just call me jenga-girl

May 15, 2012

…in pure confessional mode tonight, especially since I’ve been quietly raging against planking blood sugars in the 160-199 range since about 4pm this afternoon. (It’s almost 11pm.)

I’m a stacker.

When I don’t pay attention. When it’s been a couple of hours and there is no down arrow on Dex the continuous glucose monitor. When a perfectly good, accurately-calculated correction bolus has been given ample time to work and yet that damn BG just. won’t. come. DOWN.

I stack correction boluses.

If I’m feeling extra special feisty, I’ll throw a bolus for some carbs in the middle of a correction bolus stack, because I’m just that pissed at the infernal high BG and I’m hungry.

Numerous times my CDE and endos have looked at my logsheets and mentioned, “You tend to stack a little.”

Sometimes the wonderful D-team will follow the previous observation with: “Do you think you could wait longer before you correct again? Maybe 4 hours?”

They see my face–4 hours? Seriously? “Well, how about 3?”

(I do mean it, they’re wonderful. They really read over my entire logsheets and ask good questions, and help me think through some solutions to my current d-dilemmas.)

Yes, I’m a stacker.

I don’t MEAN to do it, not in a “I’m going to intentionally harm myself because I don’t know well enough what I’m doing and/or I think it will be fun.”

But. Just about the most frustrated I ever get is when I’ve done all that I can do to get a high BG to lower, and it won’t budge. Over several hours. Sometimes I end up crying because it feels hopeless. And I just feel sick–headache, sick to my stomach, fuzzy teeth, dry mouth, a heavy feeling as if concrete is slooooooowly inching through my veins. Blech.

I stack those boluses.

I’m impatient, not only about high BGs coming down but about many many other things in life. I get impatient that correction boluses don’t work immediately, even though I use rapid-acting insulin.

Really? Rapid? It’s not rapid waiting hours and hours for a BG to come down. Not eating anything because I’m afraid of what will happen then. Guzzling water and sparkling water and diet soda and ice cubes while I just want to eat some real food.

This being my confession, I can also say that I have improved at not stacking so much over the last year or so. Yet the possibility of stacking is always there in the background. I have to be really mindful, all the time, and stop myself from giving another bolus when I still have insulin on board (IOB). It’s a process, for sure. But I have gotten better at blocking the stacking urge.

Like right now, for instance. BG is 224, it went UP in the last few hours! Grrrr. Now I’m thinking that I messed up the carb counting at dinner, which added to the stuck BG and risk of my stacking tonight.

And so I’ll start again tomorrow, trying and working hard not to stack. It’s a neverending process.

Check out the other posts about One Thing to Improve here.

D-Blog Week 2012, Day 3: Yesterday we gave ourselves and our loved ones a big pat on the back for one thing we are great at.  Today let’s look at the flip-side.  We probably all have one thing we could try to do better.  Why not make today the day we start working on it.  No judgments, no scolding, just sharing one small thing we can improve so the DOC can cheer us on!


d-eyeballs

May 25, 2011

There’s really nothing like the fear leading up to an impending opthamologist appointment. About a week before the date, I start having random moments of freakishness where I may start thinking that my eyeballs have stopped working. I wig out when my BG hits anything more than 140, and I convince myself that some Really. Bad. News. is inevitable. I try to remember to breathe, not always successfully.

So last week when I went to my first appointment with new Dr. D-Eyeballs, I was a bit of a mess. Perfectly normal. I asked for a referral from my relatively new Dr. WonderfulEndo, whom I love, so I had hope that Dr. D-Eyeballs would also be wonderful. I was also prepared for massive disappointment and eyeball crisis. It’s just easier to be ready.

In the last 31 years I’ve had opthamologist Dr. Crappy-s who have asked me if I’ve “been good” to my eyes. Ones that berated me for whatever my last HbA1c was. Ones who tried to scare me with horror stories of retinopathy, glaucoma, macular degeneration, and other complications in people with type 1 diabetes. And then there were the ones who didn’t even ask about my type 1. Admittedly, I have a narrow range of acceptable and appropriate statements that opthamologists could say to me without sending me over the edge. But I’ve heard the entire gamut of possibilities, most of them terrible.

Not my new Dr. D-Eyeballs! She’s totally ah-may-zing. She’s the clinical research director for the practice, brilliant, and informed/respectful/totally competent re: type 1 eyes. I’m so thankful when I get the opportunity to see a good medical provider, and she is one.

Cut to the great news from last week’s appointment: No retinopathy, no other d-eye problems. After more than 3 decades with D.

It’s hard for me to believe. I wanted to ask the doctor if she was absolutely sure. Really? Not one little blip? Even under the extra magnification? Are you SURE?! I kept waiting for the “BUT…”

Not this time.


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