A little over two weeks ago I had an endocrinologist appointment at Vanderbilt. Overall I was impressed that my A1c was only up 0.1 points during a three month period that included two weeks of steroids due to a poison ivy outbreak (holy crap, high blood sugars after 0 carbs), a wedding, a honeymoon, and a second reception in Phoenix. While I am still working on bringing my A1c down, I wasn't too upset about this slight setback.
What I was upset about was my weight. Wha, wha, wha :-(
I was able to hold off the weight right up until the day of the wedding (the corset back was up almost as tight as it could go!). But after that day, all bets were off. Chris and I enjoyed our "all-inclusive" benefits on the honeymoon with free food and free alcoholic beverages! And our Arizona reception? Let's just say several meals eating out and divine cupcakes sort of helped the pounds keep stacking up.
So, my endocrinologist was sort of surprised that I had gained 10 pounds since my last appointment. I was completely embarrassed and ashamed. I knew I had gained a few, but not 10!
And here I am, two weeks later, still up about 7 pounds. It sucks, my pants are tight, and my motivation is less than stellar. I just can't believe how hard it is to lose or just maintain a certain weight, and then how easy it is to throw all that hard work out the window. So now I only have three months (well, less, actually) to get back at least to my wedding weight, and preferably below. I have got to get this body and my increased insulin requirements under control.
Oh yes, I guess I forgot to mention how I almost cried when my endo suggested increasing my lunch-time carb-to-insulin ratio. "You don't look happy with that suggestion," she so eloquently observed.
"It's just that I hate having to take more insulin, I worked so hard to significantly decrease my requirements, and I felt so good then. I hate to go back, but I know I need it," I replied, trying not to physically release the building tears.
Diabetes really is such a roller-coaster. It is exhausting and absolutely frustrating. Scott's post recently really hit home as I work through these Diabetes, body-image, and mental issues.
He writes in response to his friend's dad's (with Type 1 Diabetes) recent passing, "When my time comes, I want you to celebrate that I don’t have to do this exhausting diabetes thing anymore. I will finally have some peace from the constant attack that diabetes forces into every waking (and sleeping) second of my life. I will finally be able to rest, without worry about my blood sugar, food, insulin, exercise, guilt of imperfect control, or when diabetes will sneak a punch through my defenses.
I live tired. No. I live exhausted. I think it may be fair to say that all of us with type 1 diabetes live exhausted. There are but two ways to relieve that exhaustion."
I guess that may sound morbid, but it's the truth. And I'm sorry if those words don't make you happy inside, but if its any consolation, Diabetes doesn't really make me happy inside either. It's crazy how seven little pounds can increase your insulin requirements, and totally decrease a positive attitude.
Here goes nothing, hope I can lose these pounds quick, and get back to feeling good inside and out, on the blood sugar meter, and the scale.