Dear Diabetes,

Lately you've given me some troubles. Pesky lows in the thirties. Drastic drops during the night despite adequate carb consumption. Bruises from my insulin injections. Packing on pounds between the lows and fear of lows. The list really goes on and on...like usual.

But lately, I've also been ignoring you. I'm in the throes of my senior year of college. With tests every week, research for papers, and all sorts of miscellaneous assignments. Not to mention that my future is looming large in my mind, with only about seven months left until I'm thrown fully into adulthood. So I've ignored you.

I've kept my testing to a minimum five times per day. Stopped freaking out at the sight of crazy numbers. Let my logbook get behind. Avoided eating exactly right or counting every last carb. I've just let you go by the wayside, drifting around the sea like a speck of sand. (READ MORE)

The past week has been intense, to say the least. I had three midterms, two of which I didn't feel prepared for up until about 5 minutes before the exam. And one of those was canceled so now I'm looking at three this week despite doing all the work for three last week. On top of that, I have homework assignments and meetings and bills due.

But the topper is that my leg infection from last week is no where near better. It actually got much worse Wednesday through Thursday. It finally started healing a little on Friday, but turned into an incredibly painful sore over the weekend. So now, I'm heading to the doctor bright and early in the morning hoping that isn't as serious as it feels.

Between the busy schedule and the infection, my blood sugars have been way too high. I even raised my Lantus today to combat the elevated glucose. Unfortunately, the crash that I was expecting didn't come in the form of blood sugars. (READ MORE)

My averages had been looking much better the last few weeks with the mix of keeping a stable schedule and eating a little better. I was having my usual bouts of lows (in the 50's) with the lower averages, but I was also working to correct those issues. So this week, I'm sad to report that my averages have soared back up with the onset of school.

The first week of school (or any time I get sincerely busy), I tend to let my diabetes slip. I check my blood sugar less often and at the most unusual times. I don't stay on top of my insulin, as in I let my Lantus doses fall outside the typical 12 hour range or delay my boluses. On top of all that, I tend to eat off schedule (since I'm still adjusting to the change in daily routine) and never decent meals.

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I've blogged before about being an advocate for taking diabetes "breaks." Sometimes this disease can get overwhelming, annoying, and just plain upsetting. So every once and awhile, I take a little break. I don't test as often. I try not to get upset when I run high. And I stop worrying about the food I'm putting in my mouth. I even stop worrying about getting my usual exercise in.

The last week has been exactly that. And my averages are definitely running high. So I figure today is a good day to start getting myself prepared for getting back on track. One last day of diabetes irresponsibility. It's just one of those days where I'm tired of sitting around and doing nothing. I'm ready to start fresh.

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Onafly on Flickr

I've swallowed my pride and decided to apply for disability services here at school. They can offer me a few resources that I do not have access to otherwise. Most importantly, they give me the ability to register early for class and to notify my professor's that there is a legitimate health issue that I deal with.

The past two semesters, I've considered doing it, but I've also thought it was too embarrassing. But finally, things have gotten to the point where I'm realizing that it's not embarrassing, it's reality. So I've taken the initial steps to go through with it.

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margolove

The day that I moved out of my mom's house, my mom cried the entire way home from my new apartment. Not only was she losing her daily companion, but she was scared. All moms get scared when their kids move out, of course. But moms of diabetics have a completely different perspective.

She had seen me have two seizures before. She'd been there when I blacked out in the grocery store when moments earlier I was feeling fine. She'd driven me to the emergency room when I was sick, in fear of DKA. She'd watched me grow up with this disease, in the highs and lows, quite literally.

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