Tied.  In a way that I hate to feel tied.

Lashed, tight to the feeling that I must succeed.  Bound to the knowledge that if I don't, the consequences could be (will be) disastrous. 

I am free spirited.  I throw myself into things with unbridled verve.  It's something I like about myself.  It's something that has often served me well.   It has challenges, of course, like the times I fell while rollerskating down the bulkhead.  But it is largely an advantage.  

Having an A1C test, waiting on the result, receiving it - all of these steps are agonizing, and they drain every ounce of bohemian lightheartedness.  It's frustrating. 

As much as I tell others, and fully believe, that "it's just another piece of data" and that "it's information we can put to use,"  I often find my eyes welling and a lump in my throat when I see a number that isn't quite what I wanted or expected.   I often find my heart swelling with pride when I see a number that the doctor likes.  

Where in other areas of my life, I give myself permission to not care and I throw caution to the wind, the A1C and its implications force me to focus. That challenges my very nature.   It's not that I let diabetes get in my way physically, it's that it presents, in the form of its unpredictable ways and its roller-coaster numbers and its threats of a difficult future, gigantic stumbling blocks to being carefree.

I wish it were different.  But the A1C result makes me feel tied.  Too serious, too worried, too willing to conform - too inclined to do anything to have it come out right.   

It isn't just a number, it's chains.