I made a note on my calendar to call Dr. S today about the bloodwork I had done last week. His nurse told me it may be a week or two before I got results and that I could call any time to see if they were in.

I got impatient (go figure!) and called yesterday. After going through automated phone Hell, I got to the voice mail of the nurse. Her mailbox said feel free to leave a message, but be aware that it may take me 72 hours to get back to you. *sigh*

So I left a message fully expecting NOT to hear from her any time soon. I considered calling again today, but even though I'm impatient I'm not a pest. Well, maybe sometimes.

  (READ MORE)

I thought carefully about what I would wear today, and reconsidered several times. I applied my makeup with an eye toward the wow factor. I wasn't trying to show off, I just feel incredibly good today and wanted to reflect that outwardly.

Truthfully, I couldn't wait to get to my appointment with my endo. Truthfully, I've been waiting for this for some time. Truthfully, if I were still on Byetta I think I would have dreaded this day. Truthfully, with a solid month or so of excellent blood sugars thanks to Novolog and a fairly decent walking schedule, I was proud to report to my endo about how well I believe I'm doing. (READ MORE)

I am going to begin this, my very first blog post here, with a confession.

I have fallen off the wagon.

Not the booze wagon; even before my type 2 diagnosis in February 2006, my drinky drink days were mostly behind me. (College was fun, from what I remember.) No, the wagon I have fallen off of is the healthy living, weight-losing, diabetic-under-control wagon.

When I was diagnosed last year, my a1c was hovering above 10, and I was about 35 pounds overweight. I was also terrified. I was 38 years old, with that big number (let's call it "thirty-ten") lurking in the near future. My own father died at the age of fifty-one after about twenty years of poorly managed diabetes. I was determined that this wouldn't be me. (READ MORE)

Last October, I totally ditched an appointment with my endo.

Why? I didn’t want to face the music. I didn’t want to hear about what I have not done right and I just did not want to see my A1C.

My last A1C was from last July and it was an 8.9%. Not good at all. I was upset about it but in the end I knew it made sense. I was not on top of things.

And this year was no different. I just kept gaining weight, snacking, and my BG was high a lot of the time. So when the time for the appointment came I wrote a post here about wanting to ditch and how I needed to face the music.

I still ditched it. (READ MORE)

To sum up Charlie's recent doctor's visit in which we greatly anticipated an improved A1c result, the words of two great American female poets come to mind.

"First, when there's nothing but a slow glowing dream
That your fear seems to hide deep inside your mind
All alone I have cried silent tears full of pride
In a world made of steel, made of stone

What a feeling, bein's believin'
I can't have it all, now I'm dancin' for my life
Take your passion, and make it happen
Pictures come alive, you can dance right through your life" - Irene Cara

And of course ,.

"Whoa, maybe he's no romeo
But he's my lovin one-man show
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Let's hear it for the boy" - Deniece Williams

Incidentally, I honestly always thought the Irene Cara lyric was "take your pants off and make it happen" rather than "take your passion and make it happen." Very risqué and quite unlikely even for the mid-80s, but that's just how I heard it. (READ MORE)

::knock knock::

"Hey! You said you had some wellness numbers you wanted to show me," I said to A on Monday around lunchtime.

"Oh you're so good to remember!" she said.

A had stopped me in the parking lot Thursday afternoon after she returned from our annual conference. She had been to the wellness booth where they drew an unbelievable amount of blood to test cholesterol, glucose, A1C, etc. She couldn't remember exactly the name of the test she wanted to talk to me about but knew it was something like hemoglobin.

"I'll bring the paperwork on Monday and we can discuss it," she said as she got into her car.

I had forgotten, actually, that we were going to talk about it. I'm not sure what triggered the memory; maybe it was because I was walking across the parking lot.

  (READ MORE)