Floating Down The Karpoozi River

An Act Of Bravery: My Letter to the Editor

2009-10-26T18:59:00.009-04:00

In response to the horrific letter that Kelly pointed out on her blog, I sent in the following:

I remember the day so clearly. It was just a few months after I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at the age of 12, and my mother took myself and my big brother out to eat in a restaurant. Just as the meal arrived, I pulled out my insulin vial and my syringe, and drew up the appropriate dose. I injected myself, and noticed that my big, strong, and cool brother was watching me with amazement. I inquired what the amazed look was all about, and so he answered.

"Just like that? You injected yourself and that's it? If it were me doing it, I would be squealing! You are so brave!"

At that moment, a warm feeling flooded my being. There I was, just a few weeks into my new life of fingersticks and injections, yet I felt so good. Yes, good. Good because my big brother, whom I always looked up to for his bravery, courage and strength, was admiring ME for MY bravery, courage, and strength. In the ensuing nine years,
when I went through the ups and downs of my diabetes, when I struggled with high numbers and low ones, I looked back at the scene in the restaurant, at the time when my big brother called ME brave.

And I know I am brave. You can therefore understand the terrible feeling I had when I read the letter by Mr. Wallace Barber. People don't view my actions as brave? People don't think the responsibility I take for myself, my health and my life are courageous acts? Can it be that people really view my diabetes as something disgusting, something they should be traumatized by? Shouldn't people be awed by my bravery (as was my big brother) and thankful that they don't have to go through all of this.

And so, I say to the public. You don't want to hurt us diabetic anymore, do you? Please, for my sake and the sake of the thousands of type one diabetics you will encounter in your lifetime, GET EDUCATED!

Thank you,

A BRAVE person with type one diabetes

Great Moments in Diabetes Lunacy

2009-10-25T00:32:00.000-04:00

I was a little horrified when I looked at the front page of this blog recently. I am a really happy and upbeat peron, but judging by just the titles of the last few blog posts (forget the actual content...) one would never know it. And so, here is an opportunity to laugh at the complete stupidity that is me controlling my diabetes.

First, let's set the stage.
I chked my blood sugar (high), ate some lunch (high in carbs) and then took a retroactive bolus for the two things combined. It was a big bolus.
A minute later, my father reminded me that shabbos was at 5:45. (Orthodox Jews such as myself don't take showers or do other forms of work from sundown on Friday until nightfall on Saturday.) I looked at the clock and almost screeched. It was 5:28. I needed to take a shower and get ready before shabbos started. I couldn't believe how I had let myself lose track of time.
I ran faster than a top athlete to grab a towel and jumped into the shower.

was in the middle of pouring shampoo onto my hand when I suddenly heard a noise. It was the kind of noise that would make one think that they had dropped the shampoo, but I was still holding it. Then I realized that the thud I heard was my heart dropping all the way to the cold and slippery floor of the shower.

Blasted minimed and their slow bolus!

Then, I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. Laughing at myself. Laughing at the idiocy of the situation. Laughing at the way I had lost track of time, then lost track of my entire brain in te process.

Don't get it yet? The entire amount of elapsed time from the moment I pressed the final "act" on the pump until the moment that I had jumped into the shower was not enough for a sizable bolus such as the one I had taken to be delivered. And I had no idea how much was delivered before I hastily disconnected and jumped in.

Here I was, proud of myself that I remembered to bolus and then....

I hurried the rest of my shower, in part because I had about 13 minutes left before the start of shabbos, and in part because I was hoping that a miracle would happen and I would see that I had mistaken the timing and I delivered the bolus an hour ago and simply lost track of that hour.

There was no mistaking the signs. I got out of the shower, and immediately saw my pump, sitting on the counter next to the sink. I followed the tubing with my eyes and there the end of it sat...in a pile of liquid. I won't tell you if that liquid was diet coke or insulin. You figure it out yourself, ok?

Then, I did what my instinct told me to do, which was to pick up my pump and stare at it for a clue. I grabbed it, looked over at the screen, half expecting it to say: "1.3 units were delivered before you lost your mind" or maybe "you idiot, what do you expect from me, I'm just a machine! I can't be held acountable for your idiocy!" But no, a glance down at my screen showed...

No, it wasn't empty. I wish. The darn thing was still delivering insulin. I reconnected so fast, but still it was just in time for that little buzz, telling me that it was done with the bolus. About time, huh?

And then (just to toot my own horn and make up for the display of lunacy that I have just provided) I exhibited more self control than I had, and I didn't risk a horrid low by re-doing the whole bolus. I waited, and an hour and a half later, I corrected a 200.

Ok, go ahead and laugh now.

The Darker Side of Diabetes

2009-09-22T13:43:00.000-04:00

I know that Invisible Illness Awareness Week is over, so this post isn't my attempt at awareness, more of an attempt to get things off my chest. In fact, I doubt I would ever try to raise awareness for type 1 diabetes's misery, because I like people to think it is easy, and treat me like they would any healthy friend. And really, it basically is easy.

But sometimes it's not.

Some days, like today, I want to scream. I want to tear my hair out. I want to crawl under the blanket and not come out until someone finds a cure. I just want life to be normal again. Right now, I am not even asking for normal as other's see it. I just want normalcy for type 1 diabetes.

For the last couple of weeks my blood sugars have been something out of a horror movie. First, a couple of days (weeks? who even knows at this point?) my blood sugars wouldn't go below 300 for anything in the world. Now, they have developed a new trick: they go down, then all the way back up, so fast it's dizzying. I don't think a person who never experiened it can ever understand what it feels like to go from 400 down to 150 and back up to 450, all in the space of an hour and a half.

And I don't think that a person who has never felt it on their own can ever eally believe me when I say that I am not myself. I guess this really is all about invisible illnesses, because I feel totally lousy, yet I get up, I go to work, I do whatever I normally do. How an I explain that the effort required to get this all done when I feel so lousy is almost too much for me to handle? How can I ever portray the feeling of being up half the night from crazy high blood sugar, then getting up to go to work, and pretending that I am fine? How can anyone understand that these grouchy complaints that come out of my mouth are simply not me? How can anyone understand how rough this is for me lately?

How can anyone understand the confusion of taking insulin, eating nothing, and finding your blood sugar rise? How can anyone ever comprehend the fear, when I wonder what is going on with my body and when I will be back to normal? How can I ever explain to my friends that I haven't been calling them back because my head is spinning and I feel like I can't carry on a normal conversation? How are my friends supposed to believe me when I barely believe it myself?

Dying Of Diabetes In A Civilized Country?

2009-09-11T00:28:00.006-04:00

Someone gave him my phone number, thinking that perhaps I could help with some supplies he needed. This man knows very few people with diabetes, and takes advantage of his listening ear.

He starts to tell his story, and I sit there, completely spell bound. I don't believe it's happening. I don't believe it's true.

He introduces himself, then mentions he has "a severe case of diabetes." I groaned to myself. People with type 2 diabetes have a nasty habit if aggravating those of us with type one. I figured this man was simply a type two diabetic who now needs insulin, and now thinks he has a "severe case."

Turns out I was right, but it was me who was about to learn a big lesson.

The man, we'll call him Mr. Lerner, began by telling me that he used to have "regular type two." He used to check his blood sugar a couple of times a week, take a daily pill, and watch his food intake. "I cheated occasionally, but I was basically under very good controlled."

It sounded pretty run of the mill to me, so I continued to listen. "Everything changed when I got a terrible infection. I had a fever, and I was pretty sick." I listened in amazement as he told me what happened in the aftermath of that infection. It was shabbos (sabbath) afternoon and his blood sugar, at last test, was a bit under 200. Not a very big deal, right? Well suddenly, he collapsed. Blacked out. An ambulance ride to the hospital later, and his blood sugar was close to a thousand. They gave him a massive dose of insulin, sent him home, and figured the whole thing was over.

A couple of days later, when he was back at the hospital, having collapsed once again, and they realized something was wrong. They further realized that something was very wrong when the man didn't respond to their prescribed insulin regimen. They continued to increase his insulin doses, and his blood sugars continued to climb.

At first, I was sure he was eating terribly. I inquired about his diet, and received another shock. "Well I eat very low carb, and I am extremely careful with every bite that goes in my mouth, but it's more than that." He explained that his blood sugar would climb with no food whatsoever.

The story only got worse as I began to hear all of the awful details. Details like taking hundreds of units of insulin per hour, just to stay under 200. Details like a person being on an insulin pump but changing the reservoir multiple times per day. Details like an A1c of >14%. Details like a man remaining in the 400-500's through most days.

"I don't feel like there is much of a need to check, because almost every time I do, the meter just says HI." He started detailing his history of hospital stays, treatments, and doctors. "Most doctors refuse to treat me after a while. They simply have nothing to help me with."

I listened to his tales in shock. Here is a man, living in the year 2009, in the advanced country of the United States of America, and he is dying of diabetes. Medical science has advanced to such a state, that diabetes treatment is more advanced than people would have ever dreamed of. There is a plethora of choices available to patients with diabetes, in terms of insulins, meters, pumps, and even things that patients of fifty years ago wouldn't have been able to dream of, such as continuous glucose monitors.

Yet, as we take insulin, then watch our numbers descend, we don't think properly about the marvels of it. Sure we can do a little introspection occasionally, and remember the times when insulin hadn't yet been discovered, when diabetes was an instant death sentence, but do I ever stop and think about the amazing wonders of insulin simply working?

And when I take a shot, or I bolus on my pump, and I get frustrated because my blood sugar only went down a bit, do I stop and appreciate the little bit that it did go down? All those times that my blood sugar gets a little high, and I feel so sick, so I stop and think how grateful I have to be that I don't feel like this all the time? All those shots I take, every pill I swallow, every blood test I endure, I might think briefly about the wonders of modern medicine, but not about the wonders of the human body, the wonders of modern medicine and the unbelievable wonders of the human body interacting the way they should. And that is a mistake. Nothing should ever be taken for granted. Nothing.

Not medicine that works. Not food that fills you up. Not clothes that keep you warm. Happiness, health, family, friendship...these are all things that we overlook, things that we take for granted. But nothing is for sure. Nothing is guaranteed. It's amazing how much everyone has to be grateful for.

Diabetes...On a Serious Note

2009-07-20T18:10:00.003-04:00

By nature, I am an extremely happy person. While I do have my days where is seems everything is going wrong, I always try to stay upbeat and focus on the good. I don't want this to come out sounding like a depressed post, or like I am miserable because I have diabetes, but I was just thinking about it...

Recently, my company switched insurance companies. The employees received a number of options of which company they want to go with. There was one choice, which was free, another choice, slightly better, which required a small employee contribution, and a third choice, which required a slightly larger sum. I looked at all my coworkers, as they made their simple decisions, and I felt a slight stab of envy.

Sure I know that there is more than meets the eye. In fact, none of my coworkers knew the reason for my long hesitation before making my choice in insurance plans. They don't know that as a person with type 1 diabetes, insurance, medication, doctor's visits and co payments become very real, everyday things. They don't know that as a person who deals with diabetes, I am tied to my job, as they provide me with health care benefits. They don't know that I am living with diabetes, much less, what it entails.

But I am living with diabetes. And I do know what it entails. Each day, as I wake up, my first thought is not "What will I wear today?" or "Gosh I hope my boss got over that silly mistake I made yesterday." It's not even "Man! I overslept!" Rather, it's "hey! Where's my blood sugar meter?" And each afternoon, as I prepare to eat lunch, it's not simply a matter of warming up my pre-packed lunch, or unwrapping my sand which, it's a matter of checking my blood sugar, counting my carbs, and taking the appropriate dose of insulin. Each evening, as I am ready to fall into the blissful state of oblivion, commonly known as sleep, once again, I have to take out my blood sugar meter and check.

And all that is assuming things go right. Unfortunately, they don't. Often times, things go wrong. Horribly wrong. Somehow, vacations throw my schedule off, and I go low...every time I vacation. Perhaps it's the reduced stress level, perhaps it's the increased activity, perhaps it's simply a matter of a break in routine. Either way, it's ironic that the last three vacations I went on left me fumbling around a dark hotel room, in the dead of the night, praying for all I was worth that none of my roommates would wake up, finding me eating at four in the morning.

In an interview, a celebrity with diabetes stated that diabetes takes the joy out of things. I disagree. Having a low blood sugar while trying to photograph Niagara Falls doesn't take the joy out of the experience. It simply makes the joy harder to find. And while running to the bathroom constantly because of a high blood sugar doesn't take the joy out of having a friend over for a visit, it does make that joy more difficult to find.

And through it all, I struggle to remain grounded, to remind myself that my pancreas doesn't work, but everything else does. Sometimes it's easy to find the good, but days when diabetes takes center stage, it's harder to remember that the joy never goes away. But I look at my friends, who take so many things for granted, and I am thankful for the experiences I have as a result of diabetes. I am thankful that I have learned that my body is something to be grateful for. I am thankful that I have learned to appreciate the joy...all the more so because it's sometimes harder to find.

Sick Days

2009-06-01T14:12:00.002-04:00

By Dr. Seuss

I don't like this,
I don't like it one bit,
I don't like it,
When I'm sicker than sick.

I don't like it
When my number is high.
I don't like it
When my tongue feels all dry.

I don't like it
When I am sick.
I don't like it
When I feel ick.

I don't like it
With cotton in my head.
I don't like it
When I'm stuck in bed.

I don't like it.
I don't like it one bit.
I don't like it
When I'm sicker than sick.

I don't like
Dryness on my tongue.
I don't like
Feeling strung.

I don't like
When my meter waves.
I don't like
The sugar craves.

I don't like the ketone strips.
I don't like the IV drips.
I don't like the bathroom trips.

I don't like this illness
I don't like it one bit.
No I don't like it
When I'm sicker than sick.

What's For Breakfast?

2009-05-21T18:21:00.003-04:00

To say I am not a morning person is a gross-underestimation. I am the grouch who, in answer to a "good morning" will answer "says who?" And I am the grouch who will glare at my roomamtes and mutter something like "cereal? At 8 o'clock in the morning?? How could you?"
In short, I can't look at food for the first couple of hours after I wake up-on a good day. So I knew something was really fishy this morning. I had gone to sleep later than normal. When I say normal, I mean normal for me, which is anyway later than normal for most people. Basically, I had probably gone to sleep after my father already woke up. When that happens, breakfast is generally delayed even more, because I most likely had a snack that would at best be called a midnight snack.
Now, when I wake up, it is usually with a startled thought, which jerks me awake. Sometimes it's a "oh man it's so late! I can't believe I overslept like this!" Sometimes it a "Hey! Where is my phone? I thought I left it right here next to my pillow!" But never, ever, did I have such a thought before. I woke up, and the first thought that jumped into my extremely overtired brain was "hey, what's for breakfast?"
Woah. What's for breakfast? Me? I am the one who gets nauseous when I see food before 11am. I am hungry for breakfast at 7:43 am? Something must be wrong.
Ding-dong. You got it. Something was wrong. A quick BG check...56.
I had my breakfast early today.

A Happy Birthday? My Diagnosis Story

2009-03-19T23:01:00.000-04:00

"Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me..."

I sat there thinking to myself. Is it a happy birthday?

I had just returned home from the hospital, having been diagnosed with diabetes. I still wasn't sure what diabetes meant, or how it would affect me in the long run. I started thinking back....how it had all happened.

I would say that everything started 3 days before, but that wouldn't be quite accurate. I had been displaying the usual symptoms of high blood sugar for a number of weeks prior to that.

I think the first thing I noticed was the extreme thirst. I would bring two or three drinks to school with me, and nonetheless I would find myself frequenting the soda machine. I simply needed more to drink. It was just at the end of the school year, which was also the beginning of the summer, so I excused the thirst as a product of warmer weather.

Next thing I noticed was that I was running to the bathroom every other minute (or so it seemed). This was, for me, as an almost 12 year old kid, the most unpleasant symptom. Seventh grade girls are very embarrassed of things like that. I remember going to the doctor for something or other, and seeing a sign in the waiting room. It described symptoms of an overactive bladder, and I decided right then and there that I have one. I was too embarrassed to say anything to my mother though, or maybe I didn't know how to break it to her, but either way, I didn't tell her.

At some point, the symptoms got my mother's attention. We were on the way home from a store, and I begged my mother to stop for a drink. She gave me a funny look and told me that we would be home in less than five minutes. I told her that I couldn't wait. I needed a drink. She couldn't understand. Nobody really can, if they have never experienced it. So I waited. We got home and I ran into the house. I gulped down my drink and then ran to the bathroom. And that was really what was going on. Drink, run to the bathroom, and repeat.

Then my mother started noticing some other symptoms. She asked me to vacuum a room. It was not a very large room. I pulled out the vacuum cleaner, and started doing it. Less than halfway through, I sat down panting. My mother looked at me quizzically. She inquired why I was not finishing my job. "I can't. I am too tired!" My mother, once again, could not understand. "Too tired to do another minute of vacuuming?" I didn't know how to explain to her that I was not being lazy. I really couldn't.

The final straw came one monday. It had been a nice day. It was summertime, and we were all off from school. We went to the bagel store for breakfast. I ordered orange juice to go with my breakfast. It was only in retrospect that I noticed that I had been drinking a lot of orange juice and power-aid in the last few weeks. It was as if I couldn't get enough sugar. (Obviously, we later found out, that my body really thought I couldn't.) It was a very busy day. I was out with my father and brother. Then, my father dropped me off where my mother worked. (I guess he was on the way to go somewhere, not really sure.) I sat in my mothers office for a while. At some point, I told her I was thirsty. She gave me some money and sent me next door for a drink. I came back a few minutes later with a power-aid. I sat there for a while, until it was time for my mother to go home.

We got home, and my mother started to prepare supper. I guess you could call this the turning point in my story. I decided that I didn't like what my mother was making for supper. So I started really putting up a fuss. I mean kicking, screaming, crying...nothing pleasant. It was then that alarm bells started to go off in my parents' heads. Me, the good natured child, who was alway happy and always calm and always charming was having a tantrum? Something didn't equal up. My father has type 2 diabetes, and started to put everything together. These were all symptoms of high blood sugar.

So he called me into his study and pulled out his meter. Now, you have to realize, that at that point in my life I was completely terrified of needles. A shot required three nurses to hold me down. (I am not exaggerating.) So when my father took out his lancet, and attempted to poke me, I started screaming. I wouldn't let him. We had a brief struggle, during which I was probably promised the world if I would just co-operate. Finally, my father managed to get some blood out of me. He put it onto the strip, and we waited for 60 seconds. (Yep, in those days we were using the old glucometer elite-not even the elite XL, and it took 60 seconds to give a reading.) It was a very long sixty seconds. The result appeared on the screen.....HI. We were both confused.

My father said that the machine must have malfunctioned, and we need to try again. A lot more screaming ensued, but I eventually let my father poke me again, and get another drop of blood. We tested again. HI. So my father checked himself, and the result was normal. Then he called over my sister to be checked. 93. "Ok, it's working now. Let's check you again." We checked again, amidst more screams, and the result was once again....HI. My father realized at that point that something was very wrong.

He called the meter company and told the rep what was going on. "We just checked my daughter's blood sugar and it read HI. I checked myself and my other daughter and bother results were normal. What does HI mean?" The rep told my father that it means over 600, and that we should call our healthcare provider immediately. We did just that. Our doctor was very concerned, and told us to call Hatzalah (Jewish volunteer ambulance). We did that too.

Hatzolah came rushing into my house. I was pretty hysterical at that point. I was hiding in the living room, cowering in the corner of the couch, hoping they would just leave me alone. Well, I wasn't just hoping. I was screaming "leave me alone! Go away! Leave me alonge!" Obviously, they didn't. They did call the paramedics down though. Suddenly there were swarms of men in my living room, all trying to coax a drop of blood out of my fingers. I was sitting on my hands, stubbornly refusing to let anyone come near me with a needle.

A police man had been sitting right in front of my house, waiting for "customers" (as my father puts it) who skip the light on my corner. He noticed the paramedics truck, and the ambulance parked in my driveway, and decided to come in and see if we needed a policeman too.

That was all we needed. If I had been scared before, the sight of a policeman walking into the room totally finished me off. I got off my fingers, and let them test me. Again, my blood sugar was HI. They said that they would have to take me to the emergency room. A bit of an argument ensued, because my parent's wanted to take me to a hospital other than the closest one, and the EMTs weren't so happy with that idea. Eventually, my parents won the argument.

And we were off. My mother came with me in the ambulance, and my father followed behind in the car.

We arrived at the hospital, and they started wheeling me in on a stretcher. I tried to protest that I could walk, but the EMTs explained that this is the way we have to do it for faster treatment. I didn't realize it at the time, but they must have considered me pretty sick. I got in almost immediately.

My memories at this point are slightly fragmented, yet vividly clear at the same time. I can still visualize the room I was in. I remember the doctor coming to check my blood sugar again. This time, I thought of a brilliant plan. "Can't I just pick a scab that I have, and you can use that blood to check it?" The doctor looked horrified, as if I had just suggested murdering the president, or blowing up the entire hospital. I continued to argue, I wanted to know why I couldn't. "That wouldn't be sanitary," was the doctor's reply. Sanitary? Who cared about sanitary? I didn't want to be poked. He eventually won. I got poked.

I sometimes read in books about people being diagnosed with various diseases or conditions. In the stories, the person is usually called into the doctor's office by a grim-faced doctor who gently breaks the news. That's not how my diagnosis went. Nobody ever said the words "You have diabetes" to me. I overheard the doctor discussing various aspects of diabetes with my parents. And then it hit me. I have diabetes. I didn't know much about diabetes. I mean, I knew that my father had a kind of diabetes, but that the type that kids get is "much more serious."

I also "knew" that a kid who has diabetes could die if they ate an ice cream cone. I "knew" that kids with diabetes are very sick. But other than that, I really was blissfully unaware of the ins and outs of type 1 diabetes.

I learned pretty quickly though. I was admitted into the hospital, shown to my bed, ready to learn about my new life as a diabetic. It didn't take long for me to find out. They brought my roommate some ice-cream, and I got diet jello. I told myself that it was because I keep kosher, and that I would be back to regular food soon, when I got home. But I didn't believe myself.

The next morning, a nurse came prancing into my room looking jolly. "I have a new blood sugar meter for you!" I couldn't understand why she said that in such a happy voice. Blood sugar meter? I didn't even want one! But I got one. And they tried teaching me how to use it. One of the first lessons I learned about diabetes was that it doesn't go well with needle phobias. I would have to change...a lot of things.

Thankfully, I was let out of the hospital pretty quickly. And so, I got to welcome my 12th birthday at home, albeit amongst a mound of new paraphernalia. (A book called "Sugar was my favorite food," a catalog of medical alert jewelry, and of course, needles needles and more needles.) At the time, I thought it was the worst birthday of my life. Sure I got better presents that year than I ever did before, but I also got a dietetic birthday meal.

But looking back, I have to say, my perspectives have changed. Yes, diabetes can be a pain sometimes. No, I wouldn't choose to get diabetes, but, having been dealing with it for almost 9 years, I have to say that it has enriched my life in numerous ways. I am the person that I am today, as a result of my life experiences, and diabetes is definitely prominent among them. And so, looking back at my last 9 years...I have learned a lot. I have grown a lot. And I would not have it any other way.

Gushers

2009-03-17T14:38:00.005-04:00

No! Of course I'm not talking about the candy! Would that be appropriate for a diabetes blog? C'mon! Of course not!
I'm talking about sets. Infusion sets. You know how you feel this horrible pain emanating from your set, look down, and give a yelp?
You know how you yank out that set as quickly as you can, as though your very life depends on it?
You know how your set comes out and you are treated to this fountain show, a red fountain show?

I just had a gusher the other day. I felt this horrible discomfort in my set. I excused myself, went into a private room, and started pulling out my tubing. I saw that the insulin in the tube had a faint reddish tinge to it. That is when I got a little nervous. I looked at my set and got even more nervous. I know that at that moment I should have thought about things and prepared myself a little. Perhaps I should have gotten some tissues, or a band-aid (or maybe a tourniquet...). But all I could think about at that moment was : "EWW. GET THAT OUT!"

So I did. I pulled it out. It's a shame the red cross wasn't around to collect the ensuing flow and stop their blood bank shortage. But they weren't. So instead I went scrambling for something to wipe up the blood, while thinking that I should probably change my infusion sets more often. Somehow this doesn't happen on the second day of a set...

Rage Bolusing

2009-02-15T13:57:00.003-05:00

It can't be I am the only one who has felt this way. I am 289. There are thick cobwebs over my brain. I am drinking my eighth cup of water in as many minutes. And I am still thirsty.

I want to come down already. I don't care how down. Just not this.

So I correct. Exactly the amount the brilliant little wizard in my pump tells me to correct.

An hour later....I check....five excruciatingly long seconds later and I am wishing I hadn't checked: 356.

Not. Good. At. All.

So.....

I do the obvious(-ly stupid) thing to do. I overbolus. A lot. Then I go to sleep, content in the knowledge that tomorrow morning I will be.....not high anymore.

And I am not. I wake up, bright and early, and the first thing I notice is that I am STARVING. I look wildly around my room for something, anything I need to get rid of that gnawing hunger. So I race into the kitchen, grab myself some.....everything.

And I am still shaky. So I grab some more food, and some more. I am eventually forced to stop when there is nothing left to eat. An hour later I am reminded why rage bolusing doesn't work: 252.

So we start...all over again.

Wishes For the New Year!

2009-01-01T13:07:00.008-05:00

Who but a diabetic
can know the frustration,
of shot after shot
teken with dedication?
Yet there is no sign
of our salvation!
Blood sugar testing,
and careful consideration,
Resisting carbs
and their evil temptation.
Diabetes never goes
on any vacation,
and requires lots
of concentration.
We sometimes feel
some desperation,
when the a1c doesn't meet
our expectation.
We read lots
to get education
and we never seem to have
enough information!
It dominates our every
conversation,
despite other's lack
of facination.
It's funny what we see
as cause for celebration,
Of course the latest
diabetes innovation!
Mountains of supplies
that require organization,
those lows and highs,
that bring about the realization,
that there is so much
misinformation,
which in turn leads to
such misinterpretation.
We just want people to understand
A little of our frustration!
Doctors and nurses,
scripts for medication,
A diabetes diagnosis
is quite an implication.
So we continue to fork over
another donation,
Great worthy causes like
American Diabetes Association
and the Juvenile Diabetes
Research Foundation.
We hope that next year,
the diabetic population,
will look back,
without hesitation,
and say with lots,
of jubilation,
This year brought
the cure-our salvation!

What does diabetes mean to YOU?

2008-12-27T23:36:00.002-05:00

What does diabetes mean to me?
Well, to me, it means highs and lows. It means blood sugars tests and insulin injections. It means a lifelong medical condition. It means a constant learning experience in a class I never signed up for.

For some people it means fun and games. No you aren't drunk; no you
aren't seriously tired; and you really don't need a new prescription on your reading glasses. Yes, there are people out there for whom
diabetes means FUN and GAMES.

The other day, my friend called and told me something that happened at a family get-together. Her grandfather announced that he has some entertainment. Everyone is going to guess a random number between 95
and 199. The person who gets closest to the real number will win the prize.
How will the real number be decided?
Well, after everyone chose a number, her grandfather picked up a glucose meter and checked himself. His number was 149, so her sister,
who had guessed 150 won a board game.

Are you LOLing at this story? I was when I heard. Then, she added
this: (which made me roll my eyes out of my head...) "He doesn't have REAL diabetes like you do, he just had to watch his sugar a little bit."

Ok, I learned a lesson from this. I need to stop taking diabetes so seriously! It can be loads of fun! ;-)

The Terrible Tales of the Sister and the Accidental Poke

2008-12-15T12:29:00.002-05:00

(This story actually happened a few years ago, but I think it is funny so I decided to retell it. Plus it kinda fit in with my previous post...in a weird way.)

As parents of kids with diabetes know, there are always telltale signs of diabetes lying around every corner of the house. And so, in a manner that only an immediate family member of a child with type 1 diabetes can understand, you learn to step over the used test strips, pull out soda cans from inder the insulin box in the fridge, rewrite the grocery list that inadvertantly got written on the back of a log sheet. You also learn to give up the most prime storage space in your house for the monthly haul from the pharmacy, and you already resigned yourself to finding old meters in the oddest places.
So, in that case, it shouldn't be too shocking to you that my sister was on the phone, having a nice (loooong) conversation with her friend, when we suddenly hear a YELP! After she hastily hung up on her friend, she came howling to my mother. "Mommmyyyy! I got huuuurt!" She held out the weapon at fault, the horrible tool of destruction. And I laughed. No I am not sadistic. Well, only sometimes.... But I couldn't help it. In her hand she held a lancing device. And all that screaming was over a little poke from a tiny lancet. I feel so bad for her. Not. I mean, if lancets hurt, then maybe I should feel bad for her, but I should feel about five million times MORE bad (I hope my high school english teacher isn't reading this) for myself. And if it doesn't hurt....then it doesn't hurt, right?

Imagine if she had diabetes....the screaming that would take place each time she needed a BG test...

Sick Day Woes

2008-12-10T12:18:00.003-05:00

Nobody likes being sick. Well, not too much. There is always the plus side, you know the attention, the home made chicken soup, the cards and ballons, and of course paid sick time. But I digress. Being sick is pretty lousy. For everyone.

But for us with diabetes it is SO much worse. I mean, yes we can sniffle and snort our way through the day, and wipe our red, sore nose. And we can get ourselves buried under a mountain of Sudafed, Mucinex, Advil and of course kleenex, but we know that is the LEAST of sick day woes. The real issues is the balancing act we play. Our numbers go crazy high when sick, so we increase our basals. How much? Oh, and why am I still high? Should I correct this high? And what is I can't eat?

So it's basically a stab in the dark. (Because, as we all know, diabetes is a game without rules.) I increased my basal to 200%. I double correct for all my high numbers. And I still find myself 200-300. Then I crash down for no good reason. Sigh. Next time anyone complains to me about being sick I think I'll.....um...laugh! Ye, that's it! I'll laugh!

Next up: The saga of the sister's accidental poke. Will she live to tell the tail? (rolls eyes)

I just did something dumb

2008-12-07T03:11:00.002-05:00

You know when your blood sugar is really high, and your tongue starts to stick to the roof of your mouth? And you drink an entire cup of water and even while you are drinking it you feel thirsty? And you go to the bathroom and you feel this odd sense of deja vu? When you yell at the people around you for breathing to loud? (!) Ya. That was me. All. Night. Long.

Anyway, it's 3 am and I am sitting at the computer, and I am thirsty. Well really now, that's interesting! Why could that be??

Yes, I am thirsty. Uh, VERY thirsty. So I look in the fridge...nothing worth writing home about. Nothing at all to drink... assuming you don't drink mustard. So I look for something drinkable, and come up with....

Ok I am embarrassed to say this.

I see a bottle of orange juice.

Now, you are probably thinking to yourself: there is no way she drank ORANGE JUICE when her blood sugar was way north of the 250 mark. I barely believe it myself. But I was SO thirsty and my tongue was hurting me from being so dry...and I needed some relief! So I took a cup...and drank just a little bit...and another little bit. And I didn't feel any better.

Awesome. Not. Now my blood sugar is higher than it was before and I still need a drink. Sigh.

I did it!

2008-12-04T00:20:00.003-05:00

I haven't been very happy with my old pharmacy for a while, but today I decided to finally take the plunge and switch. My new pharmacy is right near where I work, but not to close to my house. They do deliver to my area, which makes things ok for me. I walked in, determined to show this guy I meant business. Do you deliver to .....? I asked him. When he answered in the affirmative, I opened up my purse and pulled out a WAD of prescriptions. When I decided that I don't like my pharmacy, I asked my endo to write me up a whole batch of new ones, including things like lancets (I thought one box is a lifetime supply?) and glucagon which aren't part of my monthly refills. I was observing his reaction out of the corner of my eye, and was glad to see the exact reaction I was looking for. His eyes grew huge. Perfect. This guy recognized that I have a chronic medical condition and I make frequent use of the pharmacy and pleasing me would be a good business strategy. So far, the service was fine. The strips were pretty desperate, as I had just a few left to my name, and he gave me those on the spot. The rest have been delivered to my house promptly. I really hope he remembers that huge wad of prescriptions next time he thinks about getting on my nerves...

Insulin in the Workplace

2008-11-25T16:44:00.003-05:00

It was right at the beginning of a long shift, when my pump vibrated, setting me into a panic. I remembered that my pump was alarming about it's low reservoir when I woke up in the morning. I pushed it off a little bit, and another bit, and suddenly I was at work with an empty pump and my nearest insulin bottle half hour away. Sigh. Through the good grace of my coworker, who agreed to cover for me while I went to get it, I retrieved my insulin. (Maybe it was the fear I would die or something while I was at work...) But it got me thinking. I wouldn't leave insulin in the company fridge for a number of reasons.

>I am not ready to scream to the world "I have diabetes"

>I am not always on site so I don't know how handy it would be,

>There is a cleaning lady who goes through it once a week and tosses everything...

I usually keep the current bottle in my bag, but that strategy doesn't work very well if you have a bunch of different bags and enjoy switching. I have a cubby but insulin would spoil in it, so that idea is out. Any suggestions?

Dieting Woes

2008-11-10T11:04:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, I saw lots of people I hadn't seen in a long time. All of them (who knew I am on a strict diet) kept telling me: "you look amazing" or "you must have lost TONS of weight" and other comments like that. So why was I upset?

Simple: I DIDN'T loose weight! I just got a HAIRCUT! Honestly. It's an excellent haircut, which frames my face beautifully, and I really look good, but I felt REALLY dumb with all those compliments! I did NOT deserve them.

I'll tell you one effect it had though. I am VERY motivated to loose weight right now. I want to see these people again an about a month and EARN their compliments.

(No, I WON'T tell you where I got this awesome haircut! ;)

My latest complaint...

2008-11-05T18:06:00.003-05:00

I have come to the conclusion that I need to fine tune my basals. (What did you say? Oh, did I say that already? Well I guess I have come to that conclusion again.) I have these ups and downs that totally make me CRAZY! I hate seeing a 261 an hour after seeing an 89. I hate stopping halfway through my workout because starting off at 180 wasn't high enough. Lately I feel like diabetes has been getting in the way more than usual. Monday night was the icing on the cake. (hee hee) My friend got married in august, and moved away. I haven't been able to see her since then, so I was very excited when she called to say that her husband has something to take care of in the area so she decided to come in with him and me and her and the rest of the "gang" would get to spend some time together. We were having a great time (doing nothing...) when the usual symptoms hit. I was driving with everyone in the car when my friends screamed at me to stop. I had apparently almost had an accident. We were almost at our destination, so when we got there I got in the back and let my friend take over at the wheel. Me, being an idiot, thought I could get away with bringing my tiny little wristlet, and obviously that meant no meter. BAD idea. I couldn't check, and I didn't have any sugar. And I was in a ROTTEN mood.

All. Night. Long.

I was ranting and raving to one of my D friends that it's not fair. :( Diabetes ruins everything! I can't have a simple night out with friends without THAT?!?!

Ok, I think I have complained enough. Don't even get me started on the election... ;)

What is WRONG with me?

2008-10-28T19:48:00.001-04:00

I was lying around on the couch, feeling very sick and sorry for myself. I couldn't hire figure out what my problem was. Can you spell L-O-W?

I obviously can't. I was just lying there, until my sister came in and tried to talk to me. This strange voice came out of my mouth. It was snapping at her and growling. I think that's what made the light go onin my brain. Right. I'm low. And I'm taking it out on others. That's the worst symptom of lows, as far as I am concerned. I mean, Just because I suffer, doesn't mean everyone else has to suffer too.

Back to my couch, I tried to get up and I couldn't. That pretty much solidified my concerns. At that point checking was just for the ceremony, because I ENJOY poking myself. It's a goodthingi did because I was 58, and dropping.

Why do I have this funny feeling that my basals need to be adjusted?

Low BG....Low Reservoir....Low Battery-it's MONDAY!

2008-10-27T12:31:00.002-04:00

I love mondays. I was up till three last night. Then when I finally fell asleep I slept like a baby: I woke up every half hour. :rollseyes:

I woke up and immediately KNEW it would be a great day. NOT. I woke up with that shaky feeling: 61. Especially lovely because I went to sleep with a 158 last night. :sigh:

Next, my pump started beeping. Beeping? That's weird, it's on vibrate. Except when the battery is low. Bingo! Low battery. Strike two. :groaning:

Ok, the battery is low but why is it STILL beeping? Low reservoir? Lovely. Just plain lovely. Strike three. :scowl:

I don't know why I am at work. I should be at home curled up in bed, under my warm covers, reading a good book. :dreamy:

But it's monday. I am at work, listening to my boss growl and watching my coworker at the next desk eating this delicious looking pastry. I love mondays. :snort:

Diabetes Burnout Anyone??

2008-10-26T00:55:00.001-04:00

I said I wouldn't try to explain my being AWOL, but I wanted to give a PART of the reason: I have been plagued by the most awful case of
Diabetes burnout I've ever encountered in my 8+ years of diabetes. I simply didn't care one bit about diabetes and the like. I went days without checking, and disconnected my pump for longer than I would admit. I am on my way back back on track, but I am still finding it tough. Any suggestions on getting passed this?

I'm back! What's YOUR excuse?

2008-10-23T17:49:00.001-04:00

I absolutely NOT going to tell you why I haven't been blogging. I don't have a good enough imagination to come up with a good enough reason that'll make people say "oh, that's ok! Glad you're back" instead of "oh you dolt! Why do you think you deserve to have anyone even BLINK in your blog's direction.
So I am back. If you are actually reading this, email me (karpoozi123 at yahoo [dot] c0m) and I'll send you an award for the worlds most patient person.
I will be posting, so please come back!

...and aint nobody gonna stop ME!

2008-08-12T00:23:00.002-04:00

This morning (which would really be yesterday morning, as I intended to post this earlier today...), when I checked my blood sugar, I smiled, for the first time in a while. (I have smiled plenty recently, but not at my numbers.) It was 103. Not awful for a fasting number, but not amazing either. So why did my face break into a grin that lit up my face? Simple! You see, I went to sleep 107.

Awesome basals, huh?

Ok, I know my basals aren’t really that perfect. Well, not too perfect at all. How else would I explain the 176 dropping to 102 with no correction and no active insulin? (No, that isn’t an example. That happened on Saturday night.) Maybe it was a fluke, like a leaky pancreas. Or maybe it was a secret enemy of mine injecting me secretly with some insulin. (Hey ya never know…!) Whatever it was, last night was AWESOME. And I intend to take full credit for it, and aint nobody gonna try to stop me!

I never was a fan of roller coaster rides

2008-08-07T19:20:00.003-04:00

Today was awful. I should probably stop there, because my mother always taught me that if you have nothing nice to say don't say anything. I have NOTHING nice to say about today. Ok, I have one. It started out 80. NICE. Well, it would have been, if I wouldn't have dropped for no good reason.

My boss asked me to call the help center and have them teach me step by step how to do something. NOT a good time to have my blood sugar drop. Trust me. Just as I finished dialing, and I heard the mechanical voice telling me to listen carefully as their menu options have changed, I noticed it. You know what I am talking about. The shakiness that seems to start at the inner core of my body, the lightheaded feeling that renders you a complete idiot for the duration, the rapid beating of my heart that makes me wonder if some wild animal has taken shelter inside of me. Ya, THAT. So as I am listening to the other mechanical voice reminding me that my call is very important to them and that they are very fair and thus my call will only be taken in the order it was received, I pull out my purse and figure I can discreetly test, and even treat my low blood sugar, while I am on the phone. I reached in, and had a sickening realization. My meter was still on the passenger seat of my car, right where I left it after I checked before I began driving. (Take note mom!) Oh joy. So I do what I usually do when I am low, and I make a lousy decision. I just THINK I am low. If I test now and see that I am 126 the symptoms will disappear. So I decided to convince myself that I was not really low. Funny how that didn't work. So I tried my best, and listened as attentively as I could to the rather impatient customer service representative who probably deals with lots of people each day who think that they are the only ones who can't focus. I got off the phone, and immediately dashed off to my car. Well, no, that isn't quite right. I staggered dazedly to my car. Either way, I don't think I was ever that happy to see my car before. I stumbled in, and grabbed at my meter the way a drowning man grabs at a rope. I check.......58. Oh. So those symptoms weren't psychological after all. I used my last ounce of strength to grab my juice, and gulp it down.

End of story? I wish.

Before I continue, I want to say that the rest of the events of the day were not a result of overtreating the low. I had the juice, and that was IT. (Ye, you can applaud now...)

Anyway, fast forward a few hours. I am finished at work, ready to go home. BG is 79. Looks like I UNDER treated that low. No problem, I am ready to eat lunch anyway. It was after lunch that I was ready to scream. WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? 242????

Oh GOSH. I bolused enough. I don't know what I did wrong!! Rebound? Whatever it is, I call it misery. That is a big swing. Much bigger than I am used to having. My last a1c was 5.6. (Thank you. Really, thank you. No need to praise me like that. Really, it's fine. thanks...lol) You don't get an a1c like that with fluctuations of close to 200 points in one day. I don't have days like this. :( And I wish I knew WHY!

Whatever. At least I warned you....

Life Lesson Number 34621

2008-08-07T00:27:00.001-04:00

Don’t bother to brush your teeth. It doesn’t pay.

Here’s why: It is 1:47 am. KB is getting ready for bed. She showers, gets into pajamas, brushes her teeth, and does all the rest of her usual night-time rituals. She is really tired by now, but she manages to keep her eyes open long enough to check her blood sugar. 72. While that number is not that low, it is too low to go to sleep. So she opens her drooping eyes once again, and searches for some food. She doesn’t want to go all the way to the kitchen, so she fumbles through her bag. Her fingers touch a food-storage bag, and she picks it up to examine her prize: DRIED APPLES! Yum. Well, sort of. Um, ok, not very yum at all. Not at a quarter to 2 in the morning. Whatever it is, she knows it will have to do for now. She starts eating, just wanting to close her tired eyes. She is vaguely aware, in the back of her mind that her newly-brushed teeth now have little bits of dried apples stuck in between them. She knows that her dentist would probably faint in shock as she makes her next decision. She opts to close those poor, weary eyes, and get some sleep, not to brush out the remnants of her unwilling midnight (2 am?) snack.

A non-diabetic reader might come up with their un-educated solution: KB should check her blood sugar before she brushes her teeth.

Only a fellow diabetic will understand how Murphy’s law plays into teeth brushing/blood sugar checking dynamics: It doesn’t matter what your blood sugar was before you brush your teeth. After you brush your teeth you will be low. Even if you are 167 before you brush your teeth. Even if you use sugar flavored toothpaste. It doesn’t matter.

Just don’t bother.

And next time you read the colgate ads telling you that as a diabetic you have a 725% higher chance of developing gum disease, you know why.

(and don't anyone ask me what life lessons number 2-34620 are, but I can tell you life lesson number one:

"Always remember, don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things!")

Little Did She Know!

2008-08-04T16:05:00.002-04:00

I didn’t mention it in my post about my vacation , but I came home with such bad mosquito bites that I was scared it was some kind of terrible rash or something. Realize that I am not very alarmist, but I was really scared. It took a minute for me to notice that the “rash” was comprised of angry red bumps and their surrounding red areas of itchiness. It only took a matter of days for my compromised immune system to take my little dots and turn them into awful looking lesions.

So yesterday this acquaintance of mine, who does not know I have diabetes, was looking at my hands. She saw the spots all over them. Being a new mother, she was freaked out. She began pulling her 2 month old baby away from me, and simultaneously squeaked out: “do you have chicken pox?” I had to calm her quick, before she called an ambulance for her baby, who was stirring at this point. “No, I do NOT have chicken pox!” I reassured her. “I went on vacation and got a lot of mosquito bites!” She was still unsure. “But so many?” Again, I reassured her, “Yes, I got a LOT of mosquito bites.”

“Wow”, she commented. “You must have SWEET BLOOD!”

As in HIGH BLOOD SUGAR? How the heck did she know? I was having one of my highest days in recent memory!

hypoglycemia is not in the dictionary?

2008-08-02T23:51:00.003-04:00

I discussed this system, of checking on my friend and her checking on me in order for both of us to insure that we are taking care of ourselves.

So it is time to eat supper. I check, and then text my friend "I am 60. What are you?"

A minute later she texts back "WHAT???"

So I replied "Ye, and how do I document hypo unawareness?" (OT: hypoglycemia is not a word in my phone's T9 system.)

My friend: "huh?"

Me "you know how I hafta prove that I have hypo unawareness to get covered for a CGMS-so how do I document it?"

She didn't know, and neither do I. But I DO have hypoglycemia unawareness. I didn't feel that low one bit! I feel some of my lows, but not all of them. I need that sensor, ok?

Ye right. As if they care.

Checking Each Other!

2008-07-31T17:08:00.004-04:00

One of my diabetes friends came here for a visit today. It was great. When she came into the car I realized it was time to test. I started hiding my meter, by instinct. (I don't hide it out of secrecy, I just don't think people like to see this.) Then it hit me. She won't mind seeing this. She has seen this before. It was a VERY cool feeling.

We were walking around the mall, shopping and having a good time. At one point, my friend opened her bag to pay and a used test strip fell out. I burst into laughter. We diabetics REALLY can't hide...the trail of strips follows us. I pointed it out to her, and she started laughing too. "Oh well" she said, "they are bound to fall out." "It's ironic" I told her. "I just cleaned out my bag this morning. Guess how many used test strips were on the bottom?" She wasn't shocked to find out that there were no more and no less than 23 strips. (And I cleaned it out a week ago!) Nor was she shocked that I counted. You see, this is the same person who counted her mosquito bites after her trip. (My left thigh alone had 26. I thought it was chicken pox. No kidding.)

Here is the best part of our visit. We made up to keep on top of each other. We had done this a few times in the past, and it worked magnificently. We were lamenting to each other though, that lately we were both slacking. So we made up to remind each other. But then I commented that just because I remind her to check does not mean I checked myself. So here is our new rule. No more "whats ur number" texts. From now on it is "i am xx. whats ur number".

So I dropped her off, and went home. When I got home I tested. 135. So I texted her: "I am 135 :-( what are you?" just as I sent it, I got a text from her: "I am 85. Whats ur number?"

Ok, so this system seems to be working. So far.

Why you shouldn’t predict the future

2008-07-30T22:34:00.003-04:00

You will look like a fool.

Simple as that.

Imagine this scene:

The year is 2020, and some newly diagnosed type one diabetic is searching online for resources and support. She somehow stumbles across my blog. With interest, she begins to read. She is, of course amused to see that the most recent post was in October 12, 2010. (No that is not the date I intend to stop bloging, just an example.) So she reads from the beginning. She reads my post for CGMS denial day, and immediately begins to laugh. She doesn’t believe it. She tries to figure out if it is a joke. What is this blogger.com? Some old fashioned thing? After a while, she concludes that it is for real. This is not a joke. In the “olden days” of 2008, people had to fight insurance for basic things like a glucose sensor. (Then she begins to wonder if 12 years before that they had to fight insurance to cover insulin…)

I had a similar experience yesterday. I came across an old discussion list for insulin pumpers. Many of these were on the minimed 507C. Some were on the new minimed 508. There was no animas yet. The other pump company at that time was d-tron. The conversation I was reading was a wish list of features they wanted minimed to include in future pumps:

-Some kind of built in calculator, that you would put in the amount of carbs you were eating, and it would figure out for you the amount of insulin to take. They were not sure if this was doable, and if so, whether or not doctors would go for such things. What is wrong with the mini-calculator the guy has hanging from his keychain?

Check.

-A new kind of temporary basal. This innovative method would increase the basal by percent, rather than a blanket amount across the board. This would be very helpful for people who use multiple basal rates, so they wouldn’t have to remember to change the temporary basal amount every time the basal rate changes.

Check.

-The possibility of bolusing in .1 unit increments. Wouldn’t that be marvelous?

Check.

-A cancel button. I misunderstood this one at first. I thought it was referring to a suspend option. I read further and realized that they were referring to the escape button. Sometimes they clicked into the wrong screen by mistake, and they had to wait for it to time out before they could go into the right screen.

Check.

-A pump which vibrates to alarm, rather than beeps. This would be good for deaf people, as well as people in meetings or people who wish to be discreet.

Check.

-There is a new feature called the “square wave” bolus. Wouldn’t it be great if we could combine that with the regular bolus? (“dual wave”)

Check.

Now do you see what I mean? People sound so silly when they predict the future!

See what I mean?

Perspective Again

2008-07-29T12:03:00.006-04:00

There is this new book I am very into. It is called Miracle Ride. It was written by an orthodox jewish girl (like me) who was diagnosed with Hodgkin's in 11th grade. She writes about her experiences with chemo in such a beautiful, humorous manner. The following is paraphrased from her book:

A child, who was newly diagnosed with leukemia, was leaving the hospital that was to be her "home" for the coming months, together with her distraught mother. The mother barely knew what to say. How do you explain to a child the ins and outs of becoming a cancer patient? How do you minimize the awful affects of a chemotherapy, when the child will soon see for themselves just how awful it is?

But the girl had her own things to talk about. "Mommy," she began, "did you see the fun toys they had in the playroom at the hospital? I am so lucky that I will be able to play with them like all the kids there!" The mother, shocked, blurted out "but did you notice that none of them had any hair?" The little girl smiled, "yes but that just makes them luckier! They don't have to worry about their hair getting oily!"

Wow.

I wrote a few posts about perspective already, and I am going to step away from the serious posts soon, but I had to write this for myself. I needed it.

One more:

There was once a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.

"Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today," so she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw she had only two hairs on her head.

"HMM," she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today," and she did and she had a grand day.

The next morning she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw she had only one hair left on her head.

"Well," she said, "Today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail." So she did and it was a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.

"YEAH!" she exclaimed, "I don't have to fix my hair today!"

Paranoid? Oh Yeah!

2008-07-20T14:45:00.005-04:00

My friend was sick last week. It was quite worrisome, because she lives pretty far away, so our only contact is through texting, IMing and the occasional phone call. Monday night I suddenly realized that I hadn't heard from her all day, so I gave her a call. No answer. I sent her a text saying "is everything ok? Please text or call! I am worried!"

The next day she texted me that she left her phone at work and she just got it back. End of story? No. I wish.

I barely heard from her all day, and so I called her that night. No answer. The next day, late afternoon she still had not made any contact. You have to realize that it is so unlike her. Normally we won't go an hour without texting each other. Finally thursday night, after a couple of phone calls she texted me. "I am too sick to talk on the phone" She wrote. "Call my mother if you'd like". I thought she was trying to scare me, so I asked for her mother's number. She told me she would have her mother call me. A few minutes later, my phone rang. It was her mother.

Apparently she had some kind of mysterious health problem and the doctors were trying to figure out what was going on. Her mother (who doesn't even know I have diabetes) commented that her daughter's biggest fear that it was some kind of blood sugar problem. LOL. I WONDER where she thought of that from??

Anyway turns out it was some strange virus, and she is getting better now, but I found that REALLY funny. Am I the only one who's acquaintances all think they have diabetes?

Speaking of paranoid... ::rolls eyes::

Goodbye OXFORD, Hello GHI!

2008-07-15T15:34:00.002-04:00

I think my thoughts regarding my old insurance company, oxford, are quite clear. Today I am switching to GHI, so we will see how THEY are (read: if they cover a CGMS for me.) I wonder if I am just really hard to please, or if the insurance companies are really that bad. Probably a combination of each…

One thing I did, as a goodbye present to oxford, is refill everything I possibly could and order new pump supplies. Well, not everything. Some things are cheaper under my new plan, such as generic drugs. I was not sure how much GHI is going to charge me for pump supplies though, so I made sure to refill those. I called yesterday though, so minimed had to ship it yesterday. Now I am trying to find out how and when I can get my new insurance card and I will start my evaluations.

A note about CGMS and GHI: my CDE, who I LOVE told me that under GHI it should be easier to get CGMS coverage than under OXFORD. I hope she is right…

Continuing Pharmacy Saga

2008-07-14T16:37:00.001-04:00

So yesterday’s tale ended with me resolving to switch pharmacies, and left with a month’s supply of the wrong test strips to return to the pharmacy. 4:30pm yesterday I went in to the pharmacy to yell at the woman and switch the freestyle strips for one touch strips. Imagine my shock to find out they are closed. (STRIKE!) They close at 3pm on Sundays. So I bring my strips back to the car, and leave ‘em there, figuring I will go first thing in the morning.

Fast Forward to 8:50 this morning. I am ready to leave the house. I open the door, head to my car, and almost begin to cry. I left the two back windows, as well as the sun-roof of my car WIDE OPEN. And it RAINED last night. Furious with myself, I head to the car, prepared to walk around with a wet bottom all day. (Don’t you just LOVE Mondays? No? How about wet Mondays?) I reached the car, and glanced through the window to survey the damage. My cup holders were full to the top with water. Right between the two seats, I have this little ledge sort of thing, which was totally flooded. And on it: a month’s supply of freestyle test strips, waiting to return to the pharmacy. Groan.

I know this part of the story is my fault, but if she had sent me the right strips to begin with THIS WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED.

AND DON’T TELL ME I AM YELLING BECAUSE THIS IS NOT CALLED YELLING.

Wow. That felt good.

Coming tomorrow: Wet strips: Do they work or do they not work? THAT will be the question!

Pharmacy Woes

2008-07-13T13:28:00.003-04:00

The other day I call the pharmacy, in a bit of a panic. I was almost out of test strips. The pharmacist knows me (LOL) and promises to send over the onetouch strips THAT day. I get home later and see the strips have yet to arrive. So I call the pharmacy and ask C, the pharmacist what happened. "Oh, I don't have any strips but I will send them over first thing tomorrow." WHAT?!?! Did I not make it very clear that I am almost out? Did you not PROMISE me you'd send them? Have you not yet figured out, from sending me all my medications for the past 9 months that I have TYPE 1 DIABETES and I NEED to test myself?

Sorry, but that is wrong. You could have TOLD me you didn't have them.

Anyway, I dig in my drawer and find another bottle of test strips. Crisis averted, end of story, right?

Wrong.

Fast forward to the next day. Doorbell rings. Pharmacy delivery guy is at the door, bag in hand. I grab the bag, mutter a thank you, and rip it open.

WHAT?!?!

FREESTYLE TEST STRIPS?

LADY, that is NOT what I ordered! That is NOT what my prescription is for. That is not what works with my meter! If you are incapable of filling prescriptions, perhaps you should not be running your own pharmacy?

Not to self: Find a new pharmacy!

Bogus Cures

2008-07-10T10:23:00.006-04:00

Yesterday I was in one of those holistic health centers. (NOT for me, I was picking someone up). I should probably start by saying that I am very skeptical of these things to begin with. Then I see this sign: If you suffer from any of these conditions then *** is for you. I scanned the list and was and was angered to see that diabetes was listed.

So I went to their website, and read some testimonials:

Wow! My uncle is 73 and has struggled with diabetes for a number of years. It had progressed to such a severe case that his numbers had spiked as high as 600 and even 1100 one time. The Dr.s told him it was a miracle he survived those two bouts, and they have struggled for a long time to keep his numbers in some kind of a 'normal' range.
After taking *** for just a few weeks, his blood sugar levels leveled out at around 128! He and our family are elated with ***! His energy level has returned to a his normal self, and he is able to do activities that were previously restricted. Thanks ***!

I have an idea. Rather than try these holistic things, why don't you try INSULIN?? Now I have to say that I don't believe that testimonial. Sorry, but there is no way in the world that FRUIT JUICE will cure diabetes. Yes. That's right. This product is some kind of glorified FRUIT JUICE.

Oh the hypocrisy! ::MAD::

feelin' LOW

2008-07-08T11:41:00.003-04:00

When I woke up this morning, I couldn't pinpoint it, but I felt lousy. I simpy could NOT get out of bed. I tried getting dressed, but for some unfathomable reason it was taking a really long time. Then it hit me: CHECK. Duh.
A minute later, my meter read: 58.
Lovely. Just lovely. I ALREADY know it's gonna be a GR8 day. :rolls eyes:

I just love eating breakfast when I am low. I stumbled down to the kitchen and opened the fridge. First off I had a cup of juice, just to get me started. Then I opened the cabinet and spotted a big bag of apple chips. I finished it, then I looked around for more. Then I sat down to 2 bowls of cereal. Then I had some cherries. Then I got a stomachache.

Reminds me of the song:
"Mary had a little lamb,
a little eggs,
a little ham,
a little toast,
a little jam...
and a BIG stomachache."

Remind me next time to STOP after the third course...

Riddle: What is a Dentist's Dream and an Endocrinologist's Nightmare?

2008-07-04T17:30:00.005-04:00

Last night, I was in the New Jersey State fair in the meadowlands. I had a lot of things to say about it, but I don't have time, so I will say this:

We walked into this little shop, which turned out to be a maze (literally. The tables were set up in a way that you had to walk through them all to get out) of candy. Piled HIGH. (No pun intended.)

My first words were: "wow, this place is a dentist's dream and an endocrinologist's nightmare".

There were probably millions of grams of sugar in that room, and I am not exaggerating.

There was enough candy there to treat a lifetime of lows.

I thought I would go up to 400 just walking through it.

(I didn't....lol).

I'm Tired and Thirsty

2008-07-03T12:17:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was a high day, you know one of "those". It made me think of this really funny joke that I read on jewlarious.com, a jewish humor site:

The Italian says, "I'm tired and thirsty. I must have wine. "

The Frenchman says, "I'm tired and thirsty. I must have cognac."

The Russian says, "I'm tired and thirsty. I must have vodka."

The German says, "I'm tired and thirsty. I must have beer."

The Mexican says, "I'm tired and thirsty. I must have tequila."

The Jew says, "I'm tired and thirsty. I must have diabetes"

The insurance company is a bunch of nincompoops

2008-07-02T09:50:00.005-04:00

...and some other random observations on life...

The other day I got a package in the mail from my insurance company-all about diabetes. So nice of them to think of me. NOT.

The first pamphlet that I noticed was all about how and why I should quit smoking. Because if I could have only managed to quit smoking before I was diagnosed (with type 1 diabetes) at the age of 12, maybe I wouldn't have it now! Uh...wrong. I don't smoke. Nor have I ever smoked.

Next, there was a pamphlet explaining that testing often is the key to good diabetes control. That's what made me blow my stack. Forget my fight for a CGMS. The stinkin insurance company only wants to pay for 200 test strips per month. Do the math. Figuring I loose one in 10, (due to error or need to recheck) that is 180 strips per month. That is 6 strips a day. I use more than that. So, "CHECKING OFTEN IS THE KEY TO GOOD DIABETES CONTROL", huh? just HOW often? Huh? Huh? Huh?

The rest was the typical....assuming I am type 2, take a pill once a day, check once in 2 weeks, kind of garbage.

Moral of the story: Insurance companies are all a bunch of nincompoops. I am SURE that'll be applicabe elsewhere in life ;)

Oh, and another thing: next time, before you print up so many fancy color pamphlets and offer me to help me quit smoking and all kinds of weight loss things, can you please rather put the money towards a CGMS for me?

REQUEST FOR CGMS: DENIED BY INSURANCE: My open letter to insurance companies

2008-07-01T10:36:00.007-04:00

I wake up, feeling disoriented, dizzy, confused, and shaky. It's a feeling that I unfortunately know well. Throughout my 8 years with type 1 diabetes I have experienced this many times too many.

I reach for my blood sugar meter, resting as always next to my bed. My hands are shaking really badly. So badly in fact that I can barely put the strip into my meter. With great difficulty, I poke my finger, squeeze out some blood, and put it onto the strip. It only takes a few seconds for the dim back light of my meter to display a diabetic's worst nightmare: LO. Meaning my blood sugar level is so low that the machine can not register it.

For the first time in my 19 years I begin to really fear for my life.

Here I am, in bed, it's 2:30 in the morning, and my blood sugar is literally off the charts low. My life is flashing through my head. Scenes are replaying themselves in my mind. Is tonight going to be the last night of my life? Meanwhile, all my brain can focus on is "gimme sugar. gimme sugar now." It's not easy to get up when my body is suffering from a severe lack of sugar. It's not easy to think, or even move, when my body is in such a state.

Where is that emergency sugar supply I keep next to my bed? A few long seconds of rummaging later, and I remember that I used it yesterday, and forgot to replace it. I don't have any sugar here.

It's a very long walk (though in reality it's a mere few feet) to the fridge for some juice. I am holding onto the walls, unsure if my legs will hold me. It's the most difficult thing I have ever done, and it's not made any easier by the urgency of the situation. I know that every second counts, but I just can't get these legs to move any faster. I know I should call for help, but my voice box seems missing in action. And I can't think very clearly because I am so low.

It takes a while to bring my blood sugar up from such a low number. I particularly hate these middle of the night lows. Somehow my brain is half asleep and not able to know when to stop. I keep eating. And eating. And eating. And eating. By now my brain is capable of a few thoughts and I groan inwardly, knowing the repercussions of this will hit me real soon.

It's about a half hour later, my hands have finally stopped shaking, and I finally go back to bed. Needless to say, my stomach hurts. It doesn't like being filled at such an hour. I go to sleep, cheated out of half an hour, knowing that tomorrow I am going to be feeling this all day.

7:30 the next morning. My alarm clock goes off. I open my eyes a crack, and wonder why I feel like I am having some kind of hangover. The events of last night come spilling into my mind, and it all makes sense. That's why my head is throbbing. That's why my stomach is churning. That's why I feel like I hardly slept. That's why I feel so horrible.

I check my blood sugar, not really wanting to see the results of last night's adventure. I am not very shocked to see it's over 300 (about 3 times the normal amount).

I wish I could say this has only happened once. Unfortunately, thinking of this brings to mind the other ways diabetes has gotten in my way. The time my blood sugar was super high and I was throwing up and had ketones the day of some big final. The time my blood sugar was low and I couldn't take part in a big sports competition at my school. The week I spent in the hospital in DKA. The millions of times I wanted to eat but I had to stop and check my blood sugar and inject myself.

It's no wonder I get so frustrated when people say they did cure diabetes (meaning insulin). Insulin is not a cure. Look what it did to me last night! It almost killed me!

And when I deal with the constant-ness of this disease, it's no wonder I get so upset when people tell me that I will grow out of it soon and I won't have to deal with all this. After all, I have juvenile diabetes...

And when I deal with the unpredictability of diabetes, it's no wonder that I get so angry when people tell me that if I loose some weight I will not have diabetes anymore. Type 1 diabetes was not caused by being overweight. I did nothing to get it, nor could I have done anything to prevent it.

The thing that aggravates me most of all is that there is a device that could have prevented all of the horrible events of last night. This simple life saving device is called a continuous glucose monitoring system. It is a device which constantly monitors a person's blood sugar, and transmits the readings to a receiver. The receiver beeps when too high, or too low. Imagine if I had been wearing one last night. The CGMS would have woken me up long before it reached such a point. You know what else really upsets me? What if I hadn't woken up? Would my friend have awakened to find me "dead in bed"?

I wish I had the money to pay for this, but unfortunately I am a student and I don't have much money. It's kind of unfair that I have to worry about this though. I have insurance, shouldn't they pay for something that might save my life? Isn't that what I have insurance for?

Does it make sense that I should go to sleep worrying every night of my life, just so that the insurance company can save a few dollars?

I am speaking now to the big bosses over at the insurance company, to the people making the general policies regarding CGMS, to the people who rejected MY request for one:

Are you a parent? Do you have kids? You surely love those kids. Would you want to experience what my mother experiences nightly? Would you like to say good night to your child and wonder if it'll be the last time? If you had a child with type 1 diabetes, would you not go to any extreme to acquire a CGMS for them? Do you feel bad for my parents that they have to feel guilty that they feel so guilty that they can't afford to buy a CGMS for me? If you had a child with type 1 diabetes, would you feel differently about this issue? Why would you wait to experience it first hand?

Please rethink your decision!

My New Blog!

2008-06-30T12:38:00.003-04:00

I think it is about time....so I will start here: My blog! I can't promise that I will update daily but I will really try to update often. Deal?
Seeya around!

Btw-Are you wondering about the blog name? Read The Twinkie Squad by Gordon Korman! (And then you can tell me to grow up! ;)