I had a nice day at work - focused and productive. I was happy to see one of my friends at the bus stop and we exchanged pleasantries about the weekend coming up. Then another person came along and said "oh, how can you stand it out here - it's 90 degrees!" Well, until then, I hadn't thought a smidge about the weather - no opinion whatsoever - it's July in Minnesota, no more, no less. But.......within a few seconds I started to feel a tad uncomfortable, and craned my neck to see the digital thermometer on the bank up the street. It said 96 degrees (in direct sun) and then I noticed that my face suddenly felt flushed, my hair was starting to frizz and my skin felt like the sweat was oozing out in big honking drops. All because of the numbers...............the numbers that dictate how we should feel at a certain temperature.
Since I started working on my control, I think a lot about numbers and sometimes they tell me how to feel. When I get on the scale and the numbers haven't changed, I feel like a big fat cow and hear "nothing's gonna make you look good today, so don't bother putting on anything nice". When I look at my pedometer at the end of the day and see 9950 rather than 10,000 steps, I hear, "you are lazy and undisciplined - why even bother". When I take my blood pressure and see 128/75 I hear "that's toward the top of the target range - I'd be really worried if I were you".
And when my dawn phenomenon is very active and I wake up with a blood sugar of 180, I hear "ha - your day is off to a rotten start so you might as well stop at Starbuck's and get a nice gooey cinnamon roll".
The numbers can change my mood in the second that it takes them to appear.
Yes, I am thankful for the wealth of information that numbers provide - when my meter tells me my blood sugar is 42, it's time to treat the hypo; when my A1C goes down .5 of a point, it's time for a pat on the back.
But, the next time the numbers threaten to throw me into an irational, undies in a bundle tailspin of shame, apathy, fear and depression, I'm going to calmly say, "you're not the boss of me" and walk away.