After my shock news about being diabetic exactly a week ago tonight, I can confirm that I’m actually no further forward with the diagnosis. Flashback to last Friday, exactly 7 days ago to the minute, I’m sat at home, holding a box of tablets, with instructions that may have been written in Swahili. I wasn’t sure of their purpose, but obviously, Mr. Doctor at the “One Life Centre” knows best…
Saturday was a day that had been planned for a while, long before I’d got the shitty news, me and Jamie S were going to go to Birmingham. This didn’t happen, however, as Jamie S pointed out… “Just leave Birmingham for this week. Your gunna have the epicest of shitty ons either way :p just go somewhere totally random and localish tomorrow”
Randomish and local were indeed the order of the day, so we ended up in… erm, Blackpool. Not exactly local, but certainly randomish. The journey was dominated by one thing… rain, and lots of it. It seemed like the only time it stopped was when we were at the M6 service station. I can’t remember the name of it, but it’s got a huge lake out of the back of it, and it’s not Tebay.
I requested we stop there, because it was the only place I knew of that sold the sublime Ginster’s Spicy sausage roll. At £2.45, they weren’t cheap, but they were ludicrously delicious. I had to watch what I was eating after all, and considering I was “on tablets”, I had to watch my sugar levels. This was also my first, and last experience with diet Cherry coke. I believe it to be Satan’s urine. Truly awful.
We made it to Blackpool, and first stop was the hotel that Jamie S stayed in for a week a few years ago. I have no idea why we went down this way, but he took a photo of it. See, I told him, everything needs a photo. Next stop was the candy rock shop where you can actually see it being made. Yeah, a great stop for a “diabetic”. I could have dived head-first into the Aniseed rock, but I was a good boy, and stayed off the sugar for the entire day.
Jamie had always wanted to see Madame Tussauds, so we had a walk along to see how much it was. I think it was something like £15. By this time, it was mid-afternoon, and they closed at 5, so we said we’d go back if we had time. These tablets were burning a hole in my pocket, and I knew what food had to be consumed before I could take them, therefore I googled the nearest Nando’s. Turns out it was just about 100 yards away from where I was stood. Bonus.
Chicken was consumed, and tablet was taken. Me, being the pessimist, I waited for the side effects to kick in. Thankfully, they didn’t, and despite getting ever so slightly soaked, the rest of the day was spent looking around the shops, and oddly, I came away with no CDs, yet Jamie came away with several. Highly unusual. We made a slight detour up the M6 to Penrith, where we stopped and devoured a KFC.
Sunday came, and although we’d vowed to have a nice, relaxing day doing our own thing, within minutes, Jamie was on the phone, asking if I fancied going to Newcastle? Well, do wild members of the ursine family of mammals defaecate in large forest-like areas? Oddly, I felt shitty. I don’t know whether it was these wanky tablets doing stuff to me, or whether something else was going amiss. I felt better after a Maccy D’s (Yeah, that’s right, three fast food places in two days. Living the unsweetened dream). Unfortunately, it was tablet time again, but, once again the side effects stayed away. While Jamie devoured a twirl and a can of red bull, I had to make do with a bag of shitty apple chunks from Boots, and a bottle of water. Sigh. This time, I came away with a couple of CDs and records – I’d raided the charity shops. I haven’t played them yet, as my record player is disconnected.
Back to work on Monday, now unfortunately, it’s been a little quiet at my new employment place, so there’s not much data needing entering, therefore I was handed a paintbrush and a set of overalls – 4 of us were told to paint the kitchen and a few other places. Let me just say that I will NOT be offering my services as a painter / decorator any time soon. It was different, but it’s another thing I can add onto the pile of things I’m completely shit at.
This only lasted for a few hours, as I had to make an appointment at the doctors for some time on Monday, to see if I can find out just what the hell was going on. I went in, and showed the doctor the metformin tablets I’d been put on. She looked at me as if I’d stood in shit. “Who gave you these?”, she asked, in a manner suggesting that I’d “found them” on the “street corner”. I explained the whole of Friday’s shennangans, and she took them straight off me. I actually didn’t need them at all. Or at least, not yet anyway. Instead, she made two appointments. One for today (Friday), to get another blood test taken after 12 hours fasting, and another one in a few days. She also told me the one thing I’d been expecting to hear the whole time… stop drinking! Therefore, I’m officially off the sauce for three whole months. I can also see these three months being the hardest ones of my life, and not for any of the reasons I’ve documented here, or are likely to any time soon..