Bolus . . . .

I’m really good at multi-tasking.  However, I’m not so good at functioning in a pre-caffeinated state.  Which explains why I ran into a bit of trouble while trying to simultaneously brew the coffee and feed the cat on a recent morning.  I suddenly needed a third hand, but luckily my husband was standing in the kitchen with me.

“Hold this?”  My request was met with a blank stare.

“HOLD THIS PLEASE!!”

As he reached out to take K.C.’s food dish, he commented “Your words say please but your tone says something else.”

“Because I asked for your help and you just stood there!!  I said 'hold this' and you just gave me a blank stare.”

“Oh.  (pause)  I thought you said 'bolus'.  I was waiting for you to tell me how many units to punch into your pump.”

Oops.  Maybe I’m not the only one who doesn’t do well in a pre-caffeinated state  . . .

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?

Check, Check, Check . . .

I recently interviewed for a job that would involve some travel, and I decided if I was hired I would apply for a Known Travelers Number for TSA Pre-Check.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get the job but I decided to apply for a KTN anyway.  Even without the job, I'll be flying at least three times this year alone (or six flights / trips through airport security) so it seemed worth it.

I wasn’t really sure what was involved, and as is my nature, I was very nervous.  But it was really easy.  First, I filled out the pre-application on-line and then booked my in-person appointment.  I’m happy to say that the staff at the Application Center could not have been nicer.  We simply went over the information I had submitted and they checked my passport.  Then they took my fingerprints electronically.  We laughed a bit when I admitted that I had expected ink pads and paper,  like in the ‘70s cop dramas.  Maybe I need to remember it’s 2016 and almost everything is done with computers these days.

Anyway, my clean, ink-free fingertips and I were finished in about  10 minutes or so.  Once I paid my $85 fee, I was given a receipt with an id number so I could check on-line and see where my status stood.  I was told I should see my KTN on-line in about a week and receive a confirmation in the mail in about a month.   For me, who is a total goodie two shoes, my KTN  was assigned by the following day!

Life with diabetes is full of hassles.  For me, spending the $85 for 5 years of TSA Pre-Check is well worth the (hopefully) reduction in travel hassles it will bring.  I’m excited to fly without being groped by a stranger first!

My Cure, Your Cure . . . .

If there is one thing I know for sure about diabetes, it’s that it isn’t one size fits all.  Some people do great on pumps, others flourish with MDIs.  Foods that spike me may not necessarily spike you.  I do best on Apridra, one of my friends does best on Humalog and another friend needs to use Novolog.  The list goes on, but it’s best summed up with the words of my wise friend Bennet, “Your Diabetes May Vary”.

Lately my Facebook feed has been filled with excitement over the progress being made toward encapsulating islet cells.  There were a flood of links to this article in particular and to other similar pieces.  Thrilling stuff, for sure, and I’m excited to see progress toward new treatment options.  But one word halts me every time I see the article.  And that word is “cure”.

Image Source

Encapsulation, for me, is not a cure.  My definition of a cure would be my body producing its own insulin again.  Encapsulated cells in my body producing insulin will hopefully be a fantastic step forward in treatment, but I would still think of myself as a person with diabetes.  It’s my understanding the device would need to be replaced periodically.  Therefore, I’d still need to undergo procedures and that isn't a cure in my mind.  And what if I had an allergy to the device, or for some other reason it needed to be removed?  I’d still have diabetes and I’d be right back where I am today.

Some people with diabetes may consider encapsulation devices to be a cure.  And that is their right.  But I wish the media wouldn’t toss that word around so frequently.  Because just like diabetes, Your Cure May Vary.

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?

Time Off . . . .

I love my d-technology.  I love that it helps me better manage my diabetes and makes my life easier.

Except when I don't.   Because to be honest, there are also times when my d-tech gets on my last damn nerve.  And it’s not really the fault of my devices.  But I guess it also isn’t really my fault either.  Being with anything 24/7 is bound to get annoying after a while.  (And I’m not just saying that because my husband has been home sick all week.  *wink wink*)  The beeping.  The constant stream of information.  They are helpful and important, but they can be a bit much sometimes too.  And then add in the skin irritations that can pop up.  The care that must be taken not to yank out sites and sensors when changing clothes or using the bathroom.  The fact than my cat always seems to sit on the exact spot where my transmitter is attached to me.  It all gets to be a bit much at times.

And so, when my CGM reached the end of its six day life last night, I decided to take some time off.  I think a week should do just fine.  Yes, I’ll need to test more often and be more aware of any high or low symptoms.  But it feels oddly freeing to be CGM-less right now.  Don’t get me wrong, I know how very fortunate I am to have access to a CGM and I know this is totally a first world (diabetes) problem.  And maybe I’m just a big old whiner.  But since I can’t take time off from diabetes, this feels like the next best thing.

Top of the Muffin to You!

I’m not making any New Years Resolutions this year.  Instead, I’m going to keep working on being postive and making 2016 a really great year.  Part of that is to continue my  journey to eliminate as many pre-packaged foods as I can from our diet.  I’ll keep trying to make as much as I can from scratch.  My favorite transformation carrying over from 2015 has been breakfast.  I had gotten accustomed to eating organic cereal bars because  they’re fast and easy.  And organic.  Which is nice, but they are also pre-packaged and therefore highly processed and packed with preservatives and other junk we probably just don’t need in our food.  So I though about what I could replace those cereal bars with, and my answer?  Home-made muffins.  (Unlike Elaine, I eat the bottoms as well as the tops.)



Muffins are quick and easy to make, and the varieties are endless.  Oatmeal muffins and banana nut muffins and cinnamon apple muffins (I skipped the topping on these to cut down on the sweetness).  And when I get a craving for those big grocery store muffins that used to be my favorite, a batch of these helps.



I’m starting my 2016 muffin journey by pulling out an old muffin cookbook I bought years ago.  It contains 100 muffin recipies and I plan to bake my way through it page by page.


The  nice thing about this cookbook is that the recipes are a bit healthier than the ones I’m finding on the web.  The author battles high cholesterol and her recipes reflect that.  I must admit, I do use whole eggs in place of the egg whites or egg substitute her recipes call for, but overall the muffins are still lower in fat and more healthy.

Small changes amount to big progress, right?  Here’s hoping!!

The Diaversary that Wasn’t . . . .

My diaversary (or the anniversary of my diabetes diagnosis) falls some time in December.  My hospital records are long gone and we’ve forgotten exactly which day I was rushed in and diagnosed, so I usually pick the middle of the month, December 15th, to mark the occasion.

This year makes 36 years I’ve lived with diabetes.  Pete and I usually celebrate.  We aren’t celebrating the fact that I have diabetes.  After all, although I firmly believe “life with diabetes isn’t all bad”, I most certainly would rather not have to live with this (or any) chronic illness.  But we still celebrate, to acknowledge how far I’ve come, how far treatments have come, how much work we put into keeping me healthy, and that I’m still here and (mostly) kicking diabetes’ butt.

So I had last Tuesday all planned out.  First I’d blog about my diaversary, which I do every year.  Then I’d head out of finish my Christmas shopping and stop at Crumbs for celebratory cupcakes.  And that evening, Pete wanted to take me out for a nice dinner.

None of that happened.  I woke up Tuesday feeling depressed by the weight of 36 years.  I was thankful to still be alive and healthy, but I hated everything about living with diabetes.  I didn’t have it in me to celebrate.  I didn’t even have it in me to leave the house.  I vented to a group of trusted friends in a private Facebook group (which helped a lot, so thank you!!).  And then I climbed back into bed to watch T.V. and snuggle K.C. (who was an overjoyed kitten loving the extra attention).

It kind of seems stupid and whiney now.  I don’t quite know what my problem was.  But on the other hand, diabetes can be so demanding and if I needed  a day to wallow I guess that’s okay.  By Friday I was ready to buy those cupcakes, but alas our Crumbs is closed again, apparently for good this time.  Oh well.  Pete wanted to reschedule our fancy dinner for a day that I’m feeling up for it, so we have plans to go tomorrow.  And who knows, maybe tomorrow is actually the day of my 36th diaversary.  But whether it is or isn’t, I want the dinner to be about Pete and I spending a nice evening together and not about 36 years of this chronic illness. 

This year, I guess I’m just not into my diaversary.   I just need the diaversary that wasn’t . . . . .