Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Our Christmas Cookbook - 7. Insulin Resistance
Insulin Resistance
By Valkyrie
Sunlight glimmered off the pristine blue water of the mountain lake, so bright I had to shield my eyes with my hand. As I walked along the sandy shore, the cold water lapped around my bare ankles, contrasting with the warmth of the sun like a yin/yang symbol. Rocky peaks covered with a canopy of colorful leaves surrounded me. The bright red and orange foliage gave the impression the trees were on fire as the brilliant light gleamed off them. It was paradise. Well, it would have been, if Billy had been with me.
A low rumbling sound made me stop in my tracks. I watched in horror as small rocks tumbled down the mountainside, followed by large boulders. The mountains were crumbling before my eyes. The earth shook as they slammed into the ground, causing the water in the lake to lurch and splash up my legs, soaking my shorts. My heart pounded in my chest as a large fissure opened in front of me, collapsing the ground into it. Even if I had time to run, there was nowhere to escape to. I closed my eyes as I fell, imagining myself as Gandalf fighting the Balrog, hoping it would be over quickly….
I flailed my arms and legs and sat upright, gasping for breath. I clutched the arms of the couch to reassure myself I wasn’t actually falling, and there weren’t any giant boulders crushing me or Balrogs waiting to smite me. Damn if that wasn’t one hell of a life-like dream.
I jumped when the slamming sound continued, and wiped my face with my hands in a futile attempt to get rid of the sleep-fog surrounding my brain. “What the fuck?” I muttered. The sound was coming from the kitchen.
I rose and headed toward the sound of cupboards being slammed shut and muttered curses. Billy was ransacking our cupboards and throwing away our food, smashing and banging everything in the process. I’d never seen him so upset. I grabbed his forearm as he was just about to throw away the double-stuff Oreos I had bought the previous day. They were his favorite snack food.
“Babe! What the fuck are you doing? I just bought those!”
He scowled and yanked his arm away, then threw the cookies across the room. “Get them out of here.”
I scrunched my brow. “What the fuck’s going on?”
“I can’t eat any of this shit anymore. So get rid of it all. I can’t look at it right now.” He handed me the garbage bag full of junk food and stormed out of the kitchen. I stared after him, wondering what the hell was going on.
I let the heavy plastic bag slide from my hands, then followed my stricken husband. He was in the living room, sulking on the couch. He’d flipped the TV station away from the food show I was watching before I fell asleep and was staring at Homer Simpson as he had donut after donut shoveled into his face by the devil. He turned the TV off and threw the remote onto the coffee table.
I sat next to him and put my arm around his shoulders. He turned into me and hugged me tightly. “What’s wrong?” I said into his hair.
“I have diabetes.”
Fuck. I had totally forgotten about his doctor appointment. “Diabetes? But you haven’t shown any symptoms. Are they sure?” He’d gone for a routine physical. How the hell could he have diabetes?
“My blood sugar was really high on my bloodwork, and my A1C was 8.0. Which means diabetes.”
“I’m sorry… what can we do?”
“Well, the doc gave me some medication to try. And I have to cut out the sweets and carbs. She seems to think I can manage it with ‘lifestyle changes’.” He snorted.
“Okay… it sounds manageable.” I rubbed his back. I was worried, though. Diabetes could have serious complications.
“Manageable. I can’t eat anything I like anymore.”
“So, what can you eat?”
“Meat, veggies. That’s about it.”
Getting my husband to eat veggies was like pulling teeth. He was a total meat, potatoes, and pasta man. “Did they give you any information? Diet tips?”
“Right now, all I want to do is curl up and feel sorry for myself. I need some time with this.” He inhaled and nuzzled closer into my shoulder. “Take my mind off this, please.”
I kissed him, and did as he asked.
***
“What the fuck? Why would you buy these?” Billy scowled as he held up a box of fudge-covered, coconut caramel cookies.
“Because I like them,” I responded, apparently a bit too sarcastically.
“You know I can’t eat these.”
“Well I can. I shouldn’t have to limit myself because you have to.”
His eyes widened and he walked out of the kitchen wordlessly—back ramrod straight. I winced, knowing I’d crossed a line. Billy had been struggling since his diagnosis. Staying away from sweets was especially difficult. He loved cake and ice cream and chocolate. His last doctor appointment hadn’t gone well and there was the possibility he’d have to go on insulin if his numbers didn’t improve soon. We were both miserable, and I’d had enough. He had to watch what he ate.
I didn’t.
Why should I have to suffer too?
I finished putting the groceries away, shutting the cabinets a little harder than necessary and muttering under my breath, getting more and more aggravated. When I was done, I found Billy in the living room, watching the news. I was tempted to grab a handful of cookies and stuff them in my face right in front of him, but immediately felt like an asshole for thinking that.
He muted the TV and turned to me. “Look. I know you don’t have to follow the same diet I do. And I don’t expect you to. But can you at least do me the favor of not doing it around me? It’s hard enough at work with all the pizza, birthday cakes, and donuts. If I hear ‘one small piece won’t kill you’ one more time, I’m going to scream.” He inhaled and took my hand. “It’s a constant battle, so I could really use your support. I can’t tell you how much this sucks. Giving up my favorites really sucks.”
I drew him close, feeling like a fool. His words made me realize how selfish I’d been. I’d only been thinking about how this affected me, and not what my poor husband was going through.
“I’m sorry. Tell you what… I’ll take all the junk to work and have it there as my snack. I didn’t realize how hard this was for you. I can’t say I won’t have the occasional piece of junk in front of you, but I’ll do better. I promise.”
He tightened his arms around me. “Thank you.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
****
Since I did the majority of the cooking, I had to change how I did my meal-planning. Instead of the usual protein, vegetable, starch, I learned how to make balanced meals using meat and veg. I bought low carb cookbooks and joined some online recipe-sharing groups. At first, I scoffed at using cauliflower instead of rice or potatoes. I used to make fun of people who insisted the substitutions were just as good as the real thing. I’d make our meals, then scarf as much junk as I could when Billy wasn’t around. Strangely, as I gained prowess as a low-carb cook, I found I wanted the crappy stuff less and less. Mashed cauliflower tasted better to me than potatoes. And I even made a killer pizza crust out of cauliflower and cheese. Who knew this stuff could actually be good?
Even though Billy was the one with the health issues, I found myself having more energy, and my clothes fit looser. Billy’s numbers finally looked better, so he didn’t have to go on insulin. We took daily walks together in the evening and our sex life had never been better.
Then I came home from work one day to find him sitting on the couch, staring at a piece of paper. His shoulders were slumped and his hands clutched whatever he was holding, crumpling it.
“What’s wrong, babe?” I sat next to him and put my arm around his shoulders. Alarm flooded through me. I hoped it wasn’t bad news from the doctor.
He leaned into me and sighed. I took the paper from him. It was his grandmother’s recipe for gingerbread—his favorite Christmas treat. The holiday was only a couple of weeks away, and I hadn’t even considered the ramifications for Billy.
No stuffing.
No mashed potatoes smothered in gravy.
No sweet potato casserole.
No dessert.
Fuck.
I drew him into a hug. I’d figure something out.
Billy struggled in the days leading up to his favorite holiday. He felt sick one night, and confessed he’d eaten some candy. I thought I’d gotten rid of it all, but he’d hidden some from me. To say I was angry was an understatement. I didn’t understand how he could risk his health like that.
I’d gotten pretty good at making low carb meals, but one area I’d never explored was alternative baked goods and desserts. I learned there were lots of options for diabetic people and people who wanted to eat low carb. So I called Billy’s mom—who was hosting Christmas this year—and we made some plans.
“I don’t want to go.” Billy covered his head with the blanket.
The mattress squeaked as I turned toward him. “You have to.”
“I don’t have to do anything. I’m an adult.”
I rolled my eyes. Yeah, he was sure acting like one. “Babe, this is your favorite holiday. You don’t want to disappoint your nieces and nephews do you? And what about your parents and grandma?”
“They’ll get over it.”
“Are you serious? Put your big boy pants on and get the fuck out of bed.”
He lowered the blanket and fixed me with a look of death. “I don’t think you understand. I won’t be able to control myself today. And I don’t want to end up in the hospital with my blood sugar sky high.”
“You trust me, right?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe.”
I smiled. “Trust me. Everything will be OK.”
He nodded after staring at me for a minute. “If I need to leave early, please don’t give me shit over it.”
“Deal.”
“What’s this? Why is there two of everything?” Billy furrowed his brow in the most adorable way.
“Mark called me a couple of weeks ago, and we made some additions to the menu. This stuffing is made with almond flour and the gingerbread is sugar-free. So you don’t have to feel deprived of your favorites,” his mom replied, smiling.
He turned toward me and raised an eyebrow. “He did, huh?”
I nodded. “He did.”
He hated showing emotion in front of people, so hid his tears in my sweater as he hugged me. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Low Carb Gingerbread Cookie Bars
Ingredients:
· 2 cups almond flour
· 1 ½ tbsp. ground ginger
· 1 tsp ground cinnamon
· ¼ tsp ground cloves
· ½ tsp baking soda
· ¼ tsp salt
· ¼ cup (half stick) of softened butter
· ¼ cup coconut oil
· ½ cup monkfruit/erithrytol blend sweetener (or sweetener of choice)
· 1 large egg
· ½ tsp vanilla
Instructions
1. Preheat oven to 325 F. Grease 8” x 8” baking dish
2. In a large bowl, mix together the almond flour, spices, baking soda, and salt.
3. In a separate bowl, beat the butter and coconut oil together until smooth, then beat in the sweetener until incorporated fully.
4. Beat in egg and vanilla extract until combined. Then add almond flour mixture and beat until well-combined.
5. Spread dough into the baking dish and bake for 25 minutes. The cookie will puff up, then become firm as it cools.
6. Cool for 20 minutes before serving. It will disintegrate if served hot. They’re better when served cool or cold, and are quite tasty after being frozen. They’re also good served warm with low-carb ice cream.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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