Ok, here is the deal. I used to love snow. I loved to play in it, shovel it and was not even intimidated driving in it. What happened? Did I turn into a pansy or something?
I cannot stand it anymore. My body cannot stand it any more. My blood sugar cannot stand it anymore and I cannot stomach the thought of driving in it anymore even though I have a four-wheel drive vehicle.
My biggest problems are my neck, shoulder, blood sugar and increased heart rate. With a herniated disc and a frozen shoulder, the discomfort is a bit much.
Since I am not a allowed to ski anymore (let’s be real it would be stupid with my neck), there is absolutely no fun in it – no light at the end of the shoveling tunnel.\
Most of the time my blood sugar goes up not down. It is actually easier to do if I fast and do not try the balancing act of food, insulin and shoveling. I can deal with a 30 or 40-point increase. The last time I decided to eat and had a 100-point increase followed by a very, very rapid 100-point drop. That is just plain exhausting.
I assume this is because my heart rate and adrenalin take off. I can only shovel in small increments before I have breathing problems – 15 or 20 minutes - which makes me feel like a total baby. (For those who are wondering, I have checked. There is nothing wrong with me and I do not smoke or drink and I am not overweight.) Once I rest, I have to convince myself to do it again. Then the cycle starts all over again. It took three attempts to get the job done the last snowstorm. I was an extremely unpleasant person the rest of the day. I was very uncomfortable and very frustrated at the whole cycle of events.
And so, I hear it is going to snow again tomorrow and then quickly be followed by rain and ice. Therefore, I will not even be able to wait until it stops to clean the mess up. The dread has started already.
The solution, I have been told, is to find a rich man … anybody know one? Either that or spring better just hurry up ‘cause I have had just about enough of New England weather for a while.
Doris J. Dickson