I may as well check in. No progress to report on the knee. Louie's a jerk.
Last week I was due to re-take my blood work from January. There's a newer urgent care associated with my doc's hospital system just up the road, so that was nice. It's also sort of hidden by where they put it, making it not too busy most of the time. Like Wednesday afternoon when I went. The phlebotomist was ready for me before I finished filling out the paperwork. How often does that happen? She was really good, too. Didn't even feel the poke. One of the vials was messed up, so I had to sit with the needle in my arm while she had the receptionist (there was just the two of them there) get another from the cupboard. NBD. I walked out of the door five minutes after I walked in.
Things went downhill from there.
The last 5 years or so my cholesterol and blood sugar numbers have been either borderline bad or excellent, depending on where I was in training. Running lots of miles? I'm the healthiest 50-something on the planet. On a break due to injury or marathon recovery? Watch the diet, kiddo.
Recap: The hamstring took me off the roads in December. I went crazy with holiday eats. Testing in mid-January (with just a couple of weeks of a few miles a day) showed my cholesterol not where it ought to be. Blood sugar? 6.2 on the A1c test. Very nearly diabetic. Not only did I get the low sugar, low fat lecture, this time I got, "We better look at these again in a few months."
Then there's the PSA number (3.99). That's been sort of creeping up the last few years as well, and this time I was right at the edge between, "You're an old guy and old guys have higher PSA numbers," and, "A number like that is where we usually order a biopsy for prostate cancer." (anything over 4.0)
Anyway, I figured since I was starting to run again, despite the cold temps of January, that there'd be no problem. Just need to get a few miles behind me and things would drop back to where they belong. And I decided to go really nuts and cut out sugar. As much as I sweeted through December, I avoided the sweet stuff through February and March and April. My weight stayed steady at my non-training normal of 160-ish. I'd show that A1c who was boss.
Friday night I checked the patient portal for the good news.
Except it wasn't good news. Not good at all.
A1c - 6.1 What the bloody hell? I nearly killed myself for three months, refusing anything that didn't taste like cardboard. Donuts, cake, ice cream, Snickers, Crunch 'n' Munch - ALL my favorite things. And I got one lousy tenth of a point. Granted, there was no running assistance, thanks to Louie. But, still.
Downhill from there. PSA = 4.58.
Saturday I shampoo-ed the carpets in the house and changed the electricals in the dining room to match the new paint. I did not run.
I'm waiting on a call from the office, encouraging me to come in for a chat. In the meantime, Mrs. Dave is checking her sources for a good urologist.
So, I'm kind of pissed off about this. Who gave my body permission to get old? Wasn't me.
There are 32 marathons I still need to run and the clock is ticking.