You can come after me if you want, diabetes, but it will be the last thing you do. I promise you that.

Alarms have been my new thing.  Suggested to me, to snap me out of whatever land I may be in at the time a blood sugar is needed.  

And one of those alarms, is this blog's title (minus the diabetes, of course).

So I got to thinking on my walk today, about said title phrase, and the various news stories I've heard about how many cancer patients have a fighting mentality about cancer.  They're going beat it.  Fight it. Own it.  Insert creative adjective here.  There have even been reports of patients getting PTSD from this fighting mentality.

And then I got to thinking about my diabetes, and if this mentality would work for me as well.

And the more I thought about it, the more I thought it was a different type of fight and the same type of fight, all in one.

In one sense, you would have to fight till the death, but in another sense you don't win by curing yourself, you win because you didn't get complications.

And perhaps, diabetes burn out, results from constantly fighting the good fight.  Fight Fight Fight Fight with no let up.  And if you put your guard down for one day, one hour, one millisecond... you're on the ground.

So mentally, how do you address diabetes in a way that doesn't totally suck the life out of you, but that also makes you a stick in the mud?

More and more, I think of diabetes being more like Parkinson's Disease (my dad has it).  I watch how, if he doesn't get the doses exactly right, he will get the side effects of the drugs (intense shaking).

I watch how it slows him down both mentally and physically.  Parkison's, is another disease you just can't ignore unless you want to be on the ground (so to speak).  (I'm sure there are a lot of diseases that come in this fashion).

And he has to set a variety of alarms to remind him to take certain pills, and if he forgets, things go haywire.  But where his effects are immediate, ours are more insidious.

You know the consequences are coming.  You don't know when and you don't know how, but you know they are coming.....

My name is Boyd Crowder.  You can come after me if you want, but it will be the last thing you do.  I promise you that.  

In the long run, how realistically, can we maintain a Boyd Crowder stance?  For a Justified (tv show) stand point, Diabetes, is like the law chasing after Boyd constantly waiting to catch him in the act.  And sometimes he is caught.

At one point Boyd has an interesting exchange with Raylan:

Boyd: What brings you to my house?
Raylan: Oh, this is your house now?
Boyd: Why, yes, prison is my home.

And how would that look with diabetes and yourself?

Boyd: What brings you to my house?
Diabetes: Oh, this is your house now?
Boyd: Why, yes, prison is my home.

Maybe we don't break free from Diabetes?
But maybe accepting this, gives us more power?

We know, that sooner or later, we will get out of our rut.  We'll put up the good Boyd challenge.  But when we let our guard down, and get caught, maybe we need the same Boyd mentality.

To shrug the fact that sure, diabetes won today, but it won't everyday.

 

The Dia-Band

Stealth meter carrying.... perhaps.

Remember The Name

I have come to the following conclusions about diabetes management and myself:

1. I will not test my blood unless my meter is ON MY BODY. 
2. I will not remember to do follow up blood tests, or even be inclined to do them, unless I set my phone to go off. 
3. I will not have my snacks if I don't have an alarm that goes off. 

My alarm that goes off is the theme to the TV show Justified, because I've become a fan of Boyd Crowder, and well....   I sometimes feel as nutty as he does, when:

1. My blood sugar isn't doing what it should do.
2. I'm counting everything right, but it's still being evil
3. I'm feeling less human and more bionic 

Alarms, are my savior. Or, at least one of my saviors.  Because I hyperfocus so much on certain things, work, internet, youtube, work, ANYTHING ACCEPT DIABETES MANAGEMENT, that the alarm snaps me out of fantasy land and makes me THINK for a few seconds about blood sugar management and then, after that 5 second test is done, I can go back to whatever was distracting me at that moment.   

For the time being it's working.  

I am thinking, I need to make an arm sleeve that would have elastic hoops in it, which would carry my blood sugar meter, poker and strips on.....  I realize this would already cause people to look at me like I belong in the mental ward.... which on some days, I think I do belong there, but.... I know myself.  I know, that if my reminder goes off to test my blood and I am upstairs, and my meter is not within that area, you can forget about me testing my blood. This is the hard but honest truth. 

I'm finally wearing my scanner again-- although, unless you want to tell every nosy person on the planet what it is, don't place it on your arm....   although, I might, and then make stuff up about what it really is....  

"It's a tracker the FBI implanted in me."

"It's an alien pea pod"

"It's my device to blow shit up with" (Boyd reference)  [and just to clarify, NO, I don't want to blow shit up LITERALLY]

It's amazing the odd looks you get, if you really let your sensor be visible to the public.  (Stay away from that chick.... somethin' ain't right.) 

On that note, should I make an arm sleeve that carries my meter, I will post pictures.... 

In the meantime, here is a Boyd Crowder video.... heaven forbid, he ever have to test his blood sugar!

The Elephant In The Room

I was never a person who liked babies or little kids. I cringed at crying. I avoided people with strollers. I didn't know how to talk to them. I thought women were crazy for even wanting them... until my baby nephews were born... As soon as I held my first nephew in my arms just a day or two old, I transformed, and the love and joy I felt as a new Aunt was overwhelming. I loved watching him explore his world, and the different toys, and the pure joy he expressed whenever he had a bouncy ball. I love hearing the new words they learn to say and the phrases. I love that my older nephew (almost 2) calls me "Dah-ba-day"---that is my official name, and I assume proud ownership of it! It evolved to be my name because I'd repeat phrases and words he would say, and it eventually stuck. :) As an Aunt I feel that they are my rental babies. I didn't have total responsibility for them, but I could love them with an unconditional feeling that I don't experience often. I have laughed more, I have loved more, I have grown more. And no, it's not baby fever. I don't consider myself capable of having my own children (at least at this point), I can barely take care of myself. But I have learned that Aunts can be like moms too and can play a pivotal role in the development and in their lives. So what's the elephant in the room? It's a confused saddness that I feel, and that I'm sure my two sisters who have the nephews feel, that my brother has been rather ice cold to even attempting to get to know his nephews. It has created an invisible space between him and the family, that doesn't show any sign of shrinking. He (and his wife), has had multiple opportunities to visit with not just me but with my nephews, because I see my sister more than I see him. And one example will probably be this weekend. We are celebrating the first birthday of my nephew... this is the one who lives is Mississippi, so it's not like we can do a hop, skip, and jump and be over there. He has already said he will not be coming because his wife is sick-- which, may be the case, but my sister only visits for a set time in the summer, and if my brother doesn't come to this party, he will most likely not see her or his nephew. I know they are not crazy about kids or babies. In fact, I am sure that had all of the feelings I have mentioned above. But despite this, I just feel saddness because I think they are missing a wonderful opportunity to become closer with this family, instead of becoming farther apart. He is a stranger to both nephews and I am not sure if this will ever change. I have several pictures on my desk of my baby nephews, at different ages, holding them, seeing their smiles, and their love for life. My favorite is of me holding one of them, who is fast asleep and smiling, and I am smiling too. I know that you cannot make someone like babies/kids and I know I am being critical. I just feel like he's missing something special, something you don't get every day to experience. I wish he would hold one of the nephews (something he's never done), and maybe let some of those inhibitions go. To let go of whatever fear he might have, so he could experience more of the most memorable and joyfull moments that I have experienced... Babies offer hope. Hope that the world can become a better place. Hope that our planet can be taken better care of. Hope for new possibilities. And they can light up a person and when they visit, they can drag you out of the darkness and strife so well, that you forget you were ever in it to begin with....

Wordless Wednesday: Feelings

Wordless Wednesday: Would You Ask?

When I'm sitting down to eat...

I am not expecting the Spanish Inquisition.  I have had Type 1 for over 15 years and I have had my share of food police and then some.

Well, the other day I sat down to some turkey soup.  It really didn't have that much turkey for protein, so I picked some ham out of the freezer and thawed it to increase my protein.  I also set down my food scale to weigh my items.  And it quite literally went like this:

"What's that?"

"A food scale." 

"Why are you using it?" 

"To weigh my food." 

"Have you done this for a while?"

"It's fairly recent." 

"Where'd you get the ham?"

"The freezer."

"Why did you get the ham?" 

"To add protein to my food." 

"Are you on some kind of diet?"

"Sortove." 

"Then why would you eat more meat? ...educate me."

At this point, I gave him the "death stare," as in-- ask me one more question about my food and I will kill you with my laser beam eyes.

Things like this make me utterly pissed off because of the loaded guilt and feeling of being scrutinized for every God damned food choice you make.  It's a feeling that I'm sure most diabetics have experienced in their life--  and it's not a one-time deal.  

I almost feel like making a stop sign to have at the dinner table:  "Diabetic Police Banned" or "Mind your own food."

I don't mind answering questions about diabetes and food choices, but I do mind when I'm trying to enjoy dinner--- give me a break.  I think about diabetes 24/7.  I deserve to have a moment of peace after I've counted my exchanges and weighed my food.

Week 1 Roundup

Wordless Wednesday

The "E" Word

Dear Endocrine Office:

I've been re-evaluating my diabetes control-- or lack there of, and I've come to some conclusions that I think could have been reached a lot sooner....

One night, I began thinking about the specific carb counting.  How everything you eat you have to look up on the package, get a calculator, and add it all up.  I starting thinking that there were other ways diabetics maintained control.  There's got to be more the one way to skin a cat. . .

I remembered back in the day when I was diagnosed, when everything was based on exchanges.  That's right, I said the "E" word.  I began refreshing myself about how the exchange system worked and how foods were grouped into different categories, but they pretty much had the same amount of carbs-- give or take a little bit.

I was also thinking of my lifestyle and how time consuming it is to look up specific carbs and hope you've counted correctly for intensive therapy.  I thought about how it simply wasn't working for me.   I reviewed my sensor overlay and the average high was 396 and the average low was 196.  It just wasn't working.  And I began thinking about how easy it would be to say.... look at a normal slice of bread and think "1" exchange.  Half a banana.... another exchange.  And how easy it would be to just go into the Revel and click the button 2 times, and tada!

I think looked into my pump, the Revel, and noticed that they had an option for exchanges as well!  And thus I started the great experiment.

I went on youtube and found a few good exchange videos explaining the deal and I got a small pocket diabetic exchange book from the ADA.

I have noticed major differences already.

1.  Last night was the first night that my blood sugar didn't go through the roof while I was sleeping.
2.  Last nights dinner I had 2/3 cup pasta, salad, and 2 one ounce pieces of garlic bread.  Under regular carb counting, my two hour blood sugar would be at least 250 if not higher.  Well, when I did the exchange method, I was 119 after my two hour reading.

So, I've decided each week I'm going to use my sensor daily overlay to compare the week based on my current experiment.  The picture below is the week where I didn't start the exchange system until the last day.

If this works, then I'll continue to use this system.  Just because one treatment works good for some people, doesn't mean it will work better for everyone....

So here's to the "E" word!

Sensory Daily Overlay:  The Week Before I changed to the exchange system.

Yours Truly,
Beta Cell Bandit.

Meal time.

If you want to discuss issues you discuss them at the table.
During a meal.
So every meal looms with some back corner problem waiting to ruin everything.

Today, was one of those meals.
Another one of those "You're not exercising enough" meals.
Another one of those "You aren't going to be able to do your future job as a nurse because you're not exercising" meals.

No other sibling, with the exception of possibly my brother, confronts persistent critical comments like me-- and maybe that's why we rarely see my brother. Maybe he just doesn't want to "go there" any more.

In this conversation, somehow, telling me that I would have to work at Target if I couldn't do my nursing program was supposed to inspire me to do more and more ankle exercises...

And then we slip into another one of these pointless conversations which goes around and around with me trying to point out that I am struggling with things and with them suggesting I can just "fix it" with a sticky note.

If it was that easy, I would have to buy stock in sticky notes.

I don't really want to type what came out of this discussion because it makes me both sad and angry at the same time.  Certain parties are angry, and per cue everyone vanished to different parts of the house... so that we can sweep this under the rug until the next meal and the next meal and the next, until I want to starve myself because I just want to enjoy my meal without being reminded about how many things I am doing wrong.

What Color is Your Pain?

A lesson in color, imagery, and comfort. 

Two days ago and yesterday, I was in horrible pain.  I went to a quilt show with my mom and a friend and this had been the longest time I had been on my feet since dealing with this posterior tibial tendon dysfunction (pttd).  PTTD pain is like having someone take a sharp blade and slice it through the arch of your foot.  It's so bad, you can't step on it. 

Pain does horrible things to a persons emotional state if you don't keep it in check.  It can make you wonder how much more you can take it, it can make you frequently frustrated and angry, and it can feel hopeless-- especially when doctors say "There is nothing we can do for you pain."  This is a dead end answer-- and, it assumes that drugs are the only thing that can relieve pain. 

Fast forward... 

Today I came across a blog called: 

Color, Imagery, and Comfort

In short it offers a steps using imagery to deal with either pain and/or stress. 

First, think of the worst possible pain you've every experienced. 

Assign a color for that pain.

(I'm going to assign an intense red color for mine.) 

Second, think of when you're comfortable-- not necessarily pain free... and assign a color for that.

(I'm going to assign a gold color for this)

Third, think of an object-- food, flower, ect. 

I'll choose a pencil. 

Fourth, strip away the color gradually... as described in her blog: 

When you are in severe pain, picture this object being covered by the color you assigned to represent the highest level of pain you can possibly endure–the ugliest and harshest pain you have ever experienced. With this type of imagery, you focus on removing the dark color from the object and replacing it with the color representing your comfort level. Now the trick of it is to focus on it as if you were scraping away the darkness little by little–paying close attention to the detail of the object and the location of the color around it.

In the beginning, you might want to just hurry up and remove the “bad” color and go right to replacing it with the “good” or comforting one but what I have found to be key is taking a little more time and watching the change reveal itself gradually–just like pain tends to respond to comfort measures…Rather than go directly from black to white, I selected colors in between that I felt represented different levels of pain and comfort. As I moved closer to my comfort level, my colors progressed from the darkest to the lightest shades. As I carefully and methodically removed the black color from my object, I found a layer of a little lighter color waiting for me. I could not move onto the next color until I had completely removed the previous one.

Lastly, imagine the removal of color as a removal of pain......

Now it is important for you to equate the removal of color with the removal of pain or discomfort because remember–your color represents your pain at any given level. What I have found is this–as I progressed toward the white color, my pain levels would ease a little–sometimes more than others. Perhaps sometimes you will practice this form of imagery when your pain is moderate rather than severe.

In this case, you might select a different color along your color spectrum and start the fading process from that point. And maybe you will change your particular object to other things when your source of pain differs. The neat thing about these skills is that you own them and if something specific works for you then by all means incorporate it. Some people imagine very large objects when they have “very large” headaches and they go about ridding of their painful color using a paint brush that has wide strokes. Others prefer to use an eraser and erase their pain away as if in layers until they reveal a perfectly clean and white object. If this works for you then use it! 

----

In another illness when I was in DKA and in the hospital for 5 days, I had severe pain from people sticking my arm to draw blood so many times.

There was only one person through that entire ordeal, who had enough gumption to practice imagery with me.

It wasn't a Doctor.
It wasn't a Nurse.
It wasn't a Social Worker.
It wasn't a nurse assistant.


It was the head of the phlebotomy department.
In that brief moment before she even did anything, she used imagery with me-- and it made a difference.


What color is your pain?
Your stress?
Your diabetes?

My CGM is like Your Rainbow Bracelet.

I wear it with pride.

I get odd, suspicious looks. 

I get questions. 

And that's okay...

But I may start to charge $5. :)

Maybe I should start saying it's a bug for the secret service.... 

Something Seems Off...

So I have the "Eat Smart Precision Pro Digital Kitchen Scale":

And I got it mainly because we make a lot of homemade bread at home and it's very difficult to know how many carbs are in the bread.  

Tonight I weighed a large corn on the cob in grams.  It weighed 209 grams.... 

In the booklet that came with the scale, it said the USDA number was 0.25 for corn.  

Assuming I'm doing my math right.... which has a 98% chance of being wrong, I did the following: 

209 x 0.25 = 52.25 ...carbs, right?

If it is right, that number seems a bit high.... 

In the newest Calorie King book, a large corn comes out to be: 28 carbs. 

This seems to be a fairly big gap. 

I have also noticed that I have gotten blood sugars lower than I like when calculating bread items. 

What is going on and am I doing something wrong? 

The Tape Solution...

Perhaps using less tape and less skin area will create less skin irritation... yes? 

This one time, at diabetes camp...

I got stuck in the middle of the lake with a British guy and another camper, because the British guy forgot to fill the boat with gas before taking us tubing.

I remember going to a group where there was a guy who was one of the first selected to try an insulin pump.

I remember midnight pricks... and how if you were low at midnight then you got pricked again at 2am....


But what I don't remember, is a sense of belong that I do with online diabetes communities.  Maybe it was my age-- maybe I wasn't quite over the shock of this diagnosis... maybe I was simply too angry... I'm just not quite sure how I felt being with "other diabetics."

I DO know, that I had to go to diabetes camp before I could go to the music camp Interlochen-- the place I really wanted to go.  And oddly, I felt a bigger connection with my peers through music than through diabetes alone.

I also think there were several girls in my cabin who had issues.... (like I should talk, hah).  But you could tell they were struggling too...

Anyways, I think I want a happier song today.  And this song just cracks me up. lol...

Have a good day!

321

I test I feel a prick

I stick and make a wish

That today might be enough

to see how much

 I'm

running at

It's a tip of the hat

Keep runnin games with this cat

Wishing that

Somewhere, someone was at

To show me how this is done

And how to make it this fun

And those who

think these feelings aren't real and say

positive is what they only feel:

Man up and grow a pair

and confront your despair

Because if you don't

down the road, you'll be pullin' out hair

Wishing you were level with yourself

and your care

321

Throw my hands up I'm done

So sick and tired of this

Docs tell me that I've

Fucked up, go ahead and throw back the fish

T1 has done it again

Don't tell me we can be friends

Cause friends don't mess with your head

Feel like going back to bed

and starting all over again

Like a music box stuck in reverse

It's no love, it's a curse

Shooting high

Shooting low

It's insidious and slow

And those who

think these feelings aren't real and say

positive is what they only feel:

Man up and grow a pair

and confront your despair

Because if you don't

down the road, you'll be pullin' out hair

Wishing you were level with yourself

and your care

Wednesday is high

so what, tomorrow it's low

And just go with the flow.

however you ride

that never ending tide

of feeling, impossibly out of control 

But a number is just a number 

or is it?

Throwing you off your game

feeling tired with thirst

Feeling at your worst 

Or raiding food 

like it's the last thing on Earth

It's just a numbers game

Never knowing when you'll throw

a snake eyes

But we just cover it up with 

lies

And those who

think these feelings aren't real and say

positive is what they only feel:

Man up and grow a pair

and confront your despair

Because if you don't

down the road, you'll be pullin' out hair

Wishing you were level with yourself

and your care

Yep...

This totally made my day. lol...

If you ain't 1, sit down. lol....

Day In the Life

Wake up.  Test Blood.... fuck.  Too much snack last night to fix low blood sugar.

Finish eating.

Decide to do a bike ride.

But you can't do a bike ride unless you use your yellow theraband to warm up because otherwise the pain will be bad.

After stretches, it's time to wrap:

Finish bike ride.  Left leg is always more swollen then right.  Remove ace.

I mark my stretches and exercise on a gigantic list of physical therapy exercises I have to do... because the Diabetic Police teamed up with the Physical Therapy Police for a good laugh...

Lunch.  Test Blood Again.  Better...

Go out to store.
Come back.

Test again...  feeling pangs of hunger...

Feel a LOW coming on.
Chocolate soy milk.
Uncounted number of pretzels + peanut butter.

Dinner... Test again... over treat yet again...

Followed by a dinner ending with: "Why didn't you eat any salad... you haven't eaten salad in several days... blah blah blah blah....."

"I'm FULL," I snap... resentment building because I know for a damn fact that I've had salad other nights--- but no, if I don't eat salad one night it's the end of the fucking universe. "I've had salad other nights and I don't need it all the time!"  At which the rest of her argument just sounds like mumbling because I'm too damn angry to even care at that point.

Diabetic Food Police strike again.

Go into the computer room, shut the door.
Consider making a giant card board box with a sign that says "Diabetes Police Free Zone" to wear over my head and torso for meals.

Practice some anger management...

Wish there was someone to help fight the battles with....

Blog about it.

Dear Author of the "All-New Complete Step-by-Step Diabetic Cookbook":

I am thoroughly enjoying making your recipes and enjoy their relatively low carb/fat amount.

Such as:

French Style Green Beans (1/2 C serving)

Calories: 49

Fat: 1.3g

Protein: 2.4g

Carbs: 8.1g

Peppered Garlic Flounder (1 fillet serving)

Calories: 170

Fat: 2.3g

Protein: 32.4g

Carbs: 2.4g

New Potatoes with Chives (10 quarters)

Calories: 94

Fat 1.2g

Protein: 2.5g

Carb: 18.9g

Lemon Sauced Scallops (or Shrimp): 5 ounces

Calories: 278

Fat: 3.7g

Profein: 34.5g

Carbs: 24.7g

Baked Hush Puppies (1 hush pup)

Calories: 56

Fat: 2.9g

Protein: 1.1g

Carbs: 6.2g

Thank you for the fun recipes! 

~Content Beta Bandit