I go through spurts of paying rapt attention to diabetes-related things. I'll monitor and log numbers like my next heartbeat depends on it. I'll count those blasted carbs and bolus accordingly. My days start to lose their life focus and my hours begin to revolve around diabetes. For the first part of these obsessive periods, my numbers are tightly controlled. But after too many days of laser-focus, the burnout sets in and things go haywire. Over-correcting highs (i.e. Testing at 10 am to see 240, correcting with two units of Humalog, testing again at 11 am and seeing 220, correcting again ... you see where this is going, right? Straight to a blood sugar of 52 mg/dl at high noon.), chasing lows, feeling vlah.
Then there are the spurts when I do not give what even remotely resembles a care. It's not like I'm blowing off diabetes care, but I just do it without overthinking it and then move the heck on. This is the phase I'm in these days, and it's been going on for about two weeks. I'm wearing my pump, checking my blood sugar, eating 85% healthy (too much coffee, indulging in ice cream, and upping the carb intake a little bit more than usual), and exercising very regularly. But I'm not going crazy trying to control all the variables.
Why, oh why, Diabetes, do you behave yourself only after I've gone through all your emotional hoops? Why don't you comply when I'm diligently logging and checking out all the hardware issues? When I'm pouring my heart into your management? Why is it that you are completely in line when I'm climbing up the side of a mountain, not giving a crap what my blood sugar is? Why is it that once I stop fussing, you start behaving? I'm not going out of my way to attend its needs, and now is when it complies.
Diabetes is like a bad little toddler. It's grumpy and needy and pinches my arm when I walk by. It's moody and constantly needs to be changed. It wants to play in the dirt but it doesn't want to wipe its feet before it comes inside, and it leaves crumbs from its snacks all over the damn place. It whines, cries, and hollers in my ears but when I give it what it wants, it throws it against the wall with a smack.
I will be a good mother to my actual children, but I'm going to toss Diabetes back into the playpen for a few more hours and let it scream its head off.