dblog week: memories

Wednesday’s prompt: Today we’re going to share our most memorable diabetes day. You can take this anywhere…. your or your loved one’s diagnosis, a bad low, a bad high, a big success, any day that you’d like to share. (Thanks to Jasmine of Silver-Lined for this topic suggestion.)

Hmm. Interesting. An entire memorable day of diabetes? Just did the math, and I’m looking at 12,015 days (32 years, 11 months) of diabetes so far. Lots of memorable ones in there. Here are just a few right off the top of the list:

5. the day I left my pump at home on the towel rack and jumped on a plane to a multi-day conference. I know, I blogged it before – it’s just so memorable. who DOES that? this girl, that’s who.

4. the 24 hours I spent playing board games, reading magazines, eating predetermined amounts of takeout food, and having my finger poked and blood drawn every hour, in a clinical trial for the Glucowatch, one of the first (was it the first?) CGM-type glucose monitoring devices. I still have the scar on my inner arm from where it sat and irritated my skin.

3. the day our daughter, MsDiva, was born. From 3am on Sunday morning when A. called to me and said it was time to go to the hospital, to 1:04pm when the Divagirl arrived; throughout the afternoon, evening, and night to the next morning…pure bliss with no memory of what diabetes was doing. I have no idea what my BG was during that time, I don’t remember testing my BG (this was back in my barely-testing, no-management days), and I have no idea what we ate (I assume we did, seeing as how my love had just given birth and all) or what I bolused. My diabetes took a back seat that day, very appropriately so. So much happiness.

2. the moment my dr. wonderfulendo told me that I didn’t have to be some “perfect” or “normal” weight in order to control my type 1 diabetes. All my life, from the time I was 7 at diagnosis, doctors and CDEs and nurses had told me that I was overweight, and that I needed to lose weight in order to manage my diabetes. (Note to medical professionals: this was an effective method to instill distorted body image and disordered eating, and convince me that I was not worthy of decent medical care.) I cried when I heard him say that although it would help if I lost some weight, he could help me get my BGs under control. This simple-sounding statement let me know that I was worthy of receiving top-notch medical care that would help me be healthier. It changed my life.

1. Last summer, I got to meet another diabetes blogger in real life for the first time. Cara, from Every Day Every Hour Every Minute, came to San Francisco with her bestie to see a little of the city and the final shows of the tour of their all-time favorite Broadway show, American Idiot. We met up in the morning, got a parking spot at the top of Lombard Street (!!!), walked up and down Lombard, drove around the city, stopped by the Painted Ladies/Full House houses and Alamo Square Park, lunched at Catch for some yummy seafood, and waited on line for rush tickets to the show that night. And the show was fantastic, BTW.

But the coolest, absolutely most wonderful thing was seeing/meeting Cara that first moment and feeling like we’d known each other forever. Despite the broken pancreata as our connection, we just CLICKED and it was like we were old friends. (Spending several hours together in the rush line helped us get real-life acquainted, too. Incidentally, it was the same kind of fabulous with her Type Awesome BFF – just without that diabetes connection.)

d-blogger meetup: two girls & their pumps, san francisco 2012

Oh, the memories…check out all the other memorable diabetes days on the Memories link list!

dblog week: we, the undersigned

Recently various petitions have been circulating the Diabetes Online Community, so today let’s pretend to write our own. Tell us who you would write the petition to – a person, an organization, even an object (animate or inanimate) – get creative!! What are you trying to change and what have you experienced that makes you want this change? (Thanks to Briley of inDpendence for this topic suggestion.)

Hello, medical schools, intern and residency programs in endocrinology! Also, greetings to nursing, dietician/nutrition, and CDE programs! Have I got a petition for you:

In order to form a more perfect union of fact and feelings; endocrine and emotional; medical and (real-life) mess…

In order to provide treatment for diabetes  that is more collaboration than compliance, and more recommendation than mandate…

In order to see people with diabetes as the human beings that we are, rather than some hypothetical model or ideal that we can never fully achieve…

We people with diabetes – of all types and treatments, all BGs and HbA1Cs, of carbs and/or protein, of various caffeines and d-technology –

Do solemnly (unless we’re reading some The Cinnamon, because really, that stuff is hil.ar.i.ous, and quite frankly, you should be reading it too) request:

All y’all need to do some time- and experience-intensive training in how to speak with us.

Because in those 7, or 10, or 15 minutes if the person after us has cancelled at the last moment, we really need you to make the absolute most of your time with us.

Ask us the right questions, about not only what we’re having problems with, but also what’s WORKING for us.

Spend most of your time listening to what we say.

Learn how to respond in ways that are supportive of where we are, and help move us (and help us make the choices to move) toward the healthier behaviors we already KNOW we could be using.

Have the most recent research available to support both your recommendations and OUR choices.

Don’t ever shame us or treat us like I’m stupid.

Listen to what we tell you. Ask us on-point questions about what we say, not about what you thought we said or should have said.

Tell us we’re doing a good job. Look and listen HARD to find something to compliment. Even if it’s just that we came to our appointment. (Because it’s not JUST that we came to the appointment. That could be EVERYTHING, for many of us, on some days…)

Refer us to resources that are worthwhile, that know what we’re going through, that are helpful. That don’t waste our time.

Don’t waste our time. These are our 7, or 10, or 15 minutes too. Make the most of them WITH us.

Play for my team. Cheerlead. Analyze. Strategize. Watch the play-by-play. Coach me on how to play better. But for cripes’ sake, play with me, not against me. And don’t just sit there on the sidelines, get in the damn game with me. I need you on my team.

In support of this petition, and in support of better and more training for medical professionals to treat people with diabetes of all types, with a firm reliance on the not-always-perfectly-accurate readings of our blood sugars and the protection of the injectable, oral, dietary, physical, and spiritual interventions necessary to keep us alive, we mutually pledge to you our interest in your success, our participation in the process, and our honor as people with dysfunctional pancreata who know what we really need in order to stay alive to the best of our abilities.

Signed, this Fourteenth day of May of the year 2013.

 

Click here for tons more We, The Undersigned petitions.

dblog week 2013: share and don’t share

Hey, it’s dblog week again! I’ve come out of hiding to see if I can pull a few posts together. Here’s Monday’s prompt:

Often our health care team only sees us for about 15 minutes several times a year, and they might not have a sense of what our lives are really like. Today, let’s pretend our medical team is reading our blogs. What do you wish they could see about your and/or your loved one’s daily life with diabetes? On the other hand, what do you hope they don’t see?  (Thanks to Melissa Lee of Sweetly Voiced for this topic suggestion.)

Hey, dr. wonderful. Great to see you here. There are plenty of things I wish you could see and know about my life with D. It’s not all pretty, but it’s me. Here we go.

1. I’m a few weeks away from my 33rd diaversary, and at this point in time, I’m wondering how the next 33 are going to go–and how I’m going to make it through them. In another 33 years, I’ll be 73 years old. On one hand,  I fully expect to make it there (and beyond) with few complications. On another hand, that’s a hell of a long time. It’s another lifetime. I’m already bored with all that d-maintenance takes. How am I going to make it through another 33+ years?

2. The dawn phenomenon seriously fucks with every weekday morning, and any weekend morning when I get up before 9am. Why can we not figure this thing OUT? We’ve tried slamming it with a honking basal increase from 6-9am. We’ve tried a graduated increase starting at 4am, then again at 6am, until 9am. We’ve also tried a lesser increase from 12am onward. I’ve tried not eating breakfast (BG still rises at least 50, more like 75, points in an hour). I’ve tried eating a tiny snack the second I get up. I’ve tried bolusing for breakfasts I don’t actually eat. What. The. Hell. Are we ever going to win this game? Because it’s been a long time now, and I’m sick of this. Doesn’t your medical degree, plus my brains and experience, trump my liver?

3. I don’t like low BGs. But they’re just easier to deal with – not that I LIKE dealing with them, because I don’t. Seriously. But it’s easier to grab and ingest 15 carbs, and wait 15 minutes, than it is to give a correction. And wait. And test. And wait some more. And figure all the numbers out again, just to be sure. And wait. And test. And rage bolus/stack. And wait. Some more. And test. And…yeah. That’s harder for me. I can feel my blood sugar rising, and I know if it’s more than 140. I can’t feel the lows, but that somehow makes it not as bad. The highs make me feel yucky, and they can take forever to remedy. Please know that I’m not trying to be low all the time. I just hate being high.

4. Performing. It’s something I love to do, either singing or acting or speaking in public, and it makes my BG RISE rise RISE. Sometimes as much as 100-200 points, no carbs involved! I know it’s not running marathons, and it may not seem athletic at all, but it’s serious to me. I could really use some help with this. I hate feeling the way I do at 300 while I’m supposed to be singing or giving a presentation. It’s hard to sing or speak with fuzzy mouth, sweaters on teeth, and dry throat. I don’t know how to deal with and fix it, and I don’t know how to manage it through experimentation since I can NOT go low while I’m performing.

5. I’m the same person who for most of my d-life, barely tested, had crazy high BGs, and have a really messed up relationship with food. About 3.5 years ago, I decided I wanted to get pregnant. I am honestly amazed at the way I wrapped my arms around my d-management and got my BGs under so-called “control.” The whole pregnant thing did not happen, and now here I am. I’m not sure how to keep my diabetes under “control” just for me. I don’t know why else to do this if it’s not for the higher purpose of taking control of my disease in order to keep a baby healthy. I also don’t know how to let go of the super-tight control of the trying-to-get-pregnant-lady. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do right now…but I don’t want to go back to the HbA1cs of yesteryear. I just don’t know how to do this.

What do I hope you don’t see? Not much. I don’t think you can help me unless you know what my life is like, for real. I spent way too many years feeling ashamed for the food that I binged and the blood tests I never did and the fake numbers I put in the logbooks and the exercise I didn’t sweat and the insulin I did or didn’t give…once I finally put all of that DOWN, I don’t care that you see it. In fact, I need you to see me – just as I am. I don’t do the unhealthy things as much these days, but sometimes I don’t make the healthiest choices in the world. I’m not going to hide. Don’t try to make me feel bad for what I am, and what I do. Join with me. I need your help, and I’m worth it.

p.s. if you could wait until the end of my appointment to take my blood pressure, that would be awesome. Not only do I have the whole white coat syndrome going on, but I’m always running late, cruising across the Golden Gate Bridge, frantically searching for a parking spot, and running up to your office, breathless. I bet my BP will be much closer to what it should be if you give me a few minutes to calm the hell down. Parallel parking is rude.

 

Here’s where to find all kinds of Share and Don’t Share posts!