Well, today is the anniversary of my diagnosis. It's been 11 years and the memories of my diagnosis and the two or three weeks leading up to the diagnosis are crystal clear in my mind. I wrote my diagnosis story a year or so ago, so I won't bother you with that again. But it is sort of hard to believe that it's really been that long! Eleven years! I've lived about one-third of my life with diabetes. That's an even more sobering thought.
Most days aren't so bad. I test my sugar before each meal, bolus for the carbohydrates, and just go about my business. Some days it stops me in my tracks with a low... or a high. Occasionally I get pretty emotional about an unexplained high; or frustrated with a low that makes me suspend my activities for 15 minutes or more. The majority of the time I don't worry about long-term complications. All of my doctor appointments are always good, test results normal. Some days I even forget I have it. Other days, it's all I think about.
I've definitely learned how to be a healthier person. Not that I was really unhealthy before. I wasn't. And I shouldn't tell myself (or others for that matter) that I was. I exercised, I ate well (mostly) and I was a healthy weight. My weight isn't ideal right now but I'm working on it. Plugging along with the diet and exercise program. I'm managing my diabetes to the best of my knowledge. And hopefully, I'm a good example to some people. I think that I am. I am well. That is all.
Is someone going to make me a cake or something?