happysnappr

I really don't like going to the doctor. The endocrinologist to be specific. Every time I go, I just seem to leave disappointed. Sometimes it's less disappointment than others. Sometimes I'm just so angry at myself and at this disease. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I get mad at the doctor (because OF COURSE, it's HIS fault I'm diabetic!). But mostly, the doctor just makes me feel alone in what I feel.

Today I had an endo appointment (if you didn't already guess). My last A1c was 6.9, my lowest ever. I was absolutely thrilled at that number, yet the perfectionist in me still wanted lower. And I honestly tried for lower (less in the last month or so though). But life got in the way.

The appointment went fine, I suppose. My A1c was 7.3, which totally makes me want to throw a brick through the big bad diabetes window. I realize it's a small change in the number and it's still a decent number. But it makes me so mad because I try and I have been trying to get lower A1c's. Because I want to be HEALTHY. I want to LIVE. I want to be prepared for my FUTURE.

Yet it seems that when I'm doing my best, life can't seem to give me any credit. I say this because I know that the logic behind the rising 7.3 is because of the ovarian cyst I had. Throw in the stress from college finals, some new medications, and "life events." That recipe creates one lovely 7.3.

It isn't fair that no matter how hard I try or how much time and effort goes into diabetes on my part, diabetes wins (or tries to). It isn't fair that because of another uncontrollable health issue, my diabetes has to suffer. It isn't fair that I can't be a normal college student, dealing with normal college things. Instead, I have to be a college student dealing with normal things plus a chronic illness plus other health problems.

But this isn't a pity party. This isn't me complaining (okay, it kind of is!). But more so, this is me venting. I have to let someone know (someone that knows these feelings) that I worked my butt off to get lower than a 6.9 yet I turned up with a lousy 7.3.

I don't even want to remember that number. I don't even want to remember it went up again. I just want to work even harder in the next three months to get it all straightened out (and cross my fingers for no more cysts!) and get a 6.8 on my next A1c.

At least I did find out a lot of helpful medical school stuff from the endo today. There's a bright side to every rainy day.