"So what is this one, the 236. Did you correct this? Is this after eating? I can't really tell."
And I peered at the logbook, chock full of results. Months of results, all neatly organized by date and time. Only without food or insulin doses written in, so it was less like a diabetes assessment tool and more like the machine that spins the bingo balls.
"Ah, I have no idea. Damn, I have no clue, actually. I'll assume I corrected it."
There's not too much difference between writing in all the results the night before an endo appointment and printing out the numbers.
With last week's endocrinologist appointment being a little less than thrilling, I'm on a new game plan to get ready for my June follow-up. Dr. Brown has asked me to keep a detailed logbook of my numbers. Not necessarily a food journal, but more a list of blood sugars, insulin doses, and carb intake.
"You don't need to list the kind of fruit you ate, but if you just put that it was 20 grams of carbs, that would be what we need. That way we can tell what's causing what."
So I bought a very small moleskine book to record everything. (I love these books. I have one in my purse at all times and I use it to jot down everything from blog post ideas to words I want to remember to look up to reminders that if I don't pay my cell phone bill, they will come for me.) It's a wee little thing and it fits in my meter case. Surely it will be covered in blood and have test strips stuck to it by the end of June, but so far it's been one full day and I'm still on the wagon. (And that, my Faithful Readers, is saying a TON.)
I get burnt out with the details of diabetes. The whole logging thing throws me off my creative stream of consciousness. "You mean I have to write this stuff down and analyze trends?" I'll wear the pump and the Dexcom and do my due diligence, but when it comes to the diabetes nitty-gritty, I often tumble off the wagon.
It's a lack of patience. Maybe a lack of desire to make a blood sugar testing moment last more than the five second countdown. I don't like when I feel so much of my time slipping into the realm of diabetes management. And I make plenty of excuses not to focus: "I'm heading to Tucson." "I'm going home to RI for the weekend." "I'm having dinner with NBF." "I'm too busy at work." "I'm ... no."
But I'm a woman on a mission. If I don't ever buckle down and make my A1C my top priority, it may always hover around seven plus percent. Even if it's a pain in the ass, and even if it's "hard," I owe it to myself and my future family to give it my best.
Poor Chris. He thought Twitter ate up time? Wait until he sees how often I have to logbook.