Nothing More Than Feelings.

I don't feel amazing.  The A1C I received recently can be accurately described as "total crap".  My body aches, my ankles swell.  My mouth has suffered the dryness of approximately one jillion cotton balls.

Winter, aka The Time I Am Most Likely to Be Down on Myself for the Silliest Things, is upon us.  I am less than thrilled.  Completely non-plussed.  Sometimes utterly discouraged.  I've beaten myself up psychologically before.  I've tried to pretend things that bother me might go away if I look in the other direction.

I get more anxious about my future than I do my blood sugar levels, and I suppose in a way, that's good.  I still feel like a mostly-normal human being, albeit sometimes a flawed and out-of-shape one.

But I'm still holding on.  I keep reminding myself to revisit all the good and great things that have happened lately, and luckily, there are a lot of those.

I just need to remember to learn.  To move on.  To not ignore the things that frighten me because honey, they ain't goin' anywhere.  I need to remember to wear my Dexcom all the time [dammit].  To realize that the numbers are very important, but they don't define who I am.

Can we all just take a minute to get all existential/philosophical and appreciate how beautiful and terrifying life can be, and that sometimes just still being here is a major achievement?  Can we all just give each other a hug?

Never Knowing

There's a person I follow on Twitter, and he's one of those people who posts at least two Tweets on the hour, every hour during the day.  He's got some good information and interesting personal stories, he likes to focus a lot on the oft-ignored effects of diabetes on mental health.  All good, right?

I suppose.

However, this guy makes me question myself all the time.  Many things that happen to me that I chalk up to depression, anxiety, or career-related ennui could potentially, according to things he says, be merely diabetes related.  Maybe this is supposed to serve as a relief to some people, but for me I am finding this unnervingly stressful.

If I snap at someone for no reason, can I just blame my bad blood sugars?  If things seem to be bothering me more than they would bother a normal person, can I just blame my diabetes?  Do I even need to see a therapist at all when I feel overwhelmed?  Would a perfect A1C just make me a happier person overall?

If what you say is true, Mr. Twitter Man, have I been doing it wrong all of these years?  

Because that's every diabetic's favorite thing to hear, right?  That we're doing it wrong and if we just stop doing (xyz) everything will be so much better.

I am irritated because I know there has to be some truth in what this guy is saying, and I'm sure he's not intending to make his fellow PWD feel bad about themselves.

There is a reason that the 'Unfollow' button exists, but what am I losing or gaining by clicking it?

Diabetes Blog Week, Day 5: What They [You] Should Know

I am not a role model in the sense that I have a great A1C, or that I always know what to do about diabetes.  I don't have all the answers.  I just have 21+ years of experience.

I don't always know exactly what I'm doing, but I am trying my best to keep up.  I read a lot of blogs.  I may fire off a lot of terminology that you don't necessarily understand.  If you want to understand, please stop and ask me.  I'd be happy to try and help explain.

I don't need your policing, but sometimes I may want your help.  Let's work together to learn the difference. 

I appreciate it when you have diet soda or unsweetened iced tea at parties.

Sometimes I don't mind if you're looking at the numbers on any of my screens.  Sometimes I do.  It can be a touchy thing.  It makes me feel fickle.  I'm sorry if you want to look, then I snap at you a bit.  It's not you.  It's me being embarrassed by the results I don't like.

If you think you don't need health insurance, I will try to convince you otherwise.  If you think national healthcare is a shitty idea, I will try to convince you otherwise, angrily.  Furiously, if you try to tell me that changes to my lifestyle could have prevented me from getting diabetes.  I was eight years old.  It was autoimmune.  If you don't understand that my family didn't choose this for me by their actions, then you may get your toes stomped on with some combat boots.

Sometimes I lick my fingers after I check my blood.  It's my blood.  It's less gross (to me) than keeping one of those blood-spotted tissues in your testing kit.  I'm not a vampire.  Deal with it.

When I'm cranky, it might be my blood sugar.  It might not be.  It's hard for me to tell the difference, too, so don't get too discouraged.

You know those 21+ years I mentioned earlier?  I've had type 1 this long, and I'm still learning every day.  I'm still trying to figure out how and when to do things, what to eat, what not to eat.  I'm always trying to have a better attitude, and sometimes I completely fail.  Diabetes management is about trying, and accepting that failures may not necessarily be my own fault.

There is uncertainty built into every single day.

I worry about you worrying about me too much.

I worry about me not worrying about myself enough.

I worry about every ache, pain and discomfort in my body, but I try not to let it get to me.

Every person with diabetes is affected differently.  We all need different amounts of insulin, medications, etc.  We all have our own management styles.  You say your Aunt Matilda was "cured" by a lot of exercise and a raw foods diet?  Goody on for her.  That doesn't mean the same will work for me, you, or your other family members.

DIABETES FUCKING SUCKS.  There.  I said it.  I love bringing you guys the lighter, goofier side of things.  That's just my personality.  But at the end of the day?  I have a chronic illness.  It's not fun.  There are times I am actually working really hard to feel like a normal person.

And you?  Well, your love makes me feel like a regular, healthy woman.  Love me, through the ups, the downs, the highs, the lows, the middle-of-the-night juice run to the fridge, the disgruntled clack of an old infusion set against the wall because I just can't deal with one more failed site change.  Love me.  Everybody with diabetes needs love, kindness and respect. 

Getting on the Couch -- Week 2

So my last post was all about how I was heading to see a therapist for the first time.  What I didn't know until a couple of days ago is that it was voted one of the Best of the 'Betes blogs!  Woo hoo!  Yes, dear readers, honesty is the best policy.  A lot of you want to know how it went.  I'm not going to share all the details of all my therapist visits, obviously, but I do want to share a bit so you know what it's like.

I arrived at the office a few minutes early to fill out paperwork, just like going to any other doctor's office.  It was a Friday afternoon, and apparently their office doesn't have a receptionist on Fridays, so various psychologists/therapists/counselors would come in from a hallway door every few minutes.  Sometimes their patients were there waiting, sometimes they had to come back.  I was immediately made more comfortable by how personable everyone seemed when greeting their patients, but I was still nervous.  I am very slow when I'm writing by hand, so the first time my therapist popped his head out the door looking for me, I was not ready.  I was a wee bit embarrassed.

He came out again a few minutes later, and I was finally done scribbling.  He was smiley, had a very warm friendly vibe about him.  It could just be because he had nerdy glasses, and I tend to assume that people who dress like me are mostly trustworthy.  He apologized that the room we'd be going to didn't have any windows.  He said that being the newest to the practice, he didn't get much of a choice.  The room at least had comfy chairs, soothing lighting, and at least two boxes of tissues.

As far as I am able to tell, your first visit to your new therapist will involve filling out lots of paperwork and answering a lot of questions about your background and a little about yourself.  Hopefully, like my visit, it will involve feeling honest and content with the person you are seeing.  It may involve a tissue or two--I managed to not need any until the tail end.  I hope to have an interesting and enlightening experience with my therapist.  He apparently is also an art therapist, so of course I thought of Lee Ann when I was there and all the good that being creative can do for people. 

We'll see what goes on over the next few weeks.  Visit #2 is today at 3:00pm.  It's kind of a strange concept when it comes down to it--figuring out how to trust someone who is to be much more than a stranger to you, less than a friend.  I'm sure this is why your therapist will probably reassure you a number of times, as mine did, that you are in a safe space and everything you say will absolutely not leave the room.  (Unless of course, like in Pennsylvania, the state laws mandate that if you seem a true danger to yourself or others, you will be reported to...someone.  The therapist informed me this would not mean the cops would be waiting at my house for me.  And don't worry about me, I'm the variety of depressive who just mopes and gets cranky and wants to sleep.)

So I think it turns out your therapist is not someone to get nervous about.  You'll do fine.  I did.




PS...EEEEEK I AM IN KIND OF AN IMPORTANT POETRY SLAM TONIGHT AND I AM WIGGING OUT, MAN!  Whew, just had to put that out there. ;)

"Coming Down", as sung by My A1C

I've lately found I have a good rapport with my female health care providers.  Dr. M (my endocrinologist) and I get along fabulously.  At my last visit at my primary care doc's office, Kate, who is an amazing nurse practitioner, and the office nurse both remarked that they like when I come in to see them because I make them laugh.  I think being able to be yourself around your healthcare team is a huge key to success. 

Today, I went to Dr. M's office for a checkup.  She is a very nice woman, usually on the perky side, always willing to answer my questions and often smiling at my jokes, as hinted at above.  This is good, because I'm usually nervous when I go to the endo.  Not for anything she's doing wrong, mind you.  It's just me.  Thoughts of bad A1C's or surprise bad results on other lab work make me anxious.  

I've been told a million times that I am more than an A1C.  I am more than just diabetes.  Usually, this isn't an issue for me.  I live my life, I get along, and if diabetes tries to throw me a curveball, I do my best to catch it.  But when you're staring down the barrel of an endocrinologist appointment, it's easy to catalog all the things you haven't done right, all the things that could have been so much better if you just tried.  You worry.  You wonder what all the neglect is actually doing to your body on the inside.

I have said it here a zillion times:  I am a diabetes blogger.  I am not a model diabetes patient.  I don't have an amazing A1C.  Compared to some people, I may take "a lot" of insulin.  I am definitely not getting enough exercise.  I'm not a role model--I'm just a person who is here to share her experience, to find support, oh, and to mouth off when I feel like it.  Does the world need my 2 cents about living with diabetes?  I like to think so.  I enjoy being able to lend my unique perspective to the world.

I was able to start breathing the sighs of relief early in this appointment.  My blood pressure was great.  My weight was not really any different from last visit.  The nurse didn't even make a face when my BG reading was 235 mg/dl after lunch.  Dr. M came in pretty promptly, and we started talking about doing basal tests before we make any adjustments.  We talked about how I want to continue with the Symlin, even though I had taken a break from it.  We talked about her belly!  She's expecting her second child in January.  Then I talked about the biggie.

I told her I've been thinking about a Dexcom.  She said that normally, when people want to get an insulin pump and they haven't had one before, she doesn't just let them contact the company to ask about one.  She said she likes to meet with her patients and make sure they get the training they'll actually need.  Dr. M then told me for somebody considering a CGM and a sensor, she's quite happy to write a prescription for the system without any kind of preparatory visits.  She also reassured me that if I want to get a continuous glucose monitor, the Dexcom is the way to go.  She told me it wouldn't hurt if I also find some kind of exercise that I really like and start doing it.

So I have a plan for the next few months.  I won't see Dr. M again until April, when she is back from maternity leave. 

The biggest surprise today?  The in-office A1C test.  My last A1C was 9.8.  I know, nothing to cheer about, something to improve.  Today's A1C?  9.0!  Again, not perfect, but enough to make me do a little happy dance.  That's almost down a full point!  I was smiling; Dr. M was smiling and told me that was actually a great job and way better than she expected to see given some of my numbers we had been talking about.  It may be a tiny victory, but it's a victory for me nonetheless.

As Dr. M and I said our goodbyes, she told me to keep up the good work.  She then also added, "But make sure you really enjoy your Thanksgiving!"  I told her I was looking forward to the pie.  "And you should!" she said. 


I know I need to do some serious basal tests, but you know what's amazing?  When your endocrinologist acknowledges that you shouldn't guilt yourself along through a holiday.  I may just drink a toast to Dr. M with my turkey on Thursday. 

And in case you need a reference, here is the theme song to my A1C today: