Saturday, January 19, 2013

This is not good.

"This is not good."

"This is not good."

I just kept repeating it.

There I was, standing with my shirt wrapped around my shoulder which had allowed the alcohol that I just swabbed on my skin to dry, before I placed the new site for the dex.

The site was on my skin, I had pressed firmly on the adhesive so that it would stick.

I have been inserting sensors just like this for months, but this time was different.

As I slowly inserted the sensor with the inserter needle guiding it in, something sucked.  Bad.

Sonofamotherlessgoat. Holy. pain. Batman.

Let's be clear, I don't even deal well with perceived pain (you may not be in pain - but if it looks like you could be - I am feeling for ya).

With every slight press, pushing the needle further in caused shocking pain.

"This is not good."

"This is not good."

I began to feel weak, and pale.

I broke out into a sweat.

"Babe, what's going on?"

"This is not good.  The pain.  I'm gonna pass out from the pain."

He was up in a flash, tossing pillows on the floor beside me. 

"What do you need?"

I knew I couldn't pass out - the needle was only half way in, if I moved at all it would be twisting under my skin.

"What needs to happen, babe?"

It felt like my head was shoved in a glass jar - everything was muffled and echoing.  My knees were failing me - so he held me up. 

I needed to finish inserting the sensor and pull the collar up to remove the needle from my skin. Then I could hit the floor.

I got the insertion done and then I couldn't remember how to release the attachment from the site. It was like I was low. Fingers fumbled, squeezing tabs, and trying not to cry.

I could finally sit down.  Gagging insued.  My ears were ringing and buzzing loudly.  My forehead was covered in sweat.

"Are you okay?"

"Yep. Uh. Yeah. Thanks for everything." I managed a weak smile.


Well, that's was different.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

All I Want For Christmas

My family and I did a small gift exchange this year. 

Due to the fact most of us travel and have limited space for storing large gag gifts in our residences, we have gone for "you-had-to-have-this" gifts.

This year my older sister was super excited.

As I slowly opened the gift I did the obligatory squeeze and shake to see if I could figure out what it was.

A stocking?

A toy for the cats?

And then it clicked.

Ah dang, I just got a pancreas for Christmas!


My sister walked by a big bin filled with guts and feverishly searched for a pancreas.

Most people may have laughed (which I did) and thanked her (which I did), but then I had a moment.

I was holding my very own pancreas.  An item which I had prayed for (well, okay, it wasn't exactly what I had prayed for).

I sighed.  And smiled.

Then, I put it on top of the 4 packages of Canadian-made cakes and chocolate my Dad got me.

Ha. Chew on that diabetes.




(you can get your very own guts for you or a friend at iheartguts.com - Enjoy!)

Sunday, January 13, 2013

This Victory is Brought To You By . . .

July 13th was the date of my last A1c.  6.9.  Higher than I hoped but not outrageous.  Due to a tumultuous summer my sugar skyrocketed and my deductible vanished.

It was because we met our deductible on our HSA, that I approached my Doctor in September.

"So . . . I met my deductible."

"Ooh, so what else do you want to try out?"

And that's how I got the Dex.

I have loved it since I got it, and the additional challenge of keeping my blood sugar between the lines has been a nice change of pace in terms of my management (instead of test, react, forget for 8 hours, test, freak out, react).

Getting my blood drawn the other day, I automatically began to spout off reasons why my A1c won't be ideal.

"You know, I was really sick over thanksgiving."

"Christmas was packed with unknown carbs and goodies, and stress, and travel."

"My schedule has been way off."

The results came back the day after.

6.1.   SIX-POINT-FREAKIN'-ONE?!?!?!?

"THAT'S AWESOME!"

This is my lowest A1c that I can remember, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't squeal when I heard that.

This victory is brought to you by the letters C, G, and M.  I am so much more aware of what my sugar is doing, catching and bringing down the highs sooner, and keeping my mind engaged in daily corrections of blood sugar.

Boo. yah. 

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Happy New Year - what a difference a letter makes.



It is the grand New Year's tradition to decide what you want to achieve in the upcoming year. 

Sure, I have set goals (read: said lofty things in honor of tradition), and put forth half a heart to succeed, but I really just expected failure.  

When the imminent derailment arrives (hello?! - I'm human!), I throw my hands in the air, wave the white flag, and wait another 362 days until the next fresh start.

What a difference a letter makes.

reS·o·lu·tion

[rez-uh-loo-shuh n] 
noun
1. a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group. Compare concurrent resolution, joint resolution.
2. a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something.
3. the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.
4. the mental state or quality of being resolved or resolute; firmness of purpose.
5. the act or process of resolving or separating into constituent or elementary parts.
 
reV·o·lu·tion
 
[rev-uh-loo-shuh n]
noun
1. an overthrow or repudiation and the thorough replacement of an established government or political system by the people governed.
2. Sociology. a radical and pervasive change in society and the social structure, especially one made suddenly and often accompanied by violence. Compare social evolution.
3. a sudden, complete or marked change in something: the present revolution in church architecture.
4. a procedure or course, as if in a circuit, back to a starting point.
5. a single turn of this kind.
  

Resolutions?  ugh.  How 'bout a revolution!? Could it be that my reSolutions have lacked planning and determination? Has my "firmness of purpose" lacked passion and a vicious overthrowing of anything that gets in the way?

Not this year, my friend.  I have reconfigured my workout room, set a weekly schedule of possible workouts, set weekday and weekend schedules, and articulated specific goals for my mind, body, and soul. I have set in place times for rest and rejuvenation on a daily and weekly basis. I. want. change.

But most importantly, I have already set a standard of grace.  The schedules are to provide guidance and structure and will act as suggestions when I am too tired to decide what to do.  But when the day comes (and it WILL come) when my schedule gets knocked out of whack, I will not lose my resolve, but I will continue on with dogged determination.  Knowing that what I want to do, nay, what I need to do, will benefit me (and the person who lives with me) in the long run, I will persist. 

May you allow grace to lead you to live a life of discipline and grace. 


Here's to the new year - viva la revolucion!