I made my first big decision as an adult in a coffee shop after eating a giant banana muffin. It wasn’t easy to pick up a coin-operated pay phone, but it was the only way to go. The time has come to quit university. “Are you serious?” my father asked. I had no doubts. I felt it was good to grow up and make my own decisions.
The decision to irrevocably change my life was easy. In fact, all the important decisions in my life after that were well made. What’s driving me crazy right now are the micro-decisions that have been thrown at me since being diagnosed with diabetes.
Are you serious? 180 decisions a day?
What should I do when I wake up to an unusually low pressure system on Thursday? Did I act too long last night? If so, how long should the morning dose work? Was it a fluke? And how much sugar does it take to fix low carb? And what will happen to the Akatsuki phenomenon that is about to begin? And when the rebound gets high and it’s breakfast time, how much do you need to correct? Is it 1/2 unit or the whole unit? Oh, he just takes one small unexpected event and every decision after that is like walking on a knife edge.
I really talk to myself about every decision I make now.
Why was it so easy to quit your job and move to another country, but impossible to decide how much insulin to take in a sweet potato or corn fritter?
In the past, when I had to make a big decision in my life, especially a difficult one, I would imagine myself in the future after making the decision. How would I feel and what would my life look like?
Trying to apply it to high or low corrections doesn’t work. Diabetes decisions are a combination of logic and guesswork. Who cares how I feel?
And the worst part? No one can make decisions for me. I’m adjusting the amount, adjusting the dosage, and hoping for the best. As a nutritionist recently told me. At the end of the day, you just need to do your best.
So that’s what I’ve been doing for the past three rollercoaster days. I try not to leave decision-making to me. It’s literally about absorbing it, making a decision, and letting it go. So far, it’s not as much of a train collision as I thought. Huh!
With respect…
rachel
