Hi. I’m not dead.

Just extremely busy. When last I wrote, I had conducted my big weigh-in and discovered that I had lost 15 pounds. That was my good news. The next day, I had my consult with the endocrinologist, who said pretty definitively that I have diabetes. I had been holding out some small hope that I would go in there and they would tell me it was all a mistake (I do believe that is called dee-ni-al) but in the end I wasn’t as freaked out as I thought I would be. I guess the long wait to get in to see the doctor gave me some time to adjust to the idea. Glad to know there was some upside to the ridiculous delay, although in the interests of full disclosure, I have to admit I wasn’t as calm and collected about it as I would have liked. Just ask John about the tantrum I threw on Monday night as I tried – and initially failed – to load songs on to the iPod my mom bought my brother. And the first time I tested my blood sugar with my fancy new glucose meter, I sat on the bed crying because it hurt to prick my finger and I couldn’t get enough blood to come out to get a reading. I’m finally getting the hang of that. Luckily, I only have to do it twice a day.

The good news is that just by losing some weight and making changes to my diet, I’ve already lowered my blood sugar fairly significantly. The doctor said that if I didn’t want to get pregnant, she’d say I was fine without medication. Since I do want to get pregnant, she wants me to talk to my RE about going on metformin. Which has come up before, so I’ve already called him and the two doctors are supposed to discuss. I really think I should lose some more weight before I go back to trying to conceive though, so it is kind of academic at this point. It was a little odd, because the diabetes doctor kept talking about me getting pregnant as if it was just going to happen, and there I was, all skeptical, like “we can talk about me seeing a high-risk OB when and if I ever actually get pregnant.” At this rate, Britney Spears will be on her third kid before I even get one. But no, I should be more optimistic than that, right?

And then I was off to Asheville to attend my brother’s college graduation. Watch out world, because he’s going to take you by storm. I had been ever so slightly dreading this trip, as it involved a 460 mile drive to North Carolina and a 460 mile drove back to Maryland with just me and my mom in the car. And we would be sharing a hotel room. And John and Seamus weren't coming and I knew I would miss them -- which I did, quite a bit. And my parents hate each other and were likely to be childish. Well, actually, I was worried that my mom would be childish and inappropriate and my dad would be crazy and inappropriate, but it all went pretty well. My mom and I sprang for a mini-suite with two rooms, which may be some of the best extra money I have ever spent. Being able to have my own space to sleep in at night made all the difference in the world. There were times when we got on each other’s nerves (I’ll just refer you back to the rule my mom repeatedly violated during our last visit to Asheville) and I wasn’t thrilled with her insistence that we keep the suite at a cozy (stuffy) 78 to 80 degrees all weekend, but at least I didn’t have to listen to her snoring. And she was great about my diabetes news. You never know exactly which way my mom is going to go, but this time, she was very supportive and helpful.

And now I’m back (as I wrote this, the lyrics to Back in Black started playing in my head Does that happen to anyone else?) So, hi. I’m not dead.