4:30 AM. Up at what seems like an ungodly hour, usual for this sort of event. What's making it harder than normal is the congestion dripping from my nasal passages into my throat that kept me tossing and turning through the all-too-short sleep period that happens when your Other Half first gets home from his work shift at midnight. On top of that, I seem to have strained my left arm so that my thumb and pinky are half numb as is a stretch along the upper arm just above the elbow. My right hand is going numb as I type -- can I trust the "99" that my Freestyle Lite just read out? Considering that for some odd reason, the scale is reading four pounds more than it did just before I turned in for the night (and I've neither eaten or drunk a thing during that interval), my skepticism does not seem unfounded. (READ MORE)

I didn't sleep enough Wednesday night, so by Thursday afternoon my eyelids were heavy and my body was screaming out "Sleep! Sleep!" So a little after five in the afternoon, I decided to take a quick nap. A little power nap to recharge my batteries before diving into study and cleaning mode to prepare for the coming weekend.

My blood sugar was at 222 with only a little active insulin. I'd been high in the early afternoon and hadn't accurately bolused for a late lunch. I decided to leave it alone until after my nap though...giving my body an hour or two to use that remaining insulin and peak out.

I curled up in bed with my cat and a good book...falling asleep within a few minutes. It was a dreamless sleep...too deep to notice the world around me or the world inside me. A limitless fatigue overwhelming every inch of my body and soul. The effects of ineffective sleeping and the recent change in medications. (READ MORE)

My life is on a peg. It's hanging, waiting to be pulled off and move forward. But it's not there yet. I'm not there yet. I'm waiting, so impatient and so anxious for the future, so annoyed by the past...I'm waiting to move forward and be myself, to stop hanging on this peg.

The past three years have been an incredible roller coaster of a journey in regards to my health. I've made so many changes, tried so many things. And at what cost?

Right now, I'm extremely impatient with the future of my skin and the future of pain. I have some major decisions to make in the next couple of months...decisions that I wish I could have made months ago. I'm waiting on the endometriosis diagnosis/surgery. And I'm waiting to decide on Accutane/birth control pills...extremely impatient about this one.

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There's a lot on my mind lately. Some good, some bad, some neutral. Mostly, it's confusion and decisions. And mostly, it has to do with my health...of course.

I started a new prescription called Spironolactone (or Aldactone) on September 1 to help with the side effects of my PCOS. It's supposed to take about three months to truly see results, but I feel like I'm already seeing some effects. My skin, although still breaking out, is not nearly as bad as it was a few weeks ago. Granted, I'm using tea tree oil and Mederma religiously. So I can't really say if the "Spiro" is helping for sure, but it obviously isn't hurting in that area.

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Over the summer, I was working out quite a bit. I really wanted to set up habits, lose some weight, and just feel better about my body when the fall semester rolled around. And I did really well. I worked out three to four times a week, building my strength and endurance as I went along. Most importantly, I lost ten pounds and felt great about what my body was becoming again.

Towards the end of the summer, I started slacking off. I went on vacation, then came back for summer finals, then worked full time for two weeks...so I was running all over the place, but not getting any workouts in like normal. Thankfully, I was keeping busy and eating right well enough to not pack back on any pounds. But I didn't like the way it felt.

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This weekend I was working at a church retreat. I would not call it work since all I did was play drums and sing for 4 days. It was more like having my dream job for a short week.

As much as I love to play music and serve others, I continue to find that long days such as these are difficult for me to bounce back from. Is it diabetes or my age? I like to think I am a young 34 for the most part but not too long ago I could function on 4 hours sleep. No longer! I always schedule an extra day off even for vacations and the like because I know I am worthless the following day.

I would love to hear from anyone with diabetes about this. I wonder sometimes if needing a day to recuperate after a weekend trip is a common practice among my fellow d-lifers. (READ MORE)