aiming for grace

what's in a number?

What's in a number? With diabetes, so much and in so many ways, nothing at all. At times I feel like I'm drowning in numbers, blood sugar readings, insulin dosages, carb ratios, A1c's. I'm swimming in numbers to the point that on some levels I'm numb to them. I'm really commited to my diabetes care but at the same time so buffeted by the sheer volume of numbers I have to navigate to take care of myself, that they can start to loose meaning to me. More accurately actually, they start to loose their impact. I notice them and I react, but it's pretty rare that they actually stop me in my tracks anymore. And on the whole, that's probably the healthiest way to be. I can't imagine reacting strongly to every low or high, every numerical detail I have to deal with in living with diabetes.

Which isn't to say that once in a while a number doesn't catch me off guard or send me for a loop now and again. Yesterday was one of those times. I went to my quarterly check up with my doctor, downloaded my meter, weighed myself on the scale and pricked my finger for my latest A1c. Then on to the examination room to discuss with him how the last few months had been.  "Good", I say, all upbeat and positive.  "I feel better about my diabetes than I've felt in ages". I mean better emotionally of course, happier and more at peace with all that diabetes brings to my life.  He says he's glad about that, starts to check my feet, update some records on the computer while we talk. And then he let's me know my A1c number. It's higher than usual. Still good, but much higher than I like it to be. My poor doctor was almost reticent to tell me the A1c results because he knows how seriously I take my diabetes control and he more importantly, knows I'll be bummed by the jump in the number. He also knows, probably better than anyone, that this number is only a moment in time. I know it too. I know it in my head at least, but for some reason, this time, I also seem to take in stride emotionally. I was unruffled and composed. We're both a little surprised by my reaction actually. We discuss why my A1c might be the number it is, adjust my basal rates at 2AM and 5AM and out I go.

I make it all the way to my car, pull the keys out of my purse and am about ready to turn on the igniton when, bam, I start to cry suddenly and hard. The tears, the exasperation, the disappointment, the guilt, the frustration, all come streaming out at once. In my head I know it's just a number, just a moment in time. This A1c is one of thousands of numbers before it and one of thousands to come. But it's not my head at work here now. It's my heart. It's the deep grief and fatigue I carry around because of never, ever, ever being done with this dance with diabetes. Less about the actual number, the hot tears that came so suddenly were about working so hard to do it right and yet again, knowing that I hadn't.

Today is better. Today I woke up with a far better blood sugar, thanks to the adjustments we made on my night time doses. Isn't it funny, but today I feel better because of a number. A fleeting, moment in time number. It makes me smile at how silly that is and yet I understand it too. I'm working at letting these individual numbers mean less to my overall mood. I'm working at it and probably getting better at it too. I guess I'll never quite find the perfect balance between caring enough, and not so much that it ruins (or makes, for that matter) my day. But I'll keep trying.

(The video above is by one of my favorite artists feist who's song, 1-2-3-4 is a playful, fun celebration of numbers. Apropos of nothing, but somehow perfect for this post. Enjoy!)

diabetes alltop

I was recently contacted by the nice people from the amazing information aggregation site alltop, informing me that aiming for grace has been included on their diabetes page. Alltop is a terrific resource that pulls together links to all the "top" online websites, media sources, magazines, newspapers, blogs and forums around a particular subject and then features them in one, easily navigatable place. I've used the site many times before for other research I've been doing and have loved it's ease and comprehensive scope. It's very cool to be included on such a wonderful site, but more than that, I'm thrilled to be is such good company there. Many friends and fellow bloggers are also featured prominently on the site, along with lot's of other great resources about diabetes. alltop is most definitely worthy of bookmark as an excellent source for comprehensive information, the latest diabetes news, updates on your favorite blogs as well as possibly a few new connections you might not have known about before! Coolness abounds!

equilibrium or summer?

I haven't felt like writing much lately. I'm not exactly sure why. Is it because it's summer? Or because I'm so busy at work lately? Or just that I have nothing particularly interesting to say on the subject? That I feel tapped out on my story of diabetes? That I imagine that I've said everything that I have to say, at least for now?

Well it's probably some of the above, but in truth I think it's also another thing that's at play here. Something has changed inside of me regarding my diabetes. It's been happening over the last couple of years I've realized. Slowly, quietly, inside, I've become more comfortable, or at least more in accordance with having diabetes. From the inside out. It's happened because of writing this blog I think, because of having the chance to write and write and write, regardless of what I needed to say, regardless of when I needed to say it. As I've let all the sadness and frustration and anger and fatigue flow outside of me, what's replaced it is this a kind of acceptance, a space where there once was a churn of emotion and noise. Over time I've come to feel more whole as a person regardless of having diabetes, whole in spite of it and yes, in truth, whole because of it too.

This new sense of alignment, acceptance and integration has begun to change how my actual days now feel. There's a new feeling of deep normalcy about my life with diabetes, where there once was only profound resistance and discord. A feeling like this is how life is now, just is, normal and expected. Up and down, more impact and then less, normal life with diabetes. And the funny thing is that the world seems to be responding to that feeling coming from inside me. The normalcy I feel inside has translated to a new willingness to share my experience with others when it's natural, when it makes sense. People are asking more questions and seem really interested. They seem to genuinely care about what I have to say about diabetes, my experience, my feelings. And though this doesn't replace what I get on this blog, it certainly helps me to feel a lot less lonely and isolated in my everyday life. By practicing my voice here, I seem to have found it in my day to day life. By exploring what I really think about diabetes here, I have honed my point of view so I seem to present my thoughts to the world with a new clarity and self assurance. It's like there's a new equilibrium between my internal experience of diabetes and my outside expression of it. A new equilibrium and calm.

Which may be why I've felt less compelled to write lately. I don't know for sure. I'm sure there will be more to talk about soon enough. But for now the pace seems ok. It feels just right.

And of course, it also could just be the fact that it's summer and I actually really don't have anything very interesting to say. Ha!

distance and connection.

 

I'm taking off this week so I've had more time to think and write and even try something new. Yesterday's post talked about the pursuit of balance and in that spirit, I called a local yoga studio and booked an appointment for a private yoga instruction. It turned out that they could see me that afternoon, yesterday, no need to wait. Wow, snip, snap, here's a chance for some balance missy. Or at least some real movement towards it, towards trying to have more. Ask and the universe provides! Or something like that.

So I went and today I'm surprisingly stiff and sore but also very happy and more relaxed than I've been in ages. It was great and scary and promising. I had a great conversation with the instructor about my health history, my fears and concerns, my hopes. She was wonderful and as we talked, I had a revelation. A big one.

Over the years I've done a lot of thinking about diabetes. I've developed the mental side of the coping and healing process fairly well. Lately however, I've been feeling like that aspect of healing hasn't been enough. Over the years of living with diabetes and dealing with all the physical challenges it presents, I realize that I've come to create a distance from my body as a way to cope. When you don't have diabetes and you prick your finger until it bleeds, you notice. You might say ouch loudly. You might wince and shake the finger and suck it to feel better because, hell, it hurts. And then you move on. But not me. I've done that hundreds of times, thousands of times, and continue to do it many times a day. To cope, I don't think about it. I numb myself to the pain. I numb myself to the intrusion. I numb myself to the assault. Because I have to be able to keep doing it to stay healthy and ultimately, alive. And over the years, that need to numb myself to the physical pain and intrusion of diabetes (and all the other related stuff it brings like frozen shoulder and tangental surgeries), has created a distance between my heart and my body. A distance that makes perfect sense, but is at odds with the idea of balance and integration and unity as a whole person. 

Wow! That feels like a big piece of the puzzle. A very big one!

So there I was in this room with a stranger and we lay on the floor and breathed and moved slowly and in small ways. Laying the small of my back to the floor and then lifting it. Breathing in, breathing out. Simple and yet so very profound. Slow enough that my blood sugars didn't crash as is so often the case when I exercise. Slowly so that I could connect my breath to my back and abdomen and hips and legs and arms. And yes, I felt my pump site too and had to adjust the clip a couple of times to do the moves I was being asked to do. But it was ok, and not too scary because it all happened so slowly, flat on my back, with the floor there to support me the entire time. 

I feel good today. Because of the revelation and because of the effort I made to move to a new place. I feel excited about learning how to find the balance between healthy coping distance and healthy body connection. It's a delicate balance and not one I think I'll find over night. I'm not even sure I'll find it through yoga, but what I am sure about is that I will find a better one than I have right now, and that alone will be better.