The Summer of Sixteen

Reading Kerri's post about LADA's, childhood onset, and all assorted in between made me think back to that summer of 1998(pre-diabetes). I have alot of prediagnosis memories,diet (anything)was a four letter word and something I never even considered following. I ate what I wanted,at regular meal times and in-between "snacks"wasn't something we did, if you were hungry you just tanked up at the meal.Rarely got sick,rarely went to a doctor, was pretty healthy. Chicken pox at 6(it was en vogue,we all had to go get infected and get it over with), Shingles at 14...and 2 years later my immune system kicked into high gear and the first insidious symptoms appeared. Thirst.Hunger. Moodyness. Ah, that moodyness, which my parents attributed to being a teenager, turned a sweet naive child into a raging hormonal, door-slamming maniac. I was ready for adulthood.(at least, in my mind) Adulthood=drivers lisence and piercings, so I took Drivers Ed and got the piercings.Ironically,the piercings were the only thing not to get infected(as I took good care of them). The summer progressed,along with the number of gray hairs on my parents head and my symptoms, which they could only see the outside forms of.I really don't think they understood how living with undiagnosed diabetes can make you act, nor would they still. It was an entire summer,fall,and beginning of winter before it would be diagnosed as diabetes.(May-December) That was the summer I started to grow up,people diagnosed younger must still have a partial responsibility but at that age you must take immeadiete ownership of it and not depend on your parents. My parents never gave me a shot, although they occasionally drew up doses/provided the carb counts at meals. It always felt like my disease, and not their responsibility. I am not saying that parents should not take care of their kids,but when the kid is almost an adult it needs to be the kid doing most/all of the management. So it is always prediabetes....and postdiabetes,a childhood that ended at 16. Before, when the functions of my body were not of mortal concern, and after, when everything had to be watched, monitored, and recorded. I was not the best teenager with diabetes(probably a fact of little surprise) but I survived,and now I think that when I got it,wasn't really such a bad time to get it. It is hard for parents to let go...and especially where diabetes is concerned. The best time to get it would probably be at age 86, when one has about 2 months remaining of life but rarely do things work out that way. Diabetes feels like a part of me but it doesn't feel like something that I've known forever because I haven't. I remember summer days with ice cream trucks and slurpees and winter sledding parties with hot cocoa/marshmallows galore/cookies/snacks with no carb counts/calories/dietary restrictions.I'm glad for those memories,not just for me but for my parents/those who know me because its harder on them sometimes then it is for the PWD. I still had to adjust to alot of things-food restriction was the biggest of them. For an adult with newly diagnosed diabetes,it must be very tough to change everything you've ever known.For a child, its really hard but it eventually becomes the norm.Thats why many older type 2's just don't get it...they are so used to their eating habits that changing them is unthinkable. As a teenager I fought food restriction tooth and nail but eventually came to terms with it(getting a pump really, REALLY helped). Now it is all so normal that if there were to be a cure for diabetes tomorrow,I think it would take decades of therapy to stop thinking like a PWD.(if there is a cure, the support group meetings will no doubt turn into that!)

Goodbye, ER

Parting is such sweet sorrow...you were the(at one time) best. At least the finale was a knock-your-socks off affair. I'll miss it, the newer shows just haven't withstood the test of time like this classic.
(And now, it belongs to the ages)

Out of the Blue

There are places in this world that clearly, are a very bad idea to go low at.

In the middle of a lake....(one example)

It's been a week of firsts, I've gotten low at two brand-new places. First, at the movie theater. I have never gotten low there and I've been to quite a few movies in the 10.5 years I've had diabetes. (usually high, or barely not high)Bolused too aggressively for the popcorn. Fortuantly, I had juice and gel and was able avoid stumbling down the stairs in search of a sugary drink.It was an emotional low too, and as soon as the theater cleared I let it all out as I'd also lost my hat and it was all too much to handle.We were with some friends, so by the time my husband came back to see where I was, the glucose was back up to 73, the hat was found, and I was ready to be drug off the the Food Court to drown my sorrows in Diet Coke/Chinese food. Thankfully, nothing involving strangers and 911 calls.

The second, was at my dentists. Novocaine is another one of those drugs that pretty solidly seals the 200+ mg/dl post-session numbers but...

"Aheeock?"

"Yes, Heidi?"

(theme music from Karate Kid I is playing softly in the background while the dentist debates his assistant on whether or not Michael J.Fox's wife is really going to leave him.I like my dentist's office + my dentist(just not being there)

"Ahedoheckaheudoooah!"

"What?" he inquires, withdrawing a tortuous looking implement from my mouth.

"I think I'm low and I need to check my blood sugar."

"Go ahead." He patiently waits.

68.

"Yes I'm low I gotta drink juice, sorry!!"

"It's ok, do what you have to do."

Down goes the juice, here comes another cavity! (but I guess dentists have seen it all)

It really goes to show you can't ever just mentally check out and assume you're safe from a low, those lows can come from anywhere and everywhere and you've always got to be on the lookout, check/treat promptly, so they don't turn into major affairs.

Stalking the Wild Blood Sugar

In the medical field, the common diseases are referred to as "horses" and the not-so-common-ones, "zebras". Diabetes is of course, about as as equine as you can possibly get- but the lines do blur sometimes.

Is it type 1?

Is it type 2?

Is it type Halle Berry?

Is it gestational?

Or is it secondary to something else, and transiet?

Periodically, my blood sugars go off on a wild tangent, and nothing gets them up. Nothing. Everyone gets this sometimes(due to exercise, illness, etc)but I've yet to figure out exactly what prompts mine to go off. The last time, lasted two weeks. Two weeks of averaging about 5-8 units a day and still having lows.(usually use between 20-27U/day) It hasn't ever lasted that long so I asked my endo about it, their response was type 1's can periodically produce some insulin and studies really haven't been done to see why sets that off but glucose is very toxic/supressing to the islets and thats probably why it doesn't happen more often.(with me,given my less then perfect control) So I asked about checking my cpeptide the next time it happens and they said they could do that. It'll be interesting to see what exactly this pancreas of mine is up to.
If I understood that...what makes it go off,maybe there is something I can do to help those little spurts of whackyness toward excellent control. I would love to take so little insulin on a regular basis,it makes hypos less likely, the a1c better,life so much better. I do not think they have type 1's with residual insulin production take pills(thats for type 1's/2's with insulin resistance)and I wouldn't want to take them even if offered. But having a steady cpeptide would be a great thing.(every bit helps) This occasional zebra of mine might be unpredictable, but I'd take that over the regular horse (fill in the blank) any day.

A V-Log of Three Insulin Pumps

And if it sounds like I've got a bug in my throat, its because I do. Strep throat, to be more precise. Hopefully I will get better at this vlog thing,thoughts more collected + not sounding like an adolescent squawker.(and hopefully the drugs will start doing their thing soon)Strep sucks.

Dancing with the Stars

(3/22/09)


Ebay star color changes are neat, here's the scale:

Yellow star () = 10 to 49 ratings
Blue star () = 50 to 99 ratings
Turquoise star () = 100 to 499 ratings
Purple star () = 500 to 999 ratings
Red star () = 1,000 to 4,999 ratings
Green star () = 5,000 to 9,999 ratings
Yellow shooting star () = 10,000 to 24,999 ratings
Turquoise shooting star () = 25,000 to 49,999 ratings
Purple shooting star () = 50,000 to 99,999 ratings
Red shooting star () = 100,000 to 499,000 ratings
Green shooting star () = 500,000 to 999,999 ratings
Silver shooting star () = 1,000,000 ratings or more

Fairly certain I will never get to a shooting star-it took me 7.5 years just to get to 1000 feedback. And most of the transactions you do, you have to beg for and still don't receive any fb. Which makes any fb you do get twice as valuable.
My feedback score is excellent, only 1 negative. For as much as I may complain about certain individuals who have no business owning a credit card much less being let loose with one on Ebay, I've gotten a good many wonderful deals over the years.
(like a roundtrip ticket that would have cost me over $900,for only $50 and it was at the local airport only a mile from my house, thus saving me 5 hours of driving time and lots of sleep!)

Attack of the Carbs

I luuvvveee the Doughboy, my first vlog is probably going to be some drama about the PD, the plateful of evil carbohydrates + the powerless PWD. Which, now that its spring break, I have time to work on. Stay tuned!

Planet Diabetes: Survival: Hospital

(a Dlife video on this subject)

Monday evening the husband and I went to a D-talk entitled "Being Insulin Dependent in the Hospital." Not that unusual,I mean, there are many such topics of conversation being revisited all around the country, ad nauseum, at various pump group meetings. This place...was at a location I've never been to(some other D-group, not pump specific) and the guest speaker was a type 1 endocrinologist himself. With such a resume I could hardly NOT go, it was like being written a blank check to the secrets of the universe. (or at least to the hospital) I needed the hubby to come with me because #1 he was interested and #2 he's been to the general location and can therefore find the place much better then myself. Finding out what makes a hospital + the rulers therein tick would be more then beneficial in the future. Plus I figured I could get some questions of my own answered...beyond the generic "you may want to change x-y-z" material.

The meeting room was small..and decidedly packed with PWD of all sorts and sizes. After the "Hi, I'm x and I've had diabetes for x years"(personally referring to myself as a diabetic still leaves an incredibly sour taste in my mouth and I rarely do it) intros the endocrinologist, sporting a Dexcom and Ping pump(bonus points for him!) launched right into the discussion.




The meeting lasted about 2 hours and was not boring at all. Riveting talk/discussion, despite one or two individuals periodically launching off on some completely irrelevant topic then the one on hand which one couldn't exactly prevent/say something about because we're all there to support each other and sit through 10 minute rants on insurance not covering lancets.(for real-who complains about that??there are so much more worthy things to complain about) If you have a guest speaker, I think its pretty rude NOT to keep the questions to the topic of discussion. But anytime you have a physician and laypeople you are going to get
someone reciting their entire medical history as they ask their question. Everyone suffers through it.
And I managed to learn some stuff:

-you always have the right to refuse the sliding scale and stay on the pump but if you're going into emergency surgery just give it up and resume when able. Emergency surgery, you should just shut up and be grateful if you make it out alive.(plus they tend to give some real whack-you-out drugs in emergency surgery) Elective surgeries...ALWAYS insist on pumping and if the surgeon doesn't like it find a new surgeon. In the ICU they check bgs so often that being on a insulin drip is the best way to go because you're drugged up and not able to make insulin decisions. Sliding scale anywhere=EVIL and under no circumstances should you be on one because its given according to the staff's schedule, not to your needs. People die of hypoglycemia IN THE HOSPITAL on a regular basis, and you sure don't want to be that person. Give insulin, recheck patient 6 hours later and they are dead because lunch was an hour late and they were too out of it to eat their lunch. Get the doc to write testing orders every 2-4 hours,or whenever necessary.

-most surgeons are not sadistic hellions intent on inflecting as much inconvenience as possible, they are just uninformed. So says an endocrinologist. Um-I think I'll have to take a rain check on that one, guess I haven't yet met the "nice" type of surgeon.

-Always bring your own lancing device(+ meter) ,never consent to their gullitine near your fingers. Much less painful with own lancing device.

-saw several graphs documenting the 6x rate of complications/death from 200+ post operative bgs, even in people who don't have diabetes. (steroids can do marvelous things to the bg) Freaky scary.


Bolused about five times that evening, bgs remained stuck in the mid 200's.It always makes me feel guilty, being at a D meeting and being high(as a pumper you should have the problem licked in about 1.5 hours) Definably need a basal overhaul. He also talked about all the changes they've made to their program and I was impressed(the power of a type 1 endo in bringing about REAL change for all the PWD in the hospital. They are going to have studies of intravenous CGM's in ICU patients.(since that is the most frequent setting for extreme hypoglycemia). The takeaway message was...communicate with the caregivers, call your endo if need be(doesn't work, but nice in theory),advocate for the basics of care. Because you're worth it.

The Melanoma

Sometimes, it's just a mole on your back.

(I have a couple...let's just leave it at that. You don't want to see them)

And sometimes, it's a Melanoma.

(from:http://www.dermatology.org/)

Diabetes is my melanoma right now. Spreading into every waking and non-waking moment. Always there, silently demanding, yet giving back nothing in return.
I have never had cancer, thank goodness, but I have seen what it can do to people's spirits as well as their bodies. Psychologically it is really hard.(worse then D,I think)
I have to say, running to the CDE/Endo for fresh ideas makes the lag even worse sometimes. Let's get even MORE intense about something you're already 100% (immersed/sick and tired of) in!

Growing, growing,growing until the weight of the world is on your shoulders. As much as I'd like to obtain that stellar a1c instantly there are issues that will not be solved immeadiently(it took 10 years to make them and its not going to take 3 months to unmake them) and sometimes its too much. I need to feel like something other then a diabetic. I need to let it just be the mole on the back again...and not read,breathe,talk,sleep,live diabetes 24/7. And that might take the form of not posting on this blog or other D-sites as often. I cannot "stop" the basics of care but I can slack off in other areas to regain that "I'm something other then a collection of pancreatic cells run amuck" sense of well being.

Change

Twenty dollars and eight-four cents.

That's the cost of diabetes on a daily, preventative basis.(supplies, low treatments, etc,ballpark figure for me...)

I got this bottle in January, as part of our church's fund drive to assist a pregnancy center. Coming off a raw recent emotional high of that very subject I wasn't sure if I could look at it without bawling so I put my spare change in another jar and planned to transfer it to the bottle when the time came.

But something happened in a month and a half. The bottle came to mean more then what could have been. It came to represent what can be.(maybe there's a chance for even me)

Change. I can change, I can do battle with my a1c to knock it down under 7. I can drag myself to the gym on a regular basis, I can stop inhaling junk food for breakfast/lunch/and supper and make it more of the exception, rather then the rule. Its still hard but when I look at that baby bottle sitting on my dresser I'm reminded that it's oh-so-worth-it. I couldn't give up that bottle now for anything, I wrote a check to the pregnancy center. They helped me without even knowing they did so.

It's not to large a price to pay for the rest of one's life...change can be a good thing. Every bit helps.

Of iPhones and iApprovals

Final day of the month...and I feel the need to write something, however unprofound that something might be. Finally got to go on the grandest of sprees Wednesday, ending up with this:


Of course, they don't sell Iphones at Office Depot but they do sell $200 Amex gcs...and Itunes gcs. OD reward certificates can be used to purchase any type of gift card. Best Buy was running a deal(of sorts-$50 off for Reward Zone members) and the prepaid mastercards can be used for anything.(actual purchase plus bills)Signing another 2 year commitment(just did one for the gym..ugh) was not a particular joyous occasion, but I have wanted an iphone forever...and my current cellphone contract will soon expire. I am rather attached to my old number, I've had it ever since I've had a cellphone and giving it up is going to be a very painful grieving process. But having 2 running contracts makes no sense whatsoever.(even if the iphone and the first two bills are free!) And I've got another cellphone that's prepaid(it was a gift) so I'm like rolling in cellphones right now!

I'm not sorry I did it...the iphone rocks, on so many levels. Not having to find a wifi hotspot, being able to use any application at any time is just great. I love my iphone!

D-wise, its been low after low after low. Got my approval letter from my insurance(sensors) and the sensors were mailed out Thurs. of this week. Haven't gotten them yet...hopefully will be here Monday. I'm of the opinion that taking in more fast-acting carbs and getting the bg down later(if you overshoot the mark) is better then eating/drinking 15 carbs...eating another 15 carbs..eating yet another 15 carbs...I could spend my entire life waiting for my bg to come up, with that method. Since I'm having so many I just go for the big guns(40-60 carbs) right away,and it works well. Until the next low. I need to majorly overhaul everything (basals and boluses),day and night they're causing lows. It's not really because of the exercise...because I only work out about 3 hours a week. Hopefully bgs will go back to normal soon.

Signs of the Times

Dear idiot student(s):

So its over. I'm over that. I wish nothing but the best for our new president, and I hope my feelings of doom/and gloom don't turn out to be the case.

But I still have a right to MY own personal political views and if I want to have a bumper sticker that says 1/20/2013- Change We Can Believe In- it is my personal right as an American. You may not like it, but there was no need to put that displeasure into action and decorate my car in such a immature manner.

Ice, coke, and ketchup. Wow- you really take the cake. Forgive me for not finding it funny (maybe one day I will). Right now it just feels like an invasion of the freedoms I took for granted. Luckily for you, the only thing right now handy to take it out on is my meter(I think I'll try Joe S's trick of running over one).

Sincerely,

A fellow (more intelligent, tolerant) student

Circle of Willies

Disclaimer:

I am a control freak. Or at least,I try to be. Not in the sense of my blood sugar never goes above 150 post-meal..more like, I don't trust anyone else besides my cde/endocrinologist to be making suggestions about my D-care. Especially not the local community hospital, and even at University hospitals it can be touch and go as to whether you'll get good care. Unless you have a pumper doc/nurse or someone who knows about pumps.(not very likely)

There's something I haven't quite figured out yet, and its a subject that's discussed even less frequently among doctor/patients then "How's your sex life?" (which is a question I'm not likely to be getting for 30+ more years anyway)

What you have the rights to, D-wise, in surgery or in the hospital. Some surgeons literally demand that you must go off your pump and onto whatever system they've got and some are ok with you staying on your pump. And I've done it both ways, scared stiff to refuse. Because, well, the last general surgeon intent on slicing into my intestinal blockage probably wouldn't have understood if I'd have talked myself blue and though they're quite good at what they're doing they tend to have a mindset that one insulin regimen fits all. Between the language barrier and that,I didn't dare refuse. (fortunately it didn't come to that)On the other hand, the vascular surgeon(port surgery) was ok with me being on the pump. It's a surgeon lottery. I can understand during long, complex surgeries the need to have some control over the situation but with an IV in there anyway they could have access to sending it up or down if the numbers strayed too far. I am easily correctable.

So I think I need some sort of plan. Something that can be given to any future physician who doesn't know much about pumping. I think that would help them see that I'm not the type of patient who will go low on just the basal rate if not doing anything(more like high). (to alleviate fears) I still don't know whether I've got the rights to refuse without them refusing to keep me as a patient. I have hopes that one day..when I'm around 40 or so insulin pumps will be more accepted and the young physicians of today will be the older, experienced physicians who know all about it. The younger physicians, they speak Pumpese "What's your ISF? TDD? Insulin/carb ratio?" while the older ones could care less. As a patient, I feel more connected to someone who shows knowledge about D rather then someone who skirts around the issue. I have D, it is a part of me and it needs to enter the conversation at some point.

The hospital is enough of a place for med mixups/infections/nervous breakdowns as it is. Bright lights. Loud noises. Demented, agitated roommates. Uncomfortable beds. Food menus that make no sense(lots of carbs but no "sugar") and have no nutrional information. Constant streams of people, day and night. Blood leechings. Tests that take forever on cold hard tables and make you miss meals. Endless reruns of "MASH". Waiting all day for the doc to come in to tell you you can't go home that day. Friend/relative visits that awkwardly end as you fall facefirst into your cream of wheat on a medication trip. Lots of decisions, much of which won't happen because its all relative to what the doctor decides when he gets around to it. As for diabetes control, good luck with that, you are on your own. At least on the pump you are not hypoing constantly, you have some control over the situation. Whereas with sliding scales you are pretty much stuck.(haven't been on one in 9 years and don't intend to be)

Some more thoughts on the situation...(Dec.2006)

I wish there were a facility in which only D's(or friends, family members) worked..everything would be done with the D taken into consideration and pumps would be the rule, rather then the exception. Better attention to D translates to better bgs equals shorter stays and improved outcomes.

The One on the Right

There once was a musical troupe
A swinging, rhyming folk group
They sang non-traditional ballads
In a never-ending loop
They were great with alliterative allegories
And charming,mildly interesting stories
But diabetical incompatibilitys
Led to their downfall.

Well, the one on the right was
Tight with Animas
And the one in the middle was
Not in any "pumping" rush
While the one on the left was
Having a major Medtronic crush
And the guy in the rear...Burned his Medical Alert.

This musical aggravation
Toured the D-Life communes
Singing non-traditional ballads
In the oddest, weirdest tunes.

They performed with great virtuosity
And soon, they were a hit(surpassing even the Jonas Brothers!)
But diabetical incompatibilities
Finally made them split.

Cuz' the one on the right had a
5.5 a1c while the one in the middle was 8.4
the one on the left was 7.2
and the guy in the rear...could care less.

When the curtain finally rose
On their season's biggest show
The D-folk watched in anticipation
To see their latest, weird creation.
But they all forgot their meters
And that led to quite a scene
No longer friendly greeters
These charming folks turned mean.

The one on the right was
Really high, while the one in the middle was
Feeding him pie.
The one on the left was the one who
Really needed that pie
While the guy in the rear...was dialing 911.

Now this should be a lesson
If you plan to PWD messin'
Don't go mixing pumpers
With the politics of the D
Just work on getting along
No more messy spiels
And if they're slightly in the wrong
It's not a major deal.

Now the one on the left
writes a blog while the one in the middle
Went back to Lantus.
the one on the right just ran a marathon
And the guy in the rear..went back to school and became a CDE.
(there's always hope for the rebels)

A Valentine's Weekend Dozen

#1
(gift from my very sweet husband)

#2 A workout at the Love Triangle. I call it that, because it has my doctor's office, the gym, and CVS in the same general area so whatever you need, you're covered! (injured, hop on over to docs and pick up RX at CVS). Only I always end up going across the street to McDonalds and stuffing my face because workouts make me incredibly hungry and there's just no way I'm going to pay $5.99 for a "Rejuvenating Fruit Smoothie."

#2 An hour long wait to The Pasta Place because the place didn't take reservations. Sigh. It was good though, awesome Italian carby goodness that was well worth the insulin. No candlelight, but it was dim enough in there to qualify as being in the Twilight Zone anyway.

#3 A Visit to the William Paca House.(signer of the Declaration of Independance) We've visited Montpelier-Monticello-Mt.Vernon but this was quite different from them, this was primarily a show house and living in the city of Annopolis they didn't have to be so self-sufficient as the Virginia hicks did.


#4 Going to meet Cara at a chain restaurant called Eggspectations. She was up here visiting a friend, and her friend and friend's (8 month old? correct me if I'm wrong) kiddo were along. Her godson was having a "Mohawk Hair Day" + was an absolute knock-out, cute as could be. Should work in his favor when he does get to be a teenager! She treated us all to lunch.(that's REAL Tennessean hospitality!) We talked D-stuff, non D-stuff, and walked around in the Artic Blast, visited another shop and then they went home. She's pretty cool.(and we have the same type of camera!)

(and I just noticed the creepy guy staring out the window...weird)

#5 Getting a $25 gc/purchase of a new RX coupon from CVS...because they're incredibly rare and its great timing, the beginning of the year always brings horrendous copays and every little bit helps.

#6 Semi-annual cleaning of the diamond ring...and having the Zales salesperson semi-cuss-me-out. " X-Y-Z, this is so dirty! How did it get that way?" Ok, its dirty, that's why I'm here, to have it cleaned. Neither her language nor her tone was appropriate to lambast a customer with. My husband didn't pay good money to have me treated that way. I was slightly peeved, I don't think I've ever been cussed out by a salesperson before.(not even when I should have been!)

#7 Playing games at Dave & Busters.. its such a fun place and I could totally spend the rest of my life in there.

#8 Studying for microbiology test #1(lecture). Ack, ack, ack.(now behind me)

#9 Wondering if this will be the week that A. my sensor coverage comes through and B. my Office Depot gift card arrives and I'll be able to get my longed-for Iphone.

#10 Reading poems of yesteryear + thinking, wow, was I ever so young and clueless back then,I thought the pump would solve everything.

#11 Semi-Annual Stuffing at the Golden Corral. Every time I go there, I gain five pounds.(hence it is good that we only go 2x a year)

#12 Downloading my Valentine's Day Ipod Playlist:
1. How do I love her-Steven Curtis Chapman
2. I'm yours
3. Sincerely Yours- Petra
4. Head over Heels- 4HIM
5. LOVE-Nat King Cole (?)
6. When You're Loved- Debbie Boone
7. All you need is Love- The Beatles
8. I Walk the Line- Johnny Cash
9. Because of You-Reba McIntire
10. Cleaning this Gun-Rodney Atkins
11. Testify to Love- Avalon
12. I'm not gonna write you a love song- Sara Bareilles

From Endo, With Love

I'm not sure how it happened, but...

My a1c has gone down. By 0.8. Which puts me exactly where I was last year at this time.
(in the 8's, which is much better then the 9's). I'm feelin' the buzz from that, its moving in the right direction.(at least)

The rest of the appt. was fairly unproductive, my endo doesn't much like Pings(they're rather difficult to get the basals and TDD from + the meters read 40+ higher then the Ultra) and discussing my major hurdle toward better bgs...my fear of humongous boluses even when I know I need it. Because when I crash from one of them,it is a major crash + not pretty. I would rather square wave something then bolus it all up front,and sometimes you need everything up front.(like for cereal)If I have my Dex on,I'm not as afraid to do large boluses but because approval/paperwork for sensors has been stuck in insurance land since the beginning of Jan. I don't have that safety guard. The main reason my a1c has come down is because of my overnights, which have been pretty rock-solid awesome for the past few months.

Paperwork to get yearly bloodwork...a refill rx. Hey insurance, please hurry up with that paperwork, I need those sensors!

And that question, which popped up once again- "When are you planning to have kids?"
I didn't tell her what happened last month, and I'm not sure it would have done any good(not info she needs to know unless A. I stay pregnant or B.it happens more then once) When do I plan to have kids...probably never. Don't want to be told what I already know.(a1c must be in optimal range or that could be a major reason in miscarriages)

But all in all, it wasn't a total disaster + its good that I went.

The Happy Microbiologist

I have white coat syndrome.

Yeah, there's the normal kind...where you're sitting in the docs office, heartrate/blood pressure skyrocketing and your bg getting the maximum glycogen-glucose conversion possible.(this will occur on Friday, when I'm waiting for the results of my fingerstick a1c + a subsequent endo appt.)

But I also have another kind of white coat syndrome, the type where you feel like hot stuff(perhaps I should call it the MD syndrome). Microbiology is FUN,(quick, how many carbohydrates in an Agar dish?) and wearing a white coat propels one off on a quite intoxicating power trip. No wonder many docs act like complete dictator jerks.

There's also another pumper at my lab table so if either one of us starts eating Agar it will be clear to the other one what's going on.
I think I'll be taking a picture and putting it on my Twitter profile because wow, I look good in a white coat. Really, really good.

Rappin'

My Wedding Processional

(it's frustrating that I can't embed the video in my blog..and this is the ONLY YouTube video that really captures the grandness of the moment.)Just envision a large church...majestic organ music(sans the "how do you solve a problem like Heidi" vocals), a crowd about 1/100 the size of the one in the movie and you've got it.
"Here comes the Bride" is not nearly as thrilling as this is.(in my humble opinion) Every time I hear it I want to bawl.

Redefining Wellness

I'm probably not the right person to be writing this, it should be coming from some brainiac phd researcher who's done extensive studies on the role of a positive attitude in chronic disease. And I know I'm not that, half the time...

Regardless, here are my thoughts on the matter. I was reading an article in Time magazine where the author put forth the idea that perhaps its not the absence of disease that makes us healthy, its having the stamina/will to overcome the stuff our body throws at us. Very intriguing idea..and the author should know.(if anyone does) Recipient of a horrid disease at 15, a liver transplant at 22, a colon transplant at 25, and another liver transplant at 29, she hasn't been told she epitomizes the picture of health in quite a long time. But what is healthy? she runs several times a week, has a job, and doesn't let it get in the way of what she wants to do.(she merrily works in the other stuff). One tough cookie.
By that definition, maybe I've got it in me to live longer...it had a bizzaringly cheering-up effect upon me. The human body can withstand a great deal of wear,tear, and abuse before it finally flops out. You've got things you can control, and things you can't, and wellness isn't just about being blessed with perfect health-much of wellness is in the individual's hands. I went to the gym today..first time in a LONG time. Started out at 175. Ended at 138.(because I am sensitive, I usually remove my pump for exercise) As I went through the effects of exercise upon a very out-of-shape body, I was glad for one thing...that at least I knew what it was doing to my blood sugar, my heart rate, everything else. Versus the spandex-clad ultra athletes running next to me who probably don't even know where the energy "crash" comes from. I guess diabetes is good for something. Keeping the body in homeostasis is not an easy job, but its definatly worth it. As Johann Goethe said,"From disease I have learned much, that life could not have taught me any other way," and I would conclude that from disease, I've learned to cherish what wellness truly is.

The Eye of the Storm

Snow is coming down. Real white stuff, flying thick and furious. Of course it came at the absolute best time...yesterday I drove down to my eye exam, not thinking that it would do anything today. (it NEVER does)


Like most eye exams,I was in there over three hours(par for the course), they refuse to put my married name on there(I've also been trying to fix that for 1+ years). I think I'll just give up at some point. Visual fields, resident with his medical student in tow. Nice enough, and had a last name that could actually be pronounced/remembered. Dilation. Comment about my lack of perfect control,which I tuned out. Back out to waiting room. Back in again. Bright lights, more drops.


"Hmmmmm-ummmm-hmmmmm-lookright-look left--look up===look down---hmmmm"

"They don't look too bad."

"WHAT?WHAT does that mean? No proliferative or nonproliferative damage????"

"No diabetes changes."

Sigh of relief. Another test, the Hess test. That measures the amount of double vision, and that has changed slightly since the last visit. Recheck in 6 months.

Came home today...in slushy junk/traffic jams(4 hours drive) and had to go straight to microbio lab(1 pm, was late to boot) because they DIDN'T CANCEL school. Stupid.(the entire world is shutting down and they don't). First major snow.

The Four Freedoms: Freedom From Fear

"We have nothing to fear, but fear itself..." Franklin D. Roosevelt


Fear is a very powerful emotion-it certainly helps to have tools to be able to keep the biggie fear(hypoglycemia) at bay. As well as all the other fears diabetes conjures up. We are fortunate to have an emergency medical system in this country, as much as it is a paralyzing, numbing experience it has saved the lives of countless PWD's and is really better then the alternative.
(having said that, Roosevelt obviously didn't have diabetes although polio must suck pretty bad too)

Jolt

When they called the first time, it was beyond belief, drop-you-dead in your tracks unbelievable. And I didn't believe it, I used the word "impossible" twice in the resulting dialogue.

And then they called the second time, and the emotions of time #1 rose and plummeted to the deepest depths. I didn't say "that's impossible." I didn't say much of anything, because the rollarcoaster ride was just too much.

I am angry. Angry at diabetes. Angry that I can't just have a normal life and have kids, have a career, have a life.

I had a miscarriage last week. Not that I was aware of it, by the time I knew I was
I'd been whammied by abdominal pains/period(check, for 2.5 weeks late) and a few days later, well, I wasn't.(plummeted hcg levels) Yes, I use birth control. (for years, people) That apparently, doesn't always work(why NOW?) and add diabetes and what chance did anything have of making it. I know my diabetes isn't in good enough control for a baby. So why do these things happen? Seems like a pwd can't do anything without risk. I've got so many mixed up emotions, I don't know how you're supposed to deal with something like this. I didn't want to be pregnant but when I learned I was I would have continued it. It's something that never occured to me..that you could get pregnant on bc. Maybe my control caused it, maybe it was something else. Really, I'm not sure I could survive a D pregnancy but I'd do my best.(I do want to be a parent someday but I always thought it'd be by adoption)

All I know is, I need to do better on my D-control. That, or get my tubes tied.
(apologies for the graphicness of the post)

1/20/09

The Ten Things I didn't Learn in Class

Annual Physical- hahahahaha
No Simple Sugars- vital to the treatment of every low????
Max Heart Rate- the 3 AM hypo
Complex Carbohydrate- anything that requires a diabetes PHD to figure out the carb/bolus timing for
Muscular Endurance- carting 'round the diabetes suitcase all day
My Pyramid- chocolate, 10% of total caloric intake for the day
Stress Management- temper control with the diabetes police
Fiber- sugar free chocolate will do the same thing...
Blood Pressure- automatically elevated at endo's office(if you're going to have an MI it's a very good place to do it)
Reversibility- tendency of the less-then-hard-core-committed pwd's a1c to drift above 8. (or 9, 10, etc..)


Final Exam tonight!!!!!!!!!!(hurray!) For as informative as the class was, much of the information was decidedly not targeted to the PWD. Making me feel like I was just visiting from another planet, and do most Earthlings really just go to the doctor once a year(or whenever they're sick)? I was sufficiently brainwashed to want to step up the exercise stuff, although I think that if hardcore exercisers had to count carbs/track bgs/make basal adjustments/everything else they would cure them of their obsessement over calories, etc. Numbers drive me nuts.

The Food Nazi Class

So I'm taking a 3 credit course, nicely jammed packed into 2 weeks. 2-3 quizzes, 2 tests, 1 paper, 5 homeworks, and 1-20 minute presentation is my lot-4 hours a night, five times a week. Insane.(but I digress)

The instructor(personal trainer) is a real food Nazi, if there ever were one.She let it be known(on the first night of class) that she so much as spotted a French Fry being consumed she'd tell us to dump the junk food in the trash can, it would not be permitted in her course. Five foot 5 inches of lean,mean muscle(not a scrap of fat on her body) and she wears really tight clothes so you can see all that muscle.

The cast of characters:

-muscle building guy(think Doug Burns, minus the hair)
-nose ring guy(in very back)
-half the class sits in the very back...
-political guy, who is extremely motivated and says he's running for President some day
-person in front of me-who is taking TWO two week classes, plus working(now I feel lazy)
-the rest of us, who just want to get on with our lives

It's a nutrition/fitness class, so I guess she kind of has a right to make the rules but if I'm ever low and drinking a juice/eating something and she berates me you can bet I will let her have it.

"Would you rather I passed out from low blood sugar? Excuse ME for having diabetes."

Something I would generally NEVER announce to the entire class,
but if she embarrassed me you can bet I'd embarrass her.
And there are no bathroom breaks/breaks during the whole class so you can bet the food choices will be viewed/analyzed by the entire class. It's rather annoying.

I've never given a 20 minute oral presentation on ANYTHING, and the last time I did give one was 7 years ago. That was around 5 minutes. And mine, is due next Tuesday.
Aughhhhhhhh.(and its not on diabetes...its on hemachromitosis. Diabetes is pretty boring, right now)

Back to the Past

Once upon a time, in the faraway country of Ignorance, there lived a mouse. A very cute mouse, who owned humongous ears and a cheesy little grin that would make even the biggest car lover grant a pardon to the little guy and find another meal for Fido.


But this isn't about a mouse.(although he will reappear)


No, this is about a teenage girl, a rich socialite snob who lived in a NYC penthouse with her workaholic CEO parents and a bratty little brother who most definatly should have been in a military boarding school somewhere. But I'm getting ahead of myself...this is her story, and she should be telling it.

-----

I chug down yet another cherry pepsi, attempting to put stop breaks on my unquenchable thirst.

"Give it a rest, wontcha? " my 10-year-old-brat of a brother says, unceremoniously dumping his backpack on the living room carpet. "The toilets are going to go on strike."

"Haha, very funny.Where's my mouse?"

"Still at school-we're gonna dissect him and you'll never see him again. Say, isn't that number six?" he asks incredulously, as I chuck the can toward the recycling bin and head toward the fridge for another one. "Leave me one, can't you?"

Brothers-such a HUGE pain. I'd argue, but I'm so tired I'd much rather sleep. I slam my bedroom door, set my ipod to shuffle "A Little Bit Longer," ad nauesum and drift off to sleep, intent on catching a few ZZ's before starting my homework.

There's a siren in my dreams, piercing and loud but I can't seem to wake up. Soooo
tired.
-------

"Wake up, Jenny, wake up," my mom is crying, and that's really not like her. So I oblige, to find tubes and wires crisscrossing my body like one of my brother's mutant science experiments.

"Oh hon- you have diabetes!"

"No, I do not," I croak from the depths of my drier-then-dirt voicebox. "What happened, why am I here?"

"You got diabetes, your blood sugar was 1400 and you've been in here for two days..."

To make a long story short, I'm kept in for another week and taught to be a good little diabetic. Except I'm not. The best pediatric endocrinology team in the country cannot make me that.

And a insulin pump? Well, of course I have one, my parents practically donated the medical center into existance and every administrator/doc in that place fell all over themselves to provide me with only the best. President-elect Obama doesn't get all the perks that we do.

But it doesn't change the fact that I dislike all the rules of diabetes, and no one at all understands what I have to do on a daily basis just to keep tickin'. Sometimes I get so tired of it, like the night I decided not to reconnect to my pump(post shower),I was still in honeymoon phase anyway so nothing would happen. Drift off to LaLa land again.
-----

"Wake up, Jennifer."

Whaaa? Not again. I silently groan, and open my eyes, expecting my doctor will be there to harp at me about my recent lack-of-stellar-control.

Instead, there's a young, cheery-faced nurse who hands me a piece of brick like bread. Or rather, half a piece.

"What is this?"I sputter, shocked.

"Supper. You're spilling quite a bit of sugar in your urine and Dr. Allen is reducing your calorie intake."

"Dr. Who? He's not MY doctor. Where's my doctor?"

"Quiet, hon, you're not feeling well. This new diet will help your diabetes get under control." she moves off, to hand someone their hunk o' hardtack.

I look at the other kids in the ward, most living skeletons who barely move, let alone speak. Like a cancer ward at Halloween. Freeeeaky.

"You know John died last night," my nearest roommate pipes up, out of the blue.

"Died? Why?"

"Diabetes, of course. Like we all might only no one talks about it. It's fatal."

"It's not fatal, there's in...."

Suddenly, a tall man enters the room and all the kids flock around him like he'll be handing out candy, momentarily. (but of course, he won't)

"I think," he says very slowly,"that I may have something for you."

Something? I watch as he and the nurse administer whopping horse-sized doses of a murky brown liquid that I normally wouldn't water my lawn with, let alone have injected, into my body. But there is something else being injected.

Hope. Eyes brighten, cheeks glow, and flesh soon reappears on once skinny bones. And I, like many others, cherish those painful injections because they represent life.
----

"Wake up, Jennifer."

I sigh, turn over, and mumble "in my thigh" bracing myself against the expectant paralyzing jolt of the humongous syringe. But it doesn't come.

I open my eyes.

"Hey Jen-are you ok? You went into DKA again," my doctor asks, concerned.

"Yeah. It won't happen again, because I had a weird dream and I think I know what it means now."

---

Once upon a time, there lived a rich, not-so-snobbish teenage girl who discovered a richness not bestowed by her parent's millions. The richness of being alive.

And her mouse? Well,it survived her brother's classmates, and she named the mouse Banting, deciding that someday, she'd become a diabetes researcher and find a cure for both humans AND mice. Because they are both, really, really cute.
(go watch the Tale of Despereaux)

Freaked

Tonight I changed my pump battery for the first time. After popping a fresh one in, it whirled back into action and showed 0U in the cartridge.


There are no words to describe the freaked-out feeling you get that 85 units of insulin are now coursing through your body so I won't. (death, very, very soon)Ripped out the cartridge immediately, and it was still full so no insulin OD but my pump trainer forgot to tell me about that little goodie. Called Animas, reprimed. Still checking just to make sure I didn't get any insulin.

Thanks, Animas. That took some 15 years off my life.

Regurgitated: A Year, Reviewed

January: 10 Reasons I just LOOVVEEE My Meter!

February: Green Glucose Tabs and Ham

March: Pumpers Anonymous (in which I get back ON the bandwagon and start going to pump meetings again)

April: Oysters on the Bay

May: The Last of a Trilogy: Hail to the Chief

June: The Case of the Serial Diet Coke Spiller

July: Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth

August: The Tale of a Morphine Shot on 08/08/08..epic for more then just the Olympics

September: A Divabetic in DC

October: The Sweetest, Coldest Place on Earth

November: YES, WE DID!!!!

December: Double Digit Diagnosis Day

Recap: my diabetes turns 10, we visit several historical places, first wedding anniversary, a bowel intesseseption/electrolyte problems, go to FFL conference and finally meet several very cool bloggers, pumpers anonymous, green glucose tabs + ham, visit Hershey Park, finish my cross stitch project and begin a new one, get a new Ping Pump, get a new Endo...(ad naueseum)

Happy New Year!!!!

Lockdown at L.A.X.

The security guard does not look happy.

"Why isn't your boarding pass stamped? Didn't they check your I.D., at the gate?"

"No. No one was there, not when we came through."

"No one was there AT ALL???"

"No."

He ushers me forward to a hold cell, compliments of my pump setting off the detectors + goes off to get my boarding pass stamped. Next door, my husband is also being detained for a non-stamped pass. Suddenly, "BRAVO, AIRPORT PERSONAL" crackles over the loud speakers and everyone freezes in place, like being suddenly dipped in liquid nitrogen. As I'm thinking the worst-a bomb has been found, it might go off and we'll all have to evacuate into the chilling Californian morning (with no coat and bare stocking feet) two minutes pass, and just as suddenly, the all clear is given. People unfreeze, and go about their business. It must have had something to do with the non-stamped passes.(which I don't think every airline does-this one is extra picky) I resume my stay in hold-cell jail but it's not my fault someone was off chatting instead of doing their jobs. A truly fine security system they've got there, protecting us all. You've got to wonder if the people who run the scanners ever "stop" doing that too and anyone could just sneak by. (and it just takes one, folks)

I'm wanded, patted, and everything else, and then released. Making it 2/2 times I've gone through security and set them off. (with the new pump) I'm thinking it'd be simpler to just stow it in the basket and let it go through. Doesn't damage the pump-right? Getting held up each and every time for a 5 minute patdown is not the highlight of my day. I think this pump has a particular sensitivity toward setting everything out there, off.

"That was embarrassing," my husband remarks. (he's not one to ever set off alarms.)

"Join the club," I say,"Various alarms going off IS my life." We both laugh.(perhaps inappropriate given the setting but it was a shared diabetes joke)

And the backup syringe, vials, and juice on my carryon goes completely un-noticed
and un-commented on. Ahhh, the ever-so-logical TSA.

The Highest Low

This morning, as I awoke, sopped in sweat, heart racing and jittering to the tune of a Merry Christmas Eve hypo, I thought I'd better check first. (something I rarely do)


303 mg/dl


I treated anyway, said strips were obviously wrong. 2 hours later, I awoke again, and checked:


225 mg/dl


At that point, I thought I'd better check on another meter, with differant strips. As luck would have it-I DIDN'T pack another meter.(why am I so stupid as to think nothing will ever go wrong? whatever you don't pack, that you will need)

different strips...

215 mg/dl

So off we went to CVS, where I bought a One Touch Mini.(but what else are you going to do-the meter has issues) There is nothing more psyche damaging then buying a meter when you've got 20+ of them at home. At least this CVS had a coupon scanner + a couple of aisles of alcoholic beverages(something that is a rare/zero sight on the East Coast)

argggggggh

(and yes, I forgot my ping meter.Where is my brain these days??? I think I left it 4,000 miles away. Called Lifescan, and they're FedExing another Ultra/strips but I wouldn't be able to get through this vacation without a reliable meter)


Have a very merry Christmas, everyone!!!

99 Things

99 Things
(stolen from MajorBedhead!)

Things you've already done: bold
Things you want to do: italicize
Things you haven't done and don't want to - leave in plain font

1. Started your own blog

2. Slept under the stars. (long, long ago)

3. Played in a band – the clarinetist! Elementary, middle, and high school
4. Visited Hawaii (honeymoon, last year)

5. Watched a meteor shower

6. Given more than you can afford to charity (unfortunately, yes. I’m the one who could have benefited from charity)
7. Been to Disneyland/world – Disneyworld-twice! (CWD conventions)
8. Climbed a mountain - yes, many, but the hardest one ever was one pre-diagnosis when I drank everyone else’s water I was so thirsty.

9. Held a praying mantis

10. Sang a solo (in the shower) (yeah, of course)
11. Bungee jumped – nope but I want to!

12. Visited Paris (but I want to!)

13. Watched a lightning storm at sea.

14. Taught yourself an art from scratch. I incorporate my own ideas/with that of the experts to make my own unique oddities.

15. Adopted a child.(perhaps someday…)

16. Had food poisoning. (heck, yes, two years ago Red Lobster leftovers put me in the hospital for two days)

17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty (actually-I'd rather take the elevator!)

18. Grown your own vegetables. (I was a farm girl…we grew everything! And canned everything)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France

20. Slept on an overnight train. (no desire to do so, sounds uncomfortable)
21. Had a pillow fight.

22. Hitch hiked.

23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill. (how else do you get to an endo. appt?when technically, you’re not “ill”…)
24. Built a snow fort

25. Held a lamb.

26. Gone Skinny Dipping. (NOPE)

27. Run a Marathon- I’m doing good just to navigate three flights of stairs.

28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice

29. Seen a total eclipse

30. Watched a sunrise or sunset.

31. Hit a home run

32. Been on a cruise – right up my alley! But not yet

33. Seen Niagara Falls in person

34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors – no

35. Seen an Amish community –no, but plenty of Old Order buggy-driving Mennonites.

36. Taught yourself a new language. Spanish

37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied. (not sure that’s possible!Even billionaires aren't happy, money does not satisfy)
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person

39. Gone rock climbing

40. Seen Michelangelo’s David

41. Sung karaoke

42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt

43. Bought a stranger a meal in a restaurant.

44. Visited Africa

45. Walked on a beach by moonlight.

46. Been transported in an ambulance – Multiple times. And I’ve done the transporting.

47. Had your portrait painted. (I could have my dad do it, but I don't think posterity needs to be reminded that I ever existed)

48. Gone deep sea fishing.

49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person

50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris

51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling

52. Kissed in the rain

53. Played in the mud (doesn’t every kid?)

54. Gone to a drive-in theater. (they do still exist…must find one)

55. Been in a movie

56. Visited the Great Wall of China

57. Started a business

58. Taken a martial arts class

59. Visited Russia

60. Served at a soup kitchen

61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies

62. Gone whale watching.

63. Gotten flowers for no reason

64. Donated blood (42x, before my body started falling apart)

65. Gone skydiving

66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp

67. Bounced a check(s,s,s,s)(I am not proud of this)

68. Flown in a helicopter

69. Saved a favorite childhood toy

70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial

71. Eaten Caviar (Eww)

72. Pieced a quilt (my grandmother made one with me + I treasure it)

73. Stood in Times Square (want to, so bad!!! maybe one New Year's Eve)

74. Toured the Everglades

75. Been fired from a job

76. Seen the Changing of the Guard in London

77. Broken a bone – kneecap, finger, toe

78. Been on a speeding motorcycle

79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person

80. Published a book

81. Visited the Vatican

82. Bought a brand new car. (if we had tons of money and could afford it)

83. Walked in Jerusalem

84. Had your picture in the newspaper.

85. Read the entire Bible.

86. Visited the White House (no, but I’ve been on Air Force One!)

87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (fish, turkey, chickens)

88. Had chickenpox. (and Shingles)

89. Saved someone’s life.

90. Sat on a jury

91. Met someone famous.

92. Joined a book club

93. Lost a loved one.

94. Had a baby

95. Seen the Alamo in person

96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake (I hear its nasty)

97. Been involved in a law suit (with my recent luck on Ebay, its probably a'comin)

98. Owned a cell phone.

99. Been stung by a bee

Reruns

Last night, as I flipped the stations to ABC's "Private Practice",(read-extreme boredom, is a show with absolutely no plot and I never never watch it, all they do is sleep together + deliver babies vs Greys Anatomy which at least has interesting story lines and good actors interspersed with all the mushy stuff) as luck would have it, its a back episode. A kid-patient with an insulin pump and the doc calls the prescribing physician to run a "check" on the pump serial number(uh-shouldn't you be calling the pump company and would they even give you that info if you weren't the police?) and finds out the kid is reported missing, the father kidnapped him. So he and the kid go back to his office for a little heart-to-heart chat and the kid confesses they left because the mom's bf was abusing him. And then, the kid collapses on the office floor and has a seizure. The doc immeadiently jumps in to action, sticking a humongous needle into the kids KNECK(what an interesting place) and gives him something, presumably glucagon. Cut to gurney speeding towards the ER and the dad saying "But I checked his pump five hours ago!" (very, very, classic ABC) Later the doc tells the dad that his pump malfunctioned and over delivered insulin.(which no normal pump has done in like 15 years?) And it shows the kids infusion set, which looks like an Inset(pink, no less, not many boys would stand for that) and it actually does look like an infusion set-tubing and all. Someone tips off the cops about the dad, and the doc dumps a bag full of D supplies on the bed and tells them to get going and remember to take your insulin, check your bg, blahblahblah. They are out the door in like 9.99 seconds and the cops don't get them. No repercussions for the doc.
There were so many inconsistencies in that episode it was hard not to gag all the way through it. Dear ABC, do the world a favor and leave diabetics(especially pumpers!) out of your story lines.
And tomorrow, they are doing surgery for the port..my veins are officially toast + they're doing it tomorrow,right before the holiday week. It is under local anesthesia but not exactly any less stressful. (still get duped out)Port=semi-permanent infusion set. Till one doesn't need it anymore and they take it out. It could have waited a couple of weeks but paying for the entire thing(fresh, new deductibles) circa New Year
is every bit as scary AS the actual surgery. No thanks.

Of Cats, Trees, and Pancreases

I promise that the huge, ugly header will not be up there forever...just for the holiday season. Just wanted to show off the cats. (the humongous one is Jack, and his smaller (brother) is Cozmo. Not named for my pump, he was born in 2001.(before there was such a thing as Deltec Cozmo)


what if...you were 1/2 people (known of) born with no pancreas? Like this little boy? I really don't have much to complain about, half a pancreas is better then none.(at least you don't have to take digestive enzymes). I feel bad for all the parents of diabetic kids but because this is so exceedingly rare he may not live to grow up. (its not just diabetes) It takes a tough person to be strong for your sick kid.

My Grown-Up Christmas List

#1 family together....



#2 beautiful bgs...



#3 that our soldiers would get the best Christmas possible:



#4 that my Chia Tree would start to grow,pretty please...



#5 Snow, Snow, Snow!


(here, not the place we're going to-I want it to be 60-70's there!)

#6 and an end to these:


and lastly, because I am only human, one of these!!
# 7

what's on yours?

Friday Morning at the Educator

Went to D-education today(due to needing some majoro help) and the educator wanted to play around with my Ping, because they rarely see those. So I handed it over and she zapped it up to her glucose meter-pump-educator system.
Reviewed my written records, and then called downstairs to my endo, who was in-between patients and who I haven't seen since an early September hospital admission and who I won't see till Feb. because she is so backed up. That's ok by me, as I know that they'll always get back to me if I've got a problem. I guess that D-educators here, even if they are RN's, cannot make basal or bolus changes without the endo's blessing. (whereas, at my former endo's, they could make small ones) The endo came upstairs and made some very radical changes to my basal rates and in retrospect, I'm glad she was the one to do it. I wouldn't have dared, nor would I have wanted the educator to do it.(they were that severe)
So its back to wait and see. I've officially decided to christen my ping pump "The Green Hornet" because insulin goes in so insanely fast that its like being stung.
Got the official training Sunday(yeah, I could do it myself but had no desire to spend hours leafing through the manuals), and so far, I really do like it.

Double Digit Diagnosis Day

Five plus Five equals...

A) a cure for diabetes, times 2
B) the cost of 8 test strips
C) the number of people diagnosed every 80 seconds
D) how many units you have left in your reservoir at 2 am

On this date in history:

A) Bill Clinton was being impeached
B) Nicole Johnson was reigning Miss America
C) Gas was under $1.00 a gallon
D) Al Gore had not yet invented the Internet so we were forced to spend our time in much more productive ways

But it was more then that, it was the day that turned everything upside down.

4:01 pm, the world stopped with the words, "You probably have diabetes, your blood sugar was off our meters and you need to go to the ER right now-ambulance or car?"
The NP directs this question to me, not my mother. Slightly odd to deliver the bombshell and then ask the teenager want they want to do about it.

Numb brain. Number body. Long drive to University ER. On the way, I drink over 100 carbs of milk and go to the restroom four more times. The triage nurse awaits, and asks me my blood sugar. I repeat what the paperwork says(1100), she checks, and says "Oh-you were telling the truth!" which slightly offends me. Taken back immediately and the intern and resident show up, again, immediately.

Tonight's Project: Show, Tell, and Run a billion tests on the kid to make sure its just a nice, simple case of DKA.

Tonight's Project Manager: the intern. Otherwise known as Dr. Bill. I have the dubious distinction of being their highest bg, ever, and that is deserving of a constant stream of individuals entering, asking,(not)asking, poking, prodding, and otherwise making sure there will be no sleep that evening. Along the way, I'm told what lies in store(shots), and oddly, it doesn't disturb me at all, I feel too crummy. However, the chosen words of comfort from Dr. Bill do.("We're not going to let you die!") Not the best thing to say to a freaked out teenager who was unaware that they could die from this. To his credit, he didn't let me die(checking on me every 5-10 minutes to make sure I wasn't in a coma) Along with being asked to breathe ketonic yuck breath occasionally, a very odd experience.

So to you, Dr. Bill Hurtig, now probably out there in rich-powerful Attending Land(or private practice) I wish to say Thanks. You handle DKA with the best of 'em.

The rest of the experience is fairly straightforward, crash eduction/envying my room mate's unlimited food choices/giving the first shot + no one passing out. Stuff everyone does.

Five plus Five equals yeah, now I really feel like it was a long time ago. Wondering what the next 10 will bring. More intriguing, very cool individuals into the OC for sure.. but I'm rather hoping for a cure.

(yeah, this'll do-hope the luck continues...)

A Penny Saved & A Dollar Earned

(Size 8 shoe for length comparison)
My receipt, post coupons and CVS extrabucks printed out.(I'm one of those crazy coupon people you would rather not get behind)
Initial cost: $188.50
Final Cost: $21.48
(received $21.49 back in more extrabucks so I saved a penny on what I spent)
The cashier then proceeded to pay me the highest form of flattery there is...

"I want to be just like you with the coupons and stuff when I grow up!"

Far from making me feel old, it made me feel on-top-of-the-world-awesome. I'll treasure that compliment for the rest of the month.

Blizzard!

Or as much of one that will ever be seen in these parts.(sigh..)

Of Socio-Economic Matters

Sometimes I sit in sociology class and silently fume, wondering how the instructor and my classmates could ever arrive at the conclusions that they do.
Last week, we discussed lobbying. Lobbyists are firms hired by special interest groups to take their cases before the the legislators. Lobbyists shmooze and booze the legislators with gifts until the the legislators cave and push those bills through. Lobbyists are often former legislators and know Joe Senator(s) + play the insider card for all its worth.
Lobbyists aren't the scum of the earth, the legislators are. Taking gifts/bribes should be illegal and you should be kicked out of Congress for doing it. I realize that this would eliminate 99.9% of the Congress but if you don't make strict consequences for something it isn't going to stop. And then we got on the topic of drug reps doing the same thing and I think that's a little differant, the doc still has an obligation to his patient.If the doc wants to be bribed, I don't see a problem with it, as long as the patient is getting good care. Obviously, I don't know much about drug reps and someone else can educate me on why thats a horrible idea. We don't elect doctors- we do elect Congressmen and they need to be pandering to the overall good of the people, not to the will of Corporation X. Lobbying can be good(more research for diseases) but the system is all wrong. Legislators are only thinking about making the special interest groups happy. Everyone says they shouldn't be doing it, no one wants to suggest radical methods to STOP the corruption.
Then, we got to discussing the rich, evil CEOs and I'm thinking, get a life, people. Yes, by and large they are not the phelanthropic sort but we pay our sport gods millions a year without batting an eyelid and then complain bitterly about shelling out for a CEO(whose jobs encompass much more personal responsibility and extreme stress) I believe CEO's should be well paid, they have important decisions to make. I don't believe their severance packages should be so well padded, they should get the same as the next dude.(have some concern for the company going under) And as it relates to the automabile crises...I think that its partially due to the recession, partially the fact that everything made in this country is slapped with such high taxes its just cheaper to buy foreign. If Congress can't see the importance of getting a fairer tax system, they'll have to continue to bail out the big dudes on a regular basis.

(1 day of finals done...2 to go!)

The Insulin Machine

About six years ago, I went through a patch of being resistant to all forms of injected, snorted(j/k), pumped, forms of insulin administration. Lived in the 300-500's, double-triple-quadruple-checked EVERYTHING, no even injected insulin could bring my blood sugars down. Average TDD during this time: in the 60's. Back then, that was about double of what I took.

Happy days are here again, I've changed my sets,cartridges, lines, insulin vials, taken injections, checked the pump, doubled basals...and yet my average blood sugar remains at a level that you'd probably rather not read about. Constant ketones in the urine. Getting up three times a night to take shots.(and do other things) At this point, when not even injections are working trusting one's pump is not an option.

And I'm not sick. Nor are hormones in the picture. Last time, my endo said that stress could absolutely do all that but this just started this week. Yes, I'm stressed(final exams are two days away) but I'd have thought that would have started several weeks ago..

For occasions such as this, I will be consulting my endo. Because it doesn't look like I'm any closer to solving this thing.

December 5, 2009

I've set a goal for myself to have my JDRF themed cross stitch:
(that's part of it)

done, by this time next year. And then, I hope that JDRF loves it so much that they'll auction it off at one of their big-wig-fancy-pants auctions. Its unique, its special, and it deserves a home in some mansion, somewhere. (not sure how much people would pay for it but its surely got to be more then I could get if I sold it on Ebay) I want to do my part to fund diabetes research.

Choices

When I was a young 'un with diabetes, each and every blood sugar test was an occasion for a complete stress-a-thon. Usually a parent would be watching, and I'd pray that God(or the diabetes gods, whichever one you believe in)would send down a number that would not put my parents in complete freak-out mode. Every number was carved in black and white granite..black with death or white for bright and shiny. In the 45 seconds it took for the number to pop up on Monster Meter I got pretty nervous.

Now I'm older, and wiser- I realize that it's all relative. (unfortunately, I haven't yet convinced myself that this also applies to A1cs.) I've still seeking perfection. Every morning, I have a habit of picking out a different perfume scent for the day(because I am a Bath & Body Works addict and love 'em all)


and similar to that, you've got to pick out the right management for your D that day. Type A personality is not going to get you too far with this highly imperfect disease. You've got to learn to adjust, and adapt, and realize that the awesome control you get when healthy and running marathons is not going to be your lot when you're sick, in pain, and doing your best just to stay afloat. Every day you've got a different sort of D to deal with, and though you may prefer the sweet Rose like lull of a uneventful day, its likely going to be the rough and rocky Water Deep or Trouble. (from my retail days, I'd say that I've smelled most of the perfumes and colognes out there)

Back to the Future

CAPTAIN'S LOG, STARDATE 2032 A.D.

I open my eyes and grope under my pillow, desperately searching for my Dexcom, so I can see if I'm in-range enough not to have to check, confirm, and correct, on my meter.

But it isn't there. Groaning, I head downstairs, hoping its on the counter top and not lost.

There's a strange teenage apparition (or rather, two of them): sitting at my table,laughing, and inhaling CocoPuffs at lightening-warp speed.

"Hey Mom," the older of the apparitions says cheerfully. "Breakfast?"

"Sure," I reply, dazed. "A diet Coke, 2 slices of toast,(w/jam) and some scrambled eggs."

She presses some buttons, and a machine whizzes to life(like the one in Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang) Presto, breakfast.

"Your meal has a total of 45.8 carbohydrates."

Immediately, my tube-less pump starts to vibrate, asking me to confirm the amount of insulin needed.
"You seem low, Mom. Did you scan this morning?"

"Scan?"

"Yeah, like HELLOOOOOO- with the GlucoGadget? Like you do a zillion times a day?" She rolls her eyes, opens a kitchen drawer, and removes a small device which she then proceeds to use to "scan" my forehead, like I'm the upc symbol on a package of bacon at the local supermarket.

"You are 72 mg/dl."

"Drink this," she flips a box of OJ in my general direction. "I gotta run to my job..but no way I'm missing the party tonight. It's sooooo cool that there is finally a cure for diabetes. Ciao!"

A cure. I really must be dreaming.

Shaggy-haired boy looks up from his third bowl of CocoPuffs. "I need money."

"Son, that's enough sugar for the morning, go finish getting ready for school." I can totally do the parenting stuff, I know how teenagers think.

He grabs his baseball cap, slings it on backwards, and shuffles off.

So I'm 81 mg/dl. But what's this about a cure TODAY? I pick up my Iphone-like device(iphones by then will be obsolete) and dial my endo's office.
"Hi, it's X."
"Hey, don't forget about your 9 AM appointment this morning!"

"9 AM????"(it's now 8:22) Whatever this is all about, I'd better be hustling. My bag is already packed, by the door. Just gotta blitz through the shower.

8:59 AM. I arrive at my endo's office, where the staff greets me with humongous smiles and direct me to the operating suite where I am prepared for surgery.

My endo arrives. Wow, this is sure not 2008 any more...both of us sport more gray hairs then an elephant.

"Ready, Heidi?"

Of course I am.

The needle slides easily into my abdoman, she pushes the plunger and hundreds of encapsulated islets travel up my portal vein to free me from diabetes.

"All done."

I start to cry, the tears come faster and faster until through the blurry haze I can't see my endo anymore.

"I won't know what to do with myself after this."

She laughs. I continue to bawl.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure." She rests her hand on my shoulder. "You'll have to be monitored, of course, but this treatment has had a 95% success rate and the kinks have all been worked out..your body won't kill them and they're fixed not to overproduce or under produce insulin. You should be good to go, for the next 40 years."

I drift off on a cloud of morphine-induced euphoria, her words echoing in my ears.

And later that day, proceed to party hardy like there is no tomorrow. Because after that, there will be no more tomorrows with diabetes.

(the account is entirely fictional, except for the part where I bawl. Which I will, when there is a cure for diabetes)