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!)

Comments

[Minnesota Nice]

Oh man, Birdie - been there, done that. Usually if I don't start sobbing in the doc's office, I do by the time I'm outside the clnic door.
There is such a big emotional investment in the numbers. Now if this A1C was higher than usual, why not just look back at the "usual" ones and be satisfied?
Now that I think about this, you probably needed to get rid of some junk by shedding a few tears. Each day is new, and I know you will forge ahead.
My best to you, Birdie.

[John]

This is my first time reading your blog and I'm blown away by how well you have captured the emotions of diabetes. My son is a type 1. He's just turned sixteen and I've watched how diabetes just complicates all the emotions of that roller-coaster transition from child to adult.

And by the way, I love Feist. What a great song.

[Scott K. Johnson]

I too get very emotional in the car after my appointments. What's with that? Maybe I feel "safe" once I'm in my little pocket of privacy, and let my emotional guard down? Then it all comes pouring out.

What touched me with this post was how it is your heart at work. I've posted so many times about disappointment with my A1C's, and how it has upset me. The response is usually pretty much the same, though very understanding (because we've all been there). We all say "it's just a number", and yes, in my head I know that, and agree. But my heart hurts for all the work I've done and not seen some positive progress.

In a way I am comforted to know that I'm not alone in that feeling. I know that I'm not, but it is comforting to see you acknowledge it with me. I am sorry that it hurts so, but thankful that you are willing to share it with us all. Thank you.

[Bob Hawkinson]

The only number that really matters is Numero Uno
Keep charging ahead......Peace

Cheers....Bob