dblog week: memories

May 15, 2013

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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

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!

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my diabetes shero

May 20, 2012

My “diabetes shero” is my daughter, Ms. Diva. She does not have diabetes, but she is the daughter of this mama with type 1. And she is amazing.

She has never known anything different than her mama with several buzzing and clicking little devices hanging on or around her body, even when she didn’t know what they did or why I needed them. I wasn’t sure how it was all going to go when it came time to tell Ms. Diva about diabetes. I read some different blogs about other moms’ worries, and decided I wasn’t going to think about it until the girl brought it up herself. Then I’d figure something out.

She was 5 years old when it happened. One day, Ms. Diva watched me prick my finger, squeeze blood onto a test strip, and said “Mama, why do you have to do that?” She’d seen me do it many times before, but that day, something provoked her to find out.

“There is an organ in our bodies called a pancreas. Mine stopped working when I was 7. Yours works great. It makes something called insulin, which helps your body use the food you eat to keep your body strong. The pump (point to pump) holds insulin. The meter (point to meter) tells the pump how much insulin to give me, through this tube. It works hard to try to keep the sugar in my blood at a healthy level.”

“Your pancreas doesn’t work?”

“Nope, babe, it doesn’t. Hasn’t for a long time.”

“What happens when you need a juice box?”

“Well, my pancreas still doesn’t work, but I’ve either taken too much insulin or eaten not enough food, or exercised too much. Then there isn’t enough sugar in my blood. Like when I say my blood sugar is low, you know? That’s when I need some juice.”

“Okay.” And she went about her day, to play Dinosaur Train and read some Fancy Nancy books.

The next day as we were sitting at the dining room table, she asked me a question. After I answered it, she looked at me intently and said, “Mama, your blood sugar is low.”

“Sweetie, why do you say that?”

“The way your voice sounds. When your voice sounds like that, you need a juice box.”

Ms. Diva was oh, so correct. My BG was 45.

“Thanks, honey.”

“No problem, mama. Will you tell me about the no-hitter on your Dex again? Do you have one right now? Can I see it?”

That girl. She had all of my heart from the moment we saw the little peanut in my partner’s very first ultrasound, and of course from the moment she was born, and a zillion times after that. But that day she let me know she’d noticed my diabetes without thinking that it made me different or less of a mother; noticed and remembered what I needed to take care of the diabetes problem at an annoyingly imperative time; and let me know that it was no big deal. She relieved some really giant fears I’d been carrying around inside without even knowing it.

I so love that my dumb pancreas and my diabetes are NBD for Ms. Diva.

I love her so much.

She’s my diabetes shero.

So many other cool diabetes sheroes and heroes right here, go read some more!

D-Blog Week 2012, Day 7: Let’s end our week on a high note and blog about our “Diabetes Hero”.  It can be anyone you’d like to recognize or admire, someone you know personally or not, someone with diabetes or maybe a Type 3.  It might be a fabulous endo or CDE.  It could be a d-celebrity or role-model.  It could be another DOC member.  It’s up to you – who is your Diabetes Hero??


a sweet ride

May 10, 2012

So we bought a new car a couple weeks ago. Our weekly commute mileage, the price of gas, work schedules of me and A, and Ms. Diva’s ever-intensfying school, activity, and summer camp schedule made it imperative that we do something, instead of continuing to talk about doing something. We ended up choosing the new PriusC, and we totally love it.

Of course, having type 1 diabetes and being a primary driver for our family means I’m looking for certain criteria in any potential new car. Of utmost importance: storage for the sugar products I like to have close at hand in case of lows. The PriusC provides plenty of room for this.

Four 4.2 oz. Juicy Juice boxes fit in the front console!

Four juice boxes in the glove box, too.

Both front doors also have spots especially for bottles of glucose tabs! (okay, for water bottles, but whatever. They’re perfect.)

A little bit of non-sugar sweetness: Ms. Diva & the new car

I am thinking that I may need to put some of the juice boxes into a small cooler pak instead of the console to keep them from boiling during the summer months, but that’s no big.

It’s really nice to have a car that we can trust when I’m driving so much. And it’s equally good to know there’s plenty of room for my sugar stash. 🙂

***Toyota, Nestle, and Target have not paid me or provided any product(s) (!) for me to write this. I’m just thrilled with our recent car purchase, and these are the products I use to bring my blood sugar back into range.


croup trumps pinboard #hawmc day 16

April 16, 2012

I was going to use one of the 2 “free passes” for Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge today. I wasn’t really feeling the Pinterest pinboard, so I left it to do today instead of getting it finished prior to the prompt day. Then some unexpected events caused me and my partner, A, to be up for several hours in the middle of the night. We spent from 12-2:30am at the ER with our daughter, Ms. Diva, and then spent today at an appt. with Ms. Diva’s pediatrician, at the pharmacy (twice) for her new meds, and at home with her resting. I’m exhausted, and so is A. Per usual for parents, we seem much more worn and strung out after last night’s escapades than Ms. Diva herself. She’s sick, but is already much much better and looks much better as well.

She had a little stuffy nose for about a week, and seemed a little tired a few days, but nothing remarkably horrible. Last night, she seemed a little more congested in the nose and sinus parts of her head, and we gave her a dose of children’s cold medicine before she went to bed. She seemed to go to sleep easy enough. A. and I went to bed around 11pm. At midnight, Ms. Diva woke us up with muted shrieking, silent sobbing, and wild gesturing at her throat. She squeaked out that she couldn’t breathe. Her entire little 6-year-old body was shaking. We got ourselves to the ER immediately.

After some albuterol treatment, prednisone, and benedryl, the iconic croup seal-bark cough emerged. Oh, there it was. Croup! Seriously?! I felt like a complete and total idiot. She’d had croup before, when she was really little, and A and I both had it as kids too, so we know what croup sounds like. But she hadn’t coughed ONCE until about 1/2 way through the first of the two albuterol treatments! The mist loosened the gunk up so that she could cough, and there was no mistaking it. Grrrrr.

In the rush to get out of the house, I left Dex (my continuous glucose monitor) under my pillow, so I had no way of tracking where my BG was throughout this frightening roller-coaster of an episode. Once we got into the ER, the staff assessed and started treating her, and A and I sat down next to her, I thought about testing my BG. 47 mg/dl. Abso-freaking-lutely AMAZING. I started pounding the gross glucose tabs I keep in my purse for when no other sugar sources are available. Yick.

I have no idea why the BG decided to do that last night. At 11pm I went to bed at 114mg/dl, and had reduced my overnight basal rate the night before. By 12:30am, it was 47. And serious stress, from other types of situations, generally sends my BG skyrocketing through the roof–like 100+ points. WTF???

It sucks so much to have to even bother with testing my blood and addressing whatever issues it’s having, when our daughter can’t breathe and is sick and needs help. I hate it. I hate that it happened, and I hate that I have to even think about it. But I sucked it up, ate the stupid glucose tabs, comforted and loved my girl, and tried to be good support for A, too. It turned out okay.

Ms. Diva’s sleeping and breathing well tonight, and I hope her mamas will be able to sleep too (!!!). See you tomorrow for #hawmc day 17.

 


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