Harsh Pink: Color Me Stupid

You live with the consequences of your actions. Always. (Especially on holiday weekends)

















Checked my blood glucose probably 6 times in 3 days(really, really, not like me) ate
whenever/wherever everyone else was, took off my pump last night and woke up with a blood glucose of 501(purple ketones for that one) and I would say, wasn't very responsible. (at all) Many of the blood sugars were ok, but when I'd get high, I'd just bolus rather then take the time to check. Five positive ketostix in 3 days.
I was trying not to inconvenience anyone..(by stopping and fooling with D stuff) but as usual, it would convenience them even more when you get in trouble with highs. I've got to stop worrying about everyone else's feelings + pay enough attention to the D.
Ketones make me want to scream!
(its being high,cranky,and thirsty and those buggers don't clear out very easily either) I hate ketones.

We're Diabetic

For a little bit of good old fashioned D-pride, click here.

Rah, Rah.
(time to wear my "I run on Insulin" tshirt..:-)

The Jamestown Story (Part 2)

Part 2-because Sat. was a story unto itself. This is what happened on Sunday.

7:30 AM- After a "Let's-get-DKA-high" breakfast of waffles/syrup, yogurt, 3 glasses of oj(what can I say, I was thirsty) and the subsequent bolusing of 15 U Novolog(not enough), my fiance and I take off for the "Yellow" lot, where we'll catch a bus to Jamestown.

8:45 AM After driving aimlessly around a seemingly deserted Eastern State(mental facility, twin cousin to Western State(joint on my side of the state) we arrive at the Yellow Lot(an empty field). Still early, we're only the 4th line of cars. Directly ahead lies a fleet of school buses, from every district in the Richmond-VA beach area. It begins to drizzle, and its a relief to board the Newport News bus.

Our driver greets us with a cheery "Good morning!" as we file in and fill the seats.
3 minutes later, as we're going down the road, the driver makes an unexpected lurch into the left turn lane.(did I mention there were no seat belts on the buses?)

The guy of front of us frowns. "Hey, you need to go straight here."
"I do?"
"YES."
"I don't know, I'm not from the area and I'm just doin' what they tell me too."

The hair on the back of my neck prickles at the news. Not good, a driver who has no clue where we're going...

The guy in front, though, has the situation well under control. "I know where to go-just keep going straight."

Audible sigh of relief heard. (by 60+ inhabitants of bus)

10 minutes later, we arrive at the Jamestown Anniversary site and unboard, as Marines direct traffic and assist little old ladies off buses.
It's still sprinking, and a bone-piercing chilly wind is blowing, adding to the uncomfortableness of the situation. The security lines are very long,as every handbag/backpack/etc. is throughly searched.
Metal detecter. Gulp. Lambo JR. frequently sets them off, and that's really not something I need today...
But when it's my turn, I pass through(uneventfully).

It's 10:30 by then, so we head for the information booth to buy "Script", the official currency of the festival.














Buy lunch, and head over to the main stage, where various dignitaries are warmin' it up with the expected long wided speeches. State delegates. The Secretary of the Interior. Sandra Day O'Connor. (who has been famous since before I was born..talk about history!)

Suddenly, a pair of fighter jets scream overhead. (giving us all mild heart attacks)
















Finish lunch. The sun comes out, it quits raining. "Hail to the Chief" starts up, and we all stand up. (the sea of blue is the 10,000 member choir)














The governor is being quite cordial (remarkable, considering they're on opposite sides of the political spectrum)
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States!"

In the interest of PC, I won't delve into what he said, as you can (or did) read about it in the newspapers. Gave speech, directed the band for about 3 minutes which got a big laugh from the audience. Then the director of the festival, him/First Lady, 3 local kids stood around this Time Box and put some stuff into it(No telling what they put in-that's for tonight, boys and girls)and as the band still played, they left the stage. (followed by the dignitaries)

People begin pouring out of Festival Park, toward the Ship Area. One or two SS agents remained around the Secured Area, as the various helicopters took off. You could tell they were Secret Service from the microphone thingies in their ears(they didn't look like Men in Black). Having never seen a Secret Service agent in person, it gave me a weird weak feeling in the knees.

I'm feeling high(and thirsty). Meter reads a cranky 350, so I shoot 6 units(rather then worry about changing my infusion set(I'm way too busy for that). Combining that with walking around all afternoon should both take it down and take care of the basal
rate(I won't need much).. Get a diet pepsi. Head for the Ship Area.














Went on board the 2 larger ships. (the one was so tiny it barely could be called a ship...)














The Anchor(on the biggest ship):

















We then head over to the reconstructed Fort area.(not the actual site-that's being dug up)
Stop #1:














This was a canoe making demonstation- after the Indians had cut down a tree, they'd set a series of small fires of top of it(burning the inside out). Then, they'd use clam shells to scrape out the ash and shape the canoe. When the settlers showed up(with metal tools) the Indians just about went nuts with happyness(they're clam-scrapeing days were officially over). Pretty interesting.

Stop #2. (The Fort)

Splitting boards:
















How they amputated someone's limb:
(they were very good at this,the person lost less then 1/2 a pint of blood) The person had to stay in bed for awhile afterwords though.















Curing tobacco:
(Marlboro Light,anyone?)















A house:

















Various other things, we didn't have time to see it all. Went back to the Visitor Center where we caught a bus for the original site.At the original site, we viewed a short documentary on the graves they'd found, saw the reconstructed church, saw the
dig site,and stood in line for 1.5 hours for the artifact museum. By then, it was hot
and people were not in the best of moods. The Archiological president + someone else came around to cheer us up, pass out water + sunblock,tell us that it was well worth the wait, and apologize for it being so long. And to tell us stories of how the Queen of England(the week previously) could go all over the area in high heels(at 82, that's pretty good) but then again, the Queen of England didn't have to wait 90 minutes on a moderatly hot summer day. Blood sugar was dropping, so I set a temp basal of 0.0 for an hour and hoped it would stay stable.
We finally got to the museum, and I was low, there was still a line(it would have taken another hour to see the graves) so we did a quick walk around and got out of there so I could drink juice.(nothing was allowed in the museum,and I wasn't about to get kicked out after waiting all that time) Saw a few things of interest.(the graves were just the big attraction)

Got back on the bus, for Anniversary Park. It was after 6 pm by then, so we got some supper, hung around the main stage area.
At 7:30 pm, there was a play about the founding of Jamestown. Very well done.


8 PM- My cellphone and digital camera both die.

At 8:30 pm, Govornor Kaine reappeared for the grand finale- to tell everyone what the president had put in the Time Box(some cds,a cd player, and a power cord + some stuff from Queen Elizabeth) In 50 years- cd players might be obsolete...
Then the govornor,his wife and 3 kids put some more stuff in the Time Box.They told him just 1 thing, but being the govornor, he chose to ignore that advice.
#1 A Virginia Tech hat
#2 I forget..
#3 Happy Birthday helium balloon, which didn't quite fit and they had to really push + scrunch it in there.

The grand finale was the fireworks, which were beyond description (REALLY awesome). The Virginia Symphony Orchestra played the theme music(Star Wars, Stars and Stripes Forever, some other stuff) for 30 minutes and I wish I could have taken some pictures of them. They (the fireworks) were the best I've seen in 22 years. After that, we reboard the bus back to the Yellow Lot, the end to a perfect day. And the driver, knew where she was going.Getting out of there wasn't so bad, they really planned it out well.(with people being designated to park in a certain lot, it wasn't a traffic disaster for any certain area)

5 Months and Counting

I dreamed last night that my a1c was around 7 (only in my dreams, apparently). Fact is, I've had the paperwork labsheet sitting in my Too Urgently Do desk drawer for a full week now. After re-finding it, buried under a car mat post-doctor appointment. (it'd been there for over a week)

It also has a fasting cholesterol test, so I couldn't just quickly take care of it after work. Nope,its gotta be an early morning, fasting since midnight affair. As said lab is 30 minutes away and not open at 5:30 in the morning, the only day I can possibly do it is Saturday..They're open nice and early on Saturdays,7:30 AM.

My diet..quite frankly, hasn't been the best. People in love have much more important things to think about, then getting the RDA of the major food groups. But people in love, can't function(very long) off cheeseburgers and Diet Mountain Dew, so I'm going to try to start cooking veggies, eating fruits because that's what I'm supposed to be doing. My ring is being resized, it was about 1.5 sizes too large (my finger isn't "average") I only had it 2 days before I had to take it back in. It won't be back for two weeks. I miss it.
Cranky, cranky me... I'm dying to show everyone, but not just a pic. I've held off telling people at work, because I'm waiting for that ring.

At work the other day, our supivisor was asking us about special dietary needs for
the upcoming Ice Cream Social(June 1). Two of my coworkers, asked for no sugar ice cream and the supivisor looked around, asked "Anyone else?"
I look at the floor.
Everyone in the department looks at me, waiting for me to announce my request for no sugar ice cream.
I wasn't going to declare any such thing, this was my decision and none of their business. Aside from the fact, that I'm a type 1 and I take insulin for everything anyway.
"Heidi?" pipes up coworker #1.
I resume looking at the floor.
"Do you want it?" asks my supivisor.
"No."
"She'll eat it and end up on the floor," says coworker #2.
I shoot a glare in her direction.
"I work it off, thank you very much."
"No, you'll just shoot insulin for it."

At this point, I get really, really mad and decide to defend myself.

"Ah yes- you're the expert. I've had it 10 years and I more then know what I'm doing by now."

"Well, my mom had it. And h----, I don't care if you end up on the floor."

"If you don't care, why are you even talking about it?"

Coworker #2 is also very angry(at this point). Tells me something that I won't repeat. And I decide, that the ignorance/callous unfeeling of some people is just not worth it.I don't have to defend myself to this jerk, whose sole claim to Experthood lies in the fact that her mom had diabetes + probably died just to get away from her daughter.
They get diabetes, and sugar is forever Evil and shots are an excuse to be a bad diabetic, etc. So they don't take shots(though they need them), they don't eat sugar(instead, they eat all this high carb sugar free stuff) and they don't check their blood sugars and they think they're being good diabetics when in reality, that's the worst thing they can do for themselves. And they get complications, and wonder why.
I don't blame her, though I did spend several hours wishing she'd get type 1 diabetes and have a low, a bad one.(just so she'd learn that it's not eating enough, rather then overeating, that causes one to "end up on the floor." My job is very physical, and I do have to reduce boluses majorly sometimes. It did hurt though, being the topic of discussion in front of the entire dept. No one says anything,but its obvious that I'm the devil-may-care irresponsible bad diabetic.

Reason #145 why I'm glad to be leaving my job. I have good friends there, but when you've had a few lows on the job it forever fuels the rumor mill.
(5 Months and Counting...before I bid it adeau)

Ballad of a Beta Queen

Dream on, Dream on, Beta Queen
Weirdist girl we've ever seen

There's a story in our town
Of the weirdest girl around
Brunette hair, and a meter true
Which she'd use, to pitch at you.

People 'round her, liked her more
When she stayed out of the candy store
She'd get high, and cranky too
Getting high will make you blue.

She had glucose tabs to share
Pump so blue, an endo too
Not a care, this Beta Queen
(Not a care, this Beta Queen)

Dream on,Dream on, Beta Queen
Weirdest girl you've ever seen.

Though some guys would take her out
It was clear, they had their doubts
Diabetes was too real
They'd be getting too raw a deal.

Dream on, Dream on, Beta Queen
Better make some more ka-ching.

Then one day, she wrote a book
Publisher came, to take a look
Got the money, got the fame
Yet her life was still the same.

Dream on, Dream on, Beta Queen
Nothing's ever as it seems.

But the years, when passing by
Left this Beta Queen less shy
Diabetes lessons learned
Fewer times she would get burned.

Dream on, Dream on, Beta Queen
Maybe yet you'll get a ring.

Do I have to tell you more
She said yes to the boy from the shore..
And it's plain, they both adore.

















I've joined the ranks of engaged OC'rs... Yes, the weekend was all so
amazing + I'll be blogging about that but I had to tell you guys the most important news first!!!!!!!! It happened in a resteraunt in Williamsburg,(Sat.night) and I've still not come back to earth.

Stories

I just can't stop watching this... love the song, love Greys Anatomy, and it basically just "fits" right now..

If you spot an odd looking individual on your tv this weekend- it would be me, I'll be the Au Naturale Wrinkled One. No ironing.(unless I can convince my mom to do some of it)

Next up: Jamestown '07.
(400th Anniversary Weekend)

A Series of Unfortunate Events

Wednesday night, 8 pm. Party at my house.

All the cool kids were there.

My parents.

My oldest brother.

The rescue squad.

The fire department.

And various neighbors, trying unsuccessfully NOT to gawk out their windows.

And so, apperently, was I (though the entire thing is somewhat of a blur).

No- I wasn't low. Far from it. I'd been a rocksolid 130-170 for a full 5 hours. My D, was behaving amicably. No suppertime bolus hanging 'round, my basal ran 0.3 units/hour.(hardly major insulin reaction material)

One minute, I was ironing, the next, I was doing a carpet burn 5 feet away. Electricity coursed through my body, and I briefly passed out. When I came too,my heart was beating funkily + I was shaking like I was having El Majoro insulin reaction. I knew I'd better get to the phone before I passed out for real so I went to the living room, grabbed my cellphone, called my mom, checked my blood sugar(170- no surprise there) and she called 911 as I wasn't thinking too clearly by then.

My dad and brother arrived first, minutes later the rescue squad/fire department/my mom/ landlady's daughter.
Blood pressure was high- pulse very high and the squad wanted me to go in but I decided to wait it out, see if it got any worse. The primary reason for this didn't involve any great bravery on my part, its more like when your family is standing around with disapproval written all over their faces (like, its just a shock, get over it already) -short of unconsciousness, there's no way you can agree to go in. You'd much rather be dead, then hear the resulting dialogue from making a decision like that.
Seriously. Not that they don't care, they just think its overkill. And while the squad is doing their utmost to convince you that you should go in, you know that you shouldn't/can't + the reason for this, you can't really
communicate that to the medic,you can'b be honest. Sometimes family,isn't
a great asset in such a situation.

My dad took the iron(to have it checked out), it was a new one(not like I was standing in a puddle of water to invoke all that). And my mom stayed a few hours, till I felt somewhat human again, less shaky/dizzy enough to crawl back to bed.

Something that could have happened to anyone, but it'll be chalked up in the "Diabetic Girl going into Coma" book by certain neighbors.

I was going to call my doctor about it Thursday, to get checked out but my cellphone has died(completely), for good. Had a battery replaced 2 days ago and they said it'd gotten wet and if the replacement didn't work it wouldn't work. So I'll have to get a new phone. And if my mom/anyone else calls to check up on me, well, I won't be able to answer them. I will have to borrow someone's phone, in the meantime.

Thursday's dinner was awesome- as we dined on prime rib, baked potatos, brocculi goulash, steamed shrimp, salad, rolls, and strawberry shortcake. It was the One Million Safe Hours (worked, w/o any lost time) dinner, which they'd promised to us a month ago. To top it off, the coffee machines were on free vending and we got these interesting weird little cooler/chairs marking this momentous event. Sort of useless (when you sit on them, they collapse)- but something else to add to the yard sale pile. The rest of the prime rib/shrimp were given to the supivisors to take home, which didn't cause a great deal of wonderful feelings for those of us on the floor. Supivisors get all the good breaks.

Now I have a cold. 2nd one in a month- didn't have a single one all winter, and now that its spring they just keep crankin' on out! Between that and the residual effects of being shocked,I feel a little loopy this weekend. Not so sure it didn't rewire something in there.I will be calling the doctor on Monday.

Be sure to check out Diabetestalkfests poem contest-and to vote for the best...(next month).

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.