Hypochondria

Recently my mother told me that she’d just been diagnosed with diabetes.  I called her, she asked me how I was doing, and about midway through the conversation, I said, “How are things with you?”

“Good,” she replied.  “Except that I went to the hospital today because my feet were so swollen and they ran some tests and found out that I have diabetes.”

The news wasn’t really all that surprising to me.  With something like sixty percent of Americans suffering from the disease, it was bound to happen to my mother at some point.  She was definitely a high risk for diabetes-she was overweight, didn’t exercise at all (she leads a very sedentary lifestyle of lying on her couch and watching home shopping channels), and she loved sugar.  Cake was sometimes dinner for her, cookies and ice cream dessert.