Care

I guess I'm on a roll with this thing called my "Blog". I have things to say I guess.

So, as some as you may know, and others not so much, I'm a type I diabetic. Diagnosed in my early twenties and have been fairly healthy ever since. It's a constant life decision to remain healthy.

Now I know many people run, or watch what they eat. Balance life's pleasures so to speak. But when it comes to managing diabetes in a real way, it takes a lot more. And frankly, most days I just do as best as I can, shove healthful food in my mouth and guess how many carbs I'm consuming, exercise in a real way at best once or twice a week, and live with the consequences.

Usually that means slowly gaining weight and facing my endocrinologist every three months with a slightly higher A1C than I would have hoped. She's an amazing doctor, lives with diabetes too, and is a great cheerleader. And I really do face up to my guilt when I see her. Why? Why do I feel guilty when it's my life I'm slowly sidelining?

I guess you could say I'm like a smoker with lung cancer who can't stop smoking. I love food. And I'm not too fond of regular intense exercise or limiting life's pleasures. But really, I love food, and usually it's even healthy food.

But I do love living. And I do love figuring out health or rather how to keep this body ticking (despite my lifelong challenge of a pancreas that doesn't want to keep it living). AND I want to continue to enjoy life's pleasures. Heck, I look forward to that quarterly shipment from Erath and consuming the tasty fruity newest Pinot Noir.

It all comes down to care.

We put our lives into the care of our nurses and doctors and don't think twice about it. When we're sick, we see our provider and follow their advice. Including buying whatever pill is hot on the market. But when you're a diabetic, a doc can't give me any advice I don't already know. I can choose to do or not do what my body needs. Period.

My endocrinologist is truly my cheerleader. She wants me to live a long full life and she views her job as rooting me on to succeed. She can't do it for me. There's no pill that will make me better. But I can live a healthy long life if I do it right.

I learned that lesson a long time ago. But for some reason I don't always follow it. Call it self-depreciating, or just plain denial. But I don't binge and I really don't put myself in immediate harms way. Compared to most people living with diabetes, and by the numbers, I'm a success. But I do know I can do better to care for myself.

Lately I've realized, again, that I need to make changes to really care for myself. Make wellness my life. And to care doesn't mean to deprive. Moderation. Isn't that what mom always said? Moderation is the key?

So moderation is my life story these days. And it's paying off. I dropped 1.4 points off my A1C in the last few months (from 8.1 to 6.7...optimal health is below 7 and as close to 6 as we can get). And a few lbs. have dropped off the scale. Every little bit helps. One day or in my case one carb at a time.

And yesterday I was the recipient of some great cheer leading. My doc was proud, I could tell. That doesn't feel bad at all.

"Care for yourself." I think that's my new mantra. And I think that's one we all can afford to repeat more often.