CGM

I Break For Coffee

Hangry

It’s hard to describe, and even differentiate sometimes, the difference between having a low blood sugar and just running on pure empty from not eating all day.

All week, since Daylight Savings Time kicked in, I have been trying to outrun the clock and get to work on time. I love DST, don’t get me wrong, but it’s really hard to get up in the morning when it’s still dark outside.

Okay, who am I kidding? It’s hard for me to get up in the morning whether it’s dark outside or not.

Yesterday morning was no different. Running late, I brushed my teeth, grabbed my work gear, made certain that I wasn’t walking out of the house with flip flops and pajama pants on, and hit the road.

I realized when I grabbed my messenger bag out of my car that it was lighter than usual. Turns out I had left my lunch (leftover white bean chicken chili from dinner the night before) at home. It happens, right?

This wouldn’t normally be a problem, but I have a habit (a good habit, if you’re viewing things from my employer’s perspective) of getting to work and throwing myself into things and not stopping. I’m notorious for working through lunch, skipping breaks, and looking at the clock to surprisingly discover that it’s mid-afternoon and I haven’t seen the outside of my office all day. The only thing that I will consistently break for is coffee.

I Break For Coffee

After my second cup of coffee…okay, third cup…maybe fourth cup…I realized that I was pretty much plowing through my day of meetings, emails, phone calls, and one-armed library dragon training. Once I was done, and those dragons were tamed well enough to stamp due dates in library books like they were born with that one lonely arm to do just that instead of burn villages and terrorize innocent monks (Trogdor!!!), I called it a day and headed home.

Now, I knew I had been moderately low all day. I’m back to wearing my Continuous Glucose Monitor (CGM) again, after a slight hiatus from all the beeping and bonking and wee-ooo-wee-ooo-wee-ooo alarms waking me up in the middle of the night, and it had warned me off and on all day that I was hovering around 75 mg/dl. Still, I didn’t stop to treat it or deal with it. I just kept working.

When I got home, A-Flizzle and our pal EriCAH were there, so I started preparing dinner. Yay, food!

I kept noticing that I was agitated with everything, but I didn’t have the sense to question why. Cutting the chicken and vegetables, I was seething. Trying to figure out how to make the chicken stock thicker, I was fuming. When I realized that we only had a single serving of rice, I was mulling over what it would be like to throw the refrigerator off a cliff. It was so ridiculous that I was getting on my own nerves. I must have been driving A-Flizzle and EriCAH crazy.

That was when I realized I had reached my limit. I was low. I was hungry. I was angry. I was HANGRY! And I was making dinner and the food was too raw to eat immediately. Oh, the agony! The horribleness! The tragedy!

Eventually dinner finished, and we all got to experience my chicken thai curry science project of a meal, but it was a great example of how normal for some people isn’t normal for those of us with diabetes. There are times that we absolutely MUST stop and eat. Going all day long without eating is dangerous, and in hindsight, I’m probably lucky that I didn’t have a sneaky low that left me sitting in my office in a pile of sweaty, shaky, confused nonsense with a co-worker telling me, “Drink your juice Shelby!”

I’ll probably do it again though. Because I’m stubborn like that.

Cake or Death?

If you have diabetes, regardless of type, it is inevitable that at some point you have encountered some form of THE question…

“Can you eat that?”

Sometimes it takes on the shape of “Should you be eating that?” or “Is that good for your diabetes?” or “I’m eating for two, even though I’m a dude, so why are you eating that when I was counting on eating your share?!”

When I’m asked this question, sometimes I will respond with some well-deserved diabetes education. “Yes, I can eat this. I just have to know how many carbs (carbohydrates) are in it, and what my blood sugar is, so that I can give myself the correct amount of insulin to keep my blood sugar from spiking too high due to not enough insulin, or going too low because I dosed too much.”

That is usually enough to get either understanding or slightly confused looks of acceptance. Math and science, for the win! And truthfully, I’m typically happy to educate. I like it when people learn about real life with diabetes.

If I’m in a mood though, or if I’m having a low BG (low blood sugar) and don’t have the patience for a diabetes learnin’ session, I might just respond with a snotty little question of my own, such as, “Should YOU be eating that?” That’s always a show stopper, as the guilty party takes that last bite of chocolate cake and shamefully makes their way back to the other room while I feel only slightly guilty with my shaky, moody, slightly confused, sweat-drenched self. Cake or death? Whatever, I’ll apologize later…GIVE ME CAKE!

Since I got my CGM (continuous glucose monitor), even more questions have been introduced to my world with diabetes. A-Flizzle is getting good at recognizing the different tones of the CGM alarms, but most people around me and my beeps and bonks aren’t able to decipher if I’m low, high, have a low reservoir, a low battery, or if I just forgot to hit “OK” after my last BG (blood glucose) check. Still, I’m glad when it beeps and they stop to ask, “What does that alarm mean?” It doesn’t matter to me if they were able to define the alarm or not. What matters was that they heard it, and recognized that it was diabetes related, so that if I need something, I have their attention. Diabetes win!

Another diabetes win happened this past weekend when A-Flizzle was supervising, I mean, helping me organize my diabetes supplies. While sifting through test strips, glucose gels, infusion sets, and alcohol swabs, we came across this little gem when I got my paws on a fresh box of CGM sensors.

Cake and CGM Sensors

Do you see it? Look a little closer.

Cake (forget the CGM sensors)

Cake! On a diabetes supply container! For a device that helps monitor glucose levels!

Cake or death, you ask? CAKE! Definitely, cake.

Snow - 12-28-2011

2012 Goals & Resolutions

Last year I put together a post of some of the things that I wanted to accomplish in 2011. My first goal was to get my A1C under 6.2. At my last three endo visits, my A1C was 5.6, 5.7, and 5.6. Goal achieved, sort of, but with that low A1C came a couple of dangerous lows. Those A1C’s don’t make me a “good diabetic” anymore than those dangerous lows make me a “bad diabetic.” It’s just proof that an ideal number goal that signifies that diabetes is in good control is also very close to the edge of a low blood sugar disaster.

I made a resolution last year to wear my CGM more regularly. I did mostly, yet those two aforementioned lows both outran my CGM’s ability to predict the low blood sugar in time for me to fix the problem myself. During the first low, my CGM started beeping while A-Flizzle was feeding me glucose tabs. (See also: This CGM technology stuff has got to improve if we ever hope to see a closed-loop artificial pancreas in reality.) Unfortunately, due to expired sensors, supply refill woes, and now a CGM transmitter that is no longer transmitting, I’ve been without my CGM for 2-3 months, and I can definitely tell because my BG’s are all over the place. Like that sweaty 35 this morning, followed by a headache inducing 237 at dinner tonight. I’m concerned about my next A1C, but I know that it is just data, and I know that I’m struggling, and I’m just going to put my faith in my endo, my CDE, and myself to work together and turn this beat around. Diabetes is hard enough. Why beat myself up about it?

My #2 and #3 goals were really all about exercise, and if I look at them explicitly, I failed them both. I did not run a 5K, nor did I find a group to start cycling with on a regular basis. I did, however, discover the joys of spin class, so I’m chalking those up as a sort of win.

One goal I had that I’m extremely disappointed about not achieving is to get down to a stable 165 lbs. The first half of this year I did phenomenal at losing some weight, eating low carb, getting some exercise in, and really feeling like I was on my way to a more fit me. Then I had that low BG seizure at the beginning of July, where I chewed up my tongue and could only eat really soft, bland, room temperature foods for about 2-3 weeks, and that sunk my battleship. I was traveling at the time, so I resorted to eating total garbage like macaroni and cheese, soft cookies, potatoes, and starchy things that I had done so well at resisting in the first half of 2011. Now, here at the beginning of 2012, I’m right back to where I started, maybe even a little heavier. I have some new weight-related goals in mind though, so rather than throwing myself a pity party, I’m going to try a healthy helping of encouragement instead.

Another resolution I had was to go to the ophthalmologist. I’ve written about this experience, but suffice it to say that I did indeed go, and I got my card the other day reminding me to make a new appointment, and it isn’t something I’m as afraid of as much as I once was. I’m calling that an accomplishment.

Other goals and resolutions involved having adventures, paying off some bills, getting diabetes stuff that I needed (like a new medical ID bracelet), and remembering that even though diabetes is ever present, it isn’t the only thing that is important in life. All of those things I can mostly say I succeeded at, and am not opposed to carrying those ideals forward in the new year.

So without further ado, I present my 2012 goals and resolutions.

Goals
1. A1C <= 6.2. Less would be good.
2. Pay off at least two debts.
3. Have an adventure…regularly. Take pictures. (I really can’t emphasize this one enough. It’s a MUST!)
4. NEW for 2012: Drop some heft. Goal weight, 175 lbs. I will re-evaluate once this goal is achieved.
5. NEW for 2012: Complete an urban disturbance/warrior 5K, where you climb walls, jump fire, wade through mud, etc. I don’t know the exact name of these types of races. I just know I want to do one.
6. NEW for 2012: I will have a pool nearby this year, so I’m going to start swimming again. I miss it bunches. Plus, I need to get my bikini body ready for…*cough*…nevermind. Nothing to see here. Move along people.
7. NEW for 2012: Be successful with at least one big thing for diabetes advocacy. Measure of success to be determined based on specifics of the diabetes advocacy activity. That should leave me plenty of room to cause trouble.

Resolutions
1. Wear CGM consistently.
2. NEW for 2012: Find and go to the dentist, in addition to endo and ophthalmologist.
3. NEW for 2012: Exercise at least 3 days a week, even if work, blogging, and rest have to be sacrificed in order to do so. This will help my strength, energy level, blood sugar stability, and entertainment value while strutting around without clothes on.
4. NEW for 2012: Blog consistently, but only if it meets self-imposed quality standards. Or includes a good laugh. Or both.
5. NEW for 2012: Stop letting other people dictate my emotions. Their Jedi mind tricks are no good here.

Yeah…that’s a good start.

Snow - 12-28-2011

Gummy Bears

Twas A Gummy Bear Night

Twas a night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a CGM was beeping, all sensors were out.
The transmitter was stashed amongst the pump supplies with care
In hopes that my insurance company soon would say, “Clear!”

The gummy bears were nestled all snug in their bag,
Patiently awaiting for diabetes to attack.
The cat under covers, the dog taking a nap,
It was only a matter of time before diabetes would snap.

When just down the hall there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed in a soaking wet lather.
Panicked and stricken, I searched for my glasses,
Hoping to high heavens my feet weren’t molasses.

The moon in the window lighting my way
Leading me to the kitchen where the gummies await.
Like a chorus of Hungry Hippos my teeth were a chatter,
Am I low? Or just cold? Truthfully, it doesn’t matter.

Flicking on the lightswitch in a soaking wet fury,
“Get in my belly you gummies!” I said, a bit slurry.
More delicious than glucose tabs and easier to swallow,
The red ones are best, and what makes the clear ones so hollow?

The clock ticks, the minutes pass, waiting for a fixin’
It doesn’t seem to be working, my brain says as I listen.
I think, “Let’s chase the gummies with a bottle of soda!”
“Diet, that’s not,” a voice says, kind of like Yoda.

As the bottle is emptied I start to stop shaking,
This all will have consequences in the morning upon waking.
Tired and worn out, I drag my carcass to bed,
Where visions of semi-coherent boluses dance in my head.

And then, in a moment, the sun starts to shine.
Morning already?! It was only just five!
As I sit up in bed, and try to shake off the fog,
I realize I feel like a rotting old log.

Time to get dressed, from my head to my foot,
“I think I wore these clothes yesterday,” I think as I look.
A bundle of sweaty clothes, a shower is needed.
What happened last night, and why am I still seated?

I make it down the hallway, shuffling feet in my slippers,
When all of a sudden I spot movement that’s chipper!
When, what to my sleepy-filled eyes should appear,
Those gummies are partying, and one of them has a beer!

I shake, and I tremble, and rub my eyes in disbelief.
A gummy bear palooza, in MY kitchen sink?!
I grab my pump quickly, and notice the last,
A bolus, SWAG-worthy, taken blindly and fast.

I reach for my meter, and check without fear,
Hoping that some sense in those numbers will appear.
Double-digits, that figures, at least now I know
Those gummy bear phantoms were all because I was low.

Gummy Bears

Photo by Pato Garza (CC license)

Cough Drops

One Flu Over The Cuckoo’s Nest

Today is the fourth (or is it the fifth?) day of the flu. Or maybe it’s a cold. With fever. And sniffing and snorting. And a lot of coughing and inability to catch my breath. And not enough energy to last through the entire day. And having to call it at night at 9:30 on a Saturday night while my girlfriend and friends have enough energy to carry on through the evening. (Frustration…I haz it.)

Yeah, definitely the flu.

Being sick on top of living with diabetes is like being stuck inside a dark room with all of your senses scrambled up and not able to rely on any of them for worthwhile information. Nothing is as it seems.

For example, last night before bed I felt high. Dry mouth, thirsty, lethargic, just an overall sense of blah. BG check = 60. Definitely NOT high.

This morning, felt high again. Same symptoms. BG check = 49. Nope, not high then either.

(Side note: I sure will be glad when my Medtronic order goes through and I get my new CGM sensors.)

A-Flizzle and I went to see a musical show last night called Into The Woods. I thought after three days of riding the couch that I would be fine to go to a show. And it was a great show too, and the community musical theater near us did a phenomenal job. The first half of the musical, I was fine, enjoying the show, doing my thing. Then the cold meds wore off. During the second half, I had to escape out into the lobby at one point to have a coughing fit. Sugar free cough drops managed to hold the coughing somewhat in check until the audience applauded at the end of a song, when I was able to cough freely for a few seconds and mask my upper respiratory conundrum by the claps and hoots of the crowd. Thank goodness they were a lively audience!

By the way, sugar free cough drops have the same effect of all that sugar free candy we discovered when we were first diagnosed with diabetes and ate too much of, except they help you not to cough as much. But if you do cough, watch out! Just FYI, in case you ever need that tidbit of information.

Cough Drops

I hate having a million things to do and not having enough energy to actually do them. I’m trying to rest, and ignore the fact that I have three days (and probably 300) work emails to do something with on Monday, since I was out half of the week last week. I’m trying to stop looking around my house at all the things that I need to do, regretting that the three days I was out of work couldn’t have been spent on something more productive than laying in bed and trying to stop shivering.

I wonder if this whole being sick thing was because I actually got bombarded by germs, or if it was because I have been pushing myself too hard, trying to do too much at one time. How much of it just happened? And how much of it was my own dang fault? And why were all those fairytale people obsessed with wandering around in the woods at night anyway?

Maybe I shouldn’t blog while taking cold medicine.

Time

Progress Takes Time

National Health Blog Post Month, Day 28: Say WHAT?! What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve heard about health or your condition? Was there any context? What did you think at the time you heard it – and what do you think of it now?NHBPM_2011_Day28

People say the darndest things, especially when it comes to diabetes. Most all of us have heard about how cinnamon can cure diabetes, how Halle Berry managed to wean herself off of insulin, and even how Chuck Norris’s tears contain the cure for diabetes. (Too bad he doesn’t cry. Ever.)

I can handle the ridiculous and imaginative ideas for curing diabetes that people in the publishing business come up with in order to sell copy and get clicks on their websites. I know, as well as they know, that they are often full of crap. Just look at the Reader’s Digest issue from a few months ago. It’s capitalism, and it’s meant to make money. We, as people with diabetes, regardless of type, have to make sure that we are smarter than the fly-by-night snake oil salesmen.

I get extremely upset with doctors who tell parents and children who are newly diagnosed that there will be a cure within five years. Or ten years. Or that it is just around the corner. I was told that when I was diagnosed at age two. That was 30 years ago. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t all have hope, but our efforts would be much better suited if we focused on living well with our diabetes (regardless of type), rather than surviving just long enough until there is a cure. What’s the point in a cure if we don’t make it that long?

If there was a cure for diabetes, it would not require me to buy someone’s book off of a TV infomercial or sign up for an annual subscription to a website. A cure would be grounded in science, and would include known experts in the field of diabetes who live with and work with this disease every single day that would be more than willing to vouch for whatever form and type of diabetes the cure is for.

I also believe that we would see it coming. True researchers dedicate their lives to finding a cure for diabetes. They don’t accidentally mix up samples and say, “Oh, wow, a cure for diabetes. How’d that happen?” So many people are stakeholders for diabetes improvements, and they have their fingers on the pulse of the research that is being done towards better treatments and a cure.

The things that I’m excited about right now are insulin pumps with low blood glucose suspend functionality. Basically, if the continuous glucose monitor (CGM) senses a blood glucose that is below a certain level, then it will automatically suspend the insulin pump for a period of time. I have low blood sugar unawareness, so this would be helpful to me to ward off severe lows, like the 35 that I had while I was at Epcot last week, and maybe even prevent me from having a low BG related seizure.

I’m also excited about CGM sensors that aren’t as invasive as what we have now. My biggest hurdles in wearing my CGM are the components themselves. I love the results, and the data that I get from it, but having to harpoon myself with a fat needle to insert my sensor and then attach a big honkin’ transmitter to it and tape it down so that it doesn’t fall off is really a burden sometimes. I remember the first home BG meters. They were huge, and heavy, and slow. Today they are tiny, and can report BG’s in five seconds, so I know we will get there with CGM technology as well.

As long as research and development is being done, and we are advocating for our needs, progress is inevitable. It just takes time.

Time

This post was written as part of National Health Blog Post Month (NHBPM) – 30 health posts in 30 days: http://bit.ly/vU0g9J

National Health Blog Post Month

Big Success

Geek, Party Of One

National Health Blog Post Month, Day 27: Quote Unquote. Grab a quote from this site (type in any word – see what comes up!) and use that quote to set your writing.NHBPM_2011_Day27

“The twenty-first century will be different. The human species, along with the computational technology it created, will be able to solve age-old problems of need, if not desire, and will be in a position to change the nature of mortality in a postbiological future.” – Ray Kurzweil, The Age of Spiritual Machines

One of my favorite bands, Our Lady Peace, released an album in 2000 titled Spiritual Machines that was inspired by concepts from the book “The Age of Spiritual Machines” by Ray Kurzweil. After hearing the album, I was as intrigued as the guys in the band, and had to dig a little deeper.

There are many quotable passages in the book, and in different scenarios it appeals more than others. I make no bones about the fact that I am a tech geek. I love and live technology. I can spend way too much time keeping up with tech news, advancements, and creative ways that people use technology to solve real world problems. This book was right up my geeky alley.

If you have diabetes, especially Type 1 diabetes, you probably walk around with a myriad of technology at any given time. This does not speak to everyone (or every type of person with diabetes, YDMV), but it isn’t unheard of to hear of someone walking around several devices attached to them or nearby that are helping them to make decisions that keep them alive.

I’m an example. I have a continuous glucose monitor (CGM) that gathers information from a flexible sensor residing just under my skin and a wireless transmitter. My CGM is integrated with my insulin pump, and helps me to maintain better control with my blood glucose (BG) levels by tracking trends so that I can see when my BG is rising or falling.

My insulin pump is connected to me via a similar type of cannula, though this one is linked to my pump via a nearly three foot tube. My insulin pump, powered by battery and programmed to my individual insulin needs, doses very small amounts of insulin around the clock through that tube, with bigger doses occurring when I eat a meal or have a high BG that needs correcting. I also carry around a standard issue fingerprick BG kit that tells me what my BG is at any given time with more accuracy than my CGM alone.

I have other, more multipurpose pieces of technology that I use to help me manage my life with diabetes as well. I have my cell phone (smartphone) and iPad that I use to look up carbohydrate info, keep in touch with the Diabetes Online Community (DOC), and search for other info that I might need on the fly to better manage my diabetes. One of my favorite apps to use when carb counting is the Go Meals app, especially when I go out to eat.

I feel like, in many ways, Kurzweil’s vision of a 21st century where computational technology is used to change the nature of mortality has already come true, though we still have miles to go before we sleep. When I was diagnosed with diabetes over 30 years ago, the information and data that we have today was simply not available. Now, we can figure out how many carbs are in a meal at a restaurant by the time a server can return to the table with our drink order. The swiftness of information is only going to get better, and the quality will continue to improve as well.

I’m excited to see what is next with technology used to live with and manage this disease, and how our world with diabetes will continue to evolve. I believe that one day there will be a cure, but until then, I am thankful that technology keeps improving to keep us alive and well until we get there.

Big Success

This post was written as part of National Health Blog Post Month (NHBPM) – 30 health posts in 30 days: http://bit.ly/vU0g9J

National Health Blog Post Month

The Beach

The Beach

National Health Blog Post Month, Day 22: Be present. Describe something peaceful with as much sensory imagery as you can. What are the sights, sounds, scents, and feelings?NHBPM_2011_Day22

Peace, in my world, is that elusive thing that peeks its head out from around a corner every once in awhile, letting you have only a short glimpse, before quickly scampering off into the chaotic wilds of the land of To Do. I am one of those people who packs their day full of stuff to do (often unintentionally) from the moment my feet hit the ground in the morning to when I set my alarm and turn my light off at night. My days are packed with diabetes concerns, work concerns, BG tests, tasks and things I need to get accomplished, phone calls, emails, spreadsheets, web pages, beeping CGM’s, carb counting, questions and answers, and even unknowns.

Lately, I really haven’t found a peaceful, blissful place where I’m not bombarded with a list of things that I can’t get my mind off of that I should be doing instead of enjoying the serenity. But I know a few places where I am the most at ease, and I hope I can get there to spend some time before long.

The beach at dusk and night is one of my favorite places to get away from it all. Even if for only a few minutes. I like the beach during the day, don’t get me wrong. I love it. But at night, it’s different.

At the beach at night, the waves seem to crash just a little more gently. The breeze seems to blow just a little more calmly. The darkness helps to retire the beachgoers from the day, replacing them with footprints, disappearing sandcastles, and subtle reminders that yes, this beach belongs to all, but the small bit of solitude that remains is mine.

I don’t have to share the beach at night. A cell phone or an iPad has no place here. There is no light to read a book, a newspaper, or a magazine. There is only the subtle reflection of the setting sun on the water, painting the sky a series of pinks, purples, oranges, and gold. Or maybe it’s the vision of the moon slowly climbing its way out of the water at the edge of the horizon, giving off a soft pale glow, and letting gravity take the water as it rises higher and higher in the sky.

The sounds of the beach are hypnotizing. The waves crashing against the shore in a never ending loop have the nature of the stars, in that they are nearly impossible to count and keep track of. They keep repeating, with no story of where they have come from, or where they are going next. The water slapping against a pier, or a seawall, adds a backbeat rhythm for the waves to keep time to.

The smell in the air is crisp, clean, yet salty. The lingering sweet smell of suntan lotion hovers around the public areas. Along the pier you can smell the freshness in the daily catches of the fisherman, who are still at their task of gathering just enough fish for dinner, and leaving behind just enough for tomorrow.

If you close your eyes, and take a deep breath in, you can feel the energy of the day slowing down, wrapping up the fond memories and new beginnings of every person’s day at the beach before you. As you breathe out, the world is replaced by calmness unlike any other, and a feeling of life all around, but moving at a slower pace, with beautiful deliberateness.

You can stay for a moment, or you can stay for hours. The beach at night has no time clock. It is just there, winding down from a long day in the sun, and glad that you stopped long enough to give it a chance to share.

That is my peaceful.

The Beach

This post was written as part of National Health Blog Post Month (NHBPM) – 30 health posts in 30 days: http://bit.ly/vU0g9J

National Health Blog Post Month

Oh The Places You'll Go Low

Best Of: Oh, The Places You’ll Go Low!

National Health Blog Post Month, Day 19: “Best of” post. Grab a post from your archives and repost it! Add a few sentences at the beginning to frame it. Why you chose it. Why you liked it. And why it should be shared again.NHBPM_2011_Day19

In May of this year, during Dblog Week, participants were encouraged to write a letter to someone about their diabetes. I chose to address my concerns from myself as an adult to myself as a child with diabetes. I was diagnosed at age two, so I’ve never really known a life without diabetes. I don’t have a before and after perspective, or memories of my diagnosis, or stories of transition. Based on my memories alone, I have always been a person with diabetes.

Still, diabetes has a lot of unknowns. In all of my years with diabetes, I have learned so much that was never shared by a doctor or a nurse, because so much of what we know about diabetes comes from living with it day in and day out. I wanted to share a story that I could understand, as a child, and appreciate throughout my life and years as an adult with diabetes. So I picked one of my favorites, and gave it a twist…

Oh The Places You'll Go Low(Click to read…)

This post was written as part of National Health Blog Post Month (NHBPM) – 30 health posts in 30 days: http://bit.ly/vU0g9J

National Health Blog Post Month

Monster Video Screenshot

Monster

National Health Blog Post Month, Day 15: This one’s for you, baby. Dedicate a song to your condition. Why did you pick that song? Find a YouTube or link to a version to embed in your post.NHBPM_2011_Day15

I’ve been thinking about this blog post, and letting it marinate in my imagination for the past day or two. I’ve written and related music to my place in the world in the past, including here, here, and here.

Lately I’ve been in this spot where I haven’t been wearing my continuous glucose monitor (CGM) consistently (again). Recently my sensors expired, and after trying to get the remainder to work to no avail, I don’t even have the option to wear my CGM now until I order pump supplies again.

It has been about a month since I have worn my CGM. As a result, my blood sugars have been all over the place. This morning I woke up at 292. Then tonight, I bottomed out at 35.

Diabetes is like that. Sometimes it feels like there is this beast inside that is chewing through wires and smashing buttons and causing all havoc in my body’s proverbial blood sugar control room. That was when I thought of the perfect song to dedicate to my diabetes…“Monster” by Skillet.

Listen to the lyrics. The song is all about a monster that cannot be controlled. We try with diabetes, but so often it feels like we are the lion tamer in a cage with three lions who at any minute could decide that they’ve had enough of behaving.

A lot of the time I hide the diabetes monster, and bed it down so that it doesn’t make noise or cause a commotion. Another line in the song, “My secret side I keep, hid under lock and key, I keep it caged but I can’t control it.” Keeping all of our diabetes fueled emotions bottled up inside is sometimes the only way that we have the strength to deal with diabetes, as if ignoring it will make it go away.

Throughout the song there is a line that says, “I must confess that I feel like a monster.” That is how I feel when my blood sugar is low or high and I’m struggling with diabetes. I need to let it out and say, “No, this is not okay!” Maybe I need help, or maybe I just need someone to appreciate the gravity of what I’m feeling inside.

This battle wages inside all of us with diabetes, regardless of type, and eventually we manage to become the monster ourselves and fight back.

In a few weeks I will have new CGM sensors, and will know exactly what my blood sugars are doing between finger pricks. Well, at least within 20%. It doesn’t sound that dramatically radical, ordering pump supplies and getting new CGM sensors, but that is exactly what it is. It is action taken to gain control and tame the beast.

I say to you, diabetes…who’s the monster now? RAWWWRR!

 

This post was written as part of National Health Blog Post Month (NHBPM) – 30 health posts in 30 days: http://bit.ly/vU0g9J

National Health Blog Post Month