Diseased

I may, it appears, be diabetic.  Last year I had a blood test, which scored 7 for glucose.  The other week, it scored over 10.  It should be 5.  Oops.
 
The nice nurse chatted to me.  "Why do you think you’re here?" she asked.  That was worrying.  Didn’t she know?
 
"You’ve discovered I’ve got a rare disease, and I’ve only six weeks to live?" I ventured.
 
She laughed, which was either a good sign, or a really, really bad sign.
 
I’m probably diabetic.  That means I’m at risk of stroke, blindness, respiratory problems, heart attack, penile erectile dysfunction, circulatory problems, and I might have to have my toes or feet amputated.  I’m guessing she was trying to brace me for the worst case scenario.
 
To be sure, I would need another test at the hospital.  But in the mean time, I need to be on a low-fat, no-sugar diet.  Because porky people are more at risk, apparantly.  I sucked my stomach in, but still could not see my feet.  Did this mean I had lost them already, or was my eyesight so bad I couldn’t see that far?
 
She gave me some literature to read.  I have taught an entire week’s course from a manual smaller than the sheaf of documents she gave me.  Included was a list of good foods and a list of bad foods.  It might be worth risking blindness rather than sticking to what I’m supposed to eat.  But I resolved to be good.  I’m sitting here with a rumbling stomach, trying not to think of all those biscuits laid out for the delegates.
 
I told the Missus about the penile erectile dysfunction.  "You’d better make the most of it while you can," I told her.
 
I don’t think, "Dream on," is a very encouraging repsonse.
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About snodlander
Snodlander is the nom de plume of Bob Simms. He is an IT trainer, but it's not as glamourous as it sounds. When he's not enthralling classes with adventures through SQL Server, he writes, draws and drinks his own home-brew. Buy his novel on Amazon Kindle at The Young Demon Keeper, It's 74p, for crying out loud!

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