Dreamcatcher

Seconds tick, and the latest REM cycle begins, peaks, and dies, in the blink of an eye.
It creeps into the dream subtly,stealthily, this overwhelming urge. Not the usual food gorging, because that would signify
an impending reaction and the body's subsequent automatic kick-in, pulling one quickly back into the familiar safety of the real world. The brain knows when it needs sugar.

No, this urge is too slight to be noticed at first, especially if you're engrossed in your one humdinger of a dream. But like a hangnail, it grows on you and soon the dream has been overrun by this one thing. And then it hits you-crap, it isn't normal to be drinking so much fluid! and I'm not even full. So thirsty. A familiar thirst, and yet you can't quite place it.
(the fact that you've got diabetes and might be insanely high never occurs to you)
Like most horrible dreams, it goes on and on and on and on until you finally wake up, still thirsty + knowing full well what that probably means.
536 mg/dl.
(don't worry,this DIDN'T happen last night. I'm over it.)

Its odd how this stuff can creep into our dreams, but I wonder why the body doesn't wake up so much for highs. It certainly needs to. And how high do you need to be before it affects the dream? I don't dream about highs, when I'm in the 200's. One of those times I wish I had a CGMS.

Highs...just encourage that urge to sleep.

I must be a dreamcatcher- I dream about everything.
(I've also had some real humdinger of diabetes dreams, everything from being hounded by Secret Service Endos to being diabetic in an 1942 German concentration camp but that's a subject for another day) I don't mind dreaming about diabetes, as long as I'm not high or low. It can be quite interesting.

Pumpversary '07

I have this hangup about about communicating any sort of diastrous news.Especially not to my landlady. Stuff happens, but I don't want to tempt the fates(the housing situation around here is very tight).

Sunday night, went to bed around 8:30 + woke up at 11:30 for the final half hour bid countdown on a hot item that I really, really wanted. The price was right-and I was drooling in anticipation of sniping several(it was muliple item) in the last frantic minute of bidding. Wouldn't you know, my connection dies at 11:52 PM-and it took 10 minutes to get back to the auction. The cookies(or whatever) on Allison's blog sent my glucose intolerant PC into a Hypersmolar Coma + it froze up right then and there.
By the time I got back, the auction was very much over. Dead. Went back to bed, there goes Monday.

5:30 AM- Wake up-56 mg/dl.

At 6:30 AM, my plumbing system backs up into the shower so I clean up that mess, notify the landlady, call in a personal day + check my blood sugar again(now
265 mg/dl.) Open all the windows, trying to air the place out.

8 AM- Landlady calls, plumbers might or might not get out today. Not the end of the world, there's alternate facility options in town.(restaurunts, showers@ gym)
8:30 AM- 263. Bolus.
9:30 AM- 267. Change set.
10:30 AM- Brush teeth.

3 PM- Dentist appointment.

I arrive early, am duly ushered in, and have plenty of time to chill out on Novocaine while my dentist works wonders on the girl in the other room. Who, from the sound of things, was having a rougher time then I was about to have, being the proud owner of five new cavities, an impending root canal, and the eventual need for caps on every single one of her teeth.
I need to start drinking more water- I have a terrible addiction to soft drinks. That is why I'm in this chair in the first place. Diet Soda isn't as bad as Real Soda-or I'd probably have 5x as many, but the acid isn't good for your teeth.
Check blood sugar, as I want to know precisely what 2 shots of the big N has done to it. And whether it did it immeadietly- or has a strungout effect.(something I've never really been too observent of, in the past, I've just checked post-appointment. And been high.)
265. Of course. Must be all of it at once...Bolus 4 units.

"Ok Heidi," my dentist greets me,"ready to rock?"

"Heck yeah, lets get 'er done."

I don't dread making small talk with the dentist anymore- ever since I discovered that she's human too.And has a mouth full of fillings, despite religiously flossing/brushing/doing everything right.
Some people are just genetically wired to get them, according to her + now I don't feel quite as guilty.
And now I know why people become dentists in the first place, so they'll be able to pay for all the dental work they have to have done on themselves. It makes them more compassionate, I think, to know what their patients are going through.

One filling clamped, wired, and filed down. One cavity drilled + filled.

Post appointment blood sugar- 85. Darn, now I gotta drink something. Last time I tried that, I dribbled (like a two year old) red juice all over my shirt + had to cut the basal down and just ride it out. Novocaine is so interesting. But its not so bad today, as only one side of my mouth is still numb. Drink water, to try and reduce the effect of new sugary microbes on a spanking brand new filling. I don't like diabetes, and neither do my teeth.


Get home, and the plumbing is fixed(Yay!) despite the dire warnings of my landlady about what they had to do the last time this happened. (total pipe replacements) It appears Charmin toilet paper is the plumber's worst enemy when it comes to evil blockages, and I shouldn't use Charmin any more. Man. I don't even pay attention to what brand I get, I get whatevers the cheapest. Ok-I promise not to use Charmin, ever. As long as stuff goes (and stays) down the right pipes.

Gym workout. Blessed with a gorgous run of 100-130 blood sugars for the rest of the evening. You mean, I can actually do things right on occasion?!? that's surprising. Kind of like that first night pumping..all those years ago. Still no upgrade pump in my possession, but it will be soon, soon as I watch all that training stuff. Just got the email from Deltec.

New Toys

What happened last Monday devestated lives.
Individuals,families, institutions, a nation.
People came together, because in times like these,
you have to. You need support, and you need to carry
on.No one can deny that it happened, the evidence is
all too real.


What happened last Tuesday only impacted one life.
Mine.
And I can't talk about it, not even on my blog because
the denial is all too strong. I'm stuck on stage #1.
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

I don't know about others, but being diagnosed with
diabetes wasn't like that at all. I knew I had
something, and was frankly relieved that it wasn't
cancer or anything worse.Acceptance of diabetes was easy. My d-life
struggles, revolve around stage #2 and #4. Although I
suppose denial, can refer to more then just a
diagnosis, it can refer to practically anything about
diabetes. (stuff to do, complications,etc.)
When I get over the denial, I'll talk about it. Probably
too much- especially in the anger phase. I know you guys
have probably gone through this(in some degree) so you know what its
like. It takes time.Right
now though, I'd rather talk about happier subjects, like the three newest toys in my life.
(grown-ups like toys too..)

This is toy #1
(tis the season...for a brand new mower!)














Toy #2
(having been ipod-less since early March, I hardly know how to act...I love Apple customer service!)














Toy #3
(my new automatic wrist blood pressure thingie. I hate to admit it,but its sort of cool)

Today, we're all Hokies

Not Cavaliers. Not Rams.Not The Tribe.












Shooting

If it can happen there, it can happen anywhere. Blacksburg, Virginia- the agricultural
Mecca of the Southeast, and not generally a violent town(compared to others in the region).
Please keep the friends/families in your thoughts and prayers.

Dr. Jekyl and Miss Hyde

Into each life some rain must fall, some days must be dark and dreary-Emily Dickinson

I'm going to get a reputation as the blogger who will just not shut up about lows, that's for sure. But that's the current chapter in my life.

A D's Wish:

#1 When I shake, I need you to hold me.

#2 When I'm guzzling down fluids like I'm vacationing in Death Valley, I need you to pick up an extra 24 pack of Diet Coke at the grocery store.

#3 When I'm broke, I need a night in shining armour to chip in to cover medical supplies.

#4 When I sleep, I need to know that you'll make sure I wake up in the morning.

#5 When my a1c comes back smokin' awesome, I need someone to help me celebrate. (Someday,somehow..)

#6 When I cry, I need a shoulder to do it on.

#7 When I run, I need someone keeping pace beside me, all the way.

#8 When I eat, I need a non-judgemental human calculator, computing the carb-insulin-exercise-illness
ratio with the finesse of a nuclear physicist.

#9 When I test, and blood spurts sideways all over the computer keyboard, I need someone to see the humor in it all.

#10 And when I dream, I will dream of you..and know that a so/spouse would be one of the greatest gifts a PWD could ask for.

-----------------
The Insulin Challenge
(or, how low can you go)

Earned a brief reprieve over the weekend, got a cold + didn't see a number under 200. Till yesterday. They'rrree back. I guess I am fortuante,if it weren't for the cold it would be worse.

Everyone has rough patches in their D-journey but at some point, you've got to pick up the phone + ask the powers that be for advice.

The response was fast.Surprisingly fast.(Chalk one up for my endo!) One hour later:

"Tell me what's going on."

"I've got lows,neverending lows, they just won't quit.This has gone on 1.5 weeks."

"When are most of them?"

"Morning-afternoon. Cut my basal down."

"What is it?"

"0.05 from 11-5 pm. Lunch bolus usually 3-5 units."

A deep pause on the other end of the line. "That's really low-practically nothing."

"Used to be 0.3, but I was having lows that wouldn't stop so I cut it to that."

We discuss it, and agree on a plan of action. Cut lunch bolus in half, cut overnight basals down. Blood thyroid,kidney tests. Going from there, another appointment to come in.

Meanwhile, I check, keep my hypo stash on hand, and try to keep above water. I wonder where it is going-what's happening-and whether this is going to get me some stupid new diagnosis that I do not want. I wonder what kind of shape you have to be in before the insurance company would spring for a CGMS. And I wonder if its time to give up a portion of my fierce independance(aka ask someone to check up on me)so I don't die in bed. This not the time for pride. There is no night in shining armour, and I must lessen those sources of stress in other practical ways.I'll make it through but I wish it weren't so scary.

The A&P of a Low

Ask the average pumper why they love their pump, and the answers come thick and fast.

1. The ability to look like a VIP, anytime, anywhere. "Sorry man, gotta go-my beep's going off."
2. The ability to STOP a low blood sugar in its tracks-simply program in a 0.0 basal, and insulin will no longer be coursing through your bloodstream, resisting the futile onslaught of a simple carbohydrate overload.
3. Membership in the "Club."
"You pump? Cool, how long?"
"Six years, dude. Back when I started,they freakin' admitted you to the hospital."
4. A greater acceptance of diabetes. You'll never be happy happy joy joy about it, but the pump is one of the better aspects of the disease.
5. One more electronic device to keep track of, along with cellphone/pump/meter/DS/pager/whatever else.
6. The ability to exactly pinpoint basal/bolus needs-completely impossible on shots.
7. Spontainiality- sleep late, run a marathon, eat like a pig!
8. Another excuse to throw thousands of $$'s at the disease-all those supplies add up.
9. A few less pricks..
10. Something to keep you company in the wee hours of the morning.

Ask me why I love my pump, and I'll tell you one thing:
Commitment. It & me- we're a team, out to manage diabetes
as best as possible.(for better and for worse, till death(or a cure)
do us part.

Sometimes, there is no "managing" diabetes. Take this week,when every night I have skyrocketed 100+ points and every afternoon, dropping like a rock. Current basal requirements look something like this:
12-7 AM 1.2 (usually 0.6)
7-12 PM 0.3 (regular)
12-5 pm 0.05 (0.3)
5-9 pm 0.4 (regular)
9-12 AM 0.6 (regular)
Afternoons are like being cured..and nights are like pumping cortisone. Weird.

----------------------
A few weeks ago, my video ipod met an unfortuanate demise(Diet Coke vs Ipod) and shorted out.I'm not ready to commit it to the garbage bin quite yet, I want to make sure it can't be fixed.(those suckers aren't cheap) So it looks like I'll be taking a trip to an Apple store, and as there are a grand total of FOUR stores in the entire state(3 of them in the DC area) that trip will be to Northern VA. I wanted to coincide it w/an ADA Expo, but there won't be any this year.(which isn't fair- the ADA HQ are in Arlington, and they can't even do a DC Expo?) The cherry blossoms are also out, and I wanted to see all that too. I've got a 5 day(starting tomarrow) weekend- this is the perfect time to do it all.

Her Code Name Was: The Hypogal

Once upon a time, there lived a girl,a chronic disease, and an insulin pump.

This girl, who did not exemplify a model patient in any sense of the word(despite a recent 0.7 drop in the a1c, whoo hoo!) was especially hard-headed about wearing bodily identification proclaiming an association, however loosely, with that chronic disease. Most of the time, it didn't matter who did, and did not, know. The important people all knew.

One beautiful spring day, as the girl dashed about town doing errands, she pulled into the gas station to top up the o'le tank. After she had finished pumping, she felt the familiar exotic buzz of the legs turning to jelly, signifying an impending reaction. A quick quick of the blood glucose confirmed that to be the case. Predictably, no fast-acting carbohydrate was in the vehicle so she went inside the gas station to buy something. Deciding on a sugar-ish drink that didn't quite taste as disgusting as coke, she picked several bottles up and headed to the counter to pay for it.

"Something wrong?" asked the kid behind the counter.
The girl, confused, set the bottle back down. Did something look wrong?
"What?"
"Something wrong with it? You're looking at it kind of funny."
"No, I'm just looking at the nutritional information."

The kid laughs. "Not much, I'm afraid."
(mental slap of forehead, great response there..)

The girl went back out to her vehicle, drank some of the Vault. Reaction got worse. Meanwhile, she was being closely watched by security's white Toyota Cruiser,
and after about 10-15 minutes they pulled up beside her + motioned for the window to be rolled down.

"Maam, is your vehicle broken down? would you like to call someone?"

"No, I'm having a diabetic moment."

Security looked askance, and quickly backed away. It must be something they do not do, get involved with diabetics having weird spells.The girl drank the rest of the Vault bottle.
This reaction wasn't going away anytime soon.

The shriek of sirens/flash of lights from across the street brought the girl to (what was left of)her senses- crap, did they call out the cop-paramedic brigade on her?
She panicked, started the car, and drove 10 feet to the curb.

10 minutes passed, then 20. Finished 2nd bottle of Vault, the adrenaline shot the blood sugar up (temporarily) to 200's. Ate a sandwich- bolused VERY lightly.(1 unit)

2 hours after treatment #1, the girl's blood sugar was back to normal + she had learned an important lesson.Some people just don't care one way or the other about your medical problems, what matters is if you're impending the revenue flow. Really restores one's faith in humanity. It's not that they should have called for help(obviously, I wasn't passed out yet) it's that they didn't even ask me if I'd be ok, or checked later on. (they didn't care) As I wasn't thinking all that clearly myself, to be able to express myself.One needs all the backup they can get.

She wears that ID now.

The End.

Doctor Office Shenanigans

(warning: Rated...don't let your kids watch this!)




Try this the next time you're waiting for your endo.. Funny, between the Socks + Shoes Sign and the thyroid models, I feel right at home!

10 Things on a Tuesday

#1 Had f/u appointment with eye doctor, that went ok.Seems a portion of my vision has reverted back to funky(but it is better then completely funky), and the incision is healing well. And yeah, you can still see the black blob of stitches, those should be absorbed sometime in the next month. With this type of surgery,sometimes you just take what you can get + the eye doc isn't going back in. The surgery corrected 3/4 of the double vision.(which is nice) On the wall of the exam room, there was a framed cross stitch for one of the eye docs.(The Retinopathy guru) That was kind of interesting- perhaps one of his patients was so grateful that he'd saved their vision that they made him that. Another f/u in 3 months. I won't have to have a dilated exam in awhile..as he'd done that(sometimes w/all the drops they put in, its difficult to tell what they're doing)


#2 Marched on down to the cafeteria, where I devoured my very healthy Caesar salad w/no fat dressing + low fat milk. They didn't have any other choices, or you'd have bet I'd chosen them.(like chocolate milk + artery clogging Ranch)Stupid hospital food.

#3 Flirted with the parking garage attandent. (not to worry, he's got grandkids)

#4 Drove across town to the endo's office, where I demanded my a1c results as it's been a month + anyone has yet to call me back/send it in the mail...Nurse promises she'll discuss it today w/my endo,even if she has to spend all day on the intercom.
How am I supposed to work on that a1c,if I don't even know what it is?

#5 Drove to Walmart(oil exchange) + groceries.


Five Things I need to get done today:
- Post office(supply pickup,mail stuff)
- Fax Deltec upgrade + other needed pump stuff to Endocrine(she's gonna hate me, when she gets finished with all of that..)
- Pour Drano down my kitchen sink, and hope that it works(not come bubbling up the garbage disposal)or the landlady will not be happy.
- Continue watching Northern Exposure, Season 6..
- Go to the gym. It's been a solid week, since I've last been. (lazy, lazy me)

Compact vs. Ultra

It was awesome.
It was amazing.
It was about to rock my teenage world.

So, when the CDE handed me an One Touch Ultra,
promising me I'd love it, I took her word for it +
tried it out. After all- it was the era of change, and
I wasn't particularly emotionally attached to my brick
of an AccuChek.
5,4,3,2,1. Whoo Baby, I'm sold. Have 508, have latest
meter-I'm going places.

6 years later,I've pretty much stuck w/my Ultra +
Ultrasmart, tried the Freestyle(and the Cozmo
attachment), but my insurance company doesn't cover
those strips(at all) + I figure, it's not really a
battle worth fighting. I like my Ultras,+ I'm lucky to
have good coverage on them.
Even if I won the (Freestyle strip)appeal, the out of
network copay would still be too expensive for me to
afford..

I've heard of the Accuchek Compact, when I saw a deal
at the local drugstore, I bought it. Yeah, I know
you're NOT supposed to spend any money on a meter but
I'll get the $10 back anyway(mail in rebate). And it
comes with 17 strips. (check out retail strip prices-
+ this is actually cheap...)

Will it be big?
Will it be bulky?
Will it be a blood sucking vampire from the Black
Lagoon?
Will the bg values correlate well to my Ultrasmart?

Check it out:















Not much bigger then an Ultrasmart.(Although, you can't tell that from the picture)

The size of the strips:
(Compact versus Ultra)















And the stabber isn't bad at all- I was able to get a
big enough drop out of the 2nd depth setting. It takes
about half as much blood as the Ultra.

On the back, there's a test strip counter(showing how
many strips are left in that particular drum):















I think this might be a good "work" meter, I'm always
forgetting my lancet device/and/or/strips. All you
have to remember is the meter,and maybe a backup drum
of strips(if the counter is running low that day).
Very convenient.

Ultra vs. Compact:

119 mg/dl- Compact


123 mg/dl- Ultra

On Ebay, strip deals abound, and these are cheaper then many
(100 for under $30) cost wise, it's defiantly a keeper.
Although I am not totally ditching my Ultra, the
Compact may yet find a spot in my heart. This thing is EASY- you just push a button, the strip pops out/meter turns on, you stab your finger, hold it up to the strip + 8 seconds later, there's your reading. Punch the button again-and the strip pops out/meter turns off.

My YouTube attempt

My Time Warp

It was 12 PM all day, according to the work clock.They hadn't switched the time yet, and then the battery died. Highly disconcerting when you just want the day to end..

Straight out of "Scrubs"
(aka "My Monday")

3 AM- Wake up hypo, devour pre-Easter candy, fall back asleep.
5:30 AM-296. Not surprisingly, bolus correction
6:30 AM- 25 carbs(really a light breakfast, all things considered. Bolus for that)
7:30 AM- I'm parched. If I had to guess, I'd say that my blood sugar must be in the upper 400's..but that's impossible, I just bolused for everything. 3 cans of Diet Coke later..
8:30 AM-280. Well, that partially explains it, although I'm not generally this thirsty on a 200's number.
9:30 AM- Rolling nausea, figure my set is probably toast and I should check for ketones. Eat light snack.
9:15 AM- Hypo time. Eat another snack, take light bolus.
10:00 AM- 200. Still feel low. My meter must be lying to me today.
10:30 AM- Supivisor tells me to go to another dept.
11 AM- Get settled in to other dept., commence work.
11:30 AM- Another hypo. AuGggHHHHHHHHHH. Package of yogurt raisens down the hatch.
11:50 AM- Lunch.
Meanwhile, my new coworker is taking bathroom breaks on the half hour, and stays there 10-20 minutes each time so not a great deal is getting done on our end of things. This is because of a hangover, he'd already vomitted in one of the department's trash cans. Supivisor told him that if he goes to the bathroom one more time, he'll have to go home(its been going on all morning.)
So what does he do?
Yep, parks himself right in front of trashcan #2, not 10 feet away from where I'm working, and commences upchucking-going back to work-going back to the trashcan.
Right in front of everyone.
I've had enough of that, I'm just doing most of his job anyway + the department is quickly filled w/the lovely aroma of alcoholic vomit. I inform the supivisor, and the supivisor tells the guy to go home.
Since things still smell pretty aweful, I move to the opposite side of the dept. to try and get away from the smell.
Final Blood Sugar of the Day:
497.
Yay, me.Skip supper,change set, crash into bed.
-------------
I'm going to call about my a1c results, they still haven't gotten here + I figure the week couldn't be any worse anyway.
Today's Agenda:
Dentist.
At least it's a balmy 70 degrees outside.

Breaking the Silence

Youtube has alot of whacko D videos, but there are some pretty interesting/informative ones on there.

I'm in the mood for Blog(ging)

Computer update: Still on the fritz, I think it's due to a virus. My computer is so buggy(and slow) it's only a matter of time before it dies entirely.

7 things to do before I die:

#1 Get an a1c under 7.
#2 Finish up my RN degree.
#3 Travel the world- go scuba diving off Australia, skiing in the Alps, and mosquito-slapping in the Amazon.
#4 Finish my book.
#5 Find the right guy..get married, have 2-3 kids. (or more)
#6 Donate blood 100+ times.
#7 Be a contestant on Jeopardy. Man, I would so love to be on there...

7 things I CANNOT do:

#1 Cook
#2 Be organized.
#3 Disregard moral views, for the sake of anyone. Not even for a cure.
#4 Understand why supposidly wonderful parents smoke around their kids.
#5 Enjoy minus zero degree temperatures.
#6 Stop wishing for a cure.
#7 Play basketball, I'm just too short.


7 things that attract me to men:

#1 All men(present company excluded) are scum, and I'd rather not discuss the 7 most important(nonexistent) qualities at the moment. Or perhaps its the fact that I must be the anti-thesis(whatever)
to those 7 most important characteristics.

7 things I say:
#1 Alrighty, then.
#2 Hey you!
#3 Oh puh-lease.
#4 Been there, done that.
#5 Way to go.
#6 Do I look stupid?
#7 Crud.

7 Books that I recommend:
#1 Whatever you want, it's fine with me. I haven't read 7 books in the past year- I'm not much of a reader.
7 Movies that I like:
#1 The Sound of Music
#2 Ladder 49
#3 Cars
#4 Flightplan
#5 Catch Me if you Can
#6 The Notebook
#7 Yours, Mine, and Ours
------------------------------------------------


SUPPORT THE FAIRTAX! (the only way we'll be able to pay for SS and the rest of those 'essential' government programs)

Destination: Weekend

Eight Tips to Appearing on TV

(inspired by the D-life Nose-Picker Episode)
#1. Don't pick your nose. Seriously. A million people are watching you, even if you're in the studio audience + think no one could possibly be videocamering you. IT WILL COME BACK TO HAUNT YOU.
#2 And if you do pick your nose, do so in a delicate manner. Use a tissue, and make it appear as if you are just blowing your snozz, not digging it.
#3 Don't faint.This is easier (to do)then you may realize, and at times you will feel like there is no possible way that you're going to survive a minute longer. Take a deep breath, smile, and relax. Nothing lasts forever. If you faint, the first thing you'll be hearing is "Are you LOW?"
#4 Make sure you get the ok from a responsible adult, before you inflict your clothing choices on the tender eyes of a waiting nation. You may think you look like hot stuff-meanwhile, by the end of the night, your family has completely disowned you.
#5 Do not snort, guffaw, burp, wheeze, or make any other disgusting body sounds. (at least not when the camera is on you.)
#6 Do not say UHHHHHH. This does not sound intelligent, and does not convince anyone that you deserve to be up there. (this also goes for radio, from personal experience)
#7 Keep talking, even if you have nothing more(on the subject) to say.Bluffing always works.
#8 Do not, if you check your blood sugar on tv, suck the blood off your finger. Most non-D people will vomit, and even some PWD's might be shell shocked.
----------------
It's been an interesting week, my computer has some serious problems.(attempting to sign in to my gmail account, the page keeps refreshing in an endless loop) WHY???(please help me, computers are not my forte) Hence, I am writing this at the library.
And on the Ebay front, I have had it with one of my buyers, went and left negative feedback. For doing this,I am (no doubt) a nasty,horrible, non-understanding person. This makes the 3rd negative feedback I've ever left, (in 7 years) I am usually fairly understanding about these things + don't wish to scar another's FB reputation. I would want someone to do the same for me.
1 month.
2 invoices + 5 emails.
No response from buyer.
File NPB(non-paying bidder) report.
1 week.
Buyer emails that they'll pay me soon.
Respond, ok. 5 days.
Email buyer.
4 days.
No response. Give up, leave negative feedback. I've had it with this guy.
Buyer sends payment that evening. WHATTTT? Now I feel somewhat guilty, as I just neg'd him. Annoyed, because this is just too draining + he's saying he never even knew he won the auction. Refund payment.I'm not dealing with this.
2 days later... Buyer emails, asks for item(gift certificate code). Says he payed.
Email buyer-inform him that payment was returned, check email(s) for reason why.
Close NPB dispute. Now I'm thinking that I may have been a bit too rough on someone who obviously is not the sharpest knife in the drawer.(doesn't check email,paypal,or My Ebay..hmmm) Either that,or he has a good reason for lying. He had a good fb record(short as it was)till it came to this transaction. If he negs me, it would be highly unbelievable as I've got a perfect record + have been around much longer then he has. Ahh, the joys.
The research study check finally came(at just the right time, dude,I thought I'd have to take a trip to Turkey + sell a kidney) I'm pretty happy about that. It's nice when stuff actually
comes on time.
On Monday, my first intelligent action of the day was to break off a windshield wiper on the ice-so I can't go anywhere till it quits raining. Highly inconvenient.(supposed to be a nice weekend,though) I also set fire to my breakfast (in the microwave), and dropped a 30 lb.wooden pallet on my right foot so it was a fairly disastrous day.
Today was pretty interesting- I got to see someone giving just plasma. (at the blood donor center) It looked like a regular IV bag of fluids. (plasma is the clear, watery part of the blood) Plasma, unlike other blood components, can be frozen/saved for up to a year (for use in vaccines,etc.) so its pretty unusual stuff. Their donation took awhile, though(more then the 30 minutes I was there). PWD's aren't allowed to give anything except whole blood(believe me,I've asked) something about reduced immunity + the IV dextrose they give(for one of those special donations). Such is the policy at that blood center. So I just gave #32, and watched them. I guess whole blood donations are enough of a challenge, they could be right(who knows how taking specialized components might screw up a PWD) . Oh well.
Have a great weekend, everyone.

Purple Top

Psst. Hey, you.

Yeah, you. 3rd from the bottom, over 2.

This is your ex-speaking. I know we haven't been on real good terms lately, but I could never
dump you entirely. Every day, I still hope for the impossible. You were such a big part of me.
And for one magical day, you were at your best and I was a star.

I have just one small request...

Could you pleazzzzzzzzzzze come back under 8? That isn't asking for much. And it would
make me more motivated to reach my OC Goal.

My endo has hope, says that one bad patch won't necessarily screw up any chances of that
happening. But I look at the logbook, and can only hope that the number of lows will cancel out
the number of highs + it won't come back worse then last time.

But if that doesn't happen...

I need a plan. A plan to aggressively treat those highs. A plan to NOT spend overnight in the 200's.(as Scott pointed out, that's a third of the day right there) And accountability to someone, checking in numbers ever so often. And lastly, I need to be changing my infusion set every 3 days, not 6. That might help.

So Purple Top, if you do your job, I'll do mine. I promise.

The Dark Side

Deep, dreamless sleep.
Abrupt ascent back towards reality...
I was thinking about oxygen,and it's over already?

"You're awake,c'mon, let's get a sugar."
Darn. How do they always know?
Can't a person catch a few more ZZ's?
Ok, 357. Infusion set is probably dead,
as I bolused a correction prior to surgery.
Request 5 units IV,
which isn't a major deal(Anesthesiologist quickly approves)

I'll never join the dark side, never!!!!!
"It is your destiny- especially if you keep running blood sugars like that,"
Darth Surgeon drily remarks.
I want to say something, like shut up you idiot..I just had surgery, what do you expect?
but I think my (listening)parent would be overly shocked/horrified if I said that. Besides, it's not nice to insult the person who just did surgery on you, even if it's true.
Open eye. "Surgery isn't exactly conducive to normal blood sugars, you know."
That was ok, just the right touch of overt sarcasm mixed with the stinging overlay of truth. And really not that rude, either...
"Yes, but if you go on like that, etc...."
I've heard enough, time to tune out. Close eye. Everyone's an expert in Endocrinology. If
you think you can do better, you're more then welcome to get a pancreotomy and see what
a total joyride diabetes is.

4 PM-Clinic time, time for the grand ripping off of the patch.
And, wow. Never seen that before, door and wall melt into one fantastic 3-D image. The door is covering the entire wall-yet it is on top of it. I was expecting something of the sort, so its not overly freaky.
"Ok, we've got that wayyy overcorrected, I see." Adjust a few stitches.

Things are looking straight again. Stagger off for an eye test, just to make sure things are good before the surgeon cuts the stitches. Pass eye test. Come out of test room, fall face first onto carpet. Maybe its the anesthesia that's making me so loopy, but stuff is periodically doubling every few feet + I'm not used to this. I'm ok, just dizzy. Get transported to exam room + scowling resident checks my blood pressure. "You're fine." I don't think he enjoys checking blood pressures.
Surgeon comes back in. Resident holds me down, while surgeon sets to work adjusting the stitches. The drops + tears flood down my face, run down the back of my throat, numbing my tongue, while it's tie, snip, and adjust to the perfect specifications. Cataract surgery was such a cakewalk, this is so differant. Surgeon says stuff might still double off/and on for the next few days, thats normal.
Geez. It's finally over. Finally, finally over. Eye is doing ok, the last of the anesthestics have exited my system + my blood sugars are (kind of)back on earth. I wasn't back to work the day after,though. I need to wear sunglasses-coworkers have been asking me A. who beat me up and B. do I have pinkeye. It isn't looking too pretty yet.
And why do Endocrine appointments always seem to fall on highly atypical blood sugar weeks?
(Either you've got really awesome #'s, or everything is complete crud + you're asking yourself where the heck you begin with it all..)
I don't wanna go, but I guess I gotta.

Presidential (Day) Treatment

Early Afternoon....
Caller ID: Unknown flashes across the screen, but I know exactly who's calling, and that I'll have to call them back ASAP.(whether I want to or not) At least they waited till a respectible time, not during the church service, so there won't be any prompted jokes about phone calls from Heaven later on.

"Hi, it's X, checking back about the message you left."

"6 AM-Surgical Family Suites, nothing to eat after midnight. You're his first patient of the day."

Surgical Family Suites, what an utterly stupid name for the most unromantic of places. It's raw guts and blood, not flowers, champeigne, and nurses dabbing at your fevered brow(whensoever you wish it)

But on the plus side, diabetes has, once again, secured the coveted
lets-just-get-this-over-with-NOW spot in line. Even if I'm not on shots. Even if I'm perfectly able to adjust basal rates + keep things in check.

I'm of the opinion, that 99% of surgeries should be spur of the moment decisions, so that one doesn't have the time to obsessivly worry about it. The longer you have to think about it, the less likely you are to go through with it.. We've talked about it. And talked about it. And talked about it some more. We've been discussing it for over 2 years.And I'm still not sure I'm going to go through with it.

Because its my eye. And the consent form you sign, lists every known complication in the book. Anything could happen. But to be able to back up a car, judge periphial blobs, and to know the differance between a D thing versus weird eye thing would be great. (weird eye thing is NOT diabetes related)

When I am very nervous, I can only do two things...

Clean:

Cook + Eat:

Perhaps it all makes up for post-surgery, when all you want to do is sleep. Hopefully, I will be back to work the next day, but it depends on whether they can get it right the first time + not have to reoperate.

------------------
Just a reminder.. Tues, Feb. 20 is International Pancake Day. Go to IHOP, and score a free shortstack. (if you're so inclined)

We Didn't Start the Fire(revised)

Nicole Johnson, Gary Hall, Endo Conferance in Krakow

Banting, Best, and Collins too-Got my D News from The View

Sutherland, Elvis P, All the news at CWD

Atkins, cals, and carb counting; Elliott Yamin sure can sing

Brett Michals, Team Type 1 ; A women’s work is never done

Ketostix, DKA- that is all I did today!

Glucose tabs, jelly beans, Holy Cow I’m hypoing

Glucagon +vomitting, Wish I understood this thing

Dextrose drip, needles, pain; yeah by now I’m quite insane...

ADA , BGAT, BMI (you’re way too fat)

Terroism all the time; syringes on an airline

Panic Room, ER, Check before you drive your car

NPH, urine test, Now we’ve got the very best

Marathons and Ironmen, alcohol and even gin

Lantus, Novo, CGM- Let’s go workout at the gym

Resolutions in the air, C’mon take the OC Dare!

We didn't start the fire

It just started burning

And our world's been churning

We didn’t start the fire

No we didn't light it

But we sure do fight it.

A1cs go over 8, Complications crowd your plate

Joslin, juice, a future mate; diabetes on a date

"Forecast" in ‘48, Diagnosed in ‘98

Wishin’ I could wipe this slate; till it becomes too late!

Ebay, spark of sunshine in your day

Marriage, love and kids too- don’t let "D" define you

On my honor, Dead in Bed, R is for the color Red

Quilt for Life, jobs + more, diabetes is a chore

Wish I had a million bucks, help to pay for all this stuff!

Basal rates, bolusing, meters really aren’t my thing

Test strips flying everywhere; here’s some coke, I wanna share..

Drama in the workplace, curious about blood’s taste..

Insulin (the golden Key)

Cataracts, surgery; glasses aren’t enough for me

Floaters, bleeds, Retin-o-P

Drops and doctors tinkering, Now my kidneys go ka-ching..

We didn’t start the fire

No, we didn’t light it, but we sure did fight it

We didn’t start the fire

But when we’re gone

will it still go on, and on, and on, and on..

(till there’s a cure?)

Pizza for V-Day

(No, this isn't a romantic post. Not even close..sigh. So if you were expecting one, I apologize.)

My car sat in the driveway, encased in two solid inches of sheetrock ice. This wouldn't be so bad if the temperature were higher...but at 10 degrees, any water I might use to thaw things out would likely freeze, not melt, the ice.
One lovely, frozen blob.
I didn't have 2 hours to make a decision, I had exactly one hour to make it to work, and the state of the roads were likely trecherous anyway. So I bundled up, slipped on my bright green(hidiously ugly) safety vest, and waddled out for the early morning workout. The roads were just as bad as I'd assumed they'd be.
30 minutes later, I arrived at work, sweating profusely despite the frigid temperatures. About 50 other people made it in...this out of 800. Much to my dissapointment, the walk didn't budge my high bg one iota so I still had to bolus extra.
Ah, work. They've only closed their doors once in 22 years of operation, and that only because the state police came in and made them do it. (there was 2 feet of water outside) State of emergencies hardly matter to them.
Anyway, they gave us a big pizza party at lunch...for being such dedicated little employees, and that was good. Almost made it worth it.
Coworker gave me a ride home, so I didn't have to walk back. Went to work on my car, discovered that the state inspection expired in Jan. (I probably wouldn't have noticed that till March, otherwise), freaked a bit, but because the vast majority of my vehicle is still covered in ice, I doubt the cops will notice(and I can get it taken care of quickly).
Happy V-day,everyone.