For my birthday, A-Flizzle surprised me with a trip to Jacksonville for a weekend of good food, good times, and great friends. It was such a surprise! I never saw it coming. I was all, “Hey, I’m going to work” and she was like, “No, we’re going on a weekend getaway” and I was like, “Oh wow, I’m so surprised! This is so cool!”
Okay, who are we kidding? I hate surprises, and she knows it. That’s why she’s a keeper. To prevent me from freaking out, A-Flizzle made this awesome timeline of what was going on and where we needed to be. Actually, calling it a timeline doesn’t really do it justice…it was a FUNline. Look at this picture while I do the pencil sharpener…
Friday started with a beermaster’s tour of the Budweiser brewery in Jacksonville. Upon arrival, I struck up a conversation with the tour guide who noticed my insulin pump. She couldn’t quite grasp how in the world I could possibly have Type 1 diabetes and drink a beer, at the same time. It’s not an exact science, but I explained to her the basic idea of factoring in blood sugar levels and counting carbs and dosing enough insulin to cover the difference, just like anything else we people with diabetes (PWD’s) eat or drink. Yes, I know there’s some long division and a square root of Pi and other fuzzy math that goes into calculating carbs and insulin when drinking alcohol for some PWD’s, but your diabetes may vary (YDMV). Suffice it to say, it was nice to meet someone in the beer brewing industry who was legitimately interested in how everyone might be able to enjoy what they put so much effort into making.
The tour was fascinating, and getting to sample beer directly from the ice cold tanks was delightful. There is no way to get a fresher beer than that. One lady on the tour, who didn’t even like beer, even became a convert. I’ve got a newfound respect for the Budweiser brand of beers now, and the care that goes into making each and every one. It’s a process of Willy Wonka proportions, and I’d highly recommend the tour if you every have the opportunity. Also, the gift shop is a great place after you’ve had a couple. Just saying. (I left with a Landshark beach umbrella and a hoodie with a built-in beer koozie on the front. So…yeah. In my defense, I did pick those things out BEFORE the tour.)
I also found my dream job in the Budweiser brewery…
Afterwards, we met up with Jacquie and the family for dinner: Mediterranean food, for the win! Nothing chases an afternoon at the brewery like chicken shwarma. Shwarma…mmm. Just sounds delicious, doesn’t it?
The next morning, my pal Bob and I were supposed to get up and go for a bike ride. However, it was cold-ish, and the temperature was not appealing to my sense of get out of the warm bed and go pedal at all. After texting back and forth for a bit about it, we decided to do what any normal person who doesn’t feel like braving the cool air to go on a bike ride does on a Saturday morning.
We went and ate bacon.
After that, A-Flizzle and I made our way toward the spa, where she had us lined up for a facial and a 1-hour deep tissue massage, respectively. Now, I’ve gotten a massage before, and my pump was never a big deal for the masseuse. In fact, every massage that I’ve ever gotten, I was able to keep my pump on and just slide it to the side and the masseuse was able to work around the tubing and the infusion set. No big deal, right?
Except, this masseuse was different. Although she was plenty nice enough, and she did a spectacular job of getting some of the knots out of my back and neck and shoulders, she was really weirded out by the idea of having to work around my continuous glucose monitor (CGM) sensor and insulin pump and infusion set. Because I needed that ding dang massage more than I needed diabetes at that moment, I decided to dose a couple of extra units for the hour, and then I took off my CGM sensor and my insulin pump so that I could get some relief. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.
In hindsight, I should have just let the masseuse be uncomfortable. Once the hour was up, I was a blob of mostly relaxation. A-Flizzle and I took a leisurely pace back to our room, at which time I stupidly decided a birthday cupcake was in order. A cupcake? Really?! Dumbass. Then I proceeded to get a shower, which was delightful, and full of hot water, and a window that I could look out of while scrubbing off eucalyptus oil. I’m like a cat. I can’t resist a good window to look out of. Hours of entertainment. Fortunately, the hot water didn’t last.
Keep in mind, I failed to put my insulin pump back on through this entire episode of Birthday for Dummies with Diabetes.
By the time I got done taking my sweet time with everything, my blood sugar was through the roof. I don’t even remember what it was by the time I put a new infusion set in and reconnected my insulin pump. Probably somewhere around 1,000,000 and rising. I felt like crap. Way to ruin your own birthday there, Wood. Brilliant.
I dosed the snot out of the high in hopes that I could get it at least dropping by the time we had dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in the whole wide world, 13 Gypsies. I was moderately successful, but really had to focus dinner on the lower carb items and lots of water to try and offset the effects of the afternoon.
See those eyes? That’s not glassy eyed from birthday beers. That’s worn out from fighting a high blood sugar all afternoon. I’d have preferred the former.
I guess the moral of this story is to never disconnect your insulin pump and remove the inset unless you have another one handy for immediately after whatever necessitated your getting naked. Because I am the last person in the world to vote against being naked. Also, maybe tell the spa and masseuse that you have type 1 diabetes and use an insulin pump so that they don’t freak the eff out when they see that you’re bionic.
Maybe also do this in an Austin Powers voice, just for style points. Yeah baby!