March

March.

Time Marches On.  March brings a few things.  It adds another year to both myself and Grete as we have birthdays.  And it brings a round of diabetic checkups (my yearly assessment).  As always, I’m expecting the worst from the blood glucose numbers, and assume I’ll be blind and missing limbs in a few months due to bad sugar control.  We’ll see what the numbers return.

I’m trying to remain upbeat about being almost 40, but with the all crap going on at work, that’s never easy.

It’s March

My birthday is in March, and the NHS gets me the same thing every year – a set of annual diabetic check-ups.  I get some retinopathy checks (they dilate your pupils and then photograph the back of your eyes).  I can’t see very well for a while after that because everything is too bright.  I get a visit to the nurse who checks my feet to make sure I can still feel them and that I didn’t cut a toe off without noticing, she tends to also nag me about not losing weight, having high blood pressure, and then asks me if I’m depressed.  Before all that I also have to have a blood test and provide a urine sample, did those today.  Bled pretty easily, was awkward last time but the nurse suggested it was because I hadn’t had a good breakfast.  This time I made sure I ate early and I sprayed the inside of the two tubes quite happily when she stuck the needle in.

Then I get to wait and see how my average blood sugar was over the last three months.  I’m not expecting a good result this time – I’ve had bouts of being ill on and off which messes with my control and emotionally I’ve not been strong enough to exert enough control either, so I suspect I’ll be having a talk with the doctor.  I’ll resist attempts to change my meds – I can control my sugar when I’m strong and I just need another kick up the arse.  I guess his concern will be that after too many kicks I’ll be blind and missing a foot.