Running On Autopilot.......

Usually when I can do something on autopilot it’s a good thing.  It means it has become a part of my routine and I can quickly get the chore done without investing too much brainpower.

But sometimes?  Sometimes running on autopilot doesn’t work so well.  Like this morning when I did my site change.  I estimate that I’ve done well over 1,200 site changes in my years of pumping, so I most certainly run on autopilot when I do them.  Remove the old site.  Rewind the pump.  Disinfect both my skin and the insulin bottle.  Fill the new reservoir.  Tap out the bubbles.  Connect the tubing.  Prime and confirm that I see drops of insulin at the end of the needle.  Remove needle guard.  Insert site.

Oops!!  That’s right, I missed a step.  PEEL BACKING OFF OF ADHESIVE!!!  My fresh new site immediately fell out because I didn’t expose the “glue” that keeps it stuck to me for the next three days.

Just because I’ve done something more than 1,200 times doesn’t mean I shouldn’t continue to pay closer attention during the next 1,200 times.  Because autopilot apparently doesn’t always work out so well…..

Throwback Thursday: What Brings Me Down - #DBlog Week Day 4

We are flying through #DBlogWeek with only today and tomorrow left to go!  Before I get to today’s post, I want to remind everyone of the Link Lists.  From what I can tell, most of you have been remembering to add your posts each day.  (Thank you for that!!)  It really is the best way for other bloggers (and lurkers) to find what you’ve written each day.  You can find the link list for each prompt right on the Topics Page.  Be sure click over and add your corresponding post to that list, if you haven’t already.  And as always, if you have any questions feel free to email me.  Okay, on to Day 4!!

We’re going to go back to a past blog week topic from 2014. May is Mental Health Month so now seems like a great time to explore the emotional side of living with, or caring for someone with, diabetes. What things can make dealing with diabetes an emotional issue for you and / or your loved one, and how do you cope? (Thanks again to Scott for this 2014 topic.)

*Big sigh*  You know, I hate to say it, but I’m just not sure I have it in me to deal with all the emotional stuff today.  The past two days have been pretty brutal and I’m barely hanging on.  If I really start digging into my emotional black hole, I’m afraid I’ll get swallowed up by it.  And there is a whole tag labeled Depression where I’ve written about what brings me down in the past.  So instead I’m going to jump to the what helps me cope portion of the prompt and talk about What Brings Me Up.

Actually, I can sum it up in one word.  SUPPORT.  Both giving and receiving support is what helps keep me positive and helps get me through.  And to be more specific, here are a bunch of examples:

• My work as site moderator and research assistant over at DiabetesSistersVoices.
• Leading the DiabetesSisters Virtual PODS every month.
• Not just attending the Diabetes Unconference, but more recently acting as one of the facilitators as well.
• Spending the week with the awesome group of bloggers who have signed on for #DBlogWeek.  (Thank you!!!)  
• And also spending it with the fantastic people who support us by reading and tweeting and commenting.  (Thank you!!)
• This cat video.  Seriously you have no idea how much of a boost it brings to my state of mind.
• Friends who greet me with Good Words every morning.
• Friends who text to let me know they always have my back.
• Friends who text about big wieners.  (Sorry for indulging in an inside joke..)
• Not just blaming my husband for anything and everything, but doing so with a #blamePete hashtag. And having it catch on with both friends and acquaintances.
• And, saving the best for last, this little noodle cat.

When all the crap of diabetes really brings me down, I’m so lucky I have all of this to bring me back up.


You can find more What Brings Me Down posts listed here.

What is Diabetes Blog Week? Click here for an explanation and to sign up. You can also check out the Participant’s List here. And don't forget to check out the DBlogWeek Facebook page here.

The Cost of a Chronic Illness - #DBlogWeek Day 2

It’s the second day of  Diabetes Blog Week and we’re off to a great start so far with 105 bloggers signed up.  Please take a look at the Participant’s List and make sure I’ve listed your information correctly.  I double checked every entry but I’m far from perfect so if I’ve made an error please email me and I will fix it right away.  If you’re blogging along with us but haven’t signed up, please do take a quick minute to do so over here.  It helps me keep tabs on how many bloggers are still interested in DBlogWeek and also helps other bloggers find you.

Today’s topic is The Cost of a Chronic Illness. Insulin and other diabetes medications and supplies can be costly. Here in the US, insurance status and age (as in Medicare eligibility) can impact both the cost and coverage. So today, let’s discuss how cost impacts our diabetes care. Do you have advice to share? For those outside the US, is cost a concern? Are there other factors such as accessibility or education that cause barriers to your diabetes care? (This topic was inspired by suggestions from Rick and Jen.)

The financial cost of life with diabetes has been a very hot topic lately.  Here in the U.S., costs are rising and the political climate has a lot of us feeling fearful about the future.  I don’t know what will happen and I’m honestly scared.  But on the same token, I know I’ve been very lucky.  I’ve never had to go without my medications.  I’ve always had good insurance.  Things certainly aren’t cheap, but we’ve never had to choose between paying bills or buying food or purchasing diabetes supplies.  I know how lucky and privileged I’ve been so far.

So when I think about the cost of my chronic illness, it isn’t always the dollars I’m thinking of.  Instead, it’s less tangible things.  Diabetes costs me countless hours of sleep treating middle of the night lows or correcting stubborn overnight highs.  I’ve paid with so many tears of frustration when I’ve tried my hardest and things still don’t go well.  It costs me guilt when I see the worry in my husband’s eye or hear the panic in his voice when he’s leaving me a second voicemail and I haven’t answered the phone.  Diabetes charges a lot in energy and brain power just to  keep myself alive.  It has repossessed my nights when plans are cancelled because out of range blood sugars have left me too exhausted to go out.

I know there will be many powerful posts shared today and in the future about the huge financial cost of diabetes.   But life with a chronic illness costs so much more than dollars and cents.


You can find more Cost of  a Chronic Illness posts listed here.

What is Diabetes Blog Week? Click here for an explanation and to sign up. You can also check out the Participant’s List here. And don't forget to check out the DBlogWeek Facebook page here.

Why Don't You Change it Out?

“Ouch!”

From the moment I inserted the infusion set, it hurt.  Not a constant throbbing pain, but a soreness that spiked up every time something brushed up against it.

“That site still hurts?” Pete asked.  “Why don’t you change it out?”

I can tell you exactly why I didn’t.  This sore site was working really well.  You know what I mean, that blissfully flat graph on the CGM that can be so difficult to achieve.  There was no way I was wasting a good site just because it hurt when something touched it.

Let’s read that last sentence again.  There was no way I was wasting a good site just because it hurt when something touched it.  The more I think about it, the more I realize how weird the way I think is.  What rational person does not try to relieve something painful?  Why is wasting a site given a higher priority than my own comfort?  Good blood sugars are important, but isn’t being pain free just as important?

Honestly, the answer is no.  I had planned to keep that painful site in until today, when it would be time to change it out.  I did get a bit of a reprieve towards the end of the day yesterday when I started to struggle with unexplained highs that wouldn’t come down.  I decided the painful site was starting to go bad, so I swapped it out 12 hours ahead of schedule.

It’s nice to be back to an infusion site that doesn’t shoot stabs of pain every time it’s touched.  But I can’t help being annoyed with myself because I value a stupid infusion site more than I value my own comfort.

Diabetes Day Off....

Pete and I have often discussed giving me a Diabetes Day Off.  Of course, it wouldn't really be a day off from diabetes because that just isn't about to happen any time soon.  But the idea is that Pete would take over all of my diabetes tasks for a day.  When my blood sugar needed checking, I'd give him the finger (so to speak) and he'd do the rest.  He would do all the carb counting and I'd happily let him program the bolus on my pump.  He would follow my CGM data on his phone.  I'd even put him in charge of a site change if I needed one.  Basically diabetes would be out of my hands (and hopefully off my brain) for one complete day.

As I've said, we've talked about this often.  He's even gone as far as to say "Let's give you that Diabetes Day Off on Saturday.".  But as soon as I agree, he begins to think of reasons to postpone.

I get it.  I'm sure the thought of doing diabetes is scary for him.  Insulin can be very dangerous, and too much or too little can have some very serious consequences.  I'm pretty sure he is terrified of really hurting me.  And if I take a moment to try to see it from his perspective, I totally get it.

So onward we go.  He is a fantastic supporter and he helps out a lot.  I often give him the finger (so to speak) and he'll do a sugar check.  When I'm low he'll get me the juice or candy.  But the overall diabetes management continues to be all mine, all day, every day.  And I guess I'm okay with that.  I don't want to put stress and pressure on him to take over when it makes him so uncomfortable.

It sure is nice to dream about a Diabetes Day Off though.....

What Would You Do If . . . .

When I was a tween . . . well . . . when I was a tween the word “tween” didn’t exist, actually.  But that’s beside the point.  Anyway, when I was a tween we had a favorite game at sleepovers called “What Would You Do If . . . “.  Shocking scenarios were imagined and we had to confess what we would do.  For example, “what would you do if you were walking home from school with insert name of current crush here and . . . HE TRIED TO KISS YOU?!?!?!”.  As you can imagine, our tween selves did a lot of giggling and blushing but not a lot of sleeping at these sleepovers.

As silly as this game was, it turns out What Would You Do If was somewhat useful.  Because living with diabetes kind of has me in a constant round of WWYDI. 

What would I do if my blood sugar crashed at 2a.m.?  I keep a jar of GlucoLift on my night table.

What would I do if I was traveling and my bottle of insulin broke?  I pack a spare bottle or two.

What would I do if my blood sugar went dangerously low and I passed out?  We have glucagon in Pete’s dresser drawer and also in my purse.  And it isn’t even expired!!

What would I do if my pump had a major meltdown and stopped working?  I have a old pump as a backup.  I also have some syringes and long-acting insulin. (But I'm pretty sure that has expired . . . )

Living with a chronic illness means I need to prepare for the unexpected and consider what I would do in various situations.  It’s a good skill to have, even though the diabetes version isn’t as silly or fun as our tween sleepover version.  So what’s on your Diabetes What Would You Do If list?

Tune-Out . . . .

This isn’t Diabetes Burnout.  At least this isn’t what burnout looks like for me.  But there is definitely something going on.  And I’ve realized it’s best described as Diabetes Tune-out.

When I’m in burnout, things get really sloppy.  I swag bolus more than I carb count.  I dose off my CGM rather than doing finger sticks.  I don’t pre-bolus.  I graze and randomly dose.  I take CGM breaks.  I feel really really aggravated with diabetes and I just want to ignore it.  (I don’t ignore it . . . . because I want to live . . . . . but when I’m burnt I really really want to ignore it.  And maybe I ignore bits and pieces of diabetes.)

None of that is going on here.  But something is.  I just don’t want to think about diabetes.  I don’t want to write about it.  Or Tweet or Facebook.  Or comment on blogs.  Or participate in #dsma.  Or do all those other things I usually love to do.  Instead I’ve just wanted to tune out.  And so, I have.

Instead, I’ve been cooking and baking and working on the house.  I’ve been gardening in the sunshine.  I’ve been shopping and going out for cocktails.  I’ve been texting my friends with pictures of my cat sticking out her tongue.  I’ve been doing fun stuff, quietly and without tying it to diabetes.  In a way, I’ve been sticking out my tongue at diabetes.


I realize that Diabetes Tune-Out is maybe something I need to let happen every so often.  I think (and hope) it might be the break I need to fend off  Diabetes Burnout.  But today, I felt like writing a post.  And I’m looking forward to participating in #dsma tonight.  I’m ready to tune back in.

Sick Day Plan . . .

Having a Sick Day Plan in place is one of the D-Shoulds for me.  You know, that list of things I’ve been told ALL PEOPLE WITH DIABETES SHOULD but somehow I kind of don’t always.  You know, things like change my lancet before each finger-stick (hahahahaha), never walk around without shoes on (hmmmm), don’t treat off my CGM (right) and always always wear medical I.d.  (even just around the house?).  And always have a Sick Day Plan in place.

Errr, well.  The thing is, I get a lot of colds.  A lot.  If someone even looks at me, I swear their cold germs rush over and take root in my system.  It’s been like this ever since I can remember and I just deal.  But I hardly hardly ever get a stomach virus.  Almost never!!  But yesterday was a different story.

When Pete’s alarm went off yesterday and I couldn’t drag myself out of bed, I just figured I was tired.  I let myself sleep ( a perk of freelance / unemployment) and at 9 I finally got up and made some coffee.  But when the coffee didn’t stay down, I realized what was gong on.  And I thought about my Sick Day Plan.  Or actually,  my lack of one.

Luckily, I feel like I do know the basics through my interactions with the DOC.  I knew to check for ketones (negative, yay!), keep a  close eye on  my blood sugars (70s - 130, yay!) and stay hydrated.  By mid-morning I was able to keep down crackers and diet soda.  I didn’t bolus for the crackers until I knew they would stay.  And I had glucagon ready just in case things with my blood sugar went south.  All in all, I’d say I did okay.

But still, I think I should probably add a Sick Day Plan to the list of things to talk over at my next endo appointment.  Right?  Do you have a formal Sick Day Plan in place?  And if so, what does it include?

Diabetes Intuition . . . .

Ever just have a feeling about something?  When you know in your gut something isn’t quite right, even if you don’t have hard evidence to support it?  It happens in life, and for me, it especially happens in life with diabetes.  For example, let’s say I go out for dinner.  And I look at the plate of food in front of me and I look at the carb count given by the restaurant’s website, and I just know the information isn’t right.  Or maybe I’m at the endo and my basals are being tweaked, and I just know the new basal rates aren’t going to work.  (Although I must say, my endo absolutely respects and listens to my input.)

My diabetes intuition was blaring yesterday during my site change.  When the new site went in, I just had a gut feeling that something was off.  And I wondered, do I listen to my diabetes intuition or not?  On one hand, I’d hate to pull a perfectly good site because I had a feeling but no proof.  And if I had been wearing a sensor, I probably would’ve given the site a chance, knowing that my CGM would alert me if the site did indeed fail.  But last week I decided to take that sensor break, and I wouldn’t be starting my new sensor until this morning.  (I like to leave them in overnight before I put in my first calibration.)  Of course, there is also the option of just checking my blood sugar frequently for a few hours to determine if the site is working or not.  But I’ve been having a rough time lately, struggling with some major depression, and I just didn’t want to worry about increased sugar checking.  So, I decided the best thing to do was to go with my gut.  I pulled the minutes old site and inserted a new one.

It's times like these when I wish I had a diabetes crystal ball to rely on, instead of using diabetes intuition.  That would really be useful in our diabetes management, wouldn’t it?  Of course, even it it existed, our insurance probably wouldn’t cover it anyway . . . .

So when has your diabetes intuition kicked in?  And did you listen to what it said?

Push Through or Give In . . .

I believe one of the things diabetes has taught me over the years is when I should push through and when I should give in.  For example, there are some low blood sugars that I’m able to treat and just keep on with what I’m doing.  And there are some that make me give in and sit down for 10 (or 15 or 20) minutes while my blood sugar recovers and I’m able to get back to living life.  High blood sugars are similar - sometimes I can just bolus my correction and get on with things while the insulin works it’s magic.  Other times, I need to stop and check for ketones, have some water and re-check often to be sure the insulin is doing what it’s supposed to.  Judging whether I’m in a Give In or Push Through situation isn’t always easy, but usually I know which is the right thing to do.  (Even if I don’t like it and don’t want to admit it.)

The skill of knowing when to push through and when to give in is something I can (and should) carry over into my non-diabetes life as well.  In fact, today is the perfect case in point.  I woke up this morning feeling a little tired but that’s not all that unusual when you have a husband who snores and a cat who likes to sleep on one of your knees.  (She may be less than 10 pounds, but it feels like a ton when she’s resting it all on one of my knees.)  As I drank my much needed coffee the sneezing began.  And it didn’t let up.  I’m literally stopping every 20 seconds to reach for more tissues and my nose is turning a festive red.  “It’s okay” I thought “I can still push through.”.  Then my throat began hurting.  And my eyes were begging for a nap.  And some chills and aches crept in.  And I’ve decided today is not a day to push through.

I think that without diabetes, I’d probably force myself through the day.  And I’d probably do a crappy job on everything because I’m not feeling well.  Instead, I’m smart enough to realize it’s time to give in.  I’m going to close the lid on my laptop, brew a cup of tea with honey, and curl up on the couch with a blanket, my cat and Netflix.  And everything else?  I can deal with that all tomorrow.  Because in the words of my favorite heroine . . .

“After all, tomorrow is another day.”

(In fact, the heck with Netflix, today might be the perfect day to pop on my Gone with the Wind DVD again!)

10 Insane (but True) Things About Diabetes . . .

I’ll admit that my blogging mojo seems to be on Summer Vacation.  Try as I might, I can’t come up with anything to write about.  So in a moment of desperation (because OMG if I don’t blog about diabetes they might take it away from me)  (also, wouldn’t that be GREAT???) . . . anyway, in a moment of desperation I turned to Blog Topic Generators.  I didn’t really have high hopes that this would solve my problem but I typed in the word “diabetes” and hit the button.  To my surprise, a few fun ideas popped up!

“10 Insane (but True) Things” caught my eye right away.  Because really, diabetes is pretty insane, right?   So here are my 10.  Maybe you’ll find yourself nodding along.  Or maybe you’d like to add a few that I missed.  Or maybe you randomly stumbled across my blog, in which case I hope I’ve helped you learn some insane (but true) diabetes facts.

1. The very medication that saves my life can very easily kill me.  -  What kind of sick joke is this, right?  Without a steady stream of insulin, I will die.  But dosing a bit too much insulin can also be lethal.
2. Strangers (and  even people I know) seem to think it’s perfectly fine to tell me “diabetes horror stories”. - I really don’t understand what makes it okay to tell me about relatives with limbs chopped off or blindness or failed kidneys.  Sometimes I wonder if people do this for other illnesses too?  “Oh, colon cancer.  My grandmother had that and they removed part of her large intestine and she had to have a colostomy bag!”.  Please tell me people don’t say things like that - and please make them stop doing it about diabetes.
3. When things go wrong, I get blamed. - The blame.  Oh the blame!!!  It sucks.  Blood sugars out of range?  Diabetes complications?  Must be because you aren’t taking care of yourself.  Again I have to ask if people do this with other illnesses?  “My uncle had skin cancer on his nose and they operated and it destroyed his salivary glands and for the rest of his life he couldn’t eat and was fed protein shakes through a feeding tube.  But, you know, he was a landscaper so he was in the sun all day long, so he really brought it on himself.”  Nobody would ever say that about skin cancer, right?  (Oh I sincerely hope not!!)  But it’s okay to tell a horror story with a side of blame about diabetes?  Come on, can we PLEASE stop doing this??
4. Even though diabetes is an incurable chronic illness, people will tell me how to cure it. - Let’s hear it for the wonder cures!!  Cinnamon, okra, magic herbs, dancing naked under a full moon.  Once, while buying a JDRF sneaker at a pharmacy, the cashier proceeded to tell me that there is a cure for Type 1 in Europe and why I didn’t just go there?  I shutter to think what a statement like that does to the fundraising efforts . . . .  donate to Sneakers for the Cure?  No, just go to Europe!!
5. I can be fine, and five minutes later I can be totally incoherent.  - Sometimes it’s scary how fast and severe a low can come on.  Toss in my hypoglycemic unawareness and the chance that I’ll randomly lose my ability to function at any point in the day increases.  Especially if I’m shopping at Target, am I right?
6. The results often do not equal the effort. - I can do the exact same thing at the exact same time two days in a row, and go way high one day and way low the next.  Or I can have a day when I try really hard and still have crap blood sugars.  And I can totally half-ass diabetes management one day but find myself solidly in range.  Makes no sense!  It can also make motivation really hard to find sometimes.
7. There is no finish line in diabetes and I can’t EVER have a day off.  - Yes, I know, this is what puts the “chronic” in “chronic illness”.  But think about it.  Since 1979, I’ve dealt with a condition that needs almost constant attention and is affected by a million different factors.  SINCE 1979!!!!  Not a single day off.  I did it yesterday.  I’ll do it today.  I’ll be doing it again tomorrow, and next week, and next year.  Frankly, if I think about this too much, it’s exhausting.
8. Diabetes is hard on my body.  -  I have callouses on my fingertips from repeatedly lancing them to draw blood to check my glucose.  Every three days I jab the needle of an infusion set into my skin.  Every six days I do the same with my continuous glucose monitor.  For my first 28 years with diabetes, syringes were stabbed into me at least once a day and often almost a dozen times daily.  Bruises and scar tissue and red marks abound.  Medical devices must hang from even the most chic of outfits.  And let's not forget the toll diabetes takes on me internally, to my eyes and my heart and my nerves and every part of me.
9. Diabetes is even harder on my mind. - The blame from Item 3?  It doesn’t just come from the outside world.  It also come from me.  When things go wrong I’m the first to blame myself.  Now let’s mix in some fear from Items 1 and 5.  Toss in some distorted body image from Item 8.  And let’s not forget some WTFedness from Items 6 and 7.  Mix it all together and it brings me to Item 10 . . . . which is . . . .
10. Diabetes is just insanely hard.

On A Break . . . .

I’m starting to notice a pattern developing over the last couple of years.  While I wouldn’t change a single thing about Diabetes Blog Week because it is probably my  favorite week of the year, I come away from it needing a bit of a break.  I find I’m ready to put the focus on other areas of my life that get neglected while I’m working on DBlogWeek.  I take a bit of a social media hiatus and instead give some attention to my house, my cat, my husband, the beautiful weather  . . . . .

I guess I’m okay with that.  We all need a little break once in a while.  What I’m not okay with is the fact that this year, the break has seeped into diabetes management a bit.  I haven’t worn a sensor in over a week.  Every day I have great intentions of inserting a fresh one and every night I go to bed sensorless - and happy about it.  There was the evening I realized I hadn’t tested my blood sugar since my fasting finger stick, and had just guessed at any carbs I ate and randomly bolused.  If I feel low, I treat - without confirming first on my meter.

The one thing I’m happy about is that when I do test and I’m high, I don’t get upset - I just correct and move on.  I guess it’s easier for me to take the emotion out when my focus is on things other than diabetes.  But I think it’s time to come back from my break.  I’ve written this post, so I’ve ended the social media hiatus.  Maybe this afternoon I’ll finally put a sensor in.  I’ll definitely test before I eat my lunch.  But the emotions when diabetes doesn’t exactly go as planned?  Maybe I’ll try to keep them on their break indefinitely . . . .

#IWishPeopleKnewThatDiabetes . . . .

Last week while I was sick I missed out on #IWishPeopleKnewThatDiabetes Day, an initiative organized by Kelly.  So in “better late than never” style I wanted to jump in now.


My perspective on this is due in part to my participation in the Health E Voices conference a couple of weekends ago.  The conference brought together people from a variety of different health communities, including rheumatoid arthritis, Inflammatory Bowel Disease, lupus, HIV, mental health,  different types of cancer and more.  How much do you know about any of these conditions?  Are you sure that what you know is actually correct?  I realized that weekend how much I don’t know about other health conditions - even ones that have affected my own family members.  For example, my grandmother had rheumatoid arthritis but I know very little about it other than it made it very hard for her to grip things with her hands and that knitting helped her.

I sat with these people, who are my peers but who live with conditions I know very little about.  And as it turns out, many knew little about diabetes.  So we talked.  We connected.  We respectfully, and somewhat apologetically, admitted to not knowing about each other’s conditions.  And it was okay.  And we shared.  And we learned a lot from each other.  And we realized that although we lived with different health concerns, we had so much in common.  It was pretty magical.

Photo provided by Janssen conference photographer.

 So what do #IWishPeopleKnewThatDiabetes?  I wish people knew that diabetes is not something I expect you to know everything about.  And that much of what you think you know may not be correct.  And that is absolutely okay, because unless you or someone very close to you lives with diabetes there is no reason for you to know the ins and outs.  And that you are more than welcome to ask me, in a respectful and honest manner.  Don’t be embarrassed for not knowing.  Just be open to learning and understand that I (mostly) know what I’m talking about because I’ve lived with diabetes for more than 35 years.  And I’m willing to share my perspective.

Disclosure:  Janssen Global Services paid for my travel expenses for the conference. All thoughts and opinions expressed here are my own.

The Lost Week . . . .

It’s almost like last week never really happened.  Last Sunday I returned from the Health E Voices conference with a sore throat, which I blamed on my hour spent in the not so clean (and kinda scary) Newark train station.  (I’ll most definitely be sharing more about the conference soon, but I was invited by and my travel and accommodations were paid for by the host, Janssen.)  I often end up with colds when I travel, so I didn’t think much of it.  On Monday I was pretty congested so I spent most of the day resting.  Usually that helps me recover fairly quickly.

This time that wasn’t the case.  By Tuesday I was much worse and had spiked a fever.  As I said,  I often pick up colds when I travel, and I’ve been very susceptible to colds for as long as I can remember, but I almost never have a fever.  I can’t even recall how long ago my last fever was.  So I spent the day in bed.  On Wednesday morning the fever was gone and I felt better so I headed off to a meeting.  Bad idea.  But the afternoon my fever was back and higher than before, and I felt even worse.  I ended staying in bed right through until yesterday, when I finally felt well enough to venture out for a few hours.

The problem is, I missed a lot of stuff while I was sick.  I’m most disappointed about having to cancel my trip to the DiabetesSisters Leadership Institute over the weekend.  I also needed to cancel a few other appointments during the week and I’m now completely behind on Diabetes Blog Week preparations and other general life stuff.  And my house is a wreck (which I hate!!).

So yes, I was Real People Sick <--- click then scroll down  and I was really sad and disappointed to  miss out on a whole bunch of stuff.  But I thought about how I would have felt if I had been Diabetes Sick and had to cancel my entire week.  And you know what?  It would’ve been much worse.  I would have been so angry.  I would have felt like a failure.  Why is that?  Why do I continue to let diabetes get the best of my emotions.  Sick is sick - it shouldn’t matter if my body can’t handle a germy invasion or a diabetes invasion.  But somehow it does, right?  Do you get more upset at being diabetes sick rather than real people sick too?

Time Stands Still . . . .

Isn’t it funny how time can seem to pass at such varied speeds?  The weekends zip by in a blink while weekdays pass much more slowly.  Today I’m willing to put money on the fact that winter is three times as long as any other season.  (Yeah, I know that isn’t true, but as I look out the window and see everything coated in ice it sure feels true.)  And, of course, there are many times when diabetes certainly makes time crawl.  Like when?  Well, I’m glad you asked.

Pre-bolusing!  I try to dose my insulin about 20 minutes before I eat.  And oh my gosh, those 20 minutes take FOREVER to pass.

Coming down from a high!  Ugh, high blood sugars.  Sleepy, achy, thirsty, syrupy. sluggish torture.  Even the fastest of our fast acting insulin can’t provide relief quickly enough.  And the whole time I’m trying to talk myself out of rage-bolusing, which will only result in a ride on the glucocoaster.  And I hate rollercoasters of any kind!

Starting a new sensor!  It takes two hours after inserting a new sensor before you can enter the first calibration to get it up and running.  In those two hours it’s important to keep blood sugars as stable as possible.  Which is actually kind of laughable, because, you know, diabetes doesn’t really play that way.  Suddenly very hungry?  Sorry, wait two hours.  Feel yourself dropping low (which, ironically, you probably would’ve caught sooner if your sensor was running)?  Well, you have to treat, but now you’d better wait even longer before putting in that first sensor calibration.  Oh the things that happen in those two interminable hours.

Coming up from a low!  Or, more fairly, coming up  from a nasty low.  You know the ones?  Shaky, sweaty, confused, feeling like you are going to keel over any minute.  I really despise those lows, and they usually seem to drag on forever!

Are you with me on this?  What other instances have I missed when diabetes makes time absolutely crawl?

35 years . . . .

One day this month is my 35th diaversary.  We don’t know my exact diagnosis date, so I always just pick a day somewhere during the middle of December to observe the demise of my pancreas.  Today seems as good a day as any.

I find myself with conflicted feelings about living 35 years with diabetes.  It seems like such a huge chunk of time.  And as I like to say, life with diabetes hasn’t been all bad.  I’ve met some of my best friends because of diabetes.  Real-world friends.  On-line friends.  And, perhaps the most dear to me, on-line friends who have become real-world friends . . . . or actually more like family.  And even my “twin”.  I’ve had some great experiences and opportunities that probably wouldn’t ever have come about if not for diabetes.  For all of that, I’m thankful.

But honestly, at this moment I feel the good is no match for the bad.  There are things about diabetes that make me so angry.  And I’m going to vent them here, today, because I’ve decided after 35 years I have that right.  Here goes . . .

Diabetes, I hate that on Sunday morning I was sleeping soundly and in the middle of a dream when I awoke to Pete putting his hand on my back.  He explained that I wasn’t moving and he couldn’t see me breathing, so “I got scared and had to make sure you still felt warm.”.  That moment showed Dead in Bead is a real fear for my husband, and I despise that.

Diabetes, I hate that 11 year old me had to watch other kids eat cake that I was denied at birthday parties in the days of exchange diets and crappy insulin.   I hate that I still carry scars from that.

Diabetes, I hate that every time someone judges my diabetes management, a small piece of my confidence is chipped away.  And I hate that every time someone judges someone else’s diabetes management, a small piece of my heart breaks.

Diabetes, I hate that no matter how badly I need to take a break from you, that isn’t possible.  Pete and I have talked about giving me a Diabetes Day Off, but I think he’s so afraid of hurting me he just can’t do it.  We joke about wanting to bribe hire a D-Mom to come take over for a day.  Truthfully, it isn’t really a joke because I would absolutely love to be able to do that.

Diabetes, I hate that as a teen I would lay awake at night counting how many healthy years I thought I had left.  I didn’t think I had many, maybe 5 or 10.  I was sure I’d be long dead by now.  I really thought there was no use trying to take care of myself, because complications and early death were guaranteed.  Yes, I’m happy I was wrong about that, but I hate that I felt I had no future.

Diabetes, I hate that you make my loved ones worry about me.  I also hate that their worry probably runs far deeper than I can even imagine.

Diabetes, I hate the fear you bring to every eye exam and lab test.  I hate feeling like I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

In 35 years I’ve built up a lot of diabetes hatred.  But, of course, I know diabetes is here and it isn’t going anywhere.  So in the end, after I’ve let myself have this good venting session, I’m picking myself up and just continuing on . . . . . .

Reboot my Pancreas . . . . .

Last week was a craptastic one.  The coffee maker went from leaving a small spot of water behind after brewing coffee to completely saturating the cloth I’d been putting underneath to catch that bit of water. So off I went to Target for a new coffee maker (since coffee is priority #1 in my house).  Of course, I went low in Target (like you do) and probably made a bit of an ass of myself at the register because I was pretty damn confused by the checkout process.  After several Starbursts and a GoGo Squeeze apple sauce I was okay to drive home, only to find my laptop’s hard drive had died.


So obviously most of my weekend revolved around my computer-less status.  Words like reboot . . . . reinstall . . . . . import . . . . backup . . . . pepper my vocabulary more than I’d like.  Which made me think, although this whole process is like spending some quality time with Lucifer, wouldn’t it be worth it if we could do for a pancreas what we do for a computer?  First, before diabetes comes to visit, we backup.  At the first diabetes symptoms, we do a virus scan on our immune system and send the virus to the vault.  Then, import that healthy immune system and pancreas that we backed up and reinstall them.  And then, do a reboot and no more diabetes!

Ah well, it’s nice to dream, isn’t it?  But I suppose a pancreas reboot isn’t happening today.  I’ll have to settle for the import / restore that is happening on my brand new laptop instead.

Holiday Strategy . . . .

‘Tis the season . . . . for a bazillion articles with advice on how to handle diabetes during holiday parties.  Everywhere I turn I’m reading game plans for resisting festive treats and eating healthy at celebrations.  And can I let you in on a little secret?  I ignore all of them!

I work really hard on my diabetes management all year long.  I’m not perfect - not even close.  Shit happens.  But I follow the game plan my endo and I have come up with and, for the most part, my labs are all good.  We are happy with my A1C.  My standard deviation is fine.  The small bleeds found in my eyes several years ago are long gone.  My hard work is paying off for now.

So, quite frankly, I’m NOT going to eat an apple before leaving for a party so I’m not tempted by the appetizers.  I’m NOT going to fill up on crudité without the dip.  I’m NOT going to choose only lean proteins and vegetables at the buffet.  I’m NOT going to drink sparkling water instead of wine.  I’m NOT going to have only one bite of dessert to taste and pass on the rest.  Don’t get me wrong, if those tips work for you then I certainly respect that.  I’m just not willing to do any of it.

Here is what I will do.  I will pump up a temp basal.  I will estimate carbs and bolus.  I will keep an eye on my CGM graph.  But most of all, I will eat, drink and be merry.  I will have fun at holiday parties instead of worrying too much about what diabetes is doing.  It’s okay if I spike.  It’s okay if I go low.  It’s okay if things are a little off track.  It’s okay,  because it’s Christmas and I deserve to splurge a little and enjoy the season.  I may not get a true break from diabetes, but I’ve earned the right to loosen up a little and just have fun.  And THAT is my holiday strategy this year.

Hurts so Good . . . .

Over the weekend, Pete and I worked on reconfiguring our bedroom T.V. stand so it would be more functional and organized.  I needed to retrieve one of my big, lined baskets from the basement to hold the old VHS tapes we weren’t ready to part with.  Our basement is unfinished, meaning it’s a dimly lit space comprised of cinder blocks and spider webs.  This also means it has become the dumping ground for stuff we aren’t using right now, but will probably need in the future.  Like big, lined storage baskets.

I slid my sock-clad feet into the old pair of Crocs I keep at the top of the basement stairs and headed down to dig through the disorganized mess that is our cellar.  Just as Pete called “Be careful” behind me I felt a sharp pinch on the bottom of my foot.  I ignored it and dug out the basket and returned upstairs, feeling a pinch every few steps.  So I sat down on the bed, pulled off my sock and investigated.  I could feel a thin splinter sticking out of my heel, so I did what I always do in this situation.  I called Pete to come remove it for me.  (Disclosure:  I walk around in socks, or even bare feet, all the time.  So splinters in my feet happen every few months.  Not at all diabetes-recommended, but I'm being honest.)

Since whatever was in my foot was still mostly sticking out, it only took Pete a second or two to pull it out with tweezers.  Once he was done, he remarked “That was really thin!  I’m surprised you even felt it.”.  And to me, that’s a pain that hurts so good.  I may not know what was in my foot.  Maybe it was a stinger from a bug (but let’s say no because I hate to think my foot was in a shoe with an icky bug in it) or maybe it was a tiny splinter of wood.  In the end, whatever it was, it put my mind at ease.  Because after about 35 years with diabetes I can still feel the tiniest jab in my foot.

Awkward Moments . . . .

In my opinion, I’m one of the most awkward people around.  And I have diabetes, which is awkward in its own ways.  Misconceptions, being tethered to a medical device, lows and highs that mess with my head . . . .  diabetes is rife with awkward landmines.  And that’s the topic of my latest post over at The Loop.  Feel free to check out my most memorable awkward diabetes moments.

How about you?  Do you have any awkward diabetes moments you’d care to share?

** My Medtronic disclosure can be found here. **