Start All Over Again

After my last bought with unconsciousness my doctor had me change the basal rates on my pump. A basal rate, for those of you who don't know, is the hourly rate at which my pump gives me insulin. For example, if my basal rate is 1.3, over the course of an hour my pump gives me 1.3 units of insulin. What's a unit? I don't know. I think they're like the cc's of a syringe.

Anyway, my basal rate was too high overnight, which meant I was getting too much insulin and I was crashing hard. Since making the changes I haven't really crashed too bad, though I was kinda low this morning (however, this was also the first morning in a week I've been able to sleep in past 7:30 because we've been dealing with plumbers, so the fact that I only rolled out of bed a couple hours ago may have something to do with that.) I have been running a little HIGH though, which is upsetting.

Yeah. Like that.

 

I wish that I could get this right all of the time. I wish I could get out of bed in the morning and find my blood sugar at 100...and then make it all the way though the day and find that it has pretty much stayed there. I wish I could eat what I want and not have to guess if the carbs are going to break down right now, like when I eat bread, or three hours from now, like when I eat rice. I wish that every little thing that happened during the day didn't make my blood sugar do something completely unexpected. But wishin' don't make things happen, and I haven't been making things happen lately, either. If life is like Oregon Trail, then I fell off the exercise wagon before the wagon even made it to Ft. Laramie.

 

 

Twenty five years of playing this game I have never seen this screen before.

 

I have a bad habit of not wanting to do something if I'm not good at it. If I'm not going to be Ginger Rogers, I don't want to dance. It's part of my stupid perfectionism, which has been discussed at length before. It's not always a bad thing to want to be perfect, especially if I'm willing to work at being perfect, but the problem is I expect to wake up perfect and not have to work at it at all. Ginger Rogers may have been a fabulous dancer able to keep up with Fred Astaire, but both of them rehearsed long and hard to be able to do the things that they did. I mean, Fred Astaire destroyed pairs of shoes because he rehearsed so much even though he made it all look effortless, so clearly just being naturally talented wasn't enough for him.

 

Diabetes appears to be one of those things that I am not naturally talented at handling, so I have to put in the extra effort, and I admit here, now, on the Internet that never forgets anything, that I am not always willing to put in the work to be successful at it. It's hard to do everything my doctor says, follow a strict regime, eat the food I am supposed to and pass on the chocolate cake, only to fail. It's disheartening to know that no matter how good I am, how close to perfect I try to be, I can still wake up with fruit punch staining my pajamas and my husband staring at me with worry across his face.  It's Sisyphus all day, every day. No end, no win, no nothin'.

 

 

This lesson in Greek mythology brought to you by the Internet. 

 

 

This last week has been like that and I have let myself slide because it's easier than pushing the rock up the mountain only to watch it sliiiiiide back down. But I am not going to let myself be defeated. It's a new week, a new day, and another chance to pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again.

 



 

Dancing versus Rock Pushing....at least dancing is more entertaining!