The road to adulthood is filled with moments that define what kind of person you become: your first fist fight, your first kiss, your first minor felony. Since most of the aforementioned defining moments occured while I was looking the other way, I was in desperate need of a “coming of age” moment that would herald in the age of adulthood. As is usually the case with me, when I was presented with such a moment, it was not without a hitch.
A few weeks ago, I was diagnosed with Impaired Glucose Tolerance (IGT); which is just a fancy way of saying “You don’t have diabetes yet, but you’re just as screwed. Hand over the ice cream, chubs.”
As a result, I have to closely monitor my blood sugar level two times a week. Owing to the fact that my mother’s a full-fledged diabetic, we have one of those DIY glucose monitoring thingies (henceforth referred here as the THINGAMAJIG). It basically works like one of them home pregnancy tests, but instead of peeing on it you get to bleed on it.
Continue reading ‘Biting the Needle’
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