I’m in such a freaking crankypants-y mood today. There’s a lot of stuff swirling around in my brain. I spent the morning doing chores around the house, and it feels like some hormones are elbowing their way to the front of the Line of Annoyance. Once there, the ever-gaining hormones keep poking me in the head. Constantly. Like a bratty little brother. I’d like to scream at them to knock it the hell off, but then I’d scare those around me in real life, so I won’t. Although those around me are probably afraid anyway, because of the way I’ve been acting today.
On this, the last day of the 3-day weekend, I vacuumed and washed the mostly hardwood and little bit of tile floors throughout the ground floor of our townhome. It’s not like it’s a huge space, so I really shouldn’t even think twice about it. And I’m glad when it’s done, for the few brief shining moments before dogs or daughter or adults get stuff on it and start the cycle again. I should be glad to be able to get into the work, get it done, and enjoy the results.
Except that lately, I’m just overwhelmed with the maintaining of everything, both diabetes-related and not. The second the last bit of laundry is done, there are more clothes in the baskets to clean. The clean dishes get put away, and there are more on the counter that need to be washed. The last square foot of floor is vacuumed and scrubbed, and the dogs come scattering through with hair and dirt and dogginess. It’s like a neverending run on the treadmill–lots of effort (sometimes), but never getting anywhere.
Add the diabetes-related chores to the list of household chores that never end, and I am just not entirely sure where there is anything different from one day to the next. Blood test, bolus for carbs or correction, test, test, test, respond, treat low, test, test, test, exercise, deal with whatever happens due to exercise, change pump site/CGM sensor site, test, test, tell CGM to shut up, again, test, test, freak out about potential impending complications, freak out about new weird physical changes and whether or not they’re diabetes-related, test, test, stress…and so it goes. I’ve blogged about it before, too, so even that’s redundant. Nothing new.
It’s a nevernending and never-certain chore, this diabetes maintenance. The only other option I see is non-maintenance, otherwise known as ignoring D intentionally or being in denial of it unintentionally, and neither of those seem like good options to me, for me. When I don’t test for several hours, and when I go on a rant of eating tons of junk food and sweets just because I feel like it and no one can stop me damn it, it doesn’t feel good. I have to fight for hours after to get my BG back down to where I feel okay. So that really doesn’t do much to help me feel less burdened from taking care of D. It’s a pain in the ass.
Truth be told, there’s not much to be happy and proud about when I’m doing all the d-maintenance stuff RIGHT, either. A lower HbA1c is great and nice and fun to look at when the test results are ready, but then what? There’s no gold star, no award, and no fun summer vacay as a result. Just get back on the treadmill and keep running, thanks. Don’t stop. Don’t slow down. Just keep going.
I think I have burned out. (I can’t stand the look of the word “burnt,” it just seems wrong.I just can’t use it. Besides, if I’m describing a negative result of having burned the candle at both ends, let’s say, then I want to use the word “burned”–it’s more active.) Not entirely sure how to fix it, how to get back into the swing of things. In a few days, hopefully things won’t seem so dire and forlorn when the hormones have lessened to some extent.
More maintenance chores: I have the annual Dr. D-eyeball appointment in a couple of weeks. Of course I’m freaking about it. And oh, look at that–I scheduled it for the day before my 32nd diaversary. Hmmm. I also requested the forms to see if I can get my medical records from 1980, when I was diagnosed with type 1 and admitted to the hospital for 13 days after coming into the ER, and from another time around 1984, when I was in the hospital for a few days with DKA after secretly refusing to give my shots for about a month or so. I’m trying to figure out if I need to go in, and if so, to what kind of dr., regarding my ongoing stint with super dry eyes and dry mouth that are driving me nuts. My mom was diagnosed with Sjogren’s syndrome a few years ago, and I’m freaked that I might have it too. Autoimmune and all. The more the merrier. Or, the seasonal allergies could just be after me worse than ever before this year…who knows.
I’m just super tired of maintaining. But there’s not much else to do…just keep going. Wish I could hire a trainer to carry the worry and do all the maintenance business for me, just for a couple of days. I’d like to try something new, and not have to keep doing it for years and years and years. Just be able to put it down when I was tired of it. Just for a little while. That would be awesome.
At least the floor is clean. Or was for a few hours, before the dogs came back inside.