so I skipped going in, because I didn't want to face the music. (Insert here a loud, dark, Gothic, descending run on a thundering organ, a la a Jules Verne movie or a Wagner opera, and draw that last low note out long and heavy...)

Is it my concern based solely in fear? despair? dread? Yeah!, almost certainly. But I finally scheduled the long delayed visit, went in last Friday to have blood drawn (more dark organ music) for multiple panels/tests/studies, and I face the appointment tomorrow afternoon. Why all the drama?

I am convinced that the good doctor is going to scold me, berate my failure, tongue-lash me soundly, and put me on daily insulin shots. Bah! Humbug! He will tell me it is for my own good, and insist I lose weight (I would like to do that), to adopt a suitable diabetic diet (I'm not too keen on this idea), and to resume regular exercise (and I don't think nine holes of golf weekly will satisfy him). I'm way too busy and interested in other things than to eagerly accept such distraction into my routine, but... I must.

Bottom line: I am discouraged about my lack of discipline, my inability to manage weight and numbers, and my failure to maintain control of my health, and I'm depressed.

Nevertheless, (deep breath and meaningful pause) because I love my wife and kids and grandkids, I will submit so I can continue to take care of them, which I hope I have been doing better than I have been caring for myself. And maybe as a side benefit, the doctor can recommend something to relieve the constant pain in my feet so I can hobble around without hurting at every step.

Like the Pilgrim, I am struggling not only with the journey, but with being mortal.

But things are looking up.... Aren't they???