I went to my endo’s office on Friday and eagerly asked the nurse for my blood work so I could see my A1c. I’ve been working really hard in the past few months to tighten up control. My last one came back at 6.8%, which is ok, but I have a personal goal and comfort zone of keeping it under 6.5%. I’ve spent the past few months eating better, correcting more highs and lows, and keeping my exercising super-regular. I was more than ready to see the payoff on Friday, but when the nurse handed me my chart and I saw 6.6% all I could think was. “That’s it? That’s freaking it?! All that work for a measly .2% drop. What. The. Eff.
That’s the thing about diabetes. You try and try and try, and it’s every single day. Forever. There’s no blue ribbons handed out, there’s no pat on the back every time you test in range, there’s no motivational coach next to you saying “you are amazing for putting up with this insane, ridiculous, non-sensical disease.” That .2% drop felt like diabetes was smirking at while chuckling “nice try loser.” Even though it felt like I was putting in a tremendous effort, it felt like it didn’t show up in the numbers. Sure, that A1c could be a more “flat line” of numbers – e.g. it wasn’t lower because I was averaging out a bunch of highs and lows, but it still just felt so “meh.”
Results like that are so difficult because the last thing you want to do after diabetes slaps you in the face is try again. And that’s why I’ve always said that truly being successful with diabetes isn’t about perfect numbers, the right A1c, or always making the best decision. It’s about having the strength to get up the next day and try again. Every day. Forever. That’s no small feat by any means.
And yes, sometimes I type these posts because I’m the one that needs a reminder of that.