low

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)

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

A-Flizzle and Martin - Osborne Family Lights 2011

Holiday Traditions

National Health Blog Post Month, Day 25: Never Have I Ever. You stick to your guns – now tell us about what. What is something you’ve never done but want to? What’s something you’ve never done and won’t budge on?NHBPM_2011_Day25

Growing up, Thanksgiving for me was staked in tradition. All of my family would get together at my grandma’s house for the full Thanksgiving spread: Turkey, ham, stuffing, peas, cornbread, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, pies and cakes galore, and more.

Over the years though, tradition has been replaced with change. People’s lives take a turn, some for the better, others for the different. Family members that I grew up with all have families of their own now, and we have moved into our own lives, where many of us have formed our own traditions.

Last year for Thanksgiving, A-Flizzle and I were in the Caribbean. We were in Key West petting six-toed cats at Ernest Hemingway’s house.

Hemingway House 2010

We were having a great time at the Hog’s Breath Saloon.

Fun at Hogs Breath Saloon 2010

We were sitting in the Bahamas having guacamole that was made fresh right in front of our very eyes.

Holy Guacamole

We were on an island, enjoying the sun. We were snorkeling above underwater plane wreckage and shipwrecks. We were drinking copious amounts of Diet Coke that we had to climb several flights of stairs on a cruise ship to get refills for (totally worth it, by the way!).

With that same spirit in mind, but not having quite the same amount of time to get away this year, we decided to go to Disney World for Thanksgiving. We had some time left on our tickets that we had purchased during Friends For Life last summer, and we needed to use them before the end of the year, so we figured…why not?

We spent the day yesterday at Animal Kingdom ogling the wildlife and having wild adventures.

Animal Kingdom Elephant 2011

At Epcot, we got educated Disney-style and traveled back to the 80’s with a little Captain EO. At Hollywood Studios, we proceeded to get into the Christmas spirit with The Osborne Family Spectacle of Dancing Lights.

The Osborne Family Spectacle Of Dancing Lights 2011

Aside from losing my cell phone and a low BG of 35 that sneaked up on me at Epcot, which was fortunately caught and corrected without incident, it was a pretty awesome Thanksgiving.

There was a time when I would have said that I wouldn’t miss the time with my family on Thanksgiving. I feel like I haven’t budged on that ideal. I’ve just twisted the rules a little bit.

Have family, will adventure. Even on holidays.

A-Flizzle and Martin - Osborne Family Lights 2011

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

CGMs FFL 2011

To Be Thankful

National Health Blog Post Month, Day 23: Health Activist Choice. Write about whatever you want!NHBPM_2011_Day23

It’s Thanksgiving week, and Mike over at My Diabetic Heart has brought back Diabetes Blessings Week for the second year in a row. I was missing in action over the week of Thanksgiving last year, so I am excited to participate this year. It’s immensely important for people with diabetes to know that there are a ton of things that come along with diabetes that are totally worth being thankful for.

First there are low blood sugars to be thankful for. Now, I’m not talking about the severe lows where you get all shaky and sweaty and confused. I’m talking about the lows where you are just low enough to merit a snack that you wouldn’t normally eat any other time of the day. Maybe you get to treat a low with some juice, or a box of Nerds, or maybe even a little “Heck yeah, I’m having dessert with lunch today baby!” At least with diabetes, you can tell your friend who is sitting across the table from you watching you plow through your second bowl of homemade banana pudding, “Hey, don’t stare at me. It’s for my diabetes!”

Second, us people with diabetes tend to be more in tune with your body than most people without diabetes are. I think that is really cool. Because of our obsessive compulsive disord…um, attention to detail, we can live just as long as people without diabetes, and often without complications because we are able to catch many problems before they are a big deal. So congratulations to the newly diagnosed, you’re going to live forever! Or at least as long as the national average, which isn’t too bad at all these days.

Speaking of people with diabetes, those folks are worth being thankful for as well. Sure, diabetes is a lifetime commitment, but you get to join the finger pricker armed forces of the world in a battle to save mankind…who happens to have diabetes.

The folks that I’ve met in my world that embrace and encourage me AND my diabetes are those that I cherish the most. I remember days when “normal” was me hiding my diabetes as soon as I left the house. I would so adamantly do whatever I wanted in order to try and be like everybody else, and not let diabetes steal my spotlight. I’m not talking about wild behavior, but just simple things like driving a car, going to work, walking across a busy six-lane street (while low!) to get a snack. I mean, really? What was wrong with me?

I’ll tell you. I was so focused on everybody else in my world that I didn’t take the time to focus on me. I finally had to have a talk with myself. I said, “Self, that’s enough of living alone with diabetes. There are people out there that need you, and good grief, you need them too. If you’re low, say you’re low. If you’re high, say you’re high. And do something about them both. And stop pretending like you can outsmart diabetes when your blood sugar is below 50!”

I’m thankful for so many things in my world, but what I’m thankful for the most is the fact that I’m still here and able to be thankful.

CGMs FFL 2011

Jacquie, Jess, & me at Friends For Life 2011

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

This is also my post for Diabetes Blessings Week 2011: http://www.mydiabeticheart.com/diabetes-blessings-week/

Diabetes Blessings Week 2011

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

Martin and Mom - 2006

Bummin’ Around

National Health Blog Post Month, Day 18: A comment as a blog post. Pick someone else’s post (from the past or from today) and write a comment to them. Write that comment as your blog post for today. Link back to them to let them know you were inspired.NHBPM_2011_Day18

Yesterday, I was reading through the “Let It Be” themed blog posts, and one really stuck out to me. Jen, over at Blood, Sweat & Carbs, wrote about the fear that so many parents have when raising a child with Type 1 diabetes. Jen’s words are real, and vivid, and I know something that every single parent of a child with diabetes thinks about, but never wants to admit. For some reason, Jen’s fear reminded me of a story that I haven’t thought about in awhile.

One morning in my early 20’s, I woke up all alone, in a strange bed, cold, in a room well lit with fluorescent lights, covered with nothing but a thin sheet, wearing only a pair of shorts, and staring at the clock on the wall above the door, trying my best to figure out when and where in the world I was. Turned out I was in the emergency room, having had a severe low blood sugar and seizure early that morning.

My dad would always call me in the mornings when he was working off the coast of Louisiana on oil rigs, and he later said that I had answered the call, but then he heard a crack and the phone went dead. The crack was my head hitting the kitchen floor. My girlfriend at the time heard the commotion, found me in the floor, and called 911.

After the ambulance ride and whatever the doctors did in the ER to get me back to good, my girlfriend and my college roommate finally invaded my room in the ER after having been told to wait in the lobby for a time. It wasn’t long before my mom and grandma, who lived an hour and a half away, also showed up. I remember being happy to tears that they were all there, and that I wasn’t alone anymore. Hospitals are scary when you’re that low. Heck, the entire world is scary when you’re that low.

It was still relatively early morning when I was discharged from the ER. I was starving, so we all went to McDonald’s to get breakfast. And who doesn’t love McDonald’s breakfast? No one. It’s awesome. Anyway…

While we were in line, a homeless man asked my mom if she could spare a few dollars so that he could get some breakfast. Thankful that I was okay, and in the spirit of blessings, my mom didn’t hesitate to give the man a bit of the cash for him to get himself some food with. The disheveled man promptly took the money and headed for the door, where his friend was waiting, so that they could most likely go buy themselves some booze instead.

Seeing this, my mom marched after him and grabbed him by the collar before he could get out the door and told him, “Now, I gave you money because you were hungry and wanted breakfast, and I just picked up my son from the hospital and we are thankful to be alive this morning. I didn’t give you money to go blow it on booze and cigarettes.” She then proceeded to walk the man to the counter at McDonald’s, as if he was a six year old boy, and made him order breakfast for him and his friend. Then she took her change back and sent them on their way with a paper bag full of hot McDonald’s goodness.

Back where me, my girlfriend, and my grandma were sitting, we couldn’t stop laughing at the spectacle of my mom making this bum unexpectedly order him and his friend breakfast. To this day, that story that started out so frightening still brings a smile to my face.

I don’t know why Jen’s post made me think of it. Maybe just to illustrate that diabetes is what it is, and it is going to throw a curveball in the direction of all of us at some point. The key is to be ready, and to be thankful for all the times that diabetes doesn’t win, which hopefully far outnumber the more fearful moments. Remember that, as a parent, it is your reaction to diabetes that your child will remember and learn to mimic, and will carry with them through life.

And also, never give a bum money at McDonald’s. Walk him to the counter and make him order breakfast instead. (Thanks Mom!)

Martin and Mom - 2006

Me and Mom (2006)

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

Emmy_by_Alan_Light

Truths & Lies

National Health Blog Post Month, Day 8: 3 truths and 1 lie. Tell us 3 things that are true about you, your condition, your Health Activism, or your life. Now tell us 1 lie. Do you think we will be able to tell the difference?NHBPM_2011_Day08

My life with diabetes is a mixture of truths and lies. Since discovering and becoming part of the Diabetes Online Community (DOC), I have learned how to be more truthful about my diabetes, but that wasn’t always the case.

You see, I’m what they call stubborn when it comes to my diabetes. I will listen only when I want to, and I will divulge only what I want to, sometimes even to my own detriment.

It’s only been in the past couple of years that I will admit to how awful I actually feel when I’m running a high blood sugar. I’ve told A-Flizzle on more than one occasion that my crabbiness was because I was 200+ and just wanted to be left alone. I hate being high, and I don’t care who knows it. If I say I’m high, the best bet is to give me a wide berth.

I’m more likely to admit to being high, mainly because I don’t like it. Complaining helps. So does insulin.

What I’m not so good at is sharing when I’m low. Most of the time when I’m low, my natural tendency is to hide it. I will lie to you. I will tell you that I’m fine, and give the appearance that everything is totally okay. Meanwhile, inside, just below the surface where you can’t see, I’m kicking and flailing and fighting that low blood sugar like it’s nobody’s business. In my head, I deserve an Emmy for those performances. For lead actor in a diabetes-related hypoglycemic episode, the Emmy goes to…ME!

Emmy_by_Alan_Light

Photo by Alan Light (CC license - on Flickr at alan-light)

I notice it. I’ve even inadvertently embarrassed myself because of it. Sometimes when I’m low, I start to ramble and not make sense, but don’t possess the ability to shut up (kind of like this blog post). It’s especially inconvenient when I’m low and in meetings and trying to make a point that I can’t quite get out. And the whole stinking time I know I’m low, I’m just on low-brained auto pilot and gravitate toward my tendency to hide it instead of toward the need to say, “Hey gang, I’m low, I have to take care of this now and then we can continue.” Is anybody really going to begrudge me a break in a meeting? Probably not. And if they do, who cares?

It takes a trained eye to spot my low blood sugar tells. Sometimes I get twitchy, over analytical like I’m trying to figure out the secrets of the universe via the container that my glucose tabs are in, nonsensical motor mouth, shaky and clumsy, confused, maybe closing or covering one eye to ward off the double vision, suddenly sweating for no reason, or just sort of wandering around aimlessly and getting really irritated over nothing. Literally, nothing.

When it’s a bad low (not that the aforementioned symptoms are good, by far) and the act is over is when I go mute, and my eyes sort of glaze over, and I may even start staring at you awkwardly as if trying to tell you something of grave importance with my Jedi mind tricks. And I am too. I’m trying to tell you that I’m starting to shut down, and I need your help, and I can no longer tell you what I need with my words. I need you to know to get the glucose out of my desk, or the glucose tabs from off of my keychain, or the glucose gel out of my bag. I might even need you to help me get it in my stubborn mouth. It’s happened before. It will happen again. It is because I have diabetes.

So rather than write some post where I lie to you, I’m telling you, I will lie to you. But I may also need you. And I need you to know how to spot the truth behind my lies.

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