The lowest A1C I ever had was 5.9. I've been striving to get back there for years. My highest: 9. I continue to strive not to get back there ever again. And yet I can't seem to get below 6.8 and when I do get there I don't stay there for long.

At my last endo appointment I asked K if they were going to do an A1C. I was sorely disappointed when she said that since it hadn't been three months since my last one that my insurance likely wouldn't cover it and that the out of pocket cost was about $50.

"I don't think it's worth it," she said.

Pthft. I did. But I'm cheap, so I didn't pay for it. And while I had made some changes in the eight weeks since I heard the wretched 7.5 I was actually pretty nervous that I had gone up again. So I was secretly somewhat happy that I didn't know the number that day; yet still a little disappointed that I wouldn't be able to know if I had made any progress in those eight weeks.

Since that appointment I've had Dexcom on my hip (except for this weekend) and I've been able to really watch my sugars. I feel like I'm doing well and I'm determined to do even better because I'm too young... This is so cliche but I don't want my kids to lose their mom when they're little. (And I mean lose in the overarching sense, not only the kick-the-bucket sense.) I'm 34 and still have my mom. My mom is 61 and still has her mom. I want that for my children.

This is my time to take control of my A1C. This is my time to watch like a hawk -- even if that means wearing Dex every day (and some days I really just want to yank the sensor out because I'm tired of having two devices attached to me and/or tired of information overload). This is my time to tell diabetes who's boss.