From patient of the month to the A1C poster child

  The trip to the doctor’s office resembled Groundhog Day. Two years ago, my long-term blood sugar, A1C, had climbed to a risky 9.0. After she delivered that grim number, I worked to cut out carbohydrates and sweets and reduced the number to 6.2.

   My doctor was ecstatic. I joked that I should be “Patient of the Month’’ with a matching latex balloon; she agreed.

   The air came out of the balloon last week and it landed on the exam  room floor. I got the latest reading – 8.2. Another dark day. I was right back where I was two years ago, in the middle of the risk pool for men ages 60-69 with diabetes.

    The average man – 5-foot-9, 201 pounds – has a Body Mass Index (BMI) of 29.9-30.5. At 6-4 and 223 pounds, I’m below that at 27.14. But hidden behind that solid number lurks my A1C, out of sight in my bloodstream.

   It cued my doctor to remind me that a high A1C makes me 20 times more susceptible to a stroke or heart attack. I’m the one-in-10 person – 38 million Americans – with Type 2 diabetes. If I don’t manage it, Type 2 will exacerbate kidney failure and neuropathy, and compromise my vision.

  I still recall her warning from two years ago.

     “Look, you’re Type 2 diabetic, you’ve had two heart stents and your A1C is 9.0,’’ she said. “You’ve got to get that number down. You have to cut down on the carbs. You’re only a cholesterol glob away from having it land in those stents, then you’ll suffer a stroke or heart attack.’’

   Her parting gift was to hand me a prescription for Ozempic. I had gone off the drug once I had corralled my A1C, but now I was having another Groundhog Day moment, and back in line at the pharmacy. Moments later, the clerk handed me a bill for $400. Getting lazy about your diet had become expensive. I just squandered a week’s worth of officiating  checks.

  Type 2 diabetes is not a disease; it’s a condition. My pancreas doesn’t make enough insulin to keep up with the demand. I can ease that with medications and cutting down on the foods that contain sugar. Public Enemy No. 1 is bread, not to mention that I have the family gene that makes me a sweettooth.

   I inherited that from Fran Holleran, the former Morristown athletic director. He was known for circling the living room in the evening, doling out squares from a giant Hershey bar. When he passed, his six children bellylaughed over the discovery in the sick call set, a fixture in Catholic homes. This crucifix covered a small compartment with two small candles and holy water to perform Anointing of the Sick. When we opened the set, Coach had ditched the contents and hidden a candy bar there.

  Even though I play full-court basketball three mornings and referee four nights a week, my solid BMI only conceals my weakness for late-night junk food in front of the TV. Swedish Fish. Milk Duds. Sour Patch Kids. Caramel corn. Potato chips. My latest scourge is Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter Cup ice cream. If I wasn’t so active, I’d be the next John Candy or Fatty Arbuckle or Fluffy.

   I took the initial steps at the supermarket to change my diet. I made myself walk down the frozen foods aisle and sneered at the ice cream. I walked past the donuts. I didn’t flinch when I strolled by the candy displays and saw the Four Horsemen of My Apocalypse; they were lined up like tombstones (bad reference) – Sour Patch Kids, Swedish Fish, Hot Tamales and Milk Duds.

   I ate three soft tacos for lunch with fewer carbs than four slices of bread. The last two days I’ve eaten salads for lunch.

    Remember Steve Austin from The Six Million Dollar Man? “We can rebuild him.’’ Well, I don’t want to become the Six Dollar Referee.

     Like everyone else in my demographic, the longer between doctor’s appointments, the more your discipline wanes. I’ll need a booster shot of willpower so I can become Mr. 6.0 A1C.

        Morristown native Jim Holleran is a retired teacher and sports editor from Rochester. Reach him at jimholleran29@gmail.com or view past columns under “Reflections of River Rat’’ at https://hollerangetsitwrite.com/blog/