I am supposed to have an annual medical at work. Recently I had my first annual medical for 8 years. This is not to say that I have been lapse and missed them, it's more a case of my job hasn't been bothered to do them. This has never really concerned me, as despite rapidly approaching middle age I have always considered myself to be in rude health. In fact I last saw my doctor (now retired) in 2001, and that was only to issue him a speeding ticket on the bypass. Before that I saw him in 1997 when I moved house and changed practice and only because he insisted on a well man check before he would accept me. Presumably if I had been ill, he would have rejected me as a patient. That's how the National Health Service works I suppose.
Anyhow, other than visits for a sick note after breaking some ribs (twice) and to arrange a vasectomy I haven't placed too much of a burden on him. I haven't had the need, as I generally feel fine. I don't get headaches, migraines, stress, back pain, football cup finals or anything else that I might need to see the doctor for.
So I was surprised when the medical at work threw up a problem. I live a sort of healthy lifestyle, to a certain value of health. I drink too much but less than most Doctors, I don't smoke and I exercise a little less than I ought too - cycling occasionally and hiking regularly with occasional hours in the gym.If it's a short trip I walk rather than take the car, I use the stairs rather than the lift because I know it's good for my long term knee injury and I carry shopping if it's less than a basketful instead of using a trolley. I also park in the empty farthest recesses of the supermarket car park and walk instead of parking by the door. So, I'm not sedentary but not a gym monster either. I also eat reasonably healthily, with some fruit and veg, chicken and fish and rice and pasta but also enjoy a juicy blood filled steak as well. I often skip meals and if I'm busy I forget to eat all day or just don't have time.
I expected to be told I was overweight, with high blood pressure, stress and the life expectancy of a Mayfly, simply because most of the rest of my team had been told the same.
My weight didn't cause any comment, my eyesight was fine even with my reading glasses on the desk instead of on my face, and my hearing was better than expected for my age. My blood pressure, I was told, was disgustingly healthy. And my resting heart rate was almost undetectable, barely ticking over. I was however dangerously dehydrated and showing excess sugar in my urine. I laughed this off as being down to the two mugs of coffee and the large bacon and mushroom bun I had eaten just prior to going into the medical. Yes, I know, not part of a healthy diet, but it was a 10 a.m. appointment, I'd been up since 5.30 and hadn't eaten breakfast. Besides which, it is part of the image I like to promote, poking fun at authority. Turning up for the medical with a bacon banjo in one hand and a steaming mug of sweet Joe in the other does normally provoke a reaction. And the dehydration thing is down to having little opportunity to stop either for a drink or to use a toilet, combined with working 10 hours wearing a flak jacket that weighs as much as a small child. It makes you sweat a little and you dehydrate.
Anyhow I was told, in no uncertain terms, to go see my doctor. Urgently. I might be diabetic.
The NHS, I discovered, don't do urgent. Well, casualty does, in a fashion, although not like "Casualty" on the TV. No on ever shouts "stand clear" or "Doctor Bon Jovi to Resus" when I'm in there. GP's surgeries certainly don't do urgent. You need to know a fortnight in advance if you are going to be ill so you can arrange an appointment. And then you have to take time off to fit in around all the retired and unemployed patients.
So, a fortnight later I got to speak with a Doctor. A nice girl, but I couldn't help but wonder if her mum knew she was using her office. Anyhow, she arranged for me a fasting blood test and a few days after that I rushed straight in and blood was taken. The results I was told, would be available in a week. Yes, another week. This is urgent of course. Now, my non blood related uncle has been a diabetic all his life. I know for a fact he has a little electronic device on which he pricks his finger and in seconds it tells him his blood sugar levels. He'd be knackered if it took a week. Why should it take a week? I could take it to the laboratory myself, and do the test in a couple minutes.
I was informed that if the test result was high, I would find out sooner, and they would make arrangements for a Glucose Tolerance Test. This I was told, involves another blood test, followed by a drink of Lucozade (other brands of glucose based drinks are available) followed by a two hour wait and another blood test. And the results would be available in a week. Or sooner if they were high. The appointment for this test has been made for next week. So it will be roughly seven weeks before I learn my fate. Urgently. Ha!
I do have a slight problem with this though, Firstly they have arranged the appointment without consulting me for 9 a.m. so that I can fast for 12 hours beforehand, i.e overnight. Very considerate of them, except I am on nightshift and would normally eat between 3 and 4 a.m. Secondly I have to hang around the surgery for two hours between tests. Well, I hope they don't mind me snoring, as I will, because I will have been at work all night. Thirdly, I was given Lucozade once as a kid when I was ill. It made me even more ill, because it makes me vomit. I cannot stomach Lucozade - there is too much sugar in it, which is why I have never drunk it since. I genuinely fear I will embarrass them in their own surgery.
In the meantime I have been reading up a bit about diabetes just in case. All I knew previously was that if a diabetic goes into a coma you give him a barley sugar sweet. Because we all carry barley sugar sweets don't we? What are they living in, an Enid Blyton Novel?
It turns out that if I am diabetic it will be type 2 diabetes. I think this means I cannot eat Volkswagen Camper vans. If I do not adapt to it I can look forward to going blind and deaf, my legs falling off, erectile dysfunction, depression (presumably because of the erectile dysfunction) dementia, strokes, heart attack and eventual death. Damn, and I was so trying to avoid eventual death. These could of course come in any order. Death usually prevents the others taking place though.
I don't mean to make light of diabetes, but what else is there to do? I need to change my diet and loose weight, and exercise more. But we all know that, diabetic or otherwise. It's easy to say on paper, but in reality when the cake hits the fan you can't help yourself. Okay, when my legs do fall off I'll loose weight, but that kind of limits the exercise thereafter.
Hopefully I am "pre-diabetic" and can avert the full blown condition by lifestyle changes. But if I can't I luckily have someone else to blame. Both my parents are type 2 "late onset" diabetics, and the chances of me being the same are about 70%, so it's their fault, not mine. Maybe I can claim compensation.
The one silver lining appears to be that alcohol consumption actually reduces sugar levels in the body. So, I'll drink to that then.
To be continued "urgently," once my results are known.
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