Side Effects May Include...(Parental Guidance Suggested)

So, as I left off from my last blog post, by the end of April, beginning of May, I had started to see some really promising results in the combination of a low-carbohydrate meal plan and Metformin.  I had noticed my weight began to drop significantly, and blood sugar numbers were beginning to come down and normalize a bit.  I felt hopeful that my life was actually NOT going to end as a result of a diabetic coma or a stroke.  Maybe, I'd be able to live to see my grandchildren get married!  I was beginning to get some strength and vitality back, as well, walking every day and sleeping pretty well.

AND THEN...

"DUN-DUN-DUNNNNNN...

The side effects hit.  And they hit HARD.

(I apologize in advance for the TMI part of the blog.)

The first side effect that began to ravage my life was explosive, painful, bowel movements.  I call them "Bouts".  This is a common side effect of Metformin that no one told me about.  The consistency was that of chocolate pudding.  (Sorry, again).  It was like hot lava.  The bouts came out of nowhere, at all hours, without warning.  I literally would sit on the toilet for, sometimes up to, 30 minutes before the convulsions would subside.  The bouts would leave me drained and exhausted.  They had gotten so bad, that I had to always be conscious of my surroundings, making sure that there would be a toilet nearby, just in case the urge would overcome me.  This was particularly difficult at the middle school in which I worked.  I had to always make sure I knew where the closest bathroom was, or to make sure the nurse's office was within running distance to the classroom I was in.  Luckily, the teachers I worked with knew about my recent diagnosis and were very easy-going and kind to me if I had to leave suddenly, or if I had to go check my blood sugar.   There were those times, however, that these bouts reared their ugly-ass heads at extremely inconvenient circumstances. 

Case in point, my daughter's high school graduation. 

I had felt pretty good that day.  No bouts had showed up.  I went to work, came home, worked out, showered and got all dressed up pretty.  We got to the high school and sat down at the bleachers.  It was a gorgeous night, about 75 degrees, slight breeze, the whole stadium was abuzz with excitement.

AND THEN...

"DUN-DUN-DUNNNNNN..."

Like a bolt of lightning from the sky, my stomach started to scream at me.  The pain and cramping hit me like a freight train.  I had to go, and FAST!  What made matters even worse, was I had on three-inch wedges!  Imagine having to run down bleacher stairs in those things!  I thought I was going to break a foot, and have my gastrointestinal explosion right there in front of hundreds of people.  I started thinking to myself, as I finally made it to the bathroom injury-free, "Maybe I should start wearing Depends! Or buy stock in the company.  I'd be the best spokesperson!"  The good news is, though, my bout lasted only about 10 minutes, and I didn't miss any of the crucial parts of the graduation.  I was still able to see my daughter get her diploma on the podium, and all turned out well for the rest of the night.  Although, it still left me exhausted.

There were other times that the bouts showed up inconveniently.  Like road trips.  One particular road trip to my daughter's college we had to stop suddenly for me.  We stopped first at a Burger King.  CLOSED.  Then we arrived at a rest area.  But, it was too late.  By the time I got to the bathroom, well, let's just say I had to throw out my underwear.  The shit literally hit the fan, as it were.  After I cleaned myself up, I walked out of the bathroom with a balled-up pair of underwear wrapped in toilet paper in my purse, and asked the rest area attendant if he had a paper bag.  Looking at me sideways, he handed me one, I went back to the stall, put my underwear in the bag and threw it out in the feminine hygiene receptacle.   I was so embarrassed, but there was absolutely nothing I could do.   From that moment on, I always carried an extra pair of underwear wherever I went.   

Because of the violent nature of these bouts, and the exhaustion and pain I experienced from them, I began to notice they were taking a toll on me mentally, as well.  I started getting a little depressed, and started wanting to treat myself, comfort myself, with food.  Cake, pizza, ice cream.  Anything that would lift my spirits, give me a jolt of energy, give me peace, make me happy, anything.  I started to daydream about cheesecake.  My every waking thought was about cheesecake.  Could I buy it without anyone knowing?  Could I eat it in the car and throw away the container?  Sure, I could!  I just wouldn't check my blood sugar that day, no one would know!  I would fool them all!

But, I would know.  

And I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I gave in.  

So, I didn't.  I persevered, and moved on. 

Another side-effect of Diabetes that I also had no idea about was Diabetic Neuropathy in unexpected parts of the body.  Now, I was aware that high blood sugars, over time, could cause nerve damage.  Numbness and tingling in the extremities, especially the hands and feet.  What I didn't know, however, was that, in some cases, the nerve damage can mask symptoms of infections in other parts of the body.  Because there is nerve damage, you might not be able to feel pain.  Well, this was going to impact my life in a huge way, come to find out.

It was dinner time on a Thursday night in June, the graduation had come and gone, and I also was out of school for the summer.  My husband had bought one of those prepared rotisserie chickens that I so enjoyed.  I bit into a chicken wing.  SNAP!  What the hell?????  I ran into the bathroom, opened my mouth, and saw my front tooth was dangling from the root!  I screamed...actually almost fainted.  I called the dentist and left an after-hours emergency voice-mail.  Within an hour my dentist called me back, and got me an appointment for the next morning. 

Friday morning I went to the dentist, and he took some x-rays.  Years ago, back in 1989, I had a root canal in my front tooth due to an accident I had had when I was 5 years old.  Well, come to find out, the root canal had finally failed.  The infection had took hold, like, months before, and I had no idea.  My tooth had formed a crack that went all the way to the gum line.  Bacteria made its way in, and systematically ate away at my jaw bone.  Hence, the gum surrounding the tooth died, and my tooth became loose.  I FELT NONE OF THIS!!!  No pain, no discoloration, nothing.  THANK YOU, DIABETES!!!!   Later that week, I met with an oral surgeon.  Ultimately, I had four painful surgeries to rebuild my mouth.  Starting in August of 2018, and finally ending the day before Thanksgiving in 2019 with a new dental implant tooth.  He had to rebuild my jaw bone with bone graphs, repair my gum line and insert the dental implant post.   These surgeries were not only painful, but really tested my fortitude to stay on my meal plan, because I had to be put on a soft diet each time.  It was very difficult to find low-carb soft diet options.  I had to resort to eating bananas and soups, both of which were higher in carbs, but there was nothing I could do about it.  It wasn't like I could drink milkshakes and eat ice cream all day long!  I also couldn't exercise, because I was so beat up.  With the added stress of these surgeries, the pain and suffering, and the guilt I felt because of the unexpected economic impact it was having on my family, especially with one child in college, I could really feel the eating disorder once again trying to creep back in to my life.   "KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!  Here I am, again!  Let me in!"  I started to daydream about ice cream and cheesecake, again.  Screw it all, I thought to myself, especially at night while I was trying to sleep.  I could eat it!  I deserved it!  I just wouldn't test my blood sugar that day and there would be no record of any wrongdoing!  No one would know!  I would fool them all!

But, I would know.

And I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I gave in.

So, I didn't.  I persevered and moved on.

I am proud to say, looking back, I never gave in to my eating disorder.  I believe experiencing and ultimately journeying through these painful, horrible, debilitating side effects, elevated me to even higher levels of strength and courage, reserves deep within me that I never knew I had.  Knowing I am strong, knowing I am capable, knowing I am worthy of health, has sustained me throughout this journey and will, I am sure, sustain me for a lifetime.

Thank you for reading this post! Please find me on Instagram, as well!  I will be finishing up my "New Leslie Sansone daily DVD challenge" this week on IGTV.  Stay tuned!

Have a great week, and stay safe!

Be a butterfly...🦋

Me, 25 pounds lighter, in June, 2018

Me, sans front tooth!