It's a Fox!

Back in the day, while folding laundry or driving in the car, my dad would sporadically call out "it's a fox!" I would turn to look out the window, and  . . . (if we were doing laundry), red undies would, inevitably, land on my head.  I fell for the joke, once again.  In fact, I fell for it so often, that I began to question every time he pointed!

Today, some big news has hit the DOC via the Diabetes Research Institute (DRI). 

Here is the video from the DRI:

There are a lot of "would be"s,  "will be"s and "is creating", etc., but if you are not paying attention it seems like this is available now. The following paragraph speaks in reference to the BioHub in its visionary sense (from the DRI website's BioHub page).

The BioHub is a bioengineered “mini organ” that mimics the native pancreas. It contains real insulin-producing cells that can sense blood sugar and release the precise amount of insulin needed -- in real time.

To the millions living with diabetes, the BioHub brings the promise of natural insulin production and normal blood sugar levels one step closer to reality.

In their video the words, "miracle" and "cure" pop up.  Also, the woman (patient) featured in the video who 'is currently free from diabetes' received an islet transplant (the words quickly flash at the bottom of the screen) years ago and is not a recipient of the latest technology.  In fact most recipients of the transplant must maintain a regimen of anti-rejection drugs.

People who have lived with this disease a lot longer than I have, can attest to the fact that they have been hearing that there will be a cure in the next 5-10 years - and that they have been hearing that for the last 30 years.

Reading Amy Tenderich's piece on dLife is very helpful on negotiating the "breakthrough" news.

Diabetes Mine also has a great article on this latest news.

What I know today is I that my reality hasn't changed  . . . yet.  There are huge possibilities for closed-loop systems and artificial pancreai (?) from many companies.  I am grateful for continued research to end Type 1 diabetes and excited for the future!

Today, I have diabetes.  Tomorrow has not yet come.

. . . and a Dexcom Tan

Mastisol.

My diabetes supplier doesn't carry it, neither could I find it at my local pharmacy.

Enter Super Nurse Friend.  So I gained 6 vials of Mastisol before my vacation. 

I had never used it, but I heard rave reviews from tons of PWD (people with diabetes) who used it to improve and prolong adhesive (specifically Dexcom).

So I tried it.

After a week of salt water, pool water, sand, sun, and sweat, (plus a week of being home) the dexcom remained.

Enter one of the most unique tan "lines" I have ever had.

Sun, Sand . . .

I didn't look like a supermodel.

I didn't speak Spanish like a local.

Even though my first two goals didn't pan out, it was still an incredible week of rest, renewal, and time with family. (First on my agenda was a hug from my mom.  Long overdue, and just what I needed.)

 

 But on the diabetes side of things . . . my body loves the heat.

• I didn't get that 3:30pm craving for chocolate because I was too busy in chillin' in the pool.
• The heat enabled my body to use insulin way more efficiently - if I was high I didn't stay there long, and I used less insulin all 'round.
• I was more physically active than I am at my desk job - but only slightly.
• Stress took a major vacation.

When we tested out a new mattress, I didn't realize how bad the old one was when we slept on the new one.  I knew that the new one felt great - but it was only when we had to go back to the old one temporarily that I realized how bad the old one really was.  Waking up sore and tossing and turning all night was our normal. 

It was the same with vacation.

Hot dang, the weather was beautiful, the only decisions there were deciding "pool or hammock?" and the goal of each evening was to listen to the waves crashing against the beach, and feel the breeze off the bay. I didn't look at a screen (tv, computer, or otherwise) for a whole week. It. was. amazing.

What I realized on re-entry back home was that I have been living in a pretty high-strung pattern.  As soon as we landed, I was biting my nails, thinking about work responsibilities, my to-do list, and real-life.  Only after getting home after this totally relaxing vacation did I realize the crazy amount of stress that I had allowed myself to expect as "normal".

But as much as I would love to "live on vacation" my money tree orchard has not produced any fruit.

What I have determined is that I need to limit how stressed I get about things that don't require as much attention as I give them. (Lesson: Urgent = family emergency.  Not urgent = being down to my last Baby Ruth candy bar).

Near the end of our vacation we still hadn't realized the dream of going whale watching, and planning was proving to be a challenge without a phone or easily accessible internet.  My mom wisely said "I don't want to spend to much time striving to make this happen.  If it doesn't happen in one phone call, it's not worth the stress." 

She knew what striving or trying to force something to happen does - it sucks the 'vacate' out of vacation and replaces it with 'action'.

Here's to a mini-vacation every day (5 minutes would do).  And giving my body the rest it needs to deal with life's realities.

 

Loss.

June 2012.

I was exhausted - more so than I have ever been, except for maybe my life pre-diabetes diagnosis.  A few other symptoms popped up and on July 12th I decided to take a pregnancy test. 

It seemed to me that it couldn't turn blue fast enough (I passed!) and I made an appointment to get a blood test (along with my whole blood work panel) the next day to verify the results.

Everything looked good across the board, even my HbA1c was okay (6.9).  Being that an HCG hormone level of 5mIU/ml is not pregnant, my 79,000mIU/ml gave a pretty good indicator that, yes, I was pregnant.  I got in for an ultrasound the week after, because we had no idea how far along I was.  I was choosing names and googling "creative ways to announce pregnancy".  A few days later, we got the results.

The ultrasound showed that though I was 8 weeks along, there was no heart activity. 

We were shocked and devastated.  We asked - anonymously - for prayer.  I couldn't face people with questions, let alone sympathy, while I was trying desperately to hold it together at work.

I began the search for an OB that we could trust.  Through tons of questions to close friends I found a doctor that we were comfortable with.  She treated us with kindness and sympathy.

Ultimately, we were hoping that God would give us the miracle of life - we even dared to speak it out loud.  The night before the second ultrasound, I looked at my husband and whispered the words, "I want life."

A second ultrasound, almost 2 weeks after the first one, confirmed the initial findings.

Our young one was to go straight to heaven.

On August 6th I had a D&C to remove the fetal tissue since things didn't happen naturally (I even still felt pregnant up until that day).

We were heartbroken.


 . . . . . . . . . . . . Fast forward 5 months.

Due to a prompting from intuition (read: nausea), I got my HCG levels tested. 7,800mIU/ml - indicated a WAY lower number than my previous pregnancy (the only one I could compare it to).  I got tested again the week after and my levels had doubled. A good sign.  My A1c was also 6.1 - woot CGM!

The hubby and I were hesitant to get excited until I was further along, but we were cautiously encouraged by the doubling number.

On Wednesday, I began having a few very mild cramps.

While I was at work on Thursday, the cramps increased and I began to lose some blood. I called my doctor and we did some blood work and they scheduled me for an ultrasound on Friday morning.  I knew something was wrong.

After a night of no sleep, pain, and other unpleasantries (to say the very least), early Friday morning, I experienced a complete miscarriage.

Heartbreak. again.

_________________________________________________________________________

The doctor assured me that this was not my fault, nor the fault of diabetes.  We will do what we can to figure out, treat, and prevent this from happening again (inasmuch as we can control).

Guilt is already associated with miscarriage by women who don't have diabetes.  I struggled with the fact that I had taken over-the-counter medicine to get rid of a stubborn cold.  But I was assured by my doctor that it wouldn't have been enough to cause the miscarriage.  Today I had someone tell me that maybe I would "wonder about that extra candy bar I had eaten since that may have caused my miscarriage".  Ugh.  Thank goodness I had already done enough research to know that one high blood sugar can't cause a miscarriage.  But it still stung.  And I had no energy to set them straight.

It's not my fault.  And just because we didn't get the miracle we wanted doesn't mean that God doesn't like us.

Sometimes people think that life with Jesus is easy.  No more struggles - all good, all the time.  But the truth is that life with Jesus can introduce more complications.

I know He has the power to heal and to breathe life where there is none.  He has the power to resurrect the dead. 

But sometimes, He doesn't.  And He doesn't tell you why.

But then He makes beautiful things out of dust.

I will say that though there were times of excruciating heartache, my experience in the hospital and time of recovery were truly God blessed.  I wasn't anxious, and it was SO peaceful (a hospital is RARELY described as peaceful).  Even though we were in the valley of death, the Lord was with us.

We have also been given the gift of empathy with others who have suffered a similar loss.  In fact, God provided a dear friend on the day we scheduled the D&C.  We decided to stop somewhere we rarely go - and she was there.  Knowing that she had miscarried too, God used her hug and her words in a huge way to carry our burden.

This has also brought my husband and I closer together and Jesus has enabled us not to take it for granted if He does choose to grant us a child.  We couldn't set our wedding date like everyone else until 6 months of paperwork were completed (more on that later) - and the joy was multiplied on our wedding day because it had not been an easy road. And I believe it will be the same with childbirth.

I don't pretend to know every answer, or be blissfully satisfied with every bump in our road, but Jesus

gives peace where there is chaos

hope where there is despair

and joy where there is sorrow.


He makes beauty out of dust.

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.

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!)

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.