So now they say I have…
Mar 16th, 2007 by Kirk M
As some of you may have realized by now, I’m a veteran of the Cold War, a submariner to be exact. I was assigned to a very special boat out of Norfolk VA that had a bad habit of spending an average of 300 days out of the year at sea and in the strangest places and conditions. And the environment that I and my fellow crazies worked in inside that marvelous machine could sometimes be quite damaging to our health, mentally and physically. Of course, one must be half insane in order to become a submariner anyway—it’s a requirement or it was back then if I recall correctly. To wit:
New recruit: “I want to join the submarine force”
Old Timer: “What…Are you crazy?”
New recruit: “Yup!”
Old Timer: “That’s just fine then, sign here.”
Just like that.
I don’t believe any one of us came away clean and most of us like myself, are dealing with the aftereffects of that strange and exciting life. Hence all my trips down to the VA Medical Facility in White River Jct, VT. A trip that runs about two hours down highway 91 that travels over the backs and through the valleys of some rather large mountains and hills and down into the Connecticut River Valley. Not exactly around the corner you might say but when one lives in an area where company provided health insurance is a rare thing indeed, I really can’t complain considering my general health these days.
So what, you may ask, is wrong with me? Besides the fact that the Addams Family is one of my favorite movies that is.
Well, without getting too terribly into details here—I have an injured back, a previously ulcerated esophagus (which abruptly ended my Naval career) that is currently giving me the hee-bee jee-bees and I’m legally deaf. There could be other things wrong as well but due to the latter of the three maladies, I probably couldn’t hear them when they told me about it so everything’s alright there.
Unfortunately I had no choice but to hear what my Primary Care Physician from the VA told me on the phone the other day. You see, I tend to keep the volume on my desk phone cranked right up there so I can listen to the exotic accents of various telemarketers that call during the day when these assorted maladies keep me out of work. That way I know what nationality I’m hanging up on or at least make a good guess. So I heard what my dear doctor informed me of loud and clear and I have to admit, much to my surprise as well.
He informed me that I had type II Diabetes.
Well now. Isn’t that odd.
So upon hearing this wonderful news, I climbed up on my virtual horse and galloped off into the virtual world in search of any information regarding this brand new malady that I supposedly have. After some initial searching about I gathered up some basics starting with what kind of qualities a person must exhibit in order to acquire this particular state of medical quandary.
Only two really stood out:
Being overweight and rather inactive in nature.
Hmmm, I thought but being rather deaf I found I couldn’t hear myself think so I stopped thinking all together which was quite a relief since I didn’t like the way I was thinking anyway.
What it comes down to is this:
- I’m around 5 feet, 11 inches in height.
- I weigh approximately 150 pounds soaking wet.
- My eating habits are moderate meaning….
- I don’t pig out on sweets. I hardly eat sweets at all.
- I don’t drown myself in pasta.
- I have perhaps one can of non-diet soda per day.
- I have one to two cups of coffee a day with a bit of sugar.
- And my honey keeps me well fed at supper and all her meals are well balanced. I can’t say the same for her husband though. Oh wait…that’s me.
- My family (on my mother’s side) has always had to deal with low blood sugar. Go figure.
- And my wife has all she can do to keep me from doing too much.
Obviously I’m a prime type II candidate. Anyone can see that I’m sure.
Now, I’ve always beaten my own very unique path through life but in my opinion this is a just a bit too unique for my taste. I would have happily just settled for being very different than everybody else even to the point of having others thinking me weird (as they often do much to my delight) with no need to pursue my differments any further than they already were but life has apparently taken notice once again and laid down before me another puzzlement to figure out.
Referring back to the first paragraph of this sordid tale, I really don’t believe that spending twelve excellent years in the Untied States Naval Submarine Force had anything to do with this latest adventure in diseases and maladies of the body but what we went through during those years were known to age a man an average of 5 years for every 1 year on board a submarine (fact…from a study run by the powers that be since WWII) which puts me approximately at the ripe old age of 73 and anything can happen at that age don’t you think?
Either way I think the whole thing is bunk which is why I’m calling for whatever test is necessary to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I do indeed have Type II Diabetes. If I don’t…fine and dandy. However, if I actually do—then I’ll have a new gadget to play with and a new mystery to solve even though I probably could have done without it thank you very much.
The majority of those who applied to the submarine force never made it even close to walking up the brow of their first boat. It was a long tough screening for an even tougher experience and once you made it (even though it was a strictly voluntary type service, getting in or getting out) no one ever quit and it’s still the same now. Life is for living, not quitting because things get a little tougher.
And so I’ll screw on my ball cap a little tighter for fear of my head floating off and it’s off to another grand adventure. Well, it might not be so grand but I’m sure it will be an adventure. My father’s side of the family is notoriously long lived and had a bad habit of walking around and bothering the neighbors years after their respective hearts stopped beating so I’m positive that I have plenty of time to deal with this as well. I do take after that side of the family you know.
Of course if the diagnosis proves wrong I’ll try not to complain about it too much.
Technorati Tags: health, diabetes, submarines, cold war, veterens
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Wow I have to say I’m shocked to read this. Just from the little I know about you I wouldn’t have thought you a candidate for diabetes type II. Did they do a 6 hour glucose tolerance test or was this just the usual fasting blood sugar level done with routine lab work? Anyone can have a high BS after drinking coffee with sugar and all that good stuff. That’s why I asked if you were fasting? If you weren’t fasting than it’s not a true result.
Very interesting to read about life in the submarine. Had no idea it ages a man like that. Are you told that when you sign up? Hang in there Kirk and keep me posted about the diabetes, I definitely agree more testing is needed to confirm this diagnosis!
I didn’t think I was a candidate either and apparently they use some sort of special blood test now and rarely do glucose tolerance tests anymore. We’ll see there.
Yup! That was one of the first things they told us. They did everything they could to show the new volunteers for the sub force that it definitely wasn’t for everyone and the majority that applied never made it either. That wasn’t necessarily bad for them or for those who had already had made it. You really didn’t want someone on board a sub who might decide “they couldn’t take it anymore” and do something stupid several hundred feet below the surface of ocean.