I'm so glad you stopped by. My name is Rebecca and this is my personal story of my struggles and the courage to take back control of the chaos that unfolded after being diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes and embarking the journey of menopause.
Growing up, in rural, southern North Carolina, homemade biscuits with molasses syrup, homemade jelly or home canned fruit preserves was a staple in every Native American Lumbee home. It's was breakfast for both my parents, my grandparents and my great-grandparents. Diabetes nor any health concerns were ever discussed amongst us kids growing up, and kids with obesity was not a concern. There was always farm work to be done, cows, hogs and chickens to be fed and watered after school. A few grandparents still milked cows for fresh milk and to make handmade butter to sell. And in the summer fields of corn, and peas to be picked and cucumbers to be sold at the market for money for our school clothes in the fall.
As I grew into adulthood, diabetes still was not a health concern for me. My concerns were mainly of the chances of developing Glaucoma or cataracts and going blind as my maternal great-grandmother and one of my maternal uncles.
In 2012, I joined a gym and attended regularly until Covid. Looking back, I believe that is where my health plummeted. I was blessed and fortunate to have the opportunity to work from home during the Covid years. But as time passed, working from home made me lazy, and the free reign to my kitchen anytime I wanted added to my careless weight gain. I made excuses as to why I didn't have the time to exercise outdoors and I procrastinated in riding an exercise bike I purchased in January 2020 when the unknowns of Covid had everyone on high alert.
The early morning of October 20, 2023 when the Physician Assistant diagnosed me with Type 2 diabetes, you could have bought me for a penny.
The month prior, my youngest son, and I drove across country from El Paso, Texas to North Carolina on a 36-hour non-stop drive when he decided to move back home. After we arrived, and rested for the remaining of the week, I remember not feeling rested although I was sleeping more than ten hours a night. I returned to work the next Monday and resumed my normal daily routines and not-so-healthy dieting habits.
October rolled in with cooler weather and I began to notice my eyesight seemed to be deuterating. Due to working overtime the previous weeks, I accounted my vision problems on starring at three monitors for my job. Except it wasn't. On Thursday afternoon, Oct 19 when I got into my car to come home after work, I couldn't see past the hood of my car. That was when I realized there was something seriously wrong with me. I called my husband, frantic.
"I can't see past the hood of my car." My hands shook as I held my cell phone in my hand. It was a little after 5 pm. How in the world was I going to be able to drive through the horrendous traffic in Lumberton? Lumberton was a small town compared to Fayetteville, or Raleigh, except Lumberton was the halfway stopping point off I-95 between New York and Florida frequent travelers.
"Do I need to come get you?" My husband's voice was filled with worry.
"No. I would need a driver. I don't want to worry mom and dad." Our two sons were at work and I didn't want to jeopardize their jobs. "Just stay on the phone with me, hun. I'm going to drive the back roads out of town to get home."
"Take your time and drive safe."
"I will." I bowed my head and prayed before I turned the ignition and followed my husbands instructions.
You will never convenience me God doesn't answer our prayers, because God heard my plea and he answered my prayers that day. As I drove down Fayetteville Road, there were no other cars on the road that I could see, and as I approached a stoplight, I took my foot off the gas to apply the break, the light would quickly turn green.