Jacob and I took this week off. We were originally going to take a road trip to Savannah, GA to visit my sister but we 86th that plan when she and her husband started having issues (that’s an entirely separate blog post that will be written soon). Instead, we opted to have a relaxing staycation that would involve deep cleaning the entire house plus visiting Jacob’s parents in Oklahoma for a couple of nights. So really, relaxing is the absolute WORST word to describe this week. Busy. Dusty. Whatever.
On Tuesday afternoon we took Avery to the McDonald’s play area since we knew she would feel deprived of social stimulation and exercise this week. We opted to keep her home while we cleaned (Jacob’s idea) so she was bored and restless.
Fuck. This post isn’t going to be funny at all.
At McDonald’s I had their only vegetarian option, a Caesar salad minus the chicken, while Jacob and Avery had chicken nuggets, apple slices, and fries. This is actually not important at all. I’m failing at this. Bear with me.
After we were finished eating Avery kicked off her shoes and joined the other toddlers in the pirate ship-shaped play area. And I went to the bathroom and peed.
About seven minutes later I had to go again.
And…. again. And it started to feel uncomfortable. Like I constantly had to go and even after I used the bathroom I immediately needed to go again. I told Jacob that I think that something’s wrong so I reached out to Twitter and was informed (I have the absolute smartest followers on Twitter) that I probably had a urinary tract infection (UTI). Fuck. Really? I told Jacob and he said that I was probably just drinking too much water and was feeling bloated but I knew that it was something else. I made a doctor’s appointment for that afternoon. I don’t play around with this shit. If I think that I’m sick then I high-tail it to the doctor.
After peeing in a cup and having my blood pressure and temperature taken my doctor tells me that I tested positive for a UTI. Awesome. Fuck. FUCK. She writes me a ‘script for antibiotics and then looks at my records. She noticed that I came in for a gnarly yeast infection earlier this year. I told her that in the past year I have been getting them constantly and I was worried that it was because of my vegan-then-vegetarian diet. She asked if I ate yogurt and I told her that I am not a fan of yogurt. She recommended probiotics in the form of a pill. I can do that. Thanks, doc!
She suggested that I get some blood work done because my constant yeast infections and now a UTI point to me possibly having… diabetes.
I sank. This is not what I wanted to hear. Sure, I haven’t been eating as well I should lately, but at the beginning of this year I was eating uber-healthy and I even ran two 5k races! How could I have diabetes? Oh, that’s right. I’m fat and it’s genetic. Thanks, Dad! I got your red hair, your temper, and now this.
Until my blood work is done we won’t know for certain if I actually have diabetes but it has definitely shaken me. My in-laws got doughnuts for breakfast this morning and I didn’t eat a single one. Of course, we haven’t told them yet so they probably thought that I was sick or losing my mind.
All I know is that regardless of the outcome of the tests I am getting back on track with healthy living. And so is my family. So, Jacob, say goodbye to your Dr. Pepper. You drink it like you’ll die tomorrow and someday you’ll actually be right.
I’m getting my blood work done tomorrow afternoon. I have to fast from midnight tonight til my appointment at 2pm tomorrow. That’s 14 hours without eating! I can drink water and black coffee so that should trick my stomach into thinking it’s full for a little while. And of course I’ll come back with an update. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.