Tomorrow is my two year diaversary.

It’s the lingo among type 1, insulin dependent diabetics to announce the anniversary of day they were diagnosed with diabetes.

I thought I was going handle this impended anniversary better.

Instead, I’m weepy, and made a pan of rocky road brownies to drown my sorrows.

(Side bar: I can eat what I want. It’s what my insulin pump is for. You have a functioning pancreas, I have an Omnipod.)

It was eight years ago this month that I was diagnosed as a type 2 diabetic. I cried as soon as I saw the first lab results. I knew what was coming. I now know it was an incorrect diagnosis, but at the time, it spurred me into action.

I changed everything. I stopped eating 80% carbs, and ate mindfully. I stopped drinking sodas. I started exercising. – walking a 5k a day. I lost 30lbs.

This was a long process of many small changes, that eventually led to my bringing my hemoglobin A1c down to 5.3. Normal!

I eventually started doing races, and ran 21 half marathons from diagnosis to present day. I really thought I had the tiger by the tail. I was managing my disease!

Little did I know I was in the honeymoon phase. What I really had was LADA – latent autoimmune diabetes of adulthood. My health changes bought me time. Eventually, though, my pancreas finally pooped out. In 2017, my doctor put me on insulin, and I asked to see an endocrinologist.

I’ve since found out that 50% of type 1, insulin dependent diabetics are diagnosed as adults. The term “juvenile diabetes” is not accurate. Only 5% of diabetics are insulin dependent. Lucky me. Sarcasm.

August 16, 2017 I got the results I knew were probable, but now were right in front of me on paper, in black and white. Undeniable. My body has attacked my pancreas, and I would need insulin the rest of my life.

The last two years have been more challenging. Administration of insulin is sometimes more art, luck, or magic than a accurate formula. Given the thousands of factors at play, from illness, stress, hormones, exercise, time of day, or phases of the moon, no two meals are alike.

Some days I do everything wrong, and my blood sugars are great. Other days I do everything I know to do right, and I’m up all night fighting frightening low blood sugars.

It’s frustrating to have to do public math with every single thing I eat. To have to calculate every action based on insulin on board.

My days of half marathon running are on hold. I’m working my way back up to it, trying to stay in safe blood sugar range. I’ve managed to get up to an 8k, and I am pressing forward with my training.

That’s me, whining about a diagnosis I didn’t want. I still don’t want it. It is with me now, for the rest of my days, so I have to decide how diabetes and I are going to get along.

So here’s what I’m grateful for. I am grateful for technology – within weeks of diagnosis, I was wearing a continuous glucose monitor, the Dexcom, and I get readings to the device, my iPhone, Apple Watch, and my daughter and spouse, who get alerts when my blood sugar starts to tank. This technology wakes me up when I could sleep though a hypoglycemic episode…or worse.

I’m grateful for the Omnipod. Instead of having to inject insulin multiple times a day, I have a pump that gives me my insulin.

I am fortunate to have good insurance. Insulin and diabetic supplies are criminally expensive. My last insurance was so bad, I quit my job to get off of it. My insulin was $600/month until I met my deductible. I require insulin to live. I had no idea the pharmaceutical companies are making a fortune off the insulin that was given to future diabetics by the scientists that formulated it.

I’m blessed to have a supportive and caring husband and family, who watch over me and hold me accountable. Who eat the low carb meals I eat, and forgo my former favorites, now forbidden foods, to help me keep my resolve.

I’m exercising daily. I eat regular small meals. I drink tons of water. I see my physicians regularly, and have my eyes and feet examined annually. I do what is recommended.

I’m determined to live as healthy as I can, and avoid the sequelae that can come with uncontrolled blood sugars.

All I can do is all I can do, though. A wise and very experienced diabetic told me that he could eat and do the same exact things on two different days and have completely different blood sugar results.

I want the magic formula….but there isn’t one. So I’ll do what I know to do.

And on a hard day, I’ll eat a rocky road brownie as I cry.