I tried to write something last night, but it just wasn't coming. Then I stepped on the elliptical this morning, and had about 10 different Oprah "a-ha" moments, epiphanies, and flashes of clarity. I love how clear my thinking is when I exercise, I just wish it would translate to the blog. Here is an attempt:
For years, I have held onto that ol' diabetes "chip on the shoulder." My diabetes friends will know what I am talking about. That guttural reaction when someone says, "Should you eat that?" or "Can you even have kids if you have diabetes?" I used to want to shout from the clock tower, "I can have cake, too! I am no different! This isn't your Grandma's diabeetus!" And instead of turning that guttural reaction on the person actually asking those questions, I turned it on my diabetes. "Diabetes, look what I have to put up with because of you!" The resentment quietly built onto itself, and I spent years trying to "prove" to my diabetes (a label, a name, a medical diagnosis) that I could do these things anyway.
The truth is, I am different. I do have to consider just how much I would have to bolus for that cake, and whether the brief taste is worth the variability of just how quickly, how high, how long those carbs will affect my blood sugars. Is it worth it to me just to prove I can? To something that cannot respond back? The short answer is no.
I started eliminating more carbs from my diet. I'm not calling it any particular diet (paleo, caveman, etc.) because I am doing it slowly and seeing how my blood sugar improves from each change. It is literally trial and error until I find what works, and instead of shoveling the carbs in and letting the chips fall where they may because so there, I am really trying to navigate my own body, blood sugars, and how they respond to the things I put in it. Understanding the complexities of this disease and the human body is probably the equivalent of a bachelor's degree of learning. Throw on top of that the variables of stress, individual lifestyles, imprecise measurement, and my favorite: completely random, unexplained fluctuations in blood sugar, despite my 4.0 GPA in this major of diabetes. In an effort to eliminate the variables, I started to cut out the carbs. I already avoided things like pasta, pizza, Chinese food, but that smoothie for breakfast was really wreaking havoc. Instead of fighting it because "I should be able to have this!" I let it go. Even in the continuum of people with Type I diabetes, I seem particularly sensitive to any carbs, and also more insulin resistant than the average diabetic. Not a good combo.
I am not done with them completely. I am still holding onto my yogurt and peanut butter at lunch. And of course my treatment of lows. That is a whole other blog post, but suffice it to say that I have had to fully embrace glucose tablets as my primary treatment of lows because of the variability factor. Some things are worth the carbs, like trying Ellie's oatmeal she made out of her new cookbook, all by herself
Making these changes, in addition to increasing my exercise to every other day, has resulted in a major breakthrough in the plateau I seemed to be on in my long-term weight loss. I am now only about 7 lbs away from my ultimate, healthy goal weight, after hovering between 10-15 lbs away for what seemed like an eternity. Seeing results and physically feeling the changes in my body has resulted in an unexpected new wrinkle in this disease: grace. No chip on the shoulder. No resentment. Just grace.
This new wrinkle presented itself recently when I was denied a life insurance policy, primarily for my high A1C (8.7). At first, I wanted to write a letter explaining the inaccuracies in taking an average to determine one's overall health, citing examples of people with better A1C's who may have been hospitalized for lows, etc. Etc. I may have even vented about my denial to some friends. When all was said and done, however, my A1C was still 8.7 and I was too much of a risk of death to be insured. Not cool. Grace stepped in, and all of the things that previously caused feelings of resentment and anger (testing, wearing my sensor, changing my site and not keeping it in for just one more day, testing), ceased in making me feel those things anymore. Just like that.
Why do I make things harder than they need to be? If I fight it, I suffer. My family suffers. The truth is, I am a better mother and wife when my blood sugars are in good standing. It's part of our normal routine for Jack to bring my sensor to me from the other room, alerting me to the up or down arrows, and knowing what they mean. Ellie reads my blog over my shoulder (hi, Ellie!) and asks good questions. Steve puts up with my incessant beeping at night, and knows when I just need him to listen or act (new Fitbit for Christmas!).
Type I Diabetes Mellitus, dx 4/92, listen to me now: I don't want to fight with you. We have been fighting for over 20 years and I am tired. I am willing to work with you. We can do this together.
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