Sunday night Super Bowl Party, a feast of football, food and fun. I'll rant about why non-Americans can't watch American football without a) going into a coma or b) going ballistic another time, but it has to do with switching to an advert every time someone does something interesting like catch a ball, or run with a ball. Tell me, if the game is only 60 minutes long why does it take four freakin' hours to get a result? But I digress.
Very aware that I have an endo appointment at 9:50 the following morning and the six weeks I had to take off from the gym for the ankle injury will have done nothing to improve my A1c, I avoid bread, rice, pasta, desserts and stick to chili, guacamole and a few potato chips. I also pass on the beer and have a gin and diet tonic. This is risky for me because diet tonic still makes me BG soar like the real stuff, but I was low before I started and I'm really counting carbs carefully tonight.
I know some thing's wrong when we get home and I feel sick, I test: 415. What? What the hell was in that chili? Fast forward to Monday morning when I hand over my meter to my endo. "So how have you been?" she asks as she hits the results button "What on earth happened here?" she squeaked. We discussed the game for a while because I couldn't account for the 415 but I wasn't looking forward to the phone call from the nurse when my blood work came back.
And yet, despite the lack of exercise and the Super Bowl pig out my A1c was 6.6. A whole .1 lower than last time. I was shooting for 5.9 but lower is always better so I'll take it. But next year I'll avoid the chili, too.