It was exactly a year ago that L.A. County Supervisor Zev Yaroslavsky began seeing a blur out of his right eye. His optometrist told him his vision had diminished 22% since the previous exam, and suggested he get checked out for diabetes.
Diabetes?
It was exactly a year ago that L.A. County Supervisor Zev Yaroslavsky began seeing a blur out of his right eye. His optometrist told him his vision had diminished 22% since the previous exam, and suggested he get checked out for diabetes.
Diabetes?
Yaroslavsky shrugged it off, even though his mother, who died of cancer when Zev was 10, had diabetes. He had been feeling fatigued and frequently thirsty, but his nonstop schedule was explanation enough.
Besides, he ran three or four miles a day and watched what he ate, except for one incurable weakness. Many nights, on his way home to Hancock Park, he stopped at Baskin-Robbins for a pint of chocolate chip ice cream.
A month after his eye exam, Yaroslavsky had a respiratory problem and went to see his regular doctor for a chest X-ray. While he was there, he had some blood work done. Then came the good news-bad news call from his doctor.
The chest X-ray was clean, but Yaroslavsky had Type 2 diabetes, the type that does not require insulin injections.
"What's it mean?" asked Yaroslavsky, 53.
The doctor told him it meant he could change his diet and lifestyle, take medication to control his cholesterol, and probably manage the disease. Or he could stick with the chocolate chip ice cream and risk amputation, blindness, heart disease and stroke.
"I went cold turkey," Yaroslavsky says. "I went home and there was still some chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer, and I told my wife to leave it there as a test of my own willpower."
Potatoes, rice, and macaroni were out. At banquets, he'd ask for just a salad or a piece of fish with vegetables or fruit.
"My wife is a terrific cook, and she makes me an egg white omelet every morning with phony sausage and phony cheese made from soy. I can't even tell the difference."
He still picks up a pint of something frozen at night, but now it's fat-free and sugar-free strawberry-banana yogurt.
Yaroslavsky's weight has fallen from 201 pounds to 175, his vision has been restored because of the adjustment in blood-sugar levels, his cholesterol has plunged from the high 200s to the mid 100s, and he legs out a 12- to 15-mile beach run on weekends at a faster clip than he's known in years.
Zev Yaroslavsky got religion, and now, more than ever, he is plugged in to public health issues. Early this month, he went nuts over the story that said nearly 80% of California's schoolchildren are out of shape.