I am a terrible insomniac. I sleep about 4 - 5 hours a night, and often find myself up and looking for something to do long before my boyfriend ever stirs. A few days ago, I was reading the news sites on the web, and came across an article about the effects of blood sugar on cancer risk.

Now.. I am not afraid of snakes or spiders. I am pretty down to earth in my unreasonable fears of things, but CANCER is the A-1 fear in my heart. My worries are not completely baseless. My mother died of cancer when she was only 54, and I have never known my biological father - or his family history, so I have some legitimate concern for being so concerned.

The article discussed how a blood sugar level over 140 created a much greater risk for individuals to get cancer in general and pancreatic cancer specifically. Ala Chicken Little, I went into panic mode. I have been a diabetic (Type 2) for a couple of years now. I can, and do, watch my sugars from time to time; however, most of the time I am running in the high 200-400's. I have hard time taking this seriously, and I have no idea why. I think mostly it is because, I think that if this is just something I can handle with diet and exercise, then it must not be that terribly important. I mean, if the doctor just advises me to eat a healthy diet, well then that is his usual advice and it is not something real. I am not like those people with Juvenile Diabetes. I make my own insulin still, I am reasonably healthy (except for a back problem that has developed over the last couple of months), so I have a hard time accepting that I have a disease. This article, with its very warnings and predictions was a huge kick in the bum for me.

I had already promised my boyfriend ( the single most supportive and good person in the world) , my doctor, my co-workers and I think maybe some randon strangers as well, that I would try and be better this year. I am trying a new vegetable recipe every week. One of these days, I will like veggies, I promise.

When I was a little girl. All things were cooked in one method - fry it up in the big iron skillet. Potatoes? Fried. Chicken? Fried. Greens? Fried. Bologna? Fried. You name it... my mother could find away to fry it. We even had fried toast alot. No really, not french toast, but regular, run of the mill, bread buttered up and fried. Learning how to cook well, with diversity and an eye to the nutritional values has been a great journey for me. From being a willing product of my youth, to becoming a responsible product of my own, I am excited and a bit weary of my follow through. We shall see I guess.