Friday the 25th (tomorrow as I write) will be the day I mark as the fourth anniversary of my diagnosis as a Type 2 diabetic. (The actual date is lost to history, so I use the last Friday in May.)
After four years, where am I? It's a come-and-go situation.
My diabetes management comes and goes. My healthy eating comes and goes. (Haven't seen it lately, gotta say.) My blogging and advocacy come and go.
(On the other hand, my feeble jokes are always with us.)
Thus far, in my life with this changeable disease, control has been pretty consistent even if my contribution to that control have not. I was diagnosed with an hbA1c of 9.5 (cleverly bypassing the controversial 'borderline' diagnosis). Three months later, I was within 'normal' range. (Thank you, Metformin.) Since then I've stayed more-or-less stable, though I feel (without a lot of objective evidence) that things are slipping some. My doctor's still happy, however.
It seems like it's been much longer than four years.