ramtops

2011: living in mortgaged 2 bedroomed (but reasonably sized) urban terraced house in Kingston-upon-Hull in the East Riding of Yorkshire, with husband Pete and five cats. Working as a web developer in our own small webdev business.

2001: living in rented 3 bedroomed (but too small) 1970s terraced house in Long Ashton, just outside Bristol, with (I think) eight cats.[edit: no - it was nine!] Married to and working with Pete as above.

1991: single mum living in mortgaged small terrace house in Great Yarmouth, working with first husband in small bespoke accounting software and network installing company (which we started after we divorced in 1985!).

1981: stay at home mum living in mortgaged large terraced house remarkably like this one, but split into three bedrooms upstairs, in Leicester. Was working on Saturdays at BHS as a supervisor. Two cats, I think.

1971: living in Perth, Scotland, with alcoholic single father in MoD 4 bedroom detached house of grandeur and deep unhappiness. Although I might have been at my convent boarding school on the day; that was full of grandeur and deep unhappiness too.

1961: living in rented 3 bedroom mansion flat inFitzgeorge Avenue, West Kensington, London with two deeply unhappy parents who loathed each other. The memories are still strong. I think I was at St Paul’s prep school then – they really did have ideas above their station and budget.

Was not even a twinkle in 1951, but as you can see, I am Very Old.

Mirrored from kestrel.org.

I bought this Hobbs skirt from eBay – I’ve never had Hobbs before, but now there’s so much less of me …

It’s arrived, it’s gorgeous, it’s a size 14.  And it’s *too big*! But it’s so lovely, and cost a fiver including postage, that I’m going to have it altered.

Mirrored from kestrel.org.

Here, just for my own benefit, are the results of the blood tests I had on 21st April:

Now to find out what it all *means*.

Mirrored from kestrel.org.

A trip to the doctor this morning to get the result of my blood tests shows an HbA1C result of 10.6 (it should be 7). So I am now officially diabetic. Curiously, this actually comes as something of a relief, as now I know for sure, I can keep on doing something about it – I’ve lost 8lbs in 6 weeks so far, feel far fitter, sleep better and *look* better, so I shall keep on keeping on with the diet and exercise.

Apparently my cholesterol levels are a bit high too, but that’ll drop with the weight, hopefully.

She offered me Metformin, knowing full well I’d already said I didn’t want it (yet), and for now is happy-ish for me to manage things myself.  Using a practice set in the middle of what passes for Hull’s intellectuals (lots of university folk live in the Avenues), she said she’s used to patients being well informed :)

I’m booked for another set of blood tests on 21 July, so we’ll see how things are progressing there. I got a free glucose meter from Bayer last week, but the PCT won’t pay for its strips and lancets, as they’re too expensive, so that was a waste (unless I fund them myself). However, I don’t really need it yet, and if I do, I’ll spring for the bits.

Note for self: if I don’t get on with Metformin, when I need to start taking it, they’ll move me onto delayed release? Metforming, which works better, but is more expensive to the PCT; no problem with that scenario.

So it’s carry on regardless, I guess – eating well, getting plenty of exercise (doing lots of leafleting for the LibDems at the moment, which is quite hard work).

I see the nurse next Wednesday, have an appt at the retinopathy clinic tomorrow, and am starting to feel that it’s all taking over my life a bit, but I suppose it’ll all settle down.  To celebrate, I ate two *white crumpets* with Marmite for breakfast – my bad.

Mirrored from kestrel.org.

Saturday was quite lazy really; Pete manfully cycled firstly into town, to fetch more oats and ingredients to make muesli, and then with his trusty bike trailer to Pets at Home, to purchase cat litter and bikkit, thus dealing nicely with both ends, as it were. I caught up with some Desperate Housewives, tried some low GI-ish sort of baking, and went for a walk through the cemetery, which is full of lovely spring flowers. And dead people.  This brought me out at the end of Princes Avenue on the side of the road I never go – dangerous.  I found two nice shops selling bits – and bought some lovely red beads in the form of a necklace and a bracelet, and some nice greetings cards. Oops.  I was going to go home via the park, but I stopped in the local Sainsburys for some stuff, and the incredible string bag was a bit heavy, so I only did a couple of miles. That was my activity for the day, as far as I recall. Watched the rubbish Doctor Who, cooked a prawn and fennel risotto (with 20% less rice than usual), and a rhubarb crumble (with wholemeal flour and oats), which will do us three days instead of the usual two.

On Sunday, we ventured forth to Driffield, a market town in the Yorkshire Wolds. Had a mooch around the town, then set out along the canal for a bit – about 5 miles all told, I’d say. There’s a set of photographs on Flickr if you’d like to see more – a lovely walk, and we shall go there again.

We stopped in Beverley on the way back, as I wanted to pop into Lakeland (it’s quite dangerous living within spitting distance of a Lakeland shop). We bought a new pair of oven gloves (planned), and some small plastic boxes for the freezer, but woe – they have discontinued the range I love, and replaced it with horrible ones with rounded corners, and taller lids, and they won’t stack like the old ones :( I shall write and complain.

Then into Julian Graves for supplies of ground almonds (low carb),  dried cranberries, some yellow raisins, and some chocolate ginger (which ought to be for Pete, but they’re hard to resist …)

Supper was lasagne (with half the amount of pasta I usually use) followed by teeny portions of the rhubarb crumble), but that’s OK because breakfast was three crispbread with marmite and a boiled egg, and lunch was a cereal bar in the car (felt a bit odd after the walk) and half a wholemeal banana muffin. We watched The Dark Knight – at least, Pete did. Far too noisy and splody for my liking, and a bit violent for its 12 rating, I thought, so I gave up about 40 minutes in.  He loved it though, so I’m probably a philistine.

And today, my scales tell me I am no longer officially overweight.  And I don’t care what anyone else’s say.

Mirrored from kestrel.org.

I threw caution, and the diet, to the wind over the weekend.  There was a couple of glasses of wine on Friday night, and (I’m ashamed to say) a frenzied attack on a packet of Cadburys chocolate fingers.  On Saturday there was fruit cake, and fish and chips, and ice cream in the form of a Magnum; Sunday was better – cereal for breakfast, half a baguette (white) with chicken and cucumber and mayo, lentils and rice for supper.  But another couple of glasses of wine, and a singleton faux Bahlsen chocolate bikkit (from Aldl, or possibly Lidi).

And my word – I felt like shit this morning.  No energy, bloated and miserable – didn’t even go swimming, which I’d planned to do.  So back on the diet I go – don’t like feeling like this.

And you will be pleased to know (well, those who give a toss , that I have made an appointment to see the doctor on Friday.

Mirrored from kestrel.org.

On 19th March, a routine visit to the surgery gave me a fright – a standard test indicated Type 2 diabetes.  I’m waiting for the diagnosis to be confirmed, but I decided that I would take control, and act as though it has been.

So I upped my exercise levels (I had made a vague stab at starting running a couple of weeks before), and started eating a more healthy diet.

Since 19th I have lost 1.5 kgs.  Since 23rd, when I started tracking it via Runkeeper.com, I have walked, cycled and swum 35.7 miles.  I feel better than I have for years, and have dropped  a dress size.

I am dead chuffed with myself!

I’m going to do one of these postings at the end of every month, just for my own records.

Mirrored from kestrel.org.