Because

Because we seek control, we mutilate our fingers 10 or more(or less) times a day and insert sharp objects into our skin to deliver medication. This may be the 21st century, so is still so much that is archaic about this disease. (like peeing on a test strip)

Because we seek control, a "perfect pregnancy" not only exists, it must exist. The challenges of a normal pregnancy with all the fun of diabetes thrown in. Mentally worrying over every high; every slip up is not only bad for you, its potentially disastrous to the little one you're carrying.

Because we seek control, yearly visits to the eye doc to have painful dilation drops and(potentially) lasers beaming up the the bad vessels in our eyes is the gold standard of good care.

Because we seek control, our exercise routines consist of eating twice as many calories as we burn off, in the attempt to prevent low blood sugars.(or treating them)

Because we seek control, we're up at 3 AM, dealing with a high or low blood sugar.

Because we seek control, a new pair of shoes is judged mainly on it's ability to not cause calluses/infection/subsequent amputations, not it's visible appeal.

Because we seek control, a hospitalization is not the time to turn over your D-care to the experts because most of the time, the experts know even less then you and you'll be even sicker if you did it their way.(Except if your endo is on staff and even then they ignore her orders)

Because we seek control, the "stackable" bolus that we took at 10,12, and 2 has just now hit the fan and we're tanking like a rock and have to start eating again.

Because we seek control, we trust our lives to a liquid that loses potency out of a very delicate temperature range. Freeze or bake, (it's toast) you're toast.

Because we seek control, exercise is twice as important to us then to the non-diabetic. Keeping the bg down, keeping the heart healthy- heart disease is the highest morbidity for the D and you don't have to be old to have a heart attack. You just have to be D.(according to the medical profession)

Because we seek control, we're forced to ride out huge chunks of time in the 80-100 mg/dl spot and be as cranky as heck that we can't overeat and end this feeling of hyponess. Or at least I do. Not that it isn't an excellent bg range, its just when you're used to much higher it makes you feel fairly irratable.

Because we seek control, we drive great distances in search of the perfect endocrinologist.

Because we seek control, denial isn't just a River in Egypt- it's a one-way ticket to Complications City.

Because we seek control, we spend hours of our free time glued to the internet in search of information and support.

Because we seek control, we're a little OCD about the type of meter we use and if it's not the right kind we don't really "trust" it.

Because we seek control, it's not just physical control we must achieve, it's also mental. Not responding in anger to the idiot who asks "Should you be eating that?" is often difficult, if not impossible. Unfortunately, it is an occurrence that will repeat itself thousands of times throughout the life of a PWD and one that you'd suppose you'd eventually get used to and a pro at handling.

Because we seek control, no a1c is truly low enough and if you're over 8, you'd rather not discuss it, especially if the rest of the blog-o-sphere is under 7.

Because we seek control, we chose salad over fries-making the choice not only for ourselves but for the loved ones who want us around a little longer.

Because we seek control, we realize that the state of medical care available today is abysmal for many people and something had better change or we'll all end up with type 2 diabetes, complications galore, and no one to care for anybody.

Because we seek control, sometimes we have to ditch the books(and the subsequent studying for the horrendous test the next day) to go the pump club meeting. We need to know that we are not alone.

Because we seek control, we realize that perfect control really doesn't exist + all we can do is our best. To live, to laugh, and to love-to stick it to the D. Whatever your philosophy, life is a journey, realizing that the D is part of it but not all of it and not something that should own you.

The House of Horrors

Me thinks this has great money-making potential-a night in the Lincoln Bedroom.(that's a man-eating Christmas cactus in the pot...and you've got your fat cats to jump up on the bed in the middle of the night) As an extra bonus, the guest would be treated to the occasional treat of a hypoglycemic wild-eyed crazy person clomping down the stairs at 3 AM on their way to the refrigerator. (yes, I probably look like a ghost at that hour) The only drawback: our house isn't White...

On a Friday Streak

On my way out the door this morning, my pump tubing got caught. This was a first- in terms of that this door was the front door and I'd already locked it. I had to leave the pump there, go get my keys from the car, and unlock the door. I wasn't wearing the pump, I've had alot of extreme sensitivity nights and last night I just took it off, it was so impossible to get my blood sugars up. Suffice to say, not a great idea- I still needed some insulin. Fell asleep, woke up high, took a slight bolus and took the pump back off. Woke up 150. Off I went to the infusion center, to get my magnesium infusion and I bolus for breakfast. Dexcom shows a steady trend up to 210,(at the time of bolus)I don't correct for that. Goes up to 300, and then it tanks right on down to 152. For the second time this week, the IV lock comes loose and blood starts to seep into the pillow and blanket. Delightful.(on Monday it blew blood all over the bathroom) Fortuantly, I'm sitting down and it doesn't seep much before a nurse comes to my rescue. This doesn't seem to be my week for luck with IV's and mini IV's.
Anyway, getting back to the blood sugars-I know that bolusing anything at bed is a horrible idea, even if I'm high.(I'll get low) I think I need to cut everything 50% around the board, starting at 11 pm, and post-supper run it on 0% or take my pump off. I'm glad to finally have more sensors, my last bunch expired before I could use them all and I haven't been able to afford any for the past month. CGM's make diabetes so much easier. (goal for new year..get insurance to COVER sensors, a battle I've been too busy to fight) I use my sensors till they absolutely don't work anymore, + get about 2-3x the normal useage out of them. I do get my money's worth but its money that the insurance company should be shelling out, not me.

Friday's Goodie:
(if you're a coffee person- you don't have to be a B&N member to use the coupon)

Have a good weekend,everyone.

Diabetes Humor, Part I

Three guys(a regular Joe Blow,a musician, and a diabetic) walk into a bar.

The J.B. orders a beer.
The musician orders a scotch on the rocks.
The diabetic orders a diet coke.

Half a dozen beers later,the J.B. climbs up on the the bar and begins belting out a drunken melody. Soon, people begin to leave the bar. More people leave, until only the musician, the diabetic, and the bartender remain. The J.B. changes his pitch, and the musician claps his hands over his ears and rushes out. Only the diabetic remains, and he calmly finishes his diet coke, seemingly unfazed by the horrible caterwauling. Eventually, the J.B. gets tired of singing and shuffles out of the bar. The bartender asks the diabetic why he didn't leave.

"Wrong type of key tone" replies the diabetic.

(yeah, pretty lame but its my first attempt at creating a diabetes joke..)

Peaks and Valleys

Overheard:

"I would like the sugar-free ice cream, because I'm interested in making decisions that are healthful for my body."
(6.5 year old nephew)
I think I just about died laughing, in reality he just wanted the chocolate ice cream. Very verbiose little boy.)

Today, I ate an 115 carb bag of chips, half the dip container, 30 carbs juice, 15 carbs instant glucose to treat a low. It was at my favorite store(CVS) and you know how grocery shopping while low goes. Couldn't stop eating. At the end, I was only 356, I've got alot of that post-mountain-climbing-sensitivity thing going on. Had two lows last night.(over the weekend we went down to hike the Blue Ridge Parkway and celebrate oldest bro's b-day)

How to Fail Tests with Dignity

Here.

Been there, done that. No A's given for effort.

The Sweetest Place on Earth

Remarkably, isn't a room full of PWD's gobbling sundaes. Nor is a FFL convention. No, the sweetest place on earth is a certain little town, tucked away very near to an interstate near and dear to my heart. That interstate, takes you all the way to my old hometown. (yeah, I was tempted)

Hershey, PA. The medical center nearby(Milton S. Hershey Medical Center) must get its fair share of touristy types who make wisecracks while waiting in the ER for phenergan because they tossed too many cookies from riding the many wild roller coasters.

"But doc, chocolate has antioxidants! It's good for my heart!"

"Can I have another IV bag of chocolate milk?"

Nurse: "Doc, he's crashing!Do something!"
Doc: "Push two amps of chocolate and stand clear because he's gonna jump off that table a-swinging. He's just in withdrawal."

I'll bet they also diagnose quite a few cases of diabetes, people tend to go a bit overboard on their consumption of chocolate. (saw people carrying huge shopping bags of chocolate)

Nurse: (sniffing) That's DKA.(to self) "Sir, your days of chocolate imbibement are going to have to come to an end- you've got diabetes and after this, chocolate is going to be a treat- not a daily staple."

On that particular day(last Sat.) also cold and drizzly. Went from 76 in one state to 40's in the next. Quite a shock to the system, I was ready to go home. Free Credit Report dot com commercial guy(or his evil twin) pulled up right in front of us, parked his car and strode purposefully toward the entrance, looking as if the weather didn't bother him one bit. Although, if I were making that kind of money off of commercials it wouldn't bother me so much either.
Go inside. Wander over to lunch pavilion, eat lunch. It was buffet style so of course we overate. The pulled pork sandwiches were the only thing that saved me from turning into an icicle, they were lovely and warm. BG 230's.
Went on Ferris Wheel.(we were the only ones)
Went through Zoo America
Went on the "Kissing Tower"
Went on canoe ride(kind of like Splash Mountain but didn't get quite as wet)
BG 179, ate popcorn. Sun comes out.
Went on SkyRide, monorail, antique cars, train
Browesed shops on way out. Both of us hate roller coasters with a passion, no loss there. (we are old boring married people)Got several souvenir thingies for my collections, husband got chocolate. Also got Hershey perfume so I can smell sweet, not just BE sweet. (which is sooo 20th century) BG 238. I swear, its something in the air.

Final stop at the Factory:



Went on tour ride, did some more shopping, then went home. It was a fun day.

Random Youtube Video

I like it.. and it's my blog, so I'll post what I want!

The Ties that (Un) Bind

Dear (life-sucking-former) Work:

You don't owe me anything anymore. Granted, its been almost a year since I walked out your doors, tossed my cap straight up into the rain and danced for the pure joy of never again having to spend a minute more of my time inside of you but there's been the little issue of that final slip of paper I had comin'. I couldn't ignore you completely.


Today, I am truly a free woman.

Hail to the Meters

From the oldest, to the newest.

A Divabetic in DC

"Five, four, three, two, one...."
Confetti erupted as we walked through the doors, into the exhibit hall. I attended
this, an exclusively chick with diabetes event.(my husband had no interest in coming along) There were various booths set up-educational,(5) makeover(4), and caterers. I am not into the makeup deal(on a regular basis) but I thought it would be neat to try it out, see how wild I could look. So I went over to the makeup booth + got wild green eyes and brilliant red lipstick. Then I went over to the food place, but all they had were raw veggies,chicken pieces, and steamed veggies(that looked really gross). I headed back out to the car and grabbed my bag of Doritos because I was starving to death. Chicken, carrot sticks, and diet coke just weren't enough. Went back inside and over to the exercise booth, where you had to go through a mini-exercise session + they really did make it hard. Meanwhile, all this stuff was going on onstage(JDRF, ADA walk members) and musical groups. To get the prize bagpack, you had to go to at least three stations so I went to a "What's your numbers?" station and was told I am officially obese.(BMI=31?) Yep, 5"2, 119 lbs,qualifies me as obese, I guess I should lose about 25 lbs.(heavy sarcasm) But its not a bad number, its just a number.
(the reasoning of these people I simply do not understand)
Went to another booth and pretty much just stated something obvious so that I could just get through it and not have the CDE lecture me on eating every meal,taking your insulin, etc...
(this was pretty basic stuff)

At 3:30, they started handing out awards. And for all of about 2.5 seconds, I had hopes of winning the highly coveted Most Senior Diabetic award.Like I've stated, this was an event catering mainly to the older, type 2 crowd and when you've had diabetes forever you tend to just stay home. Because you already know all this stuff. So I felt like I had a small chance. But then a 12 year, 14 year, 20 year, 27 year, and 34 + 35 year PWD consecuatively squashed those pipe dreams into the cold, hard linoleum. Highly doubtful that I will EVER win such an award. The 34 and 35 year PWD both got nice gift baskets(worth a couple of hundred bucks), they both looked like senior Mrs.America's, they age well. Would be that I will be so lucky. Other gift baskets went to the most travelled(4 hours, from VA Beach), biggest entourage(6 people).

Because I was so bummed out about not walking the runway(I had preconcieved notions that that was what we'd be doing, at some point) I hastily volunteered(along with several others) to demonstrate exercise moves on stage. It didn't much make up for it but I did get several hundred people staring at me and that was definatly an addicting rush. For our troubles, we got a bag with a pack of Splenda.

Went to the CVS Booth- got a handrub-lotion, put hands in plastic baggies, put in waterbag type warmers, take out, take off baggies- felt AWESOME. Headed back out to registration, turned in paper, got prize backpack from NovoNordisk. Of course, the massage therapists and manicurists and caterors had all shut down so for me, the party was pretty much dead. Got a shirt and a wristband and headed out to the parking lot, now a mini-sea and still coming down hard. Good thing it wasn't held outdoors. I highly recommend going to one-if you get the chance. It was pretty cool being with hundreds of other women with diabetes, even if we had absolutely nothing else in common. Being in the racial minority at an event is a little bit awkward, PR people must have taken my picture a dozen times. I am not photogenic and having my picture plastered all over the website has got me a tad nervous.(ackkk)Not sure I'm ready for all of that.

The Unforgettable Call

"You aren't tearing up my golf course," the proprietor, a short, balding man curtly replies as we jump out of the ambulance, ready to do battle against disease and injury.

"But we have to get to the patient-how else are we going to get there?We have a lot of heavy gear," the squad leader asks.

"I dunno- you figure something out. I just don't want ruts the size of basketball courts in my course, and your truck is definatly gonna do that.I don't wanna fix all that."

Roll eyes....Our fearless squad leader, well adept with dealing with all types of difficult individuals, takes it all in stride and decides on golf carts as the means of transportation.

Of which there are only three.

#1 goes to the owner
#2 goes to the squad leader and other trainee
#3 goes to the driver and the bags of gear

And I have to hang off the back of cart #2, because there is simply
no room for me anywhere else. This is a golf course with a lot of hills + rocks
and the prospect of going down them frontwards, let alone backwards,
is not extremely appealing. I will be going down them backwards.

"Isn't this fun?" the squad leader exclaims, as she mashes the accelerator
down to the floor, launching us off on a fifteen foot freefall before impacting earth, making a mini crater.
"Yeah!" squeals the other trainee, jumping up and down off the seat in uncontrollable glee.

I don't say anything, I'm too busy trying not to scream, faint, fall off, or be sick.
This is beyond insane.(not a roller coaster person here!) Jerk,jerk,jerk,
vroom, drop ,thuds, repeat.After about a mile, we finally reach the patient.(It was the scariest ride I have ever been on, bar none)

Initial impression- in no acute distress. Unlike one of the caregivers, whose knees are still knocking so hard you can hear them over in the next county.

"Sir- we're from the rescue squad, what happened?"

"Stepped in a hole, twisted my ankle," he gestures at his right foot, propped up on a pillow.

Beer cans litter the immediate area, one of his buddies is carrying one and if I had to lay good money on it, the patient has contributed greatly to the pile. I take his blood pressure and pulse and he fixes me with an all-knowing look.

"My pulse, is it 76?"

"Uh, yes it is, is that normal for you?"

"It's always 76. Been that my entire life."

I'm somewhat skeptical of that, how is it possible to have a pulse that never deviates, even at rest? Even if you are a fitness buff.

Squad leader stabilizes his ankle, wraps it up in the pillow. Help put him on cart #2 and they take off to the ambulance.(SL driving) Rather difficult I might imagine, but they get there. And the person I drove back with is a better driver and its not so bad.

Back in the ambulance, I again check his blood pressure and pulse. Again, the pulse is 76.I'm starting to believe the patient, it makes the 2nd time. Not that anything is disturbing the patient, who has reached that state of post-beer #5 euphoric eutopic bliss and feels little pain. His ankle was likely broken, and unlike a normal person he's not screaming,cussing, hitting, biting,scratching, flailing, moaning, writhing,spitting, arguing, or otherwise engaged. He's the perfect patient and does everything we ask. The one drawback, he is pretty chatty and during the lengthy ride to the hospital I think we covered all of the 5,000+ events in his life and then some. A third set of vitals...another 76. I believe him totally now.

Sometimes beer is a good thing, it's the great natural anesthesia. But it usually does not make people so easy to get along with. Ah, the good o'le RS days.

Addiction

Very addicting. Nothing I want so far... waiting patiently on my B.O.C.!
(if I conducted my own woot BODC, it would consist of something like the following: 2 meters,5 alcohol swabs, 1 issue of Diabetes Health, a roll of glucose tablets,a small cold pack(for your diabetes case), and a Multiclix)

(B.O.D.C.= bag of diabetes crap)

That Dysfunctional Epithelial Tissue

Primary function of the Epithelial Tissue:

#1 Tends to screw up. Big time. All glands are in epithilial tissue. I wish I knew why islets are so fragile, just like that they're killed by the tcells and the journey of a thousand other afflictions is launched. Islets seem to be the puniest cells in the human body. My islets put up a decent fight(6 month process) but after I was diagnosed, they took no time at all to completely flatline.(starting cpeptide: 0.3, subsequent cpeptide: 0.0) Why oh why, are such vital cells not tougher? I'd rather some organ like the thymus or the appendix go out, and the pancreas NEVER.
(sigh)

Primary function of the external insulin pump:

#1 To (have the infusion set) die, post-lunch, while taking an exam. In that respect,it also tends to screw up at the most vital times. Why can't there be some sort of alarm that goes off when the set isn't in your skin anymore? The Dexcom certainly lets you know when the sensor isn't in the tissue. The pump, has alot of things that need fixing.

I got my upgraded Dexcom, its at home waiting for me when I get back from school! No more having to waste tons of fingersticks(strips!) trying to calibrate the meter to the unit.(via cable) No more cable, you just put your bg in the Dexcom.Yay!

A Case of TMI....

I'm a conspiracy theorist- I believe that school administrators dictate all the instructors to make exams on the exact same weeks. Case in point:
-A&P lab exam, 9/17 (Wed)
-A&P lecture exam, 9/22
-3 page psych paper, 9/22
-5 page sociology paper, 9/24 (Wed)
All three courses hitting the big time over the course of a week. Not just dumb luck, the A&P was more then enough to keep me occupied. I barely have time or energy for all I have to do.I've found that certain monthly events can also negatively deplete electrolytes, whereas the infusion I got Friday would have lasted me till Monday just fine,it ran out Friday night and Monday morning can't come soon enough. No energy whatsoever,and its from low electrolytes, not hormones. (Told you you didn't want to read this!)

Spot the OC'rs

Here:

(there are four, that I can see!) More (of course) were there,if you see more then that let me know.

Ten Things I'd like my Doctor to Know

#1 This isn't a confessional, and likely neither of us is Catholic so don't turn it into a guiltfest. Yes, I messed up. I'm only human, and the large gaps in my logbook void of any carb count info whatsoever can be expected. I'll try to do better.

#2 Don't tell me I'm too young for x, y, and z. Anything is possible, everything is probable, and stranger things have happened.

#3 Don't tell me I lucked out by having a weird genetic thing. Luck is not the term for it, luck is REALLY not the term for it. Trial by fire is the term for it. It's a medical condition and no medical condition is particularly pleasant, especially not one that requires weekly electrolyte infusions + over time,(like about the time it takes for diabetes to kill the kidneys) can cause kidney failure although that's pretty rare. The only cure, is a kidney transplant sometimes they transplant even if the rest of your kidney function is ok. Which mine is. And I don't want a transplant, although if kidney failure ever necessitates one I'd have a double advantage.

#4 I've probably had diabetes longer then you've been practicing medicine so I'd appreciate you showing a little trust.(if you're not an endo, please don't play one) I know how serious diabetes can be.

#5 I dislike insurance companies just as much as you do, they never have the best interests of the patient in mind.

#6 If there's ever a cure for diabetes, I'm taking you out to lunch.

#7 Diet Coke is on top of the food pyramid. I cannot stop drinking it.

#8 This is a partnership + I wish to be treated as comprehending 75% of what you are actually saying. It will eventually sink in.(forgive me if I don't quite understand how the Loop of Henle reabsorbs,absorbs, and fails to absorb) Every case is different, so I'm guessing not even you have things entirely figured out as it pertains to mine.

#9 A hypo, is a force not to be reckoned with.It's like being starved for a week and then let loose at a Chinese buffet, it is very hard not to go completely wild.

#10 Watching more episodes of shows like House...will greatly improve your ability to relate with your patients. That's where they get 99% of their medical knowledge anyway.
(season premiere tonight,btw!)

Lessons of a Yard Sale(Part II)

Lesson Set #1
and last Saturday...
1. If something hasn't sold in 4 yard sales(2 years) it's probably never gonna and it's time to just let go...and give it to charity.

2. The dude who wants to know if you've got any sniper rifles for sale might just be on for something. As it pertains to scaring the heck out of #3, so much so that they'll never come back. No, I don't have any knives or guns for sale + I've no idea why he asked that.(nor do I want to know)

3. More of my favorite type of customer- the type who loudly proclaim something isn't worth it, offer you less then a dollar for the very expensive item, and snuff off in a pout when you stand firm that this price is the lowest you'll go. Grrrr, I bet you have no problem shelling out for the exact same item at JCPenney. At a yard sale, though, it's supposed to be free or nearly so.

4. Items being used by yourself(such as the fan and rocking chair) need to have signs that they aren't for sale because they are invariably the items that people want to buy the most.
Fan? no
Rocking chair? no
Windex bottle? no
Price stickers? no
Nationals baseball cap? no
(the forbidden seems to have the most appeal)

5. Water bottles really sell. WHO knew, my FFL stash is down to 2 now. I am giving the rest to the Salvation Army. I'd never pay money for something I've got zillions of but most people don't attend conferances and don't get zillions of various items.

6. The hot sun is great for the bgs..stayed between 140-170 for 6 straight hours, even postmeal!

7. People who don't like to drink diet soda probably don't have diabetes.

8. The price of everything drops by 10%, every hour.

9. You'll invariably forget to put a box of stuff out and be kicking yourself for missing out on a potential $30+ more in sales.(and it'll have to wait till the next one)
(kick,kick, kick)

10. Playing "Let's stop the Diabetics" is really fun, although most were in the type 2 category there was a young women who got the Ultra Mini(I give away my extra meters) and she coulda been a type 1. Or maybe people just like getting freebies, no matter what it is. Sometimes people are open about the D and sometimes they just grab and run. There was only one women who actually talked to me about it.

11. Drinking $6 worth of Diet Sodas significantly cuts into one's profits.

12. Heavy rains the night before tend to deter people from coming out en masse the next day-sales weren't as good.

13. We should have sold the new neighbor's house,it's kind of doubtful as to when they're coming back. Been gone for over a week now(they headed down with their boat to have some fun in Hurricane Gustav). One has to wonder whether they are coming back.

The First Type 1 Ironman!

Yo, Bill-you forgot to suck your finger.(maybe most D's didn't do that,back in 1983 though...)

25 years later...he's still doing what he loves. Ironman #6, in October.

Stars of the Fallen

Forgetting isn't an option. Ever-the destruction of this country begins with people who could care less about the thousands(maybe more) of hardcore terrorists who eat,breathe, and live to wipe America off the planet.

The Chicken or the Egg: A Diabetes Debate

You know just after you've taken your first course in a subject and are convinced that you know it all?

Yeah, you could say I'm SOOO at that place. (best Patrick Dempsey impersonation)

So, in psych class we've been rehashing all the major theorists + boring doesn't begin to do justice to the term. The summer course was so packed, so intense, that I'm remembering all this stuff and listening to it again is like regurgitating a fine steak.(great the first time, NOT great the 2nd time) I like psych, I'm probably going to end up a psychiatric pediatric nurse at this rate. I am also ready to move beyond the basics- start solving the world's problems or at least understand them better.

But the one thing the prof said caught my attention, the issue of which comes first- the urge to change behavior(feelings) or the behavior itself. I can see both sides, in the tv show What not to Wear they give the contestants a $5,000 wardrobe makeover,new hair style, makeup- fixing the behavior first, and then the feelings of self confidence + initiative catch up.

And then diabetes(or another chronic disease) comes into the picture and things get so blurry you're not sure which theory is right. If the behavior comes first, you might as well forget about it because someone has to want to change. And if feelings come first, past good disease management doesn't necessarily have a positive impact if you're in that blue funk right now. Learned behavior doesn't mean you'll just automatically keep repeating it, regardless of how you feel. And doing it, does not make one happy about doing it. (it's usually the opposite)

I guess it's like Joe S. said in his FFL discussion group...feelings are important, but you can't run your management off them. It's non negotiable, diabetes management. You might displace your feelings of anger and non compliance into being the longest haired, most tattooed individual in your neighborhood but you can't cope with it by ignoring your disease. It has consequences far beyond one's own life- the family,friends, national and global impact of soaring health care costs. Being angry at diabetes is perfectly acceptable, learning how to channel that anger into a more productive end product is the challenge.
What are you guys thoughts on this?
(logic was never my strong point, these are just my weird ramblings)

Rappin' it up for Diabetes Care

One in a Million

Raise your hand if you've ever felt unique, because of your diabetes.


Raise your other one if you're convinced that yours is the freakingist, hardest, most complex case ever.


And now, jump up and down when you hear that the autosomal recessive gene curse has struck again.. and the thing you're being tested for, is something that about 250 people in the US have. That the nephrologist, who has been in practice for 35 years, has never seen before.

Bartter's Syndrome. None of my five siblings have anything weird, or chronic diseases.I'm not sure my parents knew what they were in for, that fall day when I made my appearance on earth. Or that January day, when the screwy genes collided.
There's a few more tests that have to be run, but one thing is for sure, magnesium infusions are going to be a part of life for an indeterminate period of time.

A Labor Day Wish

The past few weeks have been rather difficult, as I come to terms with something every bit as votile and twisted as diabetes is. But accentuating the positives is good for one's mental health, so I'll take a whack at it:
- No school(today)- I don't have to survive through it.
- I'm not in the hospital, ER, or doctor's office. And that's a good thing, I'm tired of all three places. Tomorrow may be another story, but that's tomorrow + I'm trying to focus on making today the best it can be.
-I have a great family,a wonderful husband,and a good life.Overall. I'm not in the path of Hurricane Gustav, having to flee for my life while the house/possessions get demolished.
The sun is shining, there is fall nip in the air, and it's the perfect holiday.

Today is my birthday,and I want to live life, not the other way around.

Signs of the New Semester

#1 My A&P prof(don't ask, the first go around was not a transfer worthy grade) is a Hungarian MD- PHD with a NIPRO insulin pump. Be still, my heart, life is so much weirder then fiction. I haven't told her yet of our unusual teacher-student bond, but she'll think its cool too,she's very much a people person.

#2 My psych class is ok, basically a repeat of everything I learned over the summer. It's going to be mind-numbingly boring(and easy). Thank goodness it's only going to be 2 hours,because if it went 3 I'd be psychotic. The instructor is not scintillating, or funny, or original. If it weren't for the required attendance policy(as in, you miss, your grade goes down) I would not be there.

#3 My Sociology prof, a venerable white haired gentleman, is anti-textbook + rages against them quite frequently(not endearing himself to the faculty, apparently). So he gives out 7+ handouts every class, to discuss next class. By semester's end, I will have a nice little book of handouts but at least I don't have to shell out $50+ for the book! This class will be interesting, but it goes to the very end(9:45 pm)and after almost 3 hours of sitting in class(no breaks) it would take an earthquake to keep me interested/alert at that hour.

Found out today that my SIL(the one who had pancreatitis) has acquired diabetes + is taking insulin. Why insulin(and not pills) I'm not sure. I also don't know whether her type is temporary(caused by the pancreatitis) or developing into type 1? guess I need to do some more reading about it. I'm going to try to help however I can(my vast store of knowledge, inflicted on her) someone else in the immediate family getting diabetes makes me feel a little weird, it's been a lonely (solo) disease for the past 10 years.

Move Over, Michael Phelps....

For this prestigious athlete, winner of a gold medal in US Men's Volleyball! A tremendous moral booster for all of us living with diabetes.(and we need it, since Gary Hall JR didn't make the cut this year)

One World,Minus One

The world feels emptier this morning, my FIL passed away last night. He was a great person and always made me feel welcome, part of the family. I am glad we got married when we did + for every single trip out there,it meant alot to them.(if we'd have waited they wouldn't have been able to come to the wedding) I only wish there'd been more, it takes time(and proximity) to really get to know someone. The funeral will be held in Kansas, because that's where he grew up.

Catchup: 8/05/08

CWD, Quilt for Life:




As usual, I was late to the party(Tues.afternoon-evening)but I got to help take down the quilts at 6 pm.(a 1.5 hour process, it was tougher then I'd thought it'd be because everything had to go in the correct box, in order, etc.) As I took down my quilt, it was the first time in 6 years that I've actually got to feel it(a very emotional moment, I got a little choked up). It was so long ago(6 + years?) that most of the information on it is obsolete but it is what it is. An antiquated piece of diabetes history that little children will ask their parents what in the world a MM508 was.

Someone else's, dx'd 3 days before me:


The FBI were on hand, at some other nearby festival:


I also browsed the American History Museum in the afternoon. That was pretty cool, definatly have to go back and see that.(more throughly)


After packing up the quilt, and being weighed down with as much glucose tabs/wristbands/water as I could carry(I was the only type 1 around, and the individual was trying to get rid of them)I walked backed to the Metro,went home(actually made pretty good time, the evening traffic jam was over). I learned something about CWD's Ask the Diabetes Team feature.. just WHO all gets to read that submitted question before it gets forwarded to the appropriate medical professional. I don't think I'll be asking any more questions,ever, of them.
(there are other places you can get your D questions answered) It made my hair straighten.(and that's saying something)

But the real reason I went to the CWD conference had to be this:


The absolute coolest thing I got in Orlando, a clip for my Deltec Cozmo. Gone are the days of Medtronic pump envy, how I stayed ignorant of the fact that Deltec had a clip too is beyond me. I thought I was pretty "in" when it came to earth-shattering events in the D-world. It's thick, it's sturdy, and it rotates 360. Four weeks later, I'm still marveling over it.

The Magnesium Wars

For the most part, the tall people get all the breaks, they are the Olympic champions.(except maybe gymnastics)
Swimming
Beach Volleyball(Kerri Walsh/Misty May-Treanor are KILLERS)
Diving?
Running(duh)
Basketball(double duh)
soccer
cycling
etc..
It's kind of sad, because even if you have the drive to excel you can't be a champion unless your body type matches up.

My electrolytes tanked again and had to have more IV magnesium.They didn't admit me because it wasn't "critical" (its hard to get in the hospital and even harder to get out + the definition of critical varies by the physician) but if the dierrea doesn't stop and I don't start absorbing the supplements I'll probably be back in there. The gastro dr sent off more bloodwork + cultures to make sure its not antibiotic associated. None of which I'll know the results of, since its a weekend.
Also my FIL has taken a turn for the worse, is in hospice,and my husband flew out there today because its not expected to be much longer. I'm not going, much as I feel guilty about not being there I've got problems of my own. A cross country flight would kill me. I'd originally wanted to go down and help my parents with their big fair exhibition, but its more likely they'll be coming up here and bailing me out. Life sure gets weird sometimes. My dad donated his Obama portrait to the Democrat booth and his McCain portrait to the Republican one and they both absolutely love him now. Both parties love you..how's that for mind-blowingly amazing?! My mom says they are passing out balloons and when a Republican gets a hold of an Obama balloon or vice versa, they immeadiently pop it, it sounds like WW3 in there. (hilarious!) Ah, the sights and sounds of an election year.
I got an ipod touch..don't really need the iphone but I really like all the features.(such as internet) Plus, my contract isn't up, so I gotta hang onto the cellphone awhile longer. It's weird having a non 410 area code,I am definatly the weirdo.(the entire state is 410) I'll be selling my old ipod on Ebay.

New neighbors are moving in this weekend, and they are the closest neighbors we've got.(we live at an intersection) They apparently have two humongous dogs.. and we have two cats. Perfect neighbor combo.

The Tale of a Morphine Shot

There are certain things in life that you can't see yourself ever experiencing, until you actually do it. Take, for example, not eating, not drinking, and not being hungry but not nauseous either. My SIL recently went through a month long process by which she did neither, post pancreatitis. I never thought that would be possible for a D.(I love my Diet Coke) The stomach needs its food.

Until last Thursday.

It started at 11 AM prompt,abdominal pains that came in waves + as expected, necessitating much time spent in a certain small room. But there was something weird about this pain...it was severely constipating and 2 hours later, when was over, there was still pain. No appetite. By 5:30, I thought it prudent to go to the ER, its not the dierrea that concerned me, it was the lack of dierrea. Nothing is budging. My gut, with the exception of the odd stomach bug, is a healthy gut..no surgeries, diseases, or other issues down there but this is weird + the pain is not getting any better. It's pretty busy that night and the PA on duty just thinks I've got the local bug(or whatever), it's rather difficult to make her understand its not the dierrea, its the now lack of it, that concerns me. Thankfully, there is an MD over her...who comes in, pokes around on my belly,and decides I need a CAT scan. Blood work comes back, white blood cells are high. Start antibiotics, move me to another part of the ER.
3 hours pass, get through the CAT scan, watch the final episode of "Hopkins" + hope I'm not going there. At 1 AM prompt, two doctors(never a good sign) march into my room with the results and inform me of a bowel intussusception, I need to be admitted and possibly have surgery. The nurse on duty that morning, seems a little different when it comes to D care-she's taking bgs every couple of hours(very overkill compared to everyone else in the hospital) she has a daughter on the pump. She "gets it" and informs the surgeon I can't go off my pump. She freakin' rocked.(would be that she could be cloned)
3:30 am, I'm admitted. I don't sleep and at 5:30 am the other side of the room starts to stir. Tries to get out of bed, pulls out catheter, etc. In general, is a busy girl for the nex two hours. Alarms keep going off, nurses keep coming in and at one point she engages me in conversation. I tell her she could ask the nurses(not that I could help her, I've got too much hardware on myself to be going anywhere) and she lets loose with a string of unflattering words regarding my character. Alzheimer's is bearable if you're the nurse(and getting payed) or if you're the family member and have memories of a time when that person was with it, but when you're the unrelated roommate it isn't. By 7:30 three nurses are in the room, trying to control her and I wish someone would give her a huge shot of Haldol, I'd do it myself in a heartbeat. Room-mate-icide is a perfectly acceptible option under those circumstances. Fortuantly, 10 minutes later they put me in another room where its much more peaceful. The surgeon comes by and says they need one more test to see if I need surgery. Go down to barium and xray. 3 pm the surgeon comes back and says I don't need surgery, my bowel has straightened out + it does that sometimes. Whether this means I can go home is debateable but I'm on my last(don't ask how old) infusion set and I need more. (it is looking very bad) I call up my endo's office, right across the street and my endo calls me back promptly. By 4, she delivers sets and resevoirs + some "pump hospital info" that I know Wendy in particular, would just love. Basically, I have to agree to be the perfect little diabetic for however long I'm in there or its back to injections for me. Performed a perfunctory exam, made sure I had an appt. with her relatively soon(Sep), and ordered a thyroid test.(what is it with endos and thyroids?) At 5, I get a pain shot while the hospitilist is talking to me and immediately become a blithering idiot. The hospitilist isn't releasing me yet, neither liquid or food is a possibility at this point and the barium has swept through my intestines like a bottle of Drano. Husband comes by to keep me company, but I'm in lala land for the next 12 hours. Bg stays steady at 185, 165.(it's easier when you can't eat) More antibiotics, more IV bags.

Sat. morning dawns and I feel much better. Breakfast is a clear liquid diet, but it stays down. 3 pm, the surgeon come by and again tells me I can go home. A new hospitalist comes by and tells me I can't, my potassium is in the tank + with the dierrea its not a good idea. GI doctor comes by, and says I may need that test where you swallow some camera if my dierrea doesn't resolve. Get moved to another room.

Sunday- They want to move me back to the room with the room mate from heck,I refuse.
I get a room mate. It's freakin' official, I'm getting bored to tears. I would do anything to leave. Morning blood draw, breakfast, internal medicine doctor comes by to inform me my potassium still sucks and do I have any ideas about why, since I've been pumped and pilled full of it for 2.5 straight days? That would be yes, you'd better check my magnesium, I have a kidney issue and leak it like a sieve. It gets pretty low sometimes. Gastro dr comes by and perclaims me good to go, dierrea has temporarily stopped. Run check on magnesium. Eat lunch. Watch Olympics. Do cross stitch. Meanwhile, all 10 relatives of room mate show up and party hardy from 10 am to 8 pm. I don't really mind, they are funny + very pleasant. Internal medicine doc shows up again and informs me that I was right, my magnesium level was 1.0(bordering on heart attack) and unless it got better with two bags of IV mag. I wouldn't be going anywhere. 5 hours later, it wasn't. Another night spent in paradise. Another bag of mag. Dierrea reappears.

Monday morning: Tank up on more mag,potassium, Immodium. Dierrea stops. Only three of room mate's relatives today.(better...)Internal medicine doctor comes by again, another gastro doctor. Another blood test. 5pm, internal medicine doctor comes by and says my mag. and potassium are now normal and I can go home.I could just kiss him, I'm more then ready to get out. The great thing about IV magnesium is it doesn't cause dierrea but you also can't get it without being in the hospital. Gotta schedule appts with my primary care doc to recheck levels + watch the gut if it reappears but it really feels great to be out. Missed my internet, my blogging,that was the worst part.I didn't have much severe pain, it was more an issue of the fallout of the event that kept me in the hospital. Narcotics also knock me out for a long time + I hate asking for them.(although, ibuprofen is freakin' harder to get then narcotics when you're in the hospital, it takes five hours to get the orders written, delivered, and dispensed. If you've got a headache, smuggle in your own) Oh, and yes, my room mate is a type 2 and has absolutely perfect blood sugars(110-130) despite being on Byetta, metformin, and 70/30.(weird combo) I, on the other hand, range from 170-400 and get chewed out by the nurses on a regular basis.

Ich Bin Ein Marylander

Olympic Champion..Baltimore resident, #1 Ravens Fan:


(apparently, he also attends Ravens games so I might just might see him, if I go to a game!!!)

Go Katie Hoff!!!!


(ok, I confess, I still don't like(hate) the Ravens but I think the place is growing on me. Just maybe, its possible to feel like a Virginian and a Marylander simultaneously.)

If PWD's ruled the World

...there would be a cure. Pure and simple. But in the absence of a cure:

1.Police would check for a medical alert first before throwing you in the car, destination night in the slammer.

2. Children with diabetes would be able to check blood, etc. in the classroom, in short, be able to manage their D without the teachers/lawyers/ whoever going beserk.

3. At convenience stores, there would be 101 types of diet sodas/flavored waters/teas/carb free drinks and one 2-3 "real" drinks, in case you needed them for a low.

4. Your car would have a built-in bg meter and you couldn't start it without testing(being at LEAST 80) initially and every 2-4 hours.

5. CGM's would have mandated, 100% coverage.

6. Bathroom stalls would each have a little ledge to balance meter, etc. Bathrooms are extremily unhygenic places to do the diabetes business but everyone ends up doing it there, sometimes.

7. Saying "Should you be eating that?" would be a criminal offense, punishable by 6 months of hardcore CDE brainwashing and the concurrent diet of black bread and water.

8.Test strips and insulin would not cost $1 each +$110/vial, respectfully. Supply would far outstrip demand.

9. Swimming pools would come equiped with an optional "Low Station" booth, which could be stocked with tabs, juice, glucagon, etc. And we'd not be banned from access to food or drinks.

10. Lifeguards would be trained in giving glucagon.

11. Endocrinologists would have to pass a "Trial by PWD's" ever five years, to make sure they were fit to be practicing medicine.

12. Fashion designers would incorporate more hidden pockets, etc, into pump friendly clothing.

13. Being "HIGH" would not cost you your job.

14. Toilets would automactically check for ketones, when you flushed.

15. Once a month, there would be a national "I Hate Diabetes" day + anything you wanted to destroy(of your own, that is) or eat, would be perfectly permissable.

16. Spas would give out "Pamper the Feet, Keep the Feet" massage vouchers to every PWD.

17. Caffeine would be measured and recorded in beverages. (I know I'm not the only one who spikes from it!)

18. Movie theaters would have built-in back lights on the back of the seats for testing blood sugar in the dark.

19. Hospitals would not discharge you with a blood sugar level of 390 mg/dl.

20. We would not callously ignore the unconscious individual laying on the subway platform..honestly, who does something like that?(read the news) We know what its like to be in need of assistance)

21. Every restaurant would have nutritional info for everything on their menus.

22. Meters would come in the full spectrum of colors..per gratis.(why pay $70 when you can get one free?)

23. Duct tape and pump tubing would fix anything.

24. We'd all have the same weird symptom at 70 mg/dl and we'd be able to recognize and treat before it progressed.

25. Test strips and empty vials would be biodegradable.

26. Meter's would be 100% accurate. None of that +/- 30% crap, what you see is what you are.

27. An a1v under 6 would put you in the Diabetes Hall of Fame...right up there with Gary Hall, JR.

28. Meters would spontaneously combust, if your average was too high.(I hate a high average, it's like screw this for the next 2 months!)

29. "The Dawn Phenomenon" would be the name of the next blockbuster summer horror movie flick.

30. People would not be judged, on how many accountermants they needed to live a healthy life..your not a weirdo for needing a pump, glasses, wheelchair,CGM, etc.The personality of the person,would speak for itself.(not the preconceived notion of what the individual could or could not do)

31. The "Quilt for Life" would be a permanent exhibit in one of the buildings in DC.

That's my list..what do you guys think it would be like, if PWD's ruled the world?

The Numbers Game

This wasn't the session(It's Not Just a Number's Game) I'd envisioned myself ever attending, to be perfectly honest, I'd wandered up+ over to this section of the hotel intent on finding a computer and easing my internet-deprivation pangs ASAP. There was nothing on the time slot agenda to suit the tastes of this finicky type 1.

And then I saw it. Maybe it wouldn't be so boring, I'd met the guy several years ago at my first FFL and he is anything but boring. I wander in, and sit next to another renegade type 1. (you could tell, by the green wristbands...everyone who didn't have type 1 diabetes wore orange wristbands)

Take 1, roll tape recorder. Two minutes in, I know that it's worth my time to stay-this guy has hit the nail on the head. It's mentally refreshing to hear someone else(someone with 40+ years of diabetes under his belt) hate diabetes with such a fervor and his sense of dry humor is right up my ally. I'm not sure how many of the parents would have rushed out and backed their car over their kid's bg meter as a form of therapy but everyone is enjoying the mental image of doing that. As a family therapist specializing in D for over 30 years, he's been around the block, seen every trick a kid with D can pull and his ways of dealing with those situations are extremily unconventional- making both the kids AND the parent(s) hate his guts.(temporarily)

I think many of the great psychologists/therapists have a screwed up youth, and where diabetes is concerned, which fuels the desire to help people.Back in the 60's, they didn't really talk about it and blame was rampant so I'm sure his was pretty difficult as well. Heck, it's still hard 30 years later, my parents didn't deal so well with it either. Being involved in your kid's life,even if they are a teenager is a must. (you certainly don't want them to turn out like me!) Also, the most important factor in a kid's a1c 1 year+ later is the ability of the mom to "keep it all together"(Dstuff,life in general) I thought that was pretty interesting.(if I were to have a child with diabetes,their a1c would probably be horrendous)

"Is that you beeping?" the woman on my left asks.

Of course it is..I have 4 electronic devices on my person, and three of them are going off. Cozmo is reminding me it's 1.5 hours after the meal, the Dexcom is telling me I'm over 250, and a pump I'm trial-ing with saline is going off too.

Not just a number's game, but I do feel the urge to rip them off my body + forget that diabetes even exists. They didn't have to do this in 1925, worry constantly about postmeals and pre-meals and malfunctioning sensors. Numbers
can be the absolute worst part about diabetes, in the absense of complications.


(check out Yoda's little pump!I meant to include sound clips from the lecture, but they didn't record very well.)

Total Copay: $0

This is pretty cool....heck, he's probably a better diagnostician then the local ER doc!

Tapped

We have a diagnosis.

I have experienced gastro symptoms, dizzyness, at various points since last year.
The gastro symptoms reached their zenith earlier this year + haven't really bothered me on a consistent basis.(not like they were) So I assumed whatever was causing that, was gradually getting better.

On a wild shot,my doctor ordered a spinal tap.

And it came up positive for various markers of inflammation. So he ordered a head MRI(completely normal)

And ordered another spinal tap, to see if anything had changed.Today, I called them back to find out the results
and the results are unchanged, so its his professional opinion that I have Mollaret's Meningitis,a sort of chronic inflammation that doesn't show up on MRI and can occur without fever. Meningitis can also explain the puking. Mollaret's is really rare so he is running several other tests to make sure its not caused by a viral agent. I don't know that there is any treatment other then supportive, have an appointment this Friday to discuss it all.
This is beyond weird,mind blowingly weird, weird, weird.

Notes from a Spinning Planet: FFL Recap

It wasn't just for the kids. (though it was mainly for them)

Nor the celebs with type 1.

Nor the parents + siblings.

Nor the doctors/researchers/medical professionals.

Nor the renegades who didn't quite fit into any of the groups. This wasn't middle school(although some of the renegades did eventually meet/hang out, just like middle school)

It was bigger then that, we were there for what we had in common, not what we didn't.(how else could I think of topics of conversation (other then the weather) (cold turkey) if it weren't? I'm not much of a talker.

No, I happen to think it was for all of us...how you could go to a conference with over 3000 informed,passionate (for a cure) people and not be inspired would be beyond me. It's not just what you learn, it is the total experience. For me, just being there was motivation to keep going.

(and that's all for today,first day back home and I'm catching up on everything(including sleep)

The Forgotten Patient

On a non-D message board that I frequent, an individual posted about the problems he was having with his diabetes..this being your regular run of the mill website, there were the usual admonitions to suck it up and take care of it, along with the tales of aunts/uncles/cousins/dogs dying gruesome deaths from it + how it would be him, if he didn't start trying harder.

That made me see red..here's this guy, he has type 2 diabetes and little D education..he gets sick,ends up in the ER with a blood sugar of over 500-the ER doesn't refer him to anyone, they treat his bg w/insulin and fluids and kick him right back out. Continues to take his Metformin, and his blood sugars continue to hang out in the 300-400's. Doc tells him to increase his Metformin(apparently no ketones)but he's still high.. this guy needs to be on insulin. He's going to switch doctors, but right now he's floundering around with no support whatsoever.

Nope, this guy isn't the forgotten patient.(as sad as it is) The forgotten patients are the sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, children, wives, husbands, friends, grandparents, grandchildren, etc.. their loved ones die from diabetes, and they don't get the real scoop- they are left to make their own theories about how rotten a person they were, not to take care of themselves. And the doctor's quick "they died from diabetes" does nothing to alleviate the automatic blame placement.Mentally, these people need more then the bare-bones facts..they need to know what a complex mess it is.

This is diabetes. Even people who try, may eventually get complications, and pass away from them. There is nothing moral about it- yet "you're killing yourself" is the phrase on millions of lips, millions of tombstones, millions of doctors' conversations. Yet, someone who is driving too fast, gets into an accident, and gets killed is never accused of killing them self.

We need education, THEY need education, that diabetes is not some simple x-y-z equation and you live happily ever after. Doctors need to tell the families that their loved ones weren't horrible people intent on killing themselves as quickly as possible. Honestly, the many impediments to good control...(financial-if I had no health insurance, I'd be in significantly worse control then I am now, skimping on test strips,cheaper insulins, etc.) emotional...other illnesses...lack of a good, basic diabetes education..

the list never ends. Shouldn't we be trying to help people, giving them what they need, and not making them feel even worse about the situation then they already do? Who DOESN'T know that this isn't the right path, even if they're merely ignoring/engaging in deep denial about the diabetes? They know, they just don't want to face it. There are steps to accepting a chronic disease, and it can take a pretty hefty combo of things to get a person to start caring.

I guess the only real solution is to come up with a cure, then we can all forget about the archaic disease called diabetes + start blaming people for other diseases.(although I can't think of any that incur so much blame as diabetes)

Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth

Next week.

Next week, I throw my junk into the biggest suitcase I can find, and take to the skies.

Final Destination: The CWD Friends For Life Convention, which might as well be another planet, it is so different from normal life.

I'll roam with ax chopping murderers(oh, wait,that's ME-not her!) j/k Wendy, meet (and re-meet) other D-Bloggers(Tudiabetes in there as well), see my ex Endo that I haven't seen since the funeral, drink alot of alcohol while working on my tan(great thing is, everyone will have glucagon kits! if I need bailing out), laugh, (probably) bawl, and have another amazing time of my life. It won't be absolutely perfect, because my husband can't come, but hopefully next year.

I cannot WAIT...
(I'm mostly packed already..and even have a letter from my endo for the unintellegent TSA agents)

Pies in the Sky

Got an "A" in my psych class, I really wasn't expecting that at all.(since I went into the final with a B average)


This was kind of a bummer morning..got a glossy flier in the mail, advertising some research study(which I'd hoped would be an investigational cure type), excitingly called about it,but it was just an inhaled insulin study.(two groups, inhaled "Generex" insulin and the nph/regular group) People STILL use NPH?? that was the most shocking thing about it. I mean, the control group should at least get to use humalog/lantus. No way I would e.v.e.r. use NPH/regular again, and it's doubtful that I'd even EVER use inhaled insulin.
Darn.Missed the cure boat..I had my hopes sky high that there was some kind of therapy out there that was not toxic to the rats...and had been approved for trials in humans.Kind of like INGAP.

Wednesday Morning Comin' Down

1.Well I woke Wednesday morning, with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt

And the Diet Coke I'd had for breakfast, wasn't bad, so I had two more for dessert

Then I stumbled to the nightstand, grabbed my meter and blew off all the dirt

Checked right in at 303..and knew I was was more then ready to greet the day!


2.I'd blown my luck the night before, with Chinese food-complete with all the fixin's

As I changed my set, the needle bled and so I screamed like the dickens

Then I drove by a DQ, and caught a glance of someone eating ice cream

And well, it took me back to something

That I knew I'd lost somewhere, somehow, along the way.




On a DQ restaurant sidestreet

I'm wishin' so, that I was cured

Cuz' there's something in a Sundae

That makes the body, know you'll pay

And there's nothing short of DKA

That's half as effective, as the threat

Of a dripping, gooey Sundae

Putting you in loads of debt.




2.Though I know a pump won't ever stop the swinging

And sometimes, its too hard to sort the choices life keeps flinging

As I headed home, and somewhere very close a fire truck was shrieking

It echoed through my memories, reminding me of all those yesterdays.



On a DQ restaurant sidestreet

I'm wishin' so, that I was cured

Cuz' there's something in a Sundae

That makes the body, know you'll pay

And there's nothing short of DKA

That's half as effective, as the threat

Of a dripping, gooey Sundae

Putting you in loads of debt.


P.S. I know D's can have their cake/ice cream + eat it too..+ I'm not bashing that, but bgs are still going to spike+ crash + eating carb rich foods are a tremendous struggle for me to get right)

Cartoon of the Week (#2)

(totally unrelated, but very funny!)

Flying Solo

"Is there a doctor or paramedic on board?" the flight attendants, moving around the mostly sleeping cabin, inquire.

My husband gives me a poke. "Ask if you can help."

"I'm NOT a paramedic."

But there are no doctors on board.

No nurses.

No paramedics. I believe that anyone with money would not be flying packed-rat class on the world's worst airline, red-eye to LAX on a Saturday night. Three hours delayed, to boot.

In the news, when people have an onboard emergency, a host of medical personal(physicians, surgeons, flight nurses, etc.) pop up from out of the woodwork and work feverishly to save that person's life while the pilot makes an emergency landing. Trained people, knowledgable people, people you WANT to be working on you. Not some petrified young EMT who has never done CPR solo( the codes I've been involved in, the paramedics were all over it and the best thing I could do was not get in their way and hand them the appropriate tools at the appropriate times). Except on Manniken Annie, and that hardly counts.

But I appear to be the only one. How can one just sit there and do nothing, and be able to live with yourself later on? Despite the incredibly poor timing (I wouldn't want anyone like me to be working on me) you can't just do nothing. I pledge not to lose them, or my own cool. (until later) I briefly consider the legal ramifications if this individual dies while under my offered services, no good Samaritan Laws protect you if you're a medical professional. Guess I'll be spending the next X years in jail.

Thunk, thunk, thunk. That's the sound of my own heart,racing fit to beat the top qualifier in the Indy 500. Dexcom blood sugars immeadietly begin to go up.

They aren't having chest pain, difficulty breathing, or a heart attack. Just an apparent run-of-the-mill stomach bug.

Thank you, God. Although I could do CPR, I would prefer the first time not be at 32,000+ feet, solo responsible for someone else's life.(aren't flight attendants supposed to be trained in CPR/AED? What do they think the doc/paramedic has, an advanced cardiac drug box with them?)

Finally my bg levels off at 250 mg/dl. I'm really not ready to fly solo on this one, the next person to have a heart attack would be me.

Another Piece of History

Diabetes Gettysburg Address..(thought about it when I read this.)

Four score and four years ago, our Canadian brethren brought forth, on this continent, a new medication, conceived in ingenuity, and dedicated to the novel idea that billions should not die.

Now, we are engaged in a great global war of chronic disease- testing whether, a group of diabetics, we can long endure. (With toes and teeth intact) We are met on a battlefield of that war- the field of research. We have come to dedicate a portion of ourselves, to eradication of that dread disease, that sucked the last breath from their dying lips. It is altogether proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate-we cannot consecrate- we cannot ever do enough. The brave individuals, living and dead, who have struggled (and continue to struggle) consecrate it far beyond our poor power to add or detract. Rather, it is for us, the living, to be dedicated to this last remaining task- that from these pitied dead we take increased devotion toward ending diabetes- that we here resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this planet shall have a new birth of freedom, and that this disease, of, for, and by the people- shall rapidly perish from this earth.

Have a great 4th, everyone. We enjoy so many freedoms, and the "life" (in the life,liberty, and the pursuit of happiness) part is a biggie(one that PWD's, prior to insulin, did not have).

Dreaming with the Dexcom

I've had plenty of diabetes dreams, and I've had lucid dreams (something I never knew other people experienced too, until I took psych). Never had a diabetic lucid dream although this one kind of came close. I always thought my dreams lasted for about a millisecond and the seemingly endless high or low were just exaggerations. But my textbook, informed me that dreams unfold in real-time. I didn't think it was possible to have a low lasting over 30 minutes without A. waking up or B. going into seizure. Dexcom has proved me wrong.(apparently, I do have a glucose producing liver at moments when it actually counts)

I think it would be kind of neat to be dreaming about a low or high(which translate into feeling hungry and thirsty, in the dream) and see how low or high I actually am, and for how long. (corresponding time chunk) Not that difficult, because if I wake up suddenly, most of the time I remember my dreams. Lucid dreaming is pretty hard/rare though, you can't just decide to do it. (dumb luck)I may know that I have diabetes in my dream, but not that eating or drinking will not cure my symptoms.So I'm merrily eating mountains of pancakes or drinking gallons of water and it isn't doing any good at all.(till I wake up) I don't know if wild bg variations make for more nightmares, probably not, I've always dreamed alot. The problem with using the Dexcom to track this is the Dex has a tendency to shriek/vibrate its head off anytime you're outside of the range so you really don't get a chance to wake up naturally from the dream. And there are certain safety features(under 55, over 400?) that even if you have the alarms off those safety alarms will still boot in.

Sometimes I turn the fan on high and put the dexcom under the bed so it won't wake me up but it will still read. For the most part, I have good internal cues to wake up when low but its not always right away. The dexcom will wake anyone up,(usually I put it under my pillow) but deciding whether to treat that (usually) high is another story altogether. It's best to be very, very conservative at an hour where you're so exhausted that a low is the last thing you need. Bottom line, I'm grateful for the chance to correct the situation before it gets out of hand..even if it does wake me up all night long some nights.

Are We There Yet?

I'm rather exhausted, the D-care well reflects that. Cannot wait till Wed..the grand final exam in psych and being free, free, free for the next 6 weeks. In the meantime, I have a quiz tonight(quizzes twice a week do not make for happy students) and a paper to improve upon. I think I'm just stuffing info into my brain just to have it come right back out the other side, I hardly remember the stuff we studied at the beginning of class. I do not have high hopes for this final,but I hope at least for a B.

Lately, the evening entertainment has been a grand post-supper drop-a-thon, usually with still 1-2 units onboard. So I treat with junkfood and 30 minutes later I'm 40-60 and diving into the tabs/juice. A couple hours after that, it spikes, drops, spikes, drops all on its own. Overnight basal rates would take hourly checks to figure out, and I'm too tired for that. Whoever thinks that an overnight blood sugar(with the proper basal rates) is largely a creature of containment is sadly mistaken. Went to bed 120, woke up 144 but during that time I spiked to mid 200's twice, spent an hour near 70, another hour near 80-90, finally evening out to 140's.(which I woke up to) That's gonna take some time to figure out.
I gotta get back in the game, stop eating junkfood/exercise more. Maybe when this class ends.

Weeding out the Wardrobe

It's a sad fact that approximately 3/4 of my casual shirts collection is diabetes themed.

-4 FFL tshirts, emblazoned with the names of every major D sponsor out there.
-2 JDRF walk tshirts, again, emblazoned with the names of D sponsors.
-A blue "MiniMed" shirt, lettering in white. Not overtly screaming the "hey, I'm
diabetic!" label (most people don't know what Minimed was) but still diabetes
themed.
-A weird pump pack shirt, from back in the Minimed days.
- A "I run on Insulin" tshirt.
- A "Test, Don't Guess" D-Life promo tshirt.
It's safe to say, that I'll be acquiring several more next more(at the upcoming FFL conference). I never set out to be the diabetic billboard child but I guess at least some of the time, I am. (I do wear some of them out in public) I can't just throw them out, they're perfectly good shirts.(not until they wear out) Sometimes I wish they would though, so I could have a more "normal" wardrobe.
I do like this one though..

(from CafePress)

Can't get away from the D..it will haunt you just opening up your dresser drawer!

My "Twin" Blog

For some reason, when I typed in my blog url this morning it kept bringing me here... Eventually, I had to backtrack through someone else's blog roll.(to get here)

Extremely weird, I was under the impression Blogger doesn't recycle url's. But its almost the exact same one(minus the www).
10:17 am, and I feel the need for a strong drink coming on. Too, too weird.

The Case of the Serial Coke Spiller

Dear Abby,

I have a re-occurant problem, I spill my diet coke everywhere. It's not limited to just 12 oz cans either- today, I dumped an entire liter all over the floor in CVS, inconveniencing the shoppers/staff as the river was being dealt with. In the past, I've also dumped my can all over the doctor's office exam room carpet(instantly invoking the executive decision by the doctor to never again let patients and their drinks, into the exam room). I just can't stop drinking my diet coke, please help!!!!

Hopelessly Addicted & Clumsy


Dear Addicted,

You're not alone, others are just as, or more, uncoordinated then you are. I'd suggest duct-taping a sippy cup when you're out in public, and NEVER unscrewing it.(until you've finished) In the meantime, you may want to consider getting help for your diet coke addiction-it's very unhealthy + with the amount of caffeine you're scruffing on a regular basis, it's not wonder you've got the dexterity of a two year old.

Abby

Meme Mosaic

My creation, originally uploaded by type1emt.

Didn't realize I was posting a very offensive picture, it was the first picture of Heidi Klum that I came across. My apologies, to anyone that I have offended, I didn't mean to.

More Notes from Psych Class

Overheard:

Professor: And in anorexia nervosa, the individual slowly wastes away until they-??

Student: Disappear?

I think the entire class cut loose on that one. Though in a sense that's correct, there's not much left of the individual even if they don't die. Diabetes and several other chronic diseases that make losing weight dangerously easy are powerful weapons, one that most physicians will never know about because even if you don't have diabulemia + to the best of your ability try to do it right, highs and elevated a1cs plague most of us.(so health care professionals can only guess) Unless the individual is made (self) aware of/gets help for their disorder things won't go very well for them.(even worse then normal eating disorders)

On Board Air Force One

For real. Maslow would call it a peak experience, and I heartily agree(it's not every day a Joe Blow gets to get so up close and personal with a piece of American history). This is the old Air Force One-the current one is twice as large + boasts a movie theater, gym, etc,etc..Obama or McCain have alot to look forward to. The old Air Force One was flown from 1974(Nixon) to Sep.8, 2001. (Bush) It was pretty cool, inside AF1 there was a communications center, presidents quarters, staff quarters, kitchen, press gallery, situation room, kitchen, and bathrooms at the back. Really, really long.(not very wide) Wanted to get inside pictures, but there were five security people on hand to make sure that wasn't happening. Oh well...got plenty of pics of the outside of the plane.
I highly recommend it, if you're ever at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library.

Across the Great Divide: The U.S. Open

How weird is it, when the hospital is located right next to the Torrey Pines golf course? Close enough to walk outside, across a parking lot, climb a fence, drop, and you're on the course?

Well, it happened. First day of the U.S.Open, zillions of cars trying to park on the hospital lot and hospital security going nuts/spitting bullets trying to keep people out. Identification was needed(appointment card)to park on the hospital lot. Bloodwork, transfusion, took about 7 hours. The oncologist comes in for about five minutes, answers a couple of questions and dissipeirs again. He is a jerk if I ever saw one.(got a real VIP complex going on there) The nurses/staff were great, fortunately. They were complete opposites
from the doc. Next week they will be doing more chemo and inserting a port-o-cath to make injections/draws/transfusions easier. Things seem to be staying the same right now in terms of blast count, it will take more chemo to see if it will work.

Right before leaving, we went out and watched some of the Open. Over 42,000 people a day attended, so it was a real beehive of activity. We didn't see Tiger but could hear the periodic OOOOOOOH's from the admiring, star-struck crowd when one of the favorite's in the threesome hit a good shot. And predictably, my cellphone had died so I couldn't even get any good pics.

Darn fence, wish I had been on the other side.

This One's for You, Dad

artist extroidenaire...and I hope you get some traffic off of this.(I really like how there's one page blank, waiting for the November winner)

Notes from a Spinning Planet: California Bound

Tomorrow, we fly to California, it's not a vacation..my husband's dad is really sick, he has acute lymphocytic leukemia complicated by the fact that a bone marrow transplant is out(age over 65)and his back(disks) is in rough shape + they can't do surgery for that because his platelet count is so low. Right now they are doing chemotherapy(Dacogen) injections and blood transfusions.(and strong painkillers)
Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers.

Speechless

My order of Cleo's arrived today. No more using Sils! and amazingly, Medco did not screw it up. I was getting ready to just buy them OOP and try to get reimbursed later on, low and behold my insurance then decides to cover them. No problems. I will never understand insurance companies.


And the other big news of the day..I've just had my fifth low of the day.(at 3 pm) 2 last night. I think the heat must be impacting my bgs big time.(it happens, sometimes, irregardless of the temperature outside but the heat is the only thing I can think of that may be triggering it) I think I need to start pumping glucagon, instead of insulin. Latest low occurred just 30 minutes after lunch.(with 3/4 of that insulin still on board) Hence the need to eat even more food. I'm waiting for that day when it absolutely refuses to come up and I have to go to the hospital, where they'll know absolutely nothing about D and of course, my endo will not be there to bail me out.(it'll be a weekend) My brain cells will be mush anyway, and I'll be lucky to get out of there alive.Handing over my control to clueless medical professionals is not always the best option.(off to eat B&J's, I'm not making sense, even to myself)

Weekend Renovations

How do I trim the size of my header? (specifically, the big ugly blank space to the right)

thanks, guys..

Notes from a Spinning Planet: Delaware (& Beyond)

A couple of weekends ago, I took a trip. It was really fun.. though quite torturous at times, as it was prime time yard sale weekend + I couldn't stop. (I stopped anyway, at about 4 out of 100+ that I drove by) I should have started earlier, so I could stop at more of them. Anyway, I did acquire a very nice croquet set for just $2... so it was worth stopping.



(you've read Allison's account of it..so I won't bore you with the details, but boy, it was fun!!) I really need to get a pair of sunglasses, but I don't spend much time outside. Hence the squinting.

A couple of days before the trip, I took my car in to get the air conditioning checked, they filled it up & checked for leaks. No way would have I survived the trip WITHOUT it, my car is like an oven. Well, a week later it had ceased to work (again). Took it in again..and evaporator or something is cracked. They'll have to take out the dashboard(an all day job) to replace it, at a total cost of $772.08. (plus tax)

Agggggggh my first car cost less then that! I've never, ever, EVER had a car bill like this, even with things overheating + smoking up a storm. Just WOW. I'm still in shock.. of course, its not imparitive that I replace it but the likelihood of surviving a summer without doing it isn't very high. No more road trips, till I can get this fixed.

Notes from a Spinning Planet: Psych 101

"I want to make one thing perfectly clear," the instructor continues, his eyes seemingly boring into every single one of ours, simultaneously. "If I see you texting during my class, you'll be asked to leave."

My insulin pump begins vibrating, reminding me of a post-meal bg check. I put my hand in my pocket and will it to shut up, be quiet, malfunction, something... You'd think a psychologist would be more understanding, not so rigid with the rules.

Next to go, is my Dexcom, it gives the high beep. Still postmeal, so I'm hoping the insulin just hasn't kicked in.

Half-time: 370. Either I underestimated the carbs, or my set is bad. I give a correction bolus.

An hour later, I check the Dex again. It's been HIGH for about 40 minutes, the bolus didn't do any good. BG check: 570. I'm so tired I just want to fall asleep at my desk but there's another hour of class to get through. Freud is twice as boring as usual, I wonder what his assessment of the situation would be. The repression of bodily functions leads to a state of post-traumatic stress in the individual with chronic illness..which triggers depression and the desire to guzzle gallons of diet coke and stay in bed for the next 24 hours. Perfectly normal, right?

And my brand new textbook has a backward cover, in another odd twist to the day. Going to be a very busy month, its an accelerated course(8 hours a week) and our first test is Wednesday. I just hope that the instructor doesn't tell me to leave when he sees me fooling with my pump, etc.(Yes, I can explain about the D, but I'm hoping that won't be necessary).

Tracked

Until today, I've never cried.(from it) Until today, the pain of a needle has never sent me over the edge. Until today, I have never witnessed the extreme callousness of someone who just doesn't give a flip + is just waiting till 5 PM and the end of a workday.

The needle was large(not 16 gauge, but large and entirely un-necessary for 3 lousy tubes of blood) and I was expecting a shock but not like that. The phlebotomist shoved it in very fast, and I've never felt that kind of paralyzing pain before. I've been tracked up on both arms for usable veins, I've given donations of blood many times, and I've had a few Arterial Blood Gases in my time. I've had IV's, and blown IVs. I've had gushers, and I've had sets hit nerves. None of them compared to this.

I dissolve-erupt into a fountain of tears, the phlebotomist grabs my arm roughly, slaps a band aid on it and tells me to have a nice day. Shows me the door. No apologies, no inquires as to whether I was ok. I think that that is what hurts the most, I understand people make mistakes(and I'm ok with that) but deliberately reeking physical and mental damage is extremely unprofessional. I guess I've just been extremely lucky, in that phlebotomists have always been polite, at the very least..they can't all be painless but all I really want is respect. I won't be going back to that facility, the bruise goes deep to my soul.