The Diaversary that Wasn’t . . . .

My diaversary (or the anniversary of my diabetes diagnosis) falls some time in December.  My hospital records are long gone and we’ve forgotten exactly which day I was rushed in and diagnosed, so I usually pick the middle of the month, December 15th, to mark the occasion.

This year makes 36 years I’ve lived with diabetes.  Pete and I usually celebrate.  We aren’t celebrating the fact that I have diabetes.  After all, although I firmly believe “life with diabetes isn’t all bad”, I most certainly would rather not have to live with this (or any) chronic illness.  But we still celebrate, to acknowledge how far I’ve come, how far treatments have come, how much work we put into keeping me healthy, and that I’m still here and (mostly) kicking diabetes’ butt.

So I had last Tuesday all planned out.  First I’d blog about my diaversary, which I do every year.  Then I’d head out of finish my Christmas shopping and stop at Crumbs for celebratory cupcakes.  And that evening, Pete wanted to take me out for a nice dinner.

None of that happened.  I woke up Tuesday feeling depressed by the weight of 36 years.  I was thankful to still be alive and healthy, but I hated everything about living with diabetes.  I didn’t have it in me to celebrate.  I didn’t even have it in me to leave the house.  I vented to a group of trusted friends in a private Facebook group (which helped a lot, so thank you!!).  And then I climbed back into bed to watch T.V. and snuggle K.C. (who was an overjoyed kitten loving the extra attention).

It kind of seems stupid and whiney now.  I don’t quite know what my problem was.  But on the other hand, diabetes can be so demanding and if I needed  a day to wallow I guess that’s okay.  By Friday I was ready to buy those cupcakes, but alas our Crumbs is closed again, apparently for good this time.  Oh well.  Pete wanted to reschedule our fancy dinner for a day that I’m feeling up for it, so we have plans to go tomorrow.  And who knows, maybe tomorrow is actually the day of my 36th diaversary.  But whether it is or isn’t, I want the dinner to be about Pete and I spending a nice evening together and not about 36 years of this chronic illness. 

This year, I guess I’m just not into my diaversary.   I just need the diaversary that wasn’t . . . . .

Push Through or Give In . . .

I believe one of the things diabetes has taught me over the years is when I should push through and when I should give in.  For example, there are some low blood sugars that I’m able to treat and just keep on with what I’m doing.  And there are some that make me give in and sit down for 10 (or 15 or 20) minutes while my blood sugar recovers and I’m able to get back to living life.  High blood sugars are similar - sometimes I can just bolus my correction and get on with things while the insulin works it’s magic.  Other times, I need to stop and check for ketones, have some water and re-check often to be sure the insulin is doing what it’s supposed to.  Judging whether I’m in a Give In or Push Through situation isn’t always easy, but usually I know which is the right thing to do.  (Even if I don’t like it and don’t want to admit it.)

The skill of knowing when to push through and when to give in is something I can (and should) carry over into my non-diabetes life as well.  In fact, today is the perfect case in point.  I woke up this morning feeling a little tired but that’s not all that unusual when you have a husband who snores and a cat who likes to sleep on one of your knees.  (She may be less than 10 pounds, but it feels like a ton when she’s resting it all on one of my knees.)  As I drank my much needed coffee the sneezing began.  And it didn’t let up.  I’m literally stopping every 20 seconds to reach for more tissues and my nose is turning a festive red.  “It’s okay” I thought “I can still push through.”.  Then my throat began hurting.  And my eyes were begging for a nap.  And some chills and aches crept in.  And I’ve decided today is not a day to push through.

I think that without diabetes, I’d probably force myself through the day.  And I’d probably do a crappy job on everything because I’m not feeling well.  Instead, I’m smart enough to realize it’s time to give in.  I’m going to close the lid on my laptop, brew a cup of tea with honey, and curl up on the couch with a blanket, my cat and Netflix.  And everything else?  I can deal with that all tomorrow.  Because in the words of my favorite heroine . . .

“After all, tomorrow is another day.”

(In fact, the heck with Netflix, today might be the perfect day to pop on my Gone with the Wind DVD again!)

Auto-Pilot . . . .

Lately I feel as if Otto has taken over.  That is to say, diabetes seems as if it’s running in auto-pilot.  (Also that link is, of course, from Airplane!  So it is, of course, NSFW.)

That’s not to say diabetes management has exactly been easy, because diabetes is rarely easy.  There are still spikes and lows and pieces that didn’t go exactly as planned.  But nothing out of the ordinary and certainly nothing worth blogging about.  Last month I went to the endo and all was well - except that we upped my Vitamin D dose again.  If that’s all I need to worry about after almost 36 years with diabetes, I consider myself pretty lucky.  The Thanksgiving weekend brought such a great string of blood sugars that I had to wonder if I had a few islet cells kicking in valiantly before being wiped out by my immune system.  (Taking my parent’s dog for a walk after our turkey dinner didn’t hurt either.  But it was a pretty slow walk because she insisted on stopping to sniff EVERY SINGLE LEAF!!)  But all in all, things have been pretty quite over here, diabetes-wise.

I appreciate the small breaks when I can get them.  Even if it doesn’t leave me with much that’s blog-worthy to write about.  I can sacrifice blog material for the chance to let diabetes run on auto-pilot while I focus on other parts of life.  After all, history has taught me that this won’t last too long, so I’ll enjoy it while I can!