Well, unless she counted the time she’d burned a pan of lasagna in the oven until it was completely black. Even after soaking the pan in hot, soapy water overnight, she’d scrubbed it so long and hard the next day that she’d nearly passed out from the effort.

That’s what I get for adding a ridiculous amount of cheese.

Preslee sighed. Clearly, her diet hadn’t helped matters either. She’d always eaten whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. She’d never paid any attention to the number of calories in each serving, much less considered the negative impact that her poor choices might have on her health. Well, until now.

She glanced sullenly at the untouched cream-filled snack cake she’d tossed into her center console on her way to work. Though it was still calling her name, she hadn’t eaten it at lunch like she’d planned. She couldn’t. Not after what her doctor had said when he’d called this morning with her test results.

Last week’s appointment with Dr. Fowler had started out as a routine annual physical. But when he’d noticed that Preslee’s blood pressure was a little high and that she had gained weight, he asked about her family’s medical history with diabetes, high blood pressure, low HDL cholesterol and high triglycerides, and even gestational diabetes. None of which she had an answer for.

At three weeks old, Preslee had been adopted by a childless couple who’d been unable to conceive on their own. Because they weren’t blood relatives, she had zero knowledge of her biological family’s medical history. Therefore, Dr. Fowler’s preliminary screening hadn’t been able to produce any helpful information to adequately gauge her health risks.

So he’d done the only thing he could. He’d ordered some lab tests of her fasting glucose level, oral glucose tolerance level, and A1C. All of which determined whether or not she had impaired glucose levels.

At the time, Preslee hadn’t been concerned. After all, she was young and hadn’t experienced any health issues that would indicate anything was wrong. Sure, she’d gained some extra weight and her blood pressure was a little high, but neither seemed like much to worry about on their own.

Still, the determined Dr. Fowler had refused to take no for an answer. Although she loved having the elderly man as her doctor, the persistent grump glowered when he didn’t get his way. Without a doubt, he would’ve harped on her until the end of time—or at least until his death—if she hadn’t conceded and taken the damn tests.