Rainbow Cake

This past Saturday, I made it to a year with D. The plan was to go and get a celebratory helix piercing. I went to the effort of asking the cool kids down at MyD if there was anything I needed to worry about or do differently.  Morty didn't agree, threw a gigantic tantrum, and demanded the intake of enough food to last a large bear through hibernation. With little to nil insulin. I'm attempting making it to the piercists again tomorrow. Shhhh, no-one tell Morty.

After Saturday's explosion he settled down, staying on a happy 5 - 6 the whole next day. I even managed to attend a 2 year old's birthday party, eat pizza (low carb from Dominoes), a slice of this monster, and be on 5.9 afterwards.

On Monday Morty was tired of his good behavior and was back to his usual habits. Trying to sneak highs in when he thought my mind was elsewhere. What Morty doesn't realise is that after a year, my mind is never anywhere else. For the past few days I have had hypos at night, about 1 hour after dinner, after daytime filled with higher BGLs. Another positive for the whole 'lived with it for a year' thing: I can identify that there are different hypos. Daytime hypos feel like death at 4.0 with sweating, shaking, confusion and extreme hunger straight up. Exercise hypos are basically invisible save for loss of eyesight. And after dinner hypos I don't feel until I stand up. . Once I stand up I generally want to die instantaneously. I've usually hit mid 2's and going down hard (all that extra insulin...fun stuff).

Again, last night Morty tried the old after dinner hypo trick. Ivy, my CGM, told me to go check my BGLs because it was reading me as low.  I had JUST eaten dinner and didn't want food. So my lovely, lovely partner forced me to drink juice. It worked a little. Then he had me eat jellybeans. There was 1 left in the packet afterwards. I still felt low, but flatly refused to eat any more of the magical beans on the basis of "My mouth is too tired to chew". So my man picked it up and ate it. Later that night, after I had recovered from my hypo, I felt a desperate need to shame him like one of those dogs whose necks you hang the placard around. It would have read: "My girlfriend had a hypo and I ate her last jellybean". Only unlike the dogs he wouldn't look guilty. He'd be smiling.

So tomorrow I have to remember to buy more jellybeans, which I should have done today when I was buying test strips. Which I discovered I could have had for free because one of the doctors I work for had expired ones in her cupboard. Screw the 2 year past expiry date, I tested them and they worked fine. Probably don't try this at home. I don't recommend it. Always use in stock testing strips. Only problem is, they work for the meter that has just been recalled. Which is my favourite meter EVER. So sad. Maybe I can just refuse to check my BGLs. Or you know, go back to using its predecessor. That might work.

Now all that's left on my 1 year checklist of diabetes is to get Morty back under control and I'm set to go. Where, I don't know. Onward with life I guess. I survived 1 year, whats 60 more? Alot of maths and insulin, that's what.

Harry Potter Meets D

Hugh's brother thinks I'm a diabetic Nazi. This is very likely true. I don't really know how else to be when it comes to my Diabetes. I don't really think that it's fair to expect me just take all the really annoying, critical and misinformed things people say about my diabetes lying down. This will only encourage people to say stupid things. And one day soon, my tolerance for stupid might rupture and smash, and screaming shards of Ashleigh will rain down on all the stupid people who have said or done stupid things in regards to my diabetes.

 I am very assertive when it comes to my D, because I can't escape it. D is like having another, very immature, attention seeking person trapped in my body. Let's call him Shane. Actually my uncle Shane was one of the 1st people to say something incredibly dumb about my D: He told me that I had eaten too much sugar and needed to exercise more. I vaguely wondered whether he realised that I was in better shape than him, or if he had actually met me before. Perhaps my whole childhood was an illusion and we never actually encountered each other. Maybe let's not call my diabetes Shane. We'll call it Morty. Sort of short for Voldemort.

Morty is an ever-present, cruel and twisted person. He took over my body without asking first. Kind of just sidled in there whilst I was sleeping. During the take-over he was subtle, throwing me off his scent by blending his attributes with the familiar side effects of a cold. When he was certain he could win, and that I could no longer fight back he deftly dealt a killing blow to my beta cells, killing them off forever. Making me dependent on his every whim, need and want.

Since that day I have had a very long time to get to know Morty. His childish behavior is worse than that of Brangelina's large and neglected troupe. If you ask him to do something, he may well just do the opposite to prove to you that he's in charge.  I have given him many stern talking-to's about such behavior, to which his reply is a sullen look and pout of defiance. Like any 3 year old, he can be cajoled into good behavior if you give him what he wants for a while. But again, like any 3 year old, he grows bored quickly and its back to the drawing board on how to reign control of him.

Morty is evil and conniving. He's very bad at hiding this and these particular traits of his are as obvious as the lack of conk on his namesakes face (if you watch the special features for HP: GOF Ralph Fiennes refers often to his nose as a conk. Trust me, it's funny). I know exactly when he will attempt to finish the job and am learning the skills to combat these frequent attacks of his. They aren't as sneaky as he thinks they are. I know for a fact he will always try to snuff me out during exercise. This is usually when he calls on his goonies, the friendly guards of Azkaban. I believe JK Rowling directly linked our soul-less mates to depression. I think she's wrong. Doesn't matter that she wrote the books, she's wrong. They are merely vessels for Morty's hypo attacks. You can't tell me I'm wrong - They make you shake, break out in a cold clammy sweat, you become disoriented and confused. Harry Potter even passes out. They make you feel as though there is no hope left in the world. And of course, you treat a dementor attack with chocolate.

Morty is there all the time. When you want alone time, to go to the toilet, have sexy times. He's ALWAYS there. You can throw an invisibility cloak over him for a little while but even if he's being quiet and still Mrs. Norris will still manage to sniff him out, and Filch will come screaming around the corridor and it's all ruined. No quiet time with Morty.

I'm still learning more about Morty every day. I'm also learning that everything makes more sense when everyone and everything has to do with diabetes (Seriously - to the other D's out there you will hopefully understand. Anything that happens EVER can be explained by the person doing the stuff being Diabetic). And if I went to hogwarts I would invent an ever-lasting insulin potion. Or a spell like Carbiuscountius revealio. And if my D really was Voldemort, I guess I would be Harry Potter, my endo and educator Hermione and Ron. Neville is definitely my pump Lewis. And my all-wise, all seeing CGM would probably be Dumbledore. But he dies in the end so I'm not sure what that means.

And I don't think that Harry Potter defeating Voldemort is a cure. I think it just means that I will best Morty yet, and he will just have to take the back-seat to what I want to do in life.

More Support Than My B-Cup Bra Can Give

Yesterday morning I logged onto facebook at work. (Yes, I'm a little bit naughty like that. But it was technically 6 minutes before my work started). I saw I had been tagged in a post by TJ (the same lovely lady I am doing the fun run with).

I opened it and went into some sort of shock. TJ had signed up to do the jump for diabetes - for myself and all other T1 diabetics out there. She doesn't know anyone else with Type 1. I haven't seen her since before my diagnosis. I don't even know how she knew about this fundraiser! I was and still am deeply overwhelmed by it. I may have cried a little at work. Emily at work might have thought I was crazy, crying at facebook.

I don't really know how to describe what I felt when I read her post. I think it was the singular most beautiful moment since my diagnosis. It was the moment when I knew, really knew that I wasn't in this alone. That people cared. To someone suffering from a chronic illness, this sort of unprecedented support means a lot. Its hard not to feel alienated and a burden to everyone else when your whole life is now incorporated into some disease. Sometimes I feel like my life is this disease constantly. Its an amazing feeling when you realise other people care what you're going through, and you know you can escape for a little while, be with other people and be a normal, unaflicted human being.

It's bizarre the way an illness like diabetes can show you who you can rely on and who your biggest support is. TJ and I have a funny sort of relationship. We can go for many many years with only the occasional bit of contact, a short message to say happy birthday perhaps. But when we reconnect, there never seems to have been any time missed. We can pick up where we let off. She will always be one of my closest friends, no matter how long we don't see or talk to each other. She is an amazing, selfless, giving person, and I will adore her forever.

I don't know how to thank her, whether she raises the money needed or not (although I will try my hardest to help her get there), I am so grateful for what she has given to me and other diabetics already. I am so grateful for her for reminding me that life isn't all chronic illness - its a whole lot of love, friendship and happiness as well. And hope. That one day there will be a cure. When there is, I can turn to TJ and thank her for it.

Jess - love you forever sweetie!!

(PS - anyone wanting to donate can do so at this link: http://fundraise.teamcurediabetes.org.au/jessica_king_90)

Jess & I

Perhaps we need to get some updated pictures!!! 

Running? Ashleigh? Really?

Yesterday I commited myself to a challenge. I'm trying very hard to uphold my New Year's resolutions and am becoming a little bit of a 'Yes Man', if it means living a fuller, funner life.

So Travis Jesus, a girl I will love forever and ever and is simply amazing, had decided to do the Mother's Day Fun Run. Spontaneous me said yes. Thinking Ashleigh agreed with spontaneous Ashleigh and they are both very happy with their mutual decision. I hate exercising 'for no reason', so this will give me a reason.

Anyhow, seeing as the Fun Run actually includes running, I thought I should start training ASAP. Otherwise for me the fun run will be a fun hobble. Today I walked and jogged  (fartlek training I think its called) 3.8km in 30 mins. I think in fit people terms, this is probably terrible. But I'm not fit, so I was happy. 

I started working out the logistics of this fun run D-wise. First up, it became pretty apparant that I need to get some sort of running belt to hold all my D-crap. Like a Spi-Belt. Tomorrow I will drag Hugh out to some sort of sporting apparel store and he can buy me one for our anniversy (which he will be happy with becasue he won't have to think of what to get me). I think I will also go and see if I can swangle an Accu-Chek mobile from the rep next week, so I can have an all-in-one glucometer, lancing device and built in strips. Currently I have D-supplies exploding everywhere which won't make running any easier. 

As I build up my fitness (or so I hope) I will have to figure out my pump settings. Today in half an hour I dropped 4 points.

Exercise and BGLs

And thats where Ivy comes in. I kept my pump on, but on suspend during my walog (walk/jog), so that my CGM (Ivy) could continue to transmit exactly what was happening. It was a pretty steady decrease, which was good, instead of a sharp decrease. I'll continue on with Ivy and see what she tells me. Next time I'll carbo-load beforehand and see what happens, if I peak and drop or hold steady.

Ivy - The Face of Continuous Blood Glucose Monitoring

And right about now TJ is probably wondering what she got herself into. Me? I'm excited as all hell!!! Bring it on.

Red is For Cranky

The big 'D' badge has opened my eyes to a lot of things in 10 short months. I know about and have thought about issues that I am sure I barely knew existed before my diagnosis. I know about healthcare and what and how I can claim things for free. I know about how to treat people, all people, who are suffering medical problems of their own - like real people. 

I also know a heck of a lot more about discrimination, and I know that it goes on in ways you wouldn't even realize. Everyone knows about racism, sexism, religious right, gay rights and working rights. But how much do people see past that? Do they think about the fact that old people are discriminated against at medical centers or supermarkets simply because they are old and slow have a lot of problems and therefore are 'hard to deal with'. Or perhaps that person with anxiety who's medical team dismiss them because its 'all in their head' and everything that happens to them ever is a symptom of their mental illness. Discrimination happens everywhere, all the time, and I'm fast learning that a whole lot happens in the medicine industry. Its in every industry.

I'm that person who is discriminated against, but I'm not old, or African, or gay. I'm that person because I tick the box that say's I have diabetes.

I am discriminated against medically. By professionals (although thankfully my team right now are brilliant and I wouldn't give them up for anything!) and non-professionals. Oh, you have diabetes? You must have eaten too much sugar and fatty foods and you don't exercise enough.  You have another problem? Its because of your poor control. No other explanation or tests necessary. Diabetics pay the higher item number, even if we're well controlled because we *might* get complications in the future.

I am discriminated against socially. Going somewhere? Let's not invite the type 1 because she might have a hypo and we don't want to deal with that. Or assume that when we go out to dinner we can't eat anything 'normal', and that's just too much effort.

I am discriminated against by the transport authorities, who make ridiculous judgement about my ability to drive. 

I know when I am being discriminated against and I can do something about it. But there are those that can't. And this whole post really is about the anger I felt last weekend hearing about discrimination to a young T1 boy. 

Last weekend I went out with a friend for her sister's birthday. The girl sitting across from me worked in daycare. She noticed me doing a small calculation and it was revealed I had diabetes. So as you do, she decides to tell me about the 3 year old at her daycare that has diabetes. And proceeded to blast the crap out of his mother for allowing him to go to daycare like any other kid. She held the belief that she shouldn't have to be the one pricking his fingers and giving his shots because it was disgusting and gross (honest to god, you work in daycare...do you not deal with kids crapping and peeing their pants all day?). 

Apparently his mother should just keep him at home every single day and not allow him to learn any social skills because for 5 minutes  a day, it was a mild inconvenience for her to have to take care of him. Bitch, you're being paid to do this. His mother isn't, and this is a full-time job for her every minute she's with him. Not being allowed to go to daycare because you don't want to have to take 2 seconds to take a BGL is ridiculous. She immediately thought less of this child, of his mother because he has diabetes. He is not worth her time because he takes that little bit of extra attention.

He will face this when he goes to school. When he enters the work force and he has to hide his diabetes during his interviews. When he has kids his ability to be a good father may be questioned when he has a hypo and his attention lapses for a second. 

And I wish he didn't face it. Diabetes is hard enough, without people making access to normal things harder than it is to any other person. 

Apocalypse Now

My power is *finally* back on. The insulin in my fridge survived, and therefore so will I. Despite this crazy storm (which I don't really consider a storm due to lack of thunder and lightning, very very frightening) my D is behaving very well. Sort of. As well as can be expected when you have been unable to do any exercise or cook any decent D-friendly meals due to power outages. 

Anyhow, so yesterday after our power went off Hugh and I realised we had no non-cookable food in the house, save 1/2 a box of cereal, some crackers and cheese and potato chips. Oh and a carrot or 2 as well. So we toddled off to IGA and went apocalpyse shopping, as you do when you need food that doesn't require electricity to make. We stocked up on water, muesli bars, cold meats that we expected to last a few days in the freezer (which was still quite cool), bread items and a few other things in the event of no power deciding to stay around for a few days. I'm pretty sure our whole suburb had migrated to IGA for their apocalypse shops (by apocalypse shop, I mean those scenes in movies where everyone is frantically running around the grocery store with trolley-loads of food and looks of madness in their eyes). It was sort of a weird thing actually, to go from 1 suburb in complete darkness void of any signs of life, and then you cross a road and there's lights and sirens and people, and did I mention light?

Somehow the subject came up as we were driving home as to what we would do if there was an apocalypse like scenario for realsies. More importantly, what would we do in regards to my D in said apocalypse like scenario. Oddly, both of us had thought about this before. The general agreement was that my D supplies would be first into the survival tool kit. I would need to change my glucometer back the standard Verio because the IQ is rechargeable. We would travel to my work, because I have the keys and therefore wouldn't need to get all bloody and tired out smashing windows. We'd take all the insulin from the fridge in there. I would gather all the spare meter cases and take the batteries from them, as well as taking about 5 spare meters, and anything else laying around that would be of use. I would then break into the pharmacy directly next door, because they are always super-stocked with strips (being right next door to an endo and all).  Take any more glugacon, insulin and needles I could find  and all their jellybeans. Good to go medic wise!

After this and the usual looting of other required necessities to live we would head out to the country and go all "Tomorrow When the War Began" style and set-up in the bush somewhere near a creek, so I could find a spot to immerse all the insulin in the water to keep it cool (in water-proof bags of course). We would collect animals for food, for by-products, and in case I ran out of insulin and needed to harvest any (not that I would have a clue how to do this, but its all trial and error, eventually we'd get it right). 

Then we'd pretty much sit tight until the world resolved itself, occasionally staving off zombie attacks (not that there should be too many out in the bush). Hopefully this would happen before my insulin expired or I ran out of test strips (which I would have to cut back use on majorly, and pretty much use only when I felt hypo or exceedingly high). 

End Zombie scenario. It's good to know you got these things covered.

An Appropriate End

I guess it seems appropriate that my honeymoon phase would seem to end as New Year approaches. Or if it's not ending, my diabetes has thrown one last 2012 curveball at me. Either way, the result is needing more insulin, and being completely stuck about it. Yes, it chose the holiday period, when my educator and endo are closed. I think it must be testing me 1 more time to see how I could handle it. So here's how I handled it as the days went by:

- 1st few days - Frowned slightly and thought BGL machine must be off. Blamed no exercise but not my eating because I'm actually alright with my diet and have been losing weight through diet alone.

- End of 1 st week - Head in sand. Blamed Christmas. Even though I ate heaps good during Christmas and was very active.

 - Week 2 - Do about 1/2 my normal BG checks. After all everyone knows that if you can't see a bad BG, it doesn't exist.

 - Mid Week 2 - Sick of constant headaches. Up my meal time insulin. No Change. Turn into sulky cow.n

 - Now - Have massive tantrum. Exercise like crazy with my pump on. BG goes super high after exercise, but not a hypo rebound. Throw another tantrum. Get on Facebook and see a post on Zayla's page. Realise I CAN still walk, I CAN still see, I DON'T have any complications yet (apart from High Blood Pressure but we'll get to that later) so I CAN do something about my diabetes misbehaving. 

 - Last 1/2 an hour - Restarted a BGL diary including all exercise, food consumed listed, blood pressure readings, anything that might have an impact on my D. Didn't change any insulin rates but we'll see what my diary shows up and work from there.

So I think I did alright, and it will get better. I think its ok to ignore it for a little while, that's all part of the process of accepting it and learning to do something about it. 

And I think 2013 will be a better year. After all, in 2012 I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. 2012 consisted of me learning how to stab  needles into my stomach several times a day, force  blood from my finger tips until they ached every 3 hours or so, learn to change and insert my own cannulae sets, get regular blood tests, go high, go low and everything in between. I was told I had my 1st complication  - high blood pressure. They started me on tablets. I refused to take them. Instead I changed my diet (not tremendously but enough) and exercised (more). Now I'm regularly sitting at 120 - 130/70 - 75 instead of 135 - 160/80 - 110.

I of course have made some D goals for 2013 - maintain good control and even though it seems my honeymoon is ending, try to minimise insulin usage by keeping my body as insulin sensitive as possible. I'm going to get CGM. Even though it means another device attached all the time and moolahs. 

But in 2013 I am also going to make it a goal to LIVE more. Diabetes swallowed 2012 whole for me and I didn't let myself have a break from being the best D I could. So I'm going to relax (hence the CGM - less worry! I can see what's happening). In 2013 I'm going to TAKE UP drinking. I know that everyone else says they will stop. But I never drink!! And I want to! I know I won't go crazy, so I will happily let myself venture out from my own self-made shell and EXPERIENCE life. See more, do more! Blow all my money (my parents will be so upset...I was always the 'smart and sensible' one) and buy expensive clothes that I'll only wear once.

BRING IT ON!!!!

Something about me, beaches and insulin pumps

I will never say I'm happy or glad to have diabetes. No-one in their right mind would. But there are some things about diabetes that I wouldn't feel or experiance without this disease. 

I feel the strongest sense of advocacy and passion when it comes to educating others about this disease. I have a strong direction in life, one that I wouldn't have had without diabetes.

I can appreciate my health and my access to medical care. Before diabetes I thought a cold or flu was the worst thing in the world. I never considered how another person might be living, and how they would survive. I have insulin, so I can live. In another country, I would die a slow and painful death becuase I would be unable to afford insulin. Forget clean and fresh needles everytime I want to inject. The insulin pump wouldn't be a possibility either. Yes, I might get complications from my diabetes. But here, I have the tools I need to hopefully avoid them.

Mostly, I'm discovering more and more how amazing diabetics are. How much they are willing to give and to support each other through this horrible disease. I love meeting other diabetics (and I'm super excited to be going to the Brisbane young adult T1D meet up for the 1st time this month) and hearing their stories. Knowing you're not alone and that other people understand helps so much. So far I've found that everyone is happy to offer advice and listen to your D problems.

Through my diabetes I can collect stories I would not have had without diabetes.

Today I woke up at 6.30am, and actually felt like getting up. Early waking turned into a spontaneous mini-road trip to Caloundra. It was the perfect day for it. I usually hate the water because I'm a major wuss when it comes to temperature. But it was just right. After a short dip, I reattached my pump and moved my towel to a beautifully sunny spot to sunbathe. Lewis clipped to my bikini top. As I lay there, slightly dozing, Lewis vibrated. Pulling Lewis off my bikini, I held him high to the sky and cleared the 'Check BG' message. A small voice behind me piped up: "Look! She's bolusing!". Next thing I knew, 3 small children had scurried in front of me. Silently, the eldest looking girl shyly unzipped a belt attached to her waist (the whole time I was thinking, lucky shes not an adult man or I would've run away screaming by now). She held out her own, bright blue insulin pump .  Her mum a safe distance away, we chatted for a little while about the big D. I was so amazed by her acceptance of her condition at such a young age and her want to reach out to others in the same situation. She made contact with me. She didn't care that she had had pancreatic failure far longer than I had, which weirdly, is something I always feel slightly odd about. I feel kind of bad for not having it earlier when so many kids have to go through it. Yes, I am a little crazy and my head doesn't think rationally most of the time. She was just happy to share her experiance and feel connected to another human being.

I love connections. She made my day.

Later my partner and I calculated the odds of sitting right next to someone else on that beach with an insulin pump. And who also came from the same hometown as us (Jervis Bay, NSW). But I can't remember the number he came up with now. Oh well.

And So it Continues

I'm hurtling towards the end of the 1st leg of my life with D. 8 months have come and gone. In that time I have completely faced and locked horns with my fear of needles, and I'm pretty sure I'm winning. I have seen numbers that give me nightmares. I have learnt the carb count of coco pops off by heart. I have hypoed; stuck in my car waiting for my numbers to climb more times than I care to count. I got my licence...with D (which actually, I think one of the major reasons I was passed was because of the way I handled D in the exam). I have eaten a sausage flavoured jellybean - consequently I will never keep 'Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans' as a hypo treatment anymore. I was diagnosed with high blood pressure. I have seen my first World Diabetes Day come and go and spammed my Facebook with it. I have realised how little people know about T1 Diabetes. And that it just not possible for me to punch everyone who says something dumb about it to me in the face. 

I met Lewis. 

As we round closer to the Christmas end of my 1st year with D I wonder what to expect. Obviously, I'll eat whatever the hell I want. I'm T1. In saying that, I do try to keep a low GI diet. 

I don't want any presents. I usually know what I want, but this year, I haven't got a clue. I've been so pre-occupied with BGLs and set changes and all that other diabetes crap that I haven't had the time to even go to a shop and see whats new. I guess what I'd love most would be for Santa to swing his big old sack over and  come good on my lifetime warranty on my pancreas, agree to take mine back to the store for a new one. But I don't think that's happening any time soon. And it wouldn't be Santa dishing out those goods.

I have to face my family. My family is huge, loud and most of the time I'm with them, they are all yelling at each other about how much they all hate each other in the nicest way possible. I've seen all my dad's family since diagnosis, and actually they're pretty good. Besides one uncle who told me to lay off the sugar (and who could lay off the sweet stuff himself), they all seem to want to know more. My immediate family are a little less awesome. I have 3 siblings who, at the mention of my diabetes, manage to all develop spontaneous hearing impairment until the topic is changed. Or who, in the case of my little brother, will adamantly tell me I can't eat chocolate before developing this rare spontaneous hearing loss impairment when an explanation as to why I can is entered into. My dad is my dad. He has himself to look after. My mum tries very hard. But she thinks 10 is amazeballs and I'll die if I hit 4. She also thinks its helpful to tell me stories about 'this one old person she looked after' and how they're on dialysis and blind and missing 20 limbs because of their diabetes. Thankyou. I wasn't scared enough already.

So I will face my mums family. I see them once every 2 years. Usually at weddings. Or Christmas. They're probably all likely to think my glucometer is some sort of fancy blood alcohol measuring device and will probably all demand to use it to see if they can drive at the end of the day. Except for J. My cousin. Diagnosed with T1D years ago. And I'm actually really nervous about seeing him. I don't know why. He has D, I have D.

But I'm definitely avoiding this.

Fixation on the Number Game

I'm a bit of a perfectionist and an anal-fixated bitch monster when it comes to D, or so I'm told by my loving boyfriend. Now that the warmer weather seems to be finally here (Thankyou October! A bit late, but I guess late is better than never) my D has gone completely spastic and is playing by the rules. Anyone with D will know that when your D behaves itself, you need to sleep with one eye open because  its going to try to kill you. D doesn't behave and isn't nice. 

I downloaded my pump yesterday to discover I had done a whopping 125 readings in 2 weeks. Thats 125 holes in my fingers for you non-D there. And when you count the amount of finger-pricks that didn't bleed and had to be redone and the number of: 'Not enough Blood' error messages, we are probably looking at closer to 160.

According to my download, in the last 2 weeks I have managed to get my average reading to 5.3. (even with high morning BGs usually in the 7's. They were normally my highest BGs of the day) Gold! I wish I could get my HbA1c taken right now (Yeah who'd have thought, ME wishing to be able to do a blood test), but I'm not due for that for another month and havent been given a repeat pathology request. Not that it really matters because I can easily print one off myself at work. But I will hold out because that wouldnt be 3 months and so thats not fair. To whom I'm not sure, perhaps the magical HbA1c fairy, who I think likes to play lottery with all your readings over the past 3 months, and just selects the 1st ball to come out and pronounces that your number.

In any case, I looked at my near-perfect readings for the past 2 weeks and I still  wasn't happy enough. Anything over a 7 in the past weeks and I have been ready to cry. I am obsessed. I don't like seeing a 7, 8 or 9 and certainly anything over 10 means sudden death to me. A 6 I will begrudgingly accept. A 5 I love. 4 I am happy with (unless I want to drive) but I am very wary of those goblin numbers. 4's can lead to evil things, such as 3's, and 3's ruin your day.

I just don't think being a perfectionist and having diabetes is a good idea. I'm not even happy with my current 6.4 HbA1c. I won't be until its in the non-diabetic range, which basically pregnant women and some really rare type 2's have. And non-diabetics of course.

I think about my diabetes constantly. Probably the equivalent a guy thinks about putting his wang in things. 6 out of 8 websites I visit are diabetes related. I work for an endocrinologist. I want to be an educator when I finally feel ready to face study again. Diabetes is my life. And it frustrates me that people don't get that. I AM anal-fixated. Wouldn't you be if it was your eyesight, your legs, your sensations, your kidneys, your teeth, your ability to pro-create, your gastro-system and much more on the line? 

Except for the part where I get irritated if things are taking too long to smooth out (3 days) and change everything without asking, my endo and DE love me. Myself on the other hand, hates me. Anal-fixated Ashleigh is tired and cranky all the time from the stress of trying to keep it under control. She stops herself from eating even if she's hungry because her numbers are good and she doesn't want to risk 'ruining them'. She is a hard-assed hydra with eyes watching her every move, ready to criticise a mere 8.3, which, when she allows herself to step back and look at things in an objective (did I use the right one? objective, subjective... one of those) light, isn't that bad. 

I wish I could take a break and just forget about diabetes for a day. But the fact of the matter is, I can't. I just need to learn to take a breather every now and again and accept that sometimes, I can't control the numbers. I have to just roll with it and fix things as they happen. I need to learn that mistakes are only human, and I have the rest of my life to try to control the massive blunder that my immune system made, because D's not going anywhere, and I can't sustain this.