I've been feeling pretty good about my diabetes lately. Which is to say that it hasn't weighed too heavily on my heart or mind. I've still had to deal with the inevitable highs and lows, the adjusting and all the calculations, but for some reason, it hasn't felt like such a burden. Hooray, I've been thinking.
And then today, I'm changing out my site and in a blink of an eye, I'm pulled back to that sad, hurt place I've been in so many times before. The insertion itself hurt, the insulin stung because it was too cold, the tubing got tangled in my tights and slip and undershirt and skirt, which made my still recovering frozen shoulder ache as I wrestled to get everything untangled. I had to stop, take a deep breath and start over. Basically get undressed and slowly add the layers of clothes on in a way that didn't tug on my site (a thing that always makes me feel a bit nauseated) or make it impossible to get access to the pump when I need to bolus later. It took a minute, but when it was all done, I literally had to fight back the tears. My leg where the site was, was aching. My shoulder was also aching. And my heart was aching too. It took a moment to collect myself. It was amazing. Weeks of zooming along with no problems, with feeling like everything was fine and then, boom, in one minute, I'm near tears. Amazing. Strange. So very "this disease" for me.
I guess in the end, these moments are inevitable. I guess the goal is to have more time in between them. I guess that's really what success looks like, at the end of the day. More happiness and well being, without the expectation of perfection or the inevitable disappointment when it isn't achieved. I know that's the case. But on those moments when I'm so sharply brought back to the pain and frustration and sadness of having to deal with this disease, I sometimes forget that.