Me: Exposed - Day 2

Friday

Today was different than yesterday.  But isn't everyday?  I had low after low after low.  It left me completely drained.  I am at the end of the day and I feel like I've ran a marathon.

I went to bed just after 2 am.  My sugar was 11.9 from finishing off my JK.er's smoothie and then his hot chocolate too.  It was really a few gulps... of each.  Who's gonna take insulin for that?  I guess I should have 'cause I spiked... Anyways, took a correction of 2.9 units and went to bed.

I woke up with an amazing BG of 6.7.  I rewarded myself with a bowl of Vanilla Almond - Special K.  I got the JK.er on the bus for school and walked the Toddler to Apko's house.  Meanwhile Hubby tinkers with the minivan and fixes the flat tire from the night before.

I half-jog back hom,  and bolus for the cereal I had 45 min ago.  I decide to do a DUAL WAVE (half the insulin up front and half over the next 1 hour).

I get ready for work in a whirlwind and I somehow make it on time for 9:30.  There's a storm coming but I don't sense it.  I go into work and launch into a busy morning.  I don't stop to breathe until close to noon.  The office has snacks again. Almond chocolate bars cut up in perfect bite-size pieces right by the photocopier next to a box of Timbits.  I hate and love snacks.  Alright, I love them, Sue-Lynn hates them.

I don't want a repeat of yesterday so I bolus for the snacks. I grabbed only two or three bites of the chocolate and 2 Honey Cruller Timbits.  Harmless really... right? I am due to grab my lunch in 15 min when in from the rain storm walks-in a walk-in.  I take the appointment expecting it to last 15 - 20 min tops.  The client keeps me in my office right through lunch.  I start crashing.  I am embarrassed to test so I try to plow through it.  I honestly start not making sense.  I am staring at the computer screen and I am having a lot of trouble concentrating.  I see spots.

I finally tell my client, "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to have to down a juice box.  I'm Type 1 Diabetic and if I don't get some sugar in me soon, it won't be pretty."  My client is young and so I don't really care what she thinks.  She makes the "I'm so sorry" face and throws me some pity.  I try to ignore it.    We end the appointment and I finally go to lunch 1 1/2 hours late.  My head is pounding.  I go next door for Chicken Shwarma and test.  I'm at 3.4.  Feeling horrible...I bolous and get back to work.

Back in my office,  I feel like laying down on the carpet and taking a nap.  My BGs have rocked me today.

The same tone carries for the rest of the evening, even after I arrive home.  I find that having a low or two kills me.   Even if I recover, even if I bounce back, I am still a mess for the rest of the day.  I feel the same with highs.

If I get on that roller-coaster at any point throughout the day I cannot put my feet back on the ground and walk a straight line.  The day is a write off.

So here's to a day that I've basically lost.  Today I arrived home and played a bit with the boys and snuggled and watched a movie with Hubby after they went to bed.  But I felt pretty horrible and was really struggling to stay with it.  I do not have the option to throw in the towel, to say I'm going to take a quick nap.  I was already away for most of the day - there is no way I can ask Apko to watch the kiddies for another 2 hours while I lay down or while I pick myself off the floor.

There is a book that my JK.er likes me to read to him.  It's a book about bedtime called "Pick up and Put Away".  On one page it says bedtime means, "... it's time to take pity on papas and mamas".  I sometimes find myself just counting down to the end of the day.  Not because my boys are such a burden or because they are hard to parent.  They are wonderful.  They make me so happy and seeing myself and my Hubby in them is the most rewarding part.  Sometimes I stop and stare at my JK.er - "That's a little me, in a boy version." And my Toddler - through and through my Hubby.  I think I am looking forward to the end of the day as a whole.  Some days.  Not all days.  But days like today are a perfect example.

Me: Exposed - Day 1

Thursday

I want to try something. It's risky. It's very out there. It will expose me. I want to post all of my results, my Blood Glucose readings, my food intake, my carb intake (yikes!) and my nurse's reaction at my next appointment on April 9th.

I want to show what living with Sue-Lynn is like.  The thought process that goes into being around her 24/7.  The extra extra steps required just to sit down and enjoy my lunch.

The other reason is to allow myself to be kept accountable.  Asking a diabetic as soon as they tested their BG, "Where you at?" is like asking a women the same question as soon as she steps on a scale... You are looking over the shoulder and it's rude.  If a diabetic wants to share s/he will.  BUT through out Me: Exposed, I want to give full access to my over-the-shoulder view for 10 days. Not a life-time.   I will document what I eat - hopefully with pictures for the most part; I will record down my BGs - every single one of them; and I will even discuss any stressors or anything that is out of the ordinary.

I've started keeping ridiculously detailed records as of this morning - I've had highs and I've had lows.  I've also had a few great BGs.  It's quite the rollercoaster - and me and Sue-Lynn ride this ride all day, every day.   I reattached my pump last night after midnight and thus one experiment ended (the pen month) and another one began - Me: Exposed

Here are some rules to keep in mind:
* please remember that I am human, and I make mistakes... often...
* I love carbs.  Not something I am proud of and my endo team calls me the Carb Queen.  Not really funny... but at this point at least I am aware of it.
* nothing is ruder to a diabetic than yanking food from in front of them with the comment "You can't have that."  Almost equally rude is not offering something to a diabetic because, "You can't have that" when you've offered it around the room.  And others notice and stare.  So don't [gasp] and shake your head at what I eat.  I have a busy life, as most of us do, and some days I am glad to get ANYTHING in me - mostly on the go.
*be encouraging.  If you can't say something nice, than say the thing that is not nice but say it nicely.
*if no one jumps on board to keep me accountable, that is a-ok.  I will have it out there and I will have a reason and a goal to test and test and test all day long while at the same time documenting what I am ingesting and what I am injecting.

Day 1

My day started after midnight last night.  It didn't start off so good.  At 1:30 am I got a new battery for my pump (a Medtronic MiniMed 723 Revel - I am convinced that is a spelling mistake.  They meant to call it a Rebel), rewound the reservoir holster (where the insulin in held inside of the pump) and filled a new reservoir with new NOVORAPID insulin out of the fridge.  I used the Paradigm Silhouette site inserter for the first time in 30 days.  It goes in at a 45 degree angle anywhere where you can "pinch an inch".  I prefer my tummy.  Most do.  It was surprisingly painless.  I guess I had forgotten that it usually is... painless.  I filled the tubing with insulin (that's the line that runs from my pump to my site), connected it to my new site on my tummy and ran 0.9 units as a Fixed Prime (that's to flush insulin through the inserted site and make sure you have no "bubbles"/air pockets.   Finally, done.  I smirked and tucked the pump in my shirt.  (Surprisingly most diabetic woman carry it shamelessly in their bras.  I noticed this yesterday at the Advanced Pumping Class.  I have been doing the same thing for quite a while, but I was always shy to reach inside my blouse and pull out my pump - like I'm pulling out a rabbit out of a hat.)

I went to retrive my tester.  Check the front lobby for my purse.  Nope.  Check the backs of the chairs in the dining room.  Nope.  Check the floor in my bedroom.  Yep.  Ok.  Bring it out into the light - hubby was already sleeping - and dig for tester.  I find the black little pouch among the other 3 or 4 other black little pouches - wallet, sunglass case etc - that are all black in my bag.  I test and I'm at 13.5.  "What?! Think, think.  What did I have within the last 2-3 hours?"  I find night time to be the worst.  I snack almost continuously.   I had left-over margarita pizza (tomatos, mozzarella, basil on a thin crust - Kirkland Pizza from CostCo ) around 10 but I insulined for it.  And then I overrode the Wizard with at least 2 units.   What is happening?  I correct the high - it wanted to give me only 3 units.  I forget that I have "insulin on board" (insulin that is still active - it has a 4 hr life cycle) and override the Wizard again to 4 units.

Satisfied with that decision I head to bed.

I wake up with a terrible case of Adrenaline at 5:30 a.m. and I test.  BG is 2.4. Yikes, that's low.  I head to the kitchen and drink Tropicana orange juice right from the jug.  I take about 3 big gulps and head back to bed.  I resist the urge to eat something - another symptom of a low.  On the one hand you feel panicked but alert due to the Adrenaline, on the other you are hungry for anything in sight.  Your body is in survival mode and it wants to eat the fridge to make sure you do not crash again.  I trust my decision for OJ and go back to sleep.

One hour later, my 1 and a half year old Toddler wakes up but it's still dark.  I will not pick him up at 6:30.  I head back to the kitchen and pull out a small pot.  Open the fridge and grab the bag of milk.  Start the oven to high on a small burner and warm up the milk.  A microwave would be faster but after my husband went through 6 months of chemo in 2009 for Lymphoma (cancer of the lymph nodes) we decided we would remove the microwave from our house.  Not saying it was what caused the cancer at all.  But rather, why risk it?  It's not such a big deal.  Except at 6:30 am.  I am still content with our decision and the baby falls back asleep with warm milk in his tummy.  I also go back to sleep.  I don't feel any of the low symptoms so I am sure I am normal again.  But I do not retest.

One hour later at 7:30am my 4 and a half year-old JK.er is in my bed.  He's in Junior Kindergarten at  a French-Immersion elementary school in our neighbourhood.  "Mama," he whispers. I am already awake because I heard his little bare feet take the short walk from his bedroom to ours.  "Mama," he tries again. "It's morning.  Wake up."  He snuggles next to me and I attempt to gently shush him so we can fall back asleep together.  Fail.  Within 10 minutes I am fighting a losing battle and I throw in the towel and get out of bed.  The Toddler is also awake and I can hear him singing and making other cute noises from the nursery.

My JK.er and I get the Toddler changed into a new diaper and we all make scrambled eggs together. Some eggs make it into the bowl without leaving shell pieces behind, others make it on the floor.  None the less, breakfast is a success and we have milk and coffee and my mom's homemade bread.  My BG reading is 3.4  So still low but not feeling this one as much.  Interesting.

 

I get my Toddler to Apko's ("grandpa" in our family) and head out to an appointment with my JK.er.  After leaving the house 2 minutes after the appointment started, I have to turn around when we pull up to the first light - Hubby called to let me know I had forgotten my pump.  I didn't even realize.  I am not surprised - it's the first morning on the pump in quite a while.

In the middle of the appt. at about 11:19 am I test my BG because I am feeling off.  BG: 5.5  Hm.  I wonder if I am dropping.  Note to self: test in 1/2 hr on the way to work.

 I reunite my boys at Apko's house and drive to work for noon.  When I arrive in my office I test again.  8.0  Hm.  I didn't take anything to bring it up to that.  Shrug my shoulders and start my day at work.  If I see a pattern of this around noon over the next few days I'll investigate further.

Around 2 pm I am still plugging away (I work in banking) and I pause to consider that I have not eaten since the eggs and coffee this morning.  I pull out a sad excuse for a snack: Mott's Applesauce and Mrs Field's Peanutbutter cookie.  I do not test but eat my snack and tell my Wizard on my pump that I am having 40 g of carbs.  I am feeling the effects of NO LUNCH.

At 3:33 I test and although I'm 6.7 (perfect!) I feel horrible.  Five minutes later I pop my head in my manager's office and tell her I am heading out for bite and I'll be back in 15.  I head over to a Pita joint across the street and order a Chichen Breast pita on whole wheat. I load it with green peppers, mushrooms, cucumbers, tomato, lettuce, cheddar/mozza cheese and a bit of tiziki sauce.  The girl (who happens to have two black eyes - no joke) warms me that the whole wheat pita falls apart more than the white.  I still choose it.  Point for me.   I do not insulin yet.

 I inhale the pita and cross the street and get back in my office in time for my 4 pm meeting.  As I discuss assets and wealth with my manager and a partner in my office, I swing my chair towards the opposite wall and pull out my pump out of my blouse.  You know what, it's 4:15 and I haven't taken insulin yet. I don't care that they are in my office.  I will be as discreet as I can be but Sue-Lynn is not very patient.  It's now or you'll pay later.

4:40 I start wrapping up my paperwork and head to the photocopier to scan some docs and other administrative stuff.  I pass by a box of treats for the office.  I could say no.  I should say no.  But instead I peek in.  They are simple Asian long stick "pretzels" dipped in chocolate.  The packaging is in Chinese so I don't know what they are called.  They come in individual packs of ONLY (I wish you could see my face now - I am rolling my eyes and smirking because I KNOW ME) ONLY 10 sticks.  I grab one and start munching as I finish the mandane tasks.  "These sticks are good," crunch, crunch on stick #4.  As I walk back towards my office I'm thinking, "Wow this Asian chocolate is so smooth".  Crunch Crunch stick #7.  By the time I log off my computer and lock up my desk at 5pm, I have finished the baggie and did not take any insulin.  But I did not realize that at the time...

I stop by to see the kids at Apko's house after work and rush to the pharmacy for some medicine for the Toddler.  He has an ouchie on his toe and we need the medicine to start working quick.  I have a Parenting class at 6 pm with Hubby and I have very little time.  I drop of the drugs and rush to make it on time.  On the way I down a vanilla Glucerna.  I grabbed the wrong ones at the store.  I wanted the chocolate but mistakenly purchased the vanilla.  I am not impressed but I still drink them when in a time crunch.  I knew there would be no dinner until later so this was the next best thing, I guess.  No problem, right?  I pull in the parking lot with 2 min to spare and say to myself, Self, make sure to take insulin once you sit down and are settled.  I test at my seat and I am 20.4  "That's crazy!" I exclaim internally.  Correction for the high, Bolus (meal insulin) for the shake = 6.9 + I add in 0.1 to make it even = 7 units.  "It's those Asian sticks!"  I didn't take any insulin for them!

Class starts and I try to not think about my sugars.

6:30 BG - 17.4  "It's coming down!"  There are snacks out popcorn & pecan butter tarts, I say no!  Point for me.  I grab a small paper cup of coffee instead, with a sprinkle of Splenda and a splash of milk.

7:10 BG - 13.4 "Great! Still coming down." Grab another small cup of coffee.

We get out early, 7:45, and I rush home and quickly pack up for a quick workout at the gym.  I haven't been in over a month.  My JK.er loves their Kids Program there, but time after time when I said we'd go, something has come up that prevented us from going.  Hubby stays home with the Toddler and tells me he'll take care of his bedtime.  Score!

We arrive at the gym at 8:20 pm and after dropping JK.er off, I head for the Elliptical machines.  The gym is located next to a Starbucks so I can catch their WiFi from that area.  I turn my iPad to Netflix and start an episode of the original Beverly Hills, 90210.  I make it through about 18 minutes when I start feeling completely spent.  I will myself to make it past 25 min.  I know it's been a while since I've been here but come on! 18 min?  Please.  Then I consider that I didn't test before commencing the workout... I wonder where I'm at.  Could it be that it's Sue-Lynn that is tired?  Is she whimping out on me?  I get off the machine at 21 minutes and wipe it down.  I walk halfway to the change rooms and realize I forgot my water bottle.  I turn around and head back.  I don't have the energy and I now know, it's Sue-Lynn!  Rebeca could go on for hours.  Heck, I ran a half-marathon... in 2009... haven't ran more than 2 miles since.  But still.  Something (read: someone) is off.


I get to my locker and test.  BG 2.8  Ok.  I have nothing with me.  Not even an apple.  I usually love to have an apple after a workout.  A tradition I started back in grade 7 cross-country running.  I collect Noah from Kids (he is in the middle of helping the girls clean up the room. How wonderful!) and we drive through 1/2 a block to McD's for their Fruit Smoothies.  We get one of each and I do not leave the parking lot until I have drank 1/3 of mine.  It's 9:15 pm and we do another drive-through: A&W.  Grab 2 teens for $6 and head home.

Tiered at the end of a long day, I enjoy my teen burger and smoothie (so counter my gym workout, but at least I went).  I bolus for the burger and for the smoothie and hope it works out.  Thankfully at 11:25 it turns out I did it right - BG is 6.4.  Small victory.

Tomorrow is another day.  Another ride.  Another chance to be friends with Sue-Lynn.  Let's see if she's play nice.

Advanced Pumping Class

I love Type 1 Diabetics.  I do.  I love to be around them, I love to hear about their stuggles, I love to be one of them.  I feel such an instant "connection".  I know that they know what I fight with everyday.  They know Sue-Lynn.  In fact, they know Sue-Lynn's brothers and sisters very well.  And tonight, I found out they also don't get along with members of Sue-Lynn's family.

My Diabetes Nurse Educator is the one that led the class.  She is fabulous!  She is the one that keeps me going, the one that encourages me and the one that sets me straight and kicks my butt when I'm off.

I still remember the first time I met my DNE.  I sat in her office (which happens to be this cozy little lunch room with a sky light at my endocrinologist's office - she is a traveling nurse, like a fairy godmother) and she was so sweet to me.  I was newly diagnoses (or mis-diagnosed rather, by my fam. doc who thought I have type 2 - AT 20 WITH NOT A POUND OVERWEIGHT... but I regress), scared and unaware of what lie ahead.  My DNE asked me questions and checked my feet.  She checked to see if there was any damage to the nerves in my toes.  (read: damages from Sue-Lynn stepping on my toes). All was well, she said but I was feeling overwhelmed.  My fam. doc (may he rest in peace - he was over 75 at that time!) told me I won't be able to eat tomatos anymore, that life will never be the same again... and other doomsday type stuff.  I was shellshocked.  But my DNE brought me back to normal.   She introduced me to Sue-Lynn and spoke kindly of her.  Although her and I won't always see eye to eye, we'll get along just fine.  She assured me many people have members of Sue-Lynn's family living with them too.  No one quite invites them in, they sort of take over... but it doesn't have to be hostile.  "Living with diabetes (read: Sue-Lynn) is doable."  I didn't not know who she was, but I was so scared of her.   She seemed like a bully.  I didn't want to get to know her.  I wanted to be normal.  I wanted to eat tomatos.

Little did I know.  Sue-Lynn and I would become the best of frienemies (sometimes friends and sometimes enemies; sometimes at the same time).

Some of the topics covered were Bolus Ratios/Basals/CGM.  The following "graph"/maze makes sense, but be sure to test your BG before trying to follow it along... if you are off right now, this will not make sense.  Correct/have some juice, wait 1 hr then try following along again. It's a bit confusing.  Hehe.

We also talked a bit about the Canadian Government approving Type 1 diabetics to obtain "The Disability Tax Credit."  In a previous post on my previous blog, Life of a Mom with Type 1 Diabetes, I went through and explained in detail how I applied and what forms I needed to use.  The Canadian Gov't didn't just approve it for that year and the ones to come, but also retroactively to the year I was diagnosed 2005.  I'm not sure how many years back they are able to go.  But applying is certainly worth it.  Jump through whatever hoops they ask and hopefully with your endo on board, you'll be all set.

The irony of me attending an "Advanced Pumping Class" tonight was that I am not wearing the pump [gasp!]  I have taken a pump vacation.  The month of February was a trail; a test; a vacation.  I  found myself not taking Sue-Lynn seriously.  Not on purpose.  I don't want to ignore her.  But I just did.  I've often forgotten to take a bolus (for a meal) or taken a second helping, or snacks ("Oh this one doesn't even count... okay just one more... ok last one.") and then finally I test BG and I'm through the roof.  Just having that pump in my pocket was too easy.  I just didn't take it seriously.  I decided that I needed to regress to the pen so that I would physically get up and go retrive my pen to take insulin.  And if I decided on more carbs I would have to "re-stab".  I was hoping Sue-Lynn and I would see a little more eye to eye.  And I think that has happened somewhat.

The room was full of pumps tonight.  So you can imagine how many beeps I heard through out the class.  I heard the short one - bip; the medium one - beep; and the long one too - beeeeeep.   And a part of me missed my own pump, back at home in a drawer.  Even though an entire month had passed without hearing that good old familiar beep, every time someone's pump in the room went off I subconsciously perked up a bit and almost reached for my ... um, pump?  I shared that with the class and they were all pretty surprised.  I explained my reasons for volunteering to go take 50 steps backwards to the pen and I hoped my reasons made sense.  Hearing myself say them out loud though made them sound childish and immature.  It was primary due to self-disciple?  Really?  It comes down to that?

What shook me up a bit was the part where we talked about basals (the background insulin that trickles in all day long).  We were discussing how to tweak your basals so that it really works well for the different times of day (ie. dawn phenomenon).  All I kept thinking was, well I take 14 units of Levemir (long acting insulin) at midnight and then it just does its thing until midnight the next day... but that's not what my body needs.  My body needs more in the morning, NONE between 12-4 and a medium amount around supper then low need until the next morning.  The Levemir was steady.  I don't need steady.  Why use this ancient method of handling my diabetes, when something much better is available and not just available but waiting for me in my drawer at home.

So I decided to go back to it.  :)  I can say with confidence I missed the techy and very *me-tweaked* pump.  I smiled in Sue-Lynn's face, and I think she smiled back.  I made the right decision.  For once, we are both happy.

The White Rabbit

No matter how early I wake up, I am constantly chanting, "I'm late. I'm late. I'm late." I am the white rabbit. Perpetually late. And being continuously late has negative consequences on me, my goals, my family, my social life. I really want to alter this way of living... But I'm not sure what needs to change. Or rather how to change.

As I type this I am stranded in a parking lot downtown (thankfully in the middle of the afternoon).  I was running late (think: White Rabbit) this morning on my way to work and did not have time to fill up gas - even though the low gas light was on. "I'll do it first thing on my way home," I thought as I watched the needle drop almost off of the red (as in, past the low gas warning area).

 After work I hop in my car, I'm thinking about the dinner I did not plan and what I'm going to feed the family (keeping in mind that it's 5:45 and I haven't a clue what's for dinner)...  I'm distracted and I forget. I forget to head for a gas station; I forget my minivan has low tolerance for driving with no gas; I forget to look down at the gas gauge. Until I remember. And by now I'm in heavy 6 pm traffic and I need a gas station, STAT.

The needle has dropped off the grid and I know my gas tank will require CPR very soon. iPhone tells me where to go and I try to take the shortest route. With 3 blocks to go, I feel the car do that thing where it's acting like a mule - stubborn to move forewarn and jolting me one inch at a time. I quickly turn the wheel to try to steer out of traffic and into an overpriced downtown parking lot to my right. I crank the wheel and the minivan somewhat takes the turn towards the parking lot. The van feels the slight incline of the ramp and the few drops of gas I have left in the tank moves to the back... the minivan dies.

My butt is sticking out in traffic, my nose is blocking the exit of the parking lot and as if I'm not pissing off enough downtown folk, I've even managed to block all pedestrians. Great, I mutter. Just great. Today, out of all days, I'm wearing a pencil skirt with no stockings and high heels. It's 5 degrees C. I'm wearing a bright pink top and pink scarf and I ran outta gas. I can't believe what a ditz I must look like. I can't even push my own minivan off the road/sidewalk into the parking lot. Typically I have no problem doing stuff like that. I am not afraid to break a nail or to put my back into it. Today I simply can't. I'm cold, embarrassed and ill-equipped for the task that lays before me.

I do the only thing that I can - call Hubby.

He sounds annoyed but willing to rescue me.  I apologize for the inconvenience and thank him for understanding.  He doesn't really understand.  But he is gracious and tells me he'll be right there.

I get why he's upset.  I mean, sure, it happens to all of us once in a while.  But to me it must have happened 3 times in the last 12 months.  No joke.

Once in the middle of an intersection at about 11 pm at night.  I was on my way to meet him at a job site with midnight snacks and a second pair of hands to help finish the job.  I called roadside assistance and finally got out of that over an hour later.  I was so tired by the time I met him well after midnight, that I wasn't much help at all.

Second time was on my way to the gas station again.  On the way home from work.  Again.  And the minivan died about 2 blocks away on a slight uphill climb.  Again.   Hubby came to rescue me that time too.

Third time was in the middle of traffic (again!) in downtown Toronto with my friend.  We were at Spadina and Church (very busy intersection, in the left-hand turing lane) at about 10 pm at night on a Saturday.  We had just finished dinner at a sweet Moroccan restaurant and we were heading back to our hotel. Torontonians were not impressed.  A tow-truck brought gas over an hour later.  My four-ways were on for so long that my battery also died.  So although I had gas, I had no juice.  So the tow-truck had to give me a boost too.  Oh boy!  My friend was not impressed.

And this is the fourth... I'm not surprised he's not impressed.  Either way he is sweet and kind and he is coming.

So now what?  How do I mend my ways?  How do I fix this ridiculous way of being?

Not only do I put off important tasks but I also delay on testing my BG, changing batteries, even taking insulin.  My priorities are pretty mixed up I'd say.  People keep saying, I have to take care of myself in order to help those around me... but I have a hard time accepting that.  Although I understand it to be true - if my sugars are off, there is no way I can be patient with the kiddies or really even make rational decisions.  I know that to be true.  I have seen it happen.  I am a better mom, wife, friend, person when I take care of myself.

And I guess I can try to stop procrastinating... but not today.  Maybe tomorrow.

Sue-Lynn, THE SQUATTER

What is up with today?  I had nightmare after nightmare last night - everything from dogs attacking me, to B&E's in my house, to getting lost in a foreign country where I didn't speak the language and night was coming.  When my toddler woke up this morning at 7 am, I would have paid anyone a lot of money to allow me to sleep just one more hour.  It is now 2 pm and I still feel the same.

My older son is off to school (JK) and due back in about 2 hours actually; the toddler - who is 1 and a half years old - is visiting grandpa down the street; Daddy is off to work, and I'm Eeyore-ing around the house.   I should go to the gym, but I'd rather stay in PJs.  I should take out meat from the freezer for tonight... but then I'd have to plan out the meal (something that should have been done last week perhaps... but who has time for that?). I should do many things (including laundry, sort the socks that seem to continually divorce one another, do the dishes (from baking a cake on Saturday... it's Monday).  There are many "shoulds" if only this one would.

I guess I'm having a case of the Mondays.  I don't have enough pieces of flair and I didn't attach the PTS report... what can I say?

Add to all of this blood sugars (BGs) that are off.  "Define "off"", said my new counsellor last week.  I decided I need someone other than me to help me figure all this out.  I have a life long disease and I can't wrap my head around it.  I am doing somewhat decent but I have seen the light and I know I can do better.  Both pregnancies were fabulous.  A1Cs of 5.2 and not a thing touched my lips without me know exactly where my BG was at.  I stayed away from evil cereals (which happen to be my favorite: Apple Cinnamon/Honey Nut Cheerios or MiniWheats), I ate sensibly and understood the life long regret I would have if my little baby would have any complications or illness due to mommy not being able to resist that Honey Cruller Donut.  I wanted someone outside of my head to help me reason all this out.

She asked some pretty though-provoking questions as I spoke.  "What is my relationship with my diabetes?"  Relationship?!  Pretty dysfunctional.  We'll give my diabetes a name, Sue Lynn, so that I can yell at her like she's a real person.

Sue-Lynn is annoying.  She is constantly nagging.  "You should test. You shouldn't eat that.  I told you not to eat that.  You should change the injection site.  You don't want to have too many of those scars.  You should change your attitude.  Clean up your act.  Stop ignoring me.  Are you listening to what I'm saying?  When was the last time you tested?  I shouldn't even have to ask that.  You should know where your BGs are at constantly.  You don't feel well?  No pity here.  If you would have listened.  That's what you get.  And of course you won't go find your tester.  Where is your purse?  What do you mean you ran out of batteries?"

Constantly nagging nagging nagging.  I can't stand it.  And if I do go and "find my tester" (which is probably in my purse... but where is my purse?) and I find out that my sugars ARE off, then I can hear Sue-Lynn "Um-hm.  I knew it.  You didn't listen.  You know what you should do ('cause I'm always telling you) but you don't listen!"  Enter GUILT.

So, I hope my counsellor will be able to help me accept Sue-Lynn.  I can't get rid of her.  She is the worst SQUATTER in history.  There is no way to evict her and there are no authorities to scare her straight.  Only pregnancy.

Speaking of pregnancy.  I'm late. About 3 weeks.  But no pregnancy.  At least not last week when I checked.   Weird.  I think I'll pick up another tester today.  But I want to figure all this out and get better before I am pregnant.  Otherwise I'm always thinking about those first crucial 3 weeks before I knew... how were my sugars/what did I eat/how long did I have that high... and on and on it goes.

It seems Sue-Lynn and I have a long road ahead.  We've been together since 2005, 7 years ago.  I'm not sure how long she was stalking me, or scoping out the property.  She saw her opportunity right after I had strep throat that July and pounced on me like a lion.  Now, here I am feeling guilt-ridden, Eeyore-ing around the house on a beautiful Monday in Spring.  It's so unlike me.  I am Tigger not Eeyore.  I bounce and bounce and fill up my schedule with all kinds of things.  I enjoy life and love getting involved .  But today... well I guess I am just "off".