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Eggsceedingly frustrating

I’ve been having a really hard time controlling my afternoon blood sugars lately.

On Monday, during lunch, I decided I might have some luck if I do it low-carb.  Eggs have always been good for me – they are filling, and when it comes to blood sugars, they are predictable.

So when I went to the cafe downstairs at my office to order my lunch, I asked for a cheese-and-veggie omelette, expecting I’d have a good afternoon. I declined the toast that normally accompanies the meal (still being Passover, bread and bread-related products are off-limits anyway).

Well, no such luck. The simple combination of eggs, cheddar cheese, mushrooms, peppers, and onions sent my BG up high. Four hours (and several correction/rage boluses later), I’m still waiting to recover.

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The obligatory post about food

Image via user Contributorwiki on Wikimedia Commons

Image via user Contributorwiki on Wikimedia Commons

They say that March is National Nutrition month, which is a but awkward since I really have nothing to contribute to the discussion when it comes to nutrition. (Case in point: my breakfast on Sunday consisted of two Eggo waffles with sugar-free syrup, three strips of bacon, and coffee with a splash of whole milk — with a “Sell By” date of eleven days prior.  I also had a bacon-cheeseburger for dinner that night.)

But I do have something to say when it comes to food. Not as it relates to diabetes, but to allergies.

Both of my kids are allergic to milk, to egg white, and to peanuts. And though they seem to handle it well (the older one is seven, and the younger one – too young to understand or to care – is two. And while allergies and diabetes are radically different, there are a few similarities which hit uncomfortably close to home.

Like the “you can’t eat that” / “can you eat that?” discussions.

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Just for you

Holiday family meals always make me feel like I’m a contestant on The Newlywed Game. We laugh. We argue. Someone may inadvertently reveal a personal secret about another. Someone may get upset, another betrayed, yet another embarrassed.

But none of that matters. Because by the time the delicious(-looking) dessert is served, we’re up to the twenty-five point bonus question, worth twenty-five points, that makes everything that was said during the main course of the meal irrelevant. And, of course, my mother/grandmother/aunt/uncle presents me with the Grand Sugar-free Dessert, which they proudly exclaim, they prepared “just for you.”

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