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Swings and Roundabouts…

Wow, my control has been shit for the last week.

An odd day here and there doesn’t phase me, but I feel like I’ve been ploughing the insulin in for the past seven days or so, not really with any success. I’m not afraid to say it’s started getting to me a little bit… one coz I was doing so well before, and two because I’m TRYING.

It seems that my body isn’t reacting to insulin very well, I think mostly because I had to quit the gym to save money. I vowed to work out at home to maintain things as much as possible, but a glaring problem there is that I’ve barely been at home. I’ve been the hobo of Yorkshire, living out of a bag at various locations for various reasons. The result, apart from a lack of clean pants, is a lack of good control.

I’ve always said in my short blogging life that planning plays a massive part in beating the glucose meter. But when you’re not at home to make your carb-friendly dinners and lunches, or to get the right amount of sleep, or to work out in the lounge, things start going a little bit awry.

I’m back home tonight, hence the appearance of a blog post. I’m fully aware that’s another thing I’ve been bad at. The thing is, I woke up last week with the B word. That’s right. Boyfriend. I’m officially someone’s girlfriend. Eeeeek.

Now he is far from to blame for my lack of good blood sugar readings, although he’s definitely to blame for a distinct lack of blog posts. I knew I was on to a good’un when he offered to cook me lasagne last week, but first checked whether it would be “too pasta-ry”. Any diabetic would agree that he is a winner on that basis alone.

It baffles me how I used to get HbA1cs of 6 (or thereabouts) when I was younger. I didn’t even try, not in the way that I do now. Granted, I was lacking a car, a job and money to buy my own food in too-large quantities. I walked a lot, played sports and didn’t drink alcohol, mostly because it’s not something you tend to do when you’re 11. But i ate carbs. Serious carbs. And chocolate, and ice cream, and sweets. How did it all work? I’ve no idea. But I wouldn’t mind rewinding to my 11-year-old self to warn her how hard it was all going to get.

I know this down-in-the-dumps feeling is a temporary blip, and I think I know what the answers are to put things right. It’s possibly karma because I’m feeling so smug about the fact that I have a boyfriend who asked me whether he should buy diabetic chocolate instead of regular chocolate (no, is always the answer. Nasty, nasty stuff).

I think I need to get my head back in the diabetes books, and also my arse out of my office chair. And I need to take some time to chill out on the whirlwind that appears to be my life at the moment. I’m definitely not complaining on that front; work is exciting (if mental), there is the Boy (did I maybe mention him already?) and many other exciting plans being made. But it is all having an effect on my diabetes, and at the end of the day that has to come first. So back to Bernstein we go.


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