I have a low.

After spending the whole day tidying up the house (and then re-tidying up after my Toddler and JK.er ran around and caused trouble) I have a low.  I have a very low low.  2.4  I have downed a glass of chocolate milk and I am waiting... waiting to go back to normal.  In the other room I can hear Hubby reading a story to my JK.er.  It's so sweet.  I feel so blessed and loved in this little family.

Hubby came home from work very late today, right in time for our JK.er's bedtime.  He gave us kisses and asked how I'm feeling.  I said I feel low.  He asked me to test and said he'd put JK.er to bed.  After a whole day of electricianing on the job site, he offers to put the little one to bed.  I am so loved.

Today I was reminded of the first ever Type 1 diabetic blog post that I read.  I don't remember who the person what, but his post that day had this verse:

"Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God"

I was at work at my desk and I teared up at that promise.  Wow.  As a diabetic it's so scary to think of ever being out of reach of carbs.  But I have a sense that God will protect me.  I can look back and see the many ways that I have been rescued and saved from danger and I know God will protect me still.

This weekend Hubby and I are flying out to San Francisco and I am so excited.  We will be away for four days.  Gotta remember to pack ALL of Sue-Lynn's supplies.  And extra insulin.  And now that I took the recent pump vacation and became familiar with the pen again, I will definitely be prepared with back up pen and over night insulin JUST IN CASE.  I can't believe I lived for 5 years with no back up pens or anything in the house.  That is crazy.  But I am covered now.  San Francisco, here we come!

Test. Just Do It.

So the experiment was not as successful as I hoped.   Well, it did accomplish getting me to test; and I did wear my BG on my sleeve and photographed my meal choices.... those things were good.  I was able to look at that week and know what some of my patters were.  I was able to see how much I ate and how little I tested.  I was reminded to test and I paid more attention to my meals that I did in almost 2 years (since I carried the Toddler for nine months).

So I guess we'll call that a success.  And my endo team sure loved the idea.  In a whole week I had only one high over 20 and 2 in the mid to high teens!  That is good.  That is really good.  And a crap-load of BGs IN THE RANGE.  So many!  It was so great to realize that I am capable of doing it.  I just needed the focus and the goal.

Surprisingly the testing, recording the info and taking pics on my phone, where totally doable.  It was the compiling my day later that became tiresome.  I realized that I try really hard when I know that others will get a chance to see "how I'm doing".  I'm not just referring to the few faithfuls that I knew would be reading every day, but rather to everyone around me.

If I clean the kitchen, I want praise from someone; if I have a good BG reading, I badly want to share it with someone; if I do well at work, I need someone to confirm that "yes, you are doing very well."  I simply am not satisfied with doing it just for myself... I should just have a mini-victory-dance all by myself and leave it at that.  And besides most (er, all of those things) should just be done so they are done.  Not to receive praise or even a thank you.  I need to 'Just Do It" and not worry or care or look for the praise.  I can't wait for me to feel like it.  That's not how it works.  Those dishes will continue to pile sky high, as will my sugar if I don't test very regularly.

But I struggle with the concept of "do it for yourself."

I am instantly reminded of two verses:

"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men," Col 3:23 

and

"...They loved human praise more than praise from God." John 12:43

Maybe if I focus on those things.  I keep stumbling on "doing it for myself".  It doesn't sit well with me.  I try so hard in so many areas to not "do things for myself" that even when it comes to my health I struggle to understand... no, scratch that... accept the concept.  It goes back to the speech that you get from the flight attendant... "Make sure you place on your own mask, before helping someone else" and it shows a small child.  I mean, I get it.  If you can't breathe, how are you going to help someone else?  And that works with me as a diabetic too.  If my sugars are off I really do not do well with the kiddies or at work or in day to day conversations.  I have to take a moment to test, grab a juice/insulin and then I can deal with the boogie noses and the stubbed toes and the "Mama, mama, let's go outside.  Let's go outside!" 

I get all that.  I don't know why I still fight against it.  

One thing I know for sure.  I need to test so that I can see it and unless I am asked (by endo team, Hubby or other "nosey" person) I don't need to have someone pat me on the back and say, "Well done." (or worse, "Wow, that's high, right?") If the BG is good or bad, God will see it and I will know that the most important thing that I accomplished is "doing the right thing".  Every time I see my BG, it's always one of two choices: low = juice, high = insulin.  My new slogan should be "Just Do __the right thing__."   And in the end, that always tugs at my heart more than all else.  

Me: Exposed - Day 4

Sunday.

Before heading to bed on Saturday night I test and I am 9.4  Again with the slightly elevated night time sugars... but again we were TVing and I was snacking.  Not a bad reading... But still I correct the "high" with some insulin and go to bed.  (Just a side note, in the past 3 days I have started considering 9.4 a high?!  Wow, I'm rocking this!)

Kids wake me up at the new wake up time in our house 8:05.  This has been happening for the past week or so and I am not complaining at all. I wake up with a BG of 4.0 - woot woot!  Take insulin for the Mini-Wheats, almonds and FAT milk (as in 3.25... HOMO... I know. I know.  We decided to buy it for the kids... and it's so delicious. Who can say no and drink watered down version?)  65 g of carbs with Dual Wave - half now, half over the next hour.  We get ready for church and make it 10 min late.  (I have to do something about killing the White Rabbit.  It has got to stop.  But alas I have bigger fish to fry for now...)

After church we head over to Colasanti's, a tropical nursary garden complete with mini-golf, a restaurant and a petting zoo.  Toddler falls asleep on the way when we get there we are tiptoeing around trying not to wake him.  I test in the car because I don't feel great and I'm acting weird - on edge.  I am 9.4  Hm.  Weird.  I don't correct, and I don't know why.  

We head over to the buffet, pay and grab a sticky table.  I'm immediately not impressed.  Really?  It wasn't sticky from someone's jam that wasn't wiped off, it was the kind of sticky that was grime.  I tried to "change my attitude" as close friends of us always tell their kids, and be grateful for lunch together with my family.

The food was good.  I'm usually bad at buffets.  But today I was good.  I grabbed salad, cucumbers and tomatoes, beets (I know, right?), one skinny slice of veggie pizza and two baby roasted potatoes.  My JK.er punked one of my potatoes (so he has something to dip ketchup in, he said) and so I ate all the salad, half of the pizza and one of the baby roasted potatoes.  When my Toddler woke up, Hubby fed him the rest of my pizza and I headed for the dessert table.  I usually grab fruit and one or two sweet desserts (usually brownie or something equally rich).  I am not afraid to bolus a second time for dessert.  That's just how I roll.

But this time it wasn't necessary.  I barely had any carbs at lunch.  The bolus I took was for 80 g carbs (I did take the bolus when we first down at the sticky table... I know it seems like I was planning for "a lot of carbs" but we were at a buffet.)  I took it over the next hour and so now at dessert time I was ready to wonder over and browse the selection...  I grabbed one brownie square, half of a chocoalte cake piece with raspberries on top, and an old fashioned donut COVERED IN SUGAR. Hubby laughed when I came back with my little plate.  He helped himself to a bite of everything and agreed that my selection was great.  Overall, lunch was a success.  Minus the sticky table.

While my Hubby and JK.er play a round of mini-golf, the Toddler and I head over to the nursery garden to find something for my office at the bank.  I'm looking for a Bonzi tree but their selection is limited so we browse other areas instead.

I finally settle on a Stephanotis plant and now that mini-golf has ended and their time in the arcade is up, our Toddler is a mess.  He is crying and whinning and we take that as our cue to leave.  Head for the exits.

He cries all the way home and we put him to bed STAT.  Hubby lays down with him in our bedroom while I hang out with the Toddler.

That evening I make Upside-down German Apple Pancake - a recipe out of America's Test Kitchen.  It turns out great and the four of us devour it.  Immediately after I eat I test.  (A little backwards this time, eh?) and I am 11.3...  I did have a few bites about 15 min ago as I was rounding up the troops for "vecera" (a Slavic word for snack before bed).  Either way, I correct and take enough insulin for 70 g of carbs (something I will regret later).  I eat almost 2 of those slices of "pancake".

Kids go to bed (well they don't "go", we put them to it... I look forward to the day when they will "go to bed"... for now, routines save me.  Pee, brush teeth, sticker - for brushing teeth - PJs, book, pray, night-night.)

Hubby and I settle in for CRAZY STUPID LOVE and half way through I feel my tongue get funny.  I tell hubby I am crashing and he goes upstaris to retrive my tester and a couple juice boxes.  I test and BG is 2.6  Yikes.  Over-shot that insulin for the German evil pancake.  Ok it wasn't evil.  It was delicious.  I just really didn't want to spike from it (since it's all white flour and sugar... well the sugar was brown... but it's all the same).

I down the juice box and we finish the movie without any more interruptions from Sue-Lynn.  Before midnight I have to grab something to eat.  The juice box won't be enough and I don't want to crash in the night.  I have half of a piece of the pancake (LOL) and then go to bed.

Today was not so bad.  Not as fantastical as yesterday.  But still a win.

Me: Exposed Day 3

Saturday.

This morning started off gloriously.  The kids were happy, I was happy... heck, even Sue-Lynn was happy - my BG was 6.1.  That's at least 3 mornings in a row where my wake up BGs were amazing - simply perfect... but my night BGs are high.  From snacks... I always snack in the evening hours.  But on the other hand I can also confirm that my night time correction factor is perfect

For breakfast I made "eggies in a hole" but today it was eggie in a heart for daddy, and eggies in little people for me and the boys.  I can sort of see the outline of the gingerbread cookie shaper in the middle of my mom's homemade bread.  And to drink, blood-red orange juice.  Bolus for the bread and OJ (45 grams) and start getting ready for the Diabetes Expo at the Croatian Center.

I decided to take my JK.er along with me and he did great! He behaved wonderfully.  We picked up lots of magnets and pens and we filled out our SWAG bag full of goodies.  We sat down for the presentation by a representative from the Benting House that is located in London, Ontario.  A very knowledgeable curator from the museum gave the whole spiel on Canada's greatest discovery ("not invention" as he pointed out, "because insulin has always been there, Banting just discovered it").  I was moved to tears when he showed pictures of the first few 3 and 4 year-olds that were put on insulin for the first time.  Previous to their mom's seeking out Banting and offering their children for the trails, these kids were on a starvation diet with calorie intake of max 1000 Cal per day down to 400 cal per day. They were so malnourished; they were skin and bones.  Then it showed a picture one year later of two of the boys and they were both happy-looking plump and healthy.  I put my arm around my JK.er and dabbed at my eyes.  He was playing angry birds on my phone and I couldn't be happier to be the one with the disease and not him.


My Diabetes Nurse Educator was given a prestigious award at the EXPO.  I am so proud of her.  As I've mentioned before my DNE is amazing.  She has kept me on the ball and gotten me back on the straight and narrow.  I am so thankful to have her on my ENDO team.











The EXPO served some veggies and sandwiches.  I tested and my sugar was 6.7  I was so excited.  I wanted to show it to someone because I felt it was a small accomplishment.  I high-fived my JK.er instead.  He was the one that helped me test this time.  My boys insist on taking turns "pricking" my finger.  So the Toddler got to use the lancette device at breakfast and now my JK.er had his opportunity at lunch.

We had to leave and head over to a birthday party for one of my JK.er's classmates.  There was a clown, animal balloons,  snacks, cake, presents and a stubborn piñata.  Both my JK.er and the Toddler attended and we all had a good time.  The birthday girl is one of his little buddies.  More snacks, and a bit of cake.

By dinner time I tested and had another perfect BG - 6.1.  I made sirloin burgers and we had them with mozza cheese, tomatoes, ketchup and mustard.  More blood orange juice for a drink.  I bolused for those, another 50 g and get to tidying up the house.

Finally around 7 pm I went to the movie store with the kids and came back with Hannah, Franklin and My Big Fat Greek Wedding.  I already have CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE rented.  That will be tomorrow night's movie.

I grab a spoon and scoop some nutella on it.  My favorite dessert.  I didn't bolus for it and around midnight my sugar is 9.1 appropriately.  I can't believe how fantastic today was.  I was a good good good diabetic.  

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.