My D-Brother

Any time we PWD get the chance to make in-real-life connections with those we know and love from online, there is cause for celebration.

So I was giddy when I found out that my friend Bradford was coming to Dallas for the White Rock Marathon weekend events on behalf of Team Type 1.

Bradford is like my online brother. We're both admins on TuDiabetes. We use the same insulin, the same pump, and we used the same CGMS until we both switched to a different CGMS. We even both got the new iPhone together (sadly, insurance doesn't consider that durable medical equipment). When one of us comments in a discussion thread on TuDiabetes, the other usually comes in with a vote of support to back up whatever suggestion or theory the first has made.

The similarities pretty much stop there though.

I'm in awe of the way he manages his health so that he can participate in the athletic events he does. The man just ran a 5K this weekend in under 20 minutes.

To put that in perspective, at the rate I'm waddling lately, it takes me 20 minutes to walk up and down my street.

I have always had trouble motivating myself to be more active. I've used diabetes (low blood sugars, in particular) as an excuse as to why I am not more athletic. But when I hear Bradford talking about half Ironmans and bicycling, I realize that I let my fears about blood sugar management get in the way of having a healthier active lifestyle for far too long and that plenty of people are out there doing impressive physical feats. It can be done. And I should figure out what works for me. That's part of Team Type 1's message.

I stumbled all over myself, like a hyper teenaged sister, to actually get to sit down to dinner and chat it up with Bradford and his teammate, but I'm so glad to have made the connection. To have one more online relationship with more than just a profile image and hundreds of typed words to its credit.

So thanks for meeting up with my family and me, Bradford. We loved getting to meet you. And, though I'm sure it was never your intention, we were all inspired by you and your teammate to try to be more active.

Especially the 22-month-old. I mean, she has been running around the house full speed ever since. I'm just sure it's your fault.

Sober

There's a sobering Part Two to my greeting card post from last week. Jess's post yesterday drove it home for me. She was talking about recently having a really positive A1c result and how it was juxtaposed in the same week against Kerri's crushing negative results.

I was going to leave a comment on your blog, Jess, because I thought the post was amazing, but I think I have a lot more to say. It really got me thinking about something I have kept to myself for a long time.

To treat your A1c or your blood sugar as data to be acted on - rather than a mark of failure or a judgment of your efforts or your worth - is only half the battle.

We have to learn to give the "good" numbers less power, too.

That means no congratulatory end zone dance when yout A1c result is in range. It means treating a 100 like it's just data, too. Because to really believe the highs are just numbers to act on, don't we need to treat in-range values in much the same way?

I've been doing that for the last year or so, I think. Or I've tried. I still join in congratulating others for a "good" A1c, and I post my own on Twitter, but it's not for the back pats and the high fives. It's just part of owning up to the fact that I know where it is. (Or sometimes it's to get people off my back.)

Because the second that I throw a party for my 6.0%, the bigger the pity party when it slips back over 7.0%.

We don't need that guilt. Pressure. Depression.

So it's 6.0%. Okay. That means my average is where it's supposed to be for pregnancy.

But it's not a blank check to slack off. It's not an indicator of how hard I'm trying - because you and I both know that sometimes we work our asses off and it comes back higher than we believe it should.

And it doesn't even mean I'm nailing it. My standard deviation is too high and I've got swings from 40-240 mg/dL to average out to that lovely 130 mg/dL.

I try not to treat my 6.0% as anything other than data. So when I inevitably cross back into the "life is hard and I'm trying but it came back over 7.0%," maybe I'll beat myself up less.

I often remind PWD (and parents of CWD) that I didn't see my first A1c under 8% until I was 26 years old. I remember getting that 7.3% in the mail from my doctor. I hung it on our refrigerator. I called people who didn't have a clue what I was talking about and I cried. Tears of joy and relief.

I had had diabetes over 16 years by the time I saw that 7.3%. I'd spent my teen years over 10.0% (usually over 12%), topping out once at 15.4% at the age of 13. (That means my average blood sugar had been around 500 mg/dL.) It took me two more years to cross into the 6's. Two. More. Years.

That's when we started trying to conceive Sweetie.

And I've stayed there, at or below 7.0%, for the last four years now. But my circumstances are not any of yours, DOC friends. I've been trying to conceive, pregnant, nursing, and pregnant again for the last four years. I've kept my A1c so "good" during that time because I've had to. It's required a degree of intense monitoring and a singular focus on a very important goal.

But I'm no fool.

I know it will someday climb up into uncomfortable areas again, despite my efforts. Because this f-ing disease is like that.

So let's look at that 93 or that 104 on the meter screen, take our appropriate action, and zip up the case.

If the 215s and 347s are just pieces of information, then that 104 isn't worth any confetti.

Zip up the case and walk away.