I have taken for granted the safety of pseudoephedrine or Sudafed. I mean, it’s the one drug pregnant women can take with confidence. For the sake of my story, I can even set aside the misuse and resultant strict distribution rules the underground meth crowd has created.

In all the years I’ve taken pseudoephedrine, I’ve never had any side or ill effects. So the onset of a cold highlighted by the persistent runny nose lead me to regular use for a week or so.

The anxiety and heart pounding finally pushed me to type the following into Google: “diabetes pseudoephedrine”. See, I was recently diagnosed with diabetes. Technically, it’s Type 2 diabetes or diabetes mellitus. The Google search netted a huge list of sites warning about the perils of diabetics taking pseudoephedrine.

Before I get letters from some lawyer about dealing Sudafed a bad rap, let me say this: pseudoephedrine is safe. It just happens to not be as safe for me at this time. But now I have to think about these things. Now, nothing is “safe”. I was having trouble wading, but I’ve been thrown into the deep end of the pool.

My doctor “showed me the pool” several months ago by telling me that I was pre-diabetic. That wasn’t so bad to hear. “Pre” implied that I could avoid “full” diabetes altogether by eating right, exercising more and taking a couple pills. I’ve spend the last couple years dealing with thyroid replacement medication and cholesterol issue. My toes entered the shallow wading pool of diabetes.

At my next appointment, my doctor led me waist deep. Just two months later, and he wasn’t talking “pre”. “Hi, my name is Steve, and I’m a diabetic.” (All together now, “Hi, Steve!”) Step up the exercise. Attend a nutrition class with my wife (we’re in this together, you know). Cut my cholesterol. Eat less.

It was time to adjust to the water. I walked around the pool; picked up a book at the library, checked out Web sites, thought through eating habits.

Into the Deep End

I have vague memories of a childhood incident involving water. I was running around a hotel pool in Morehead, Minnesota, I think. I must have been about six or seven. I missed a turn and went in to the deep end. Forty years later, I still don’t know how long I was in or even how I got out. But, that incident has affected my feelings about submersion in water ever since.

That heart-thumping weekend felt like that slip into the deep end. I had started reading up just enough to suspect that my blood sugar levels may have been low, causing an elevated heart rate. My attempts to boost my blood sugar were in vain, though (sorry, that pun just slipped out). I was in deep water, flailing about. It was only when I discovered multiple Web sites warning against pseudoephedrine use by diabetics that I found like I had my head above water.

I’ve been thrown into the pool of diabetes knowledge. And, I suspect that initial submersion will be with me as long as that first slip into that pool decades ago. I only hope I can continue to swim and not sink again.

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