Everyone needs something to worry about, and I can find plenty of worrisome issues. I suppose I should be worrying about the economy, but I figure there are enough other people doing that for me, so I worry about the neglected things.
Right now, I'm worrying about what happens to all that fat we lose. I lost 30 pounds after I was diagnosed, and I know people who have lost more than 100 pounds. Where does all that weight go?
Is it hovering around our heads, or, more likely, our stomachs, just waiting for a chance to leap back onto our bodies? Is it lonely out there in the ether, with no body to cling to? Does my lost weight get together with your lost weight and do they sit around mourning their lost kinship? Does the weight need psychological help?
What if everyone in the world lost 50 pounds. Would all that lost fat clog up the air and make it difficult to breathe? Sometimes this keeps me awake at night almost as much as worrying about what would happen if everyone in New York City decided to go outside at the same time. Would there be room on the sidewalk for all of them?
When I'm through worrying about all that lost weight, I move on to worrying about carbohydrates. I'm on a low-carb diet. Do the carbohydrates in my house have low-self esteem because I tend to neglect them? Is it fair to do nutritional profiling when I'm selecting a food? Could I be accused of discrimination?
Then I worry about diets in general. What if it turns out that the healthiest diet really consists of Pastrami sandwiches on white bread washed down with beer? Has all that lean protein and low-carb vegetable simply made me sicker?
I mean, doctors and nutritionists have been wrong before. Before the DCCT trials, the experts said high blood glucose levels had nothing to do with complications. Then they found out the A1c really mattered. Oops. Then they said postprandial BG levels didn't matter, just the A1c. Now they say they do. Oops.
So what if it turns out that lean protein and vegetables are really killing us? What if the Revolutionary Chinese Powdered Milk Diet turns out to be the healthiest one around? How do we know?
When I've exhausted the diet worries, I move on to exercise. Is exercise was really good for me? What if it turns out that the best thing for me to do all day would be to lie in a hammock reading cheap novels while I chomp on my pastrami sandwiches on white bread (I'm hoping to avoid the beer, which I hate)?
Should I abandon my plans to go on a hike Saturday and stay home for some serious lounging instead? If I do, is it OK to lounge in a living room, or do I need to find a Lounge?
The worries never end. To paraphrase Robert Louis Stevenson:
Life is so full of a number of worries, I'm sure we should all be as happy as curries.
Published On: October 14, 2008