Confessions of a low

So the other day I did blog about some of my own sugar struggles. I am thankful for the comments you all have made and the support/ability to just get these things out in the open. So I figure I might as well continue to express my own issues and stuff with bloody (no pun intended lows). It’s a Sunday so there is no reason to use the words I want to use…. yet.

Last night I spent about 25 minutes chilling in the back of an ambulance thanks to an attack of a low. I state that I am fine, no issues, the only thing damaged was my pride and record of not needing an ambulance called.

The story, I went out to dinner with my friend Kevin and his fiancee, it is ironic though that these things tend to always happen around my friend Kevin, the last time we did a real dinner together he had to rush and get me OJ. That is another tale, possibly. Anyway, we went to a Thai restaurant, which I enjoy, me forgetting just how extremely slow the service is in the place. Before we left my BS was more or less steady at about 70 so I figured all was good. (Forgetting the combo bolus I had done earlier to handle my cheese rich lunch at 3:00). Anyway, we place the order and waited for our food and waited and waited. We spoke about their upcoming wedding. Beepy chilling in my pocket doing nothing out of the ordinary. Just chilling. No noises. Still no food. Apparently that’s when the combo bolus had hit it’s full peak and I crashed.

I mean big time. Kevin asked me if I was okay. My gruff response yes. He asked how my sugar was and I told him fine, angrily (I warned him what the signs were for the future). After that I don’t remember much. I mean I seem to remember getting my white rice (NOT BROWN bastards). Yet that is all. The next thing I know I am enjoying the company of 4 EMT’s (who were awesome, gotta respect them) in the back of an ambulance. At that point when they were going over me, my sugar was 38.

So they put all of these leads and stuff on me (lost so much arm hair) and basically found a vein and crammed an equivalent of a can of soda into my system. I did recover and felt fine at 138, but was also really nauseous for the rest of the night. The thing is that Beepy did not catch anything, not that I blame him. It was a new sensor and well it was still adjusting to what needed to be done. I blame myself and my own issues with the lows, as well as forgetting the combo bolus. I do blame the restaurant for their slow service and also when my friend tried to get OJ or Soda the waitress did nothing. In the end it is my fault.

The only “bad” thing that really came of this also comes from the inability of my friend to call my dad for help. My phone was locked and he could not get info. My ICE while it was there does nothing since the iPhone does nothing to allow them to get to that emergency information when the phone is locked. I am not happy with that. I need to figure something out, in case someone ever needs to check my phone again. I mean there are apps. out there, but nothing like my Droid had for my ICE contacts being able to be contacted even when the phone was locked.  Maybe one of you has that solution.

This though is just proof why the medic alert is so important if nothing else. Because to my friend who knew, his hands were figuratively tied. It was an accident. Mine but I still kinda pass the blame to the poor service of the restaurant who lost three customers, I don’t blame them, but when someone asks for SODA or OJ in an immediately, well help the person out. I worked in a restaurant I know the demands can be tough when you are busy and service can be slow, I don’t blame the slowness either. Alas, it was a lesson learned, but it ended well in the end, which is what I think is truly important.

*Disclaimer* I am fine, if someone finds this and is all like DUDE don’t blame the restaurant, I really am not. I know it’s my blame and fault, but still… I am sticking to my guns. Speaking of there are truly some days I wish I was not Italian/Hungarian. It would make my life or removal of tape and stickies so much easier. Those damned heart rate leads hurt like a witch and I found another one still on me this morning, after I thought I had gotten rid of them all. Sigh. But truly this is not a normal disclaimer and well if you know me, you should be used to it.


Tremendous Tuesday: Tremendously Thankful

There are many things I am very happy about and thankful for one. One being the DOC, one being my pump, one being Peanut Butter and Chocolate (for obvious reasons). The comments and support you have all said to me last week were great and it brought a smile to my face, to be able to just let some of my thoughts out. I mean, yes this is what usually happens when you blog, but I don’t always hit those “serious” topics. So thanks to you all.

However in keeping with my thankfulness, I need to add Beepy McBeeperson. I would be lost without you.

Yes that is a 6 hour plank while I slept last night. Yes the numbers were between 56 and 70 all night (no 55 and below alarms). I like that. But truly I am glad the bugger is still working. Last night I was playing an awesome game of ultimate (I am truly seeing a pattern to my injuries and broken things that always ends or begins with ultimate). Anyway, in an effort to catch the disc (which I did) on a cold, wet, rainy night, I may or may not have dove into a puddle on my side in which Beepy was hiding in my pocket. So I am so TREMENDOUSLY THANKFUL that he survived and did not die on me. I would have been crushed. So that is why I am thankful today!

Weeks in pondering

So today’s post has been in process for a while. It is something that while is not all that revealing about me, it is more so a warning (maybe) or explanation about some of my quirks. About a month and a half ago I had posted my recent a1c, it was a great number and I was happy with it. I mean it is a great number on the surface, but there is a tale here. Why? Well otherwise the blog post would end right here, duh!!!

This story starts with a conversation with my friend J who is different than my friend Jess. Granted both of them are similar in what was said to me or hinted at about my a1c. First of all Jess blogged about her numbers and struggles with her diabetes. The thing that got me was the comment that she said, mind you not like eewww, why the heck did she say that sort of thing, but just got me. “I’m thrilled for Brian and his A1c, but I don’t think I’ll ever see mine there.  I don’t want it there.  My diabetes is different than Brian’s.  Our A1c goals are not going to be the same.  Your diabetes may vary.” This echoed the comment my friend J and I were having. (She is not a blogger and while she is an active advocate, why throw the name around without asking permission and stuff?) We were talking about her struggles with diabetes and some of her spikes and the like. We spoke about how she was planning on redoing all of her basals with her doctors help of course. We joked about how her appointments are about an hour a pop where as I am in and out in 5 minutes so to speak. We speak openly about our struggles and stuff. She knows my number, she knows more about me than most, but not everything. But she made pretty much the same comment as Jess. “I don’t know how you do it, I am a little envious, I don’t think I can ever get my numbers as low as you do.” You know what? Good for you. Your numbers do not have to be mine. Your numbers can be anything. They are only numbers.

Yes my a1c’s are great. But they do not show the real story. The struggles I have with trying to stay low, not hypo low, and not high. Not wanting to black out and still not have to eat anything. I know exactly why I am completely hypo unaware. It’s my own damn fault. Years ago, let’s say 17 years ago as sometime around now is when I celebrate my diaversary. I can remember my doctor and everyone telling me the horror stories of uncontrolled highs, loss of sight, loss of limb, loss of everything. You know the typical confused misinformation from the passerby and the uncomprehending thought process of a 13 year old kid. MAKE SURE YOUR NUMBERS ARE NOT HIGH OR YOU DIE, is basically the message I got. So I was terrified and like the good little lemming that is what I did.

I carb counted the shit out of those #complexcrabs. Oh wait, no I didn’t I was on that stupid food exchange thing. Still not sure how ketchup is a free food…. Anyway, I did my best, I looked at exchanges, I took insulin when I was supposed to, I ALWAYS made sure my numbers were low. It was fine or so I thought. Dr.’s came and went insulin levels rose (the usage of insulin was never really explained to me, the R and Humalog and Novolog what they really did). I went into auto pilot more or less in college. I never tested, I had tons of strips and lancets (just got rid of most of those things a few months ago). My a1c was fine always in the 5.9 or below range, so why worry about what the actual numbers were. My daily morning dosage of 25 units of NPH and 20 units of Humalog or maybe it was vice versa seemed to be doing the trick…. Yes, what I said was right. The thing is I never knew really what the R and Humalog were doing. Yes they were short term, but I think in my head I thought it was like short term over a period of time not an hour and BOOM, here I am.

I was stupid, but my doctor never corrected anything. My “numbers” in my log book were fine, why would I make those up? My a1c was great so to quote my doctor when we talked about Lantus at one point. “Don’t try to fix what isn’t broke.” Ass…. well no not really. The ass was me. Because I rarely tested and ate happily, I never knew the multiple times I was low during the day (pretty much everyday) because I was functioning. There were no “harmful” side effects. We’ll get to that in a bit. Sometimes I went low, sometimes I caught it. By this time I was working in the bank and periodically around 11, you know when my 25 units of Humalog peaked, my work ethic and efforts tanked. I was low, I didn’t know. I didn’t treat. I just wandered throughout the day lost. I once shorted my drawer $200 due to a low. But thankfully post lunch and thought processes I was able to figure out what the heck I did. However, sometimes I just had issues. And I never said a word to my doctor. Why would I? I mean I was doing okay.

I could have kept this routine up for a long time. I went into the seminary and managed okay. I did the same routine, it only bit me in the ass once or twice with lows and delayed masses and eating. But again nothing was wrong…. or so I thought. I survived, it was good. Well we can only chance things for so long. I mean 13 years without any really major issues. Well I did end up in the hospital once in college because of Hypoglycemia and the paramedics and my roommate bailed me out a few times. But that was college, I didn’t eat enough food.

Did I mention I wasn’t testing. LIKE EVER. Like in the morning when I drove after shooting up and barely eating. Did I mention that when I am low, even when I don’t know it and feel the urge that I should be eating something, I didn’t. Maybe you know where this story is going with a buildup like this. It was early November of 2009. The seminary community had a morning mass at a local church. It was duty to get the supplies there to setup for the mass. That was easy. That was done. Mass happened. Easy…. Done. Cleaned up. Easy…. done. Missed the food. Oh that’s okay (they had bagels, but I don’t eat those things, even when I might be low and finicky about food). I had a 12 minute car ride back to the seminary. I got into the car with another seminarian and started driving. I mean I knew where I was going, but I missed a turn. After that, I wish I could say what happened. I remember certain parts of the car ride. Driving around lost. I remember trying to get back to where I needed to go. After that I have no idea. Apparently at some point I hit a curb and sign. I flattened both the tires on my passenger side and took the mirror off. Yet I don’t remember that. What I remember is coming alert as a police officer is yelling at me. I can’t blame him, for all intensive purposes, I was a drunk driver. Thankfully, I was able to get out that I was a diabetic. Ambulances were called, car towed, my poor passenger was terrified. He never really told me what happened and damned if I know either. I have flashes but nothing makes sense.

That day, the following day, every day after I started to think about things and realized how lucky I was to not be dead. How lucky I was no one was hurt, especially my passenger. How lucky I was that …. I was stupid. I was an idiot. I was not taking care of myself at all. It was soon there after that a friend of mine introduced me to his friend J, who has had type one since she was 9 or 6. Way younger than me. J had a pump and was someone that I connected with. We talked off and on about different things. Never really d-related but those questions were always in my head. I now had person to talk to. It was at that time I found Juvenation as well, when it was still in its infancy. That was a good place for me to talk, make friends Kim, C, and Jess. I was able to open up. I was able to move on. I was able to learn from my stupidity over the past 13 years.

Also though I started to make changes. I knew something had to be done. I was a little more alert of my testing, but also making sure all things were functioning when I was out and about. I started to wonder about pumps and cgm’s and all of this “new” technology that I was hearing about. (I know it’s not new, but well yeah.) I asked my friend J so many questions about her pump, what was needed, and so on and so forth. I made the decision to switch, for a fresh start. My then Doctor was leaving the practice to go off and teach so I had to meet with a new Endocrinologist. I can remember walking into the office that day and talking about the pump, what I wanted/needed to do. I didn’t talk to her about my past, because that was behind me. I was all about my future, my present, what I needed to do so that what happened will not happen again.

My doctor was great. We did everything that was necessary. I had meet ups with the nurse practitioner about pumps and what was out there. We filled out the paperwork, got the insurance approval, etc…. I went onto a pump. I learned about #complexcrabs and crabs in general. I learned about Basal insulin and Bolus. I learned why 25 f-ing units of Humalog in the morning was killing me and giving me lows. I know why I am hypo unaware. Yet I still terrified of those high’s and I still try my hardest to not let them happen or attack me. 17 years of misguided information is hard to undo. I want to stay below 130 when I can. I hate it when I am not. I want to be at 99 as much as possible, not 100. I still go low, yes because I may swag or over bolus to get below my magic number.

Years of brainwashing are hard to undo. But it is something that I am working on. I have Blue my pump. I have Beepy McBeeprson who helps me out. Sometimes I may still ignore them. Sometimes I may go low. Sometimes I may be wandering around Disney at 47 and be 98% with it. Yet, I am more alert. I test often. I change my lancet more…. HAHAHA. No seriously we need to change our lancets more. I am not perfect. Yes my 5.5 a1c is awesome. It is great. Yet it does not tell the whole story of who I am. There are many struggles I still face. Mental blocks I need to fix and correct. I am getting there though. Our Diabetes may vary. Mine definitely does. I am not perfect, I am screwed up big time. I am grateful that I have managed to keep myself alive. Going low is just as bad as being high. The consequences might not be lost vision, limbs, or anything like that. But loss of life, going low at night, that is not the way either.

I urge you to do what is right. If you are stuck in a rut seek help. Talk to someone, anyone. Send messages, ask questions. If you are confused if your dosage of insulin is made up by you for so many years. Talk to your doctor. We can do many things. But in this seek help. Find that support you need. Reach out, the DOC myself are here to help you. We can listen and try. We can feed you pumpkin pie (only when low).

*Disclaimer* I feel I should post a small clarification not really a disclaimer. Make sure you know what your numbers are while driving. Don’t be stupid about it. Don’t take risks or chances. You need to do what is right, what is healthy, but what is not stupid. If you are low DON’T drive. Luck won’t get you from point a to point b all the time. Be smart. TEST!!

Wordless Wednesday: Confuzzled

Well not really confuzzled or confused. Just more being inquisitive. But you do get two pictures to think on.

I have this picture but no clue on which way I should hang it. Any suggestions?

This is just more for a speculative nature?

How are these mints? See definition below.

I just don’t get how something fruit punch flavored is considered a mint. says a mint is: “a soft or hard confection, often shaped like a wafer, that is usually flavored with peppermint  and often served after lunch or dinner.” They are good, but I don’t use them for their “minty” purpose. I just eat. Just saying….

Tremendous Tuesday: 100

So people get so excited about seeing the hundie BS. For those who are lost on the lingo. The perfect storm of Blood Sugar 100. I can’t seem to get it. My meter will give me anything and everything else. I have looked at the history for the past few weeks. 99, 87, 103, 125, 152, 208, 34, 47… The numbers go on and on and there is no bloody (haha, get it??) 100. So today is my 100th blog post. Which is awesome. Who would have thought that when I started this blog last February, that I would ever a.) keep this up, b.) do anything real with it, c.) keep this up (wait did I say that already?)

Hell I wasn’t even sure I could do it, but somehow I have. Things have been nice, they have been fun. I have learned a few things about blogging. Such as paragraphs, which I have always had, but someone did not believe me. I have gotten better at linking to other people. (Granted I forget to warn them they have been mentioned and linked to…. Oops.) But you get the gist.

Today I was going to celebrate and make this an awesome post, and showcase the number 100 from my meter, from Beepy McBeeperson. From something. Yet I failed. I can apparently do many things. I can bolus for pizza now (still sorting out rice), I have managed my gym routine better (when I go), and yet I can’t hit my perfect storm. Well not my perfect storm. I kinda have a thing for the number 99, but 100 is what people love to post about. Well sorry there is no awesome 100 to show you today. I mean if you want the 123 (I love that one too) from earlier today I could showcase that awesomeness, but no 100. No hundie not to be confused with undie (Kerri I am talking to you, and you know why!) For everyone else don’t go dirty on that comment leave it to herself to have a field day with that.

So today’s tremendous, today’s awesome is my 100th blog post. 101 will be a cool picture of a picture, 102 will be a story that I have been sitting on. I thought that would be the bam 100, but well today is tremendous and the story is great, but is not the definition of the day. Wow that was a weird downer in my head, sorry if it seemed like it to you. Anyway, I hope your day was as tremendous as mine was, cause that would be awesome to hear. If not keep looking for the joy you need for the day.

Peace, love, unicorns, and sugar free gum!!!

Snappy New Year

Well, come on what were you expecting from me? Did you think I would just start my first post of the new year off with a “Hello” or “Happy New Year” or “Tada”? Granted the Tada reminds me of a story, but not for today. Someone is going to have to remember to ask me about it at some point, it is a good story.

What with it being a snappy new year, lets be honest. I hate the new year, I hate the jokes, I hate the parties, frankly getting guilted into going to the family events, the friend parties, the New Years crap pisses me off. It’s days like that, that make me regret my decision to not become a cloistered monk, silently contemplating things. Granted I have been told, when I do contemplate it is usually about taking over the world or something like that. (Just kidding, I really have no desire or intention of doing that).

I wouldn’t trust me either. It’s all good though, I swear I am a good person. Well, I am a nice person. Well, I am me. But yeah, back to the New Years thing.

I am a boring person. Do I do fun stuff, yes. I run, I play Ultimate Frisbee, I read, I blog. BORING. But I am so unbelievably content in doing these things, I am not going to complain. I am not a big fan of large crowds of people, seems odd with my line of work, but when people are invading my bubble, I sometimes have issues. You throw booze into the mix and I become very uncomfortable. Yet, here I am getting dragged to these things, with family, friends, and food. And of course we all know, just for chips and pringles, I am going to need to sample ALL or MOST of said food.

What to do, what to do? I mean I have Beepy McBeeperson to catch me when I fall or rise. I have my pump fully loaded. I AM GOOD TO GO. So what to do? Set a tamp basal and graze? Or just blind bolus? Well, seeing as how I could always loose my eyesight at some point (I don’ think I will but…) I blind bolus it. But more so I do it conservatively. You know, none of the chicken wing shit, I am conservative. Hahahaha! Damn, sorry about that. Where was I now? Oh yes, conservative blind bolusing, (if you are low or drunk don’t try to say it, you may lose your tongue). Did I succeed?


Your kidding right? I mean it always worked out in the end, but I was coasting all over the place. So, not only am I at a party, I am surrounded by people who have had some lovely libation, and…. AND I am low and pissed, high and pissed, UP and DOWN. WHY DO I DO THIS?

Is it because I am obligated? No, but I can’t really say no. Is it because I am a glutton for punishment? No, not at all. 

It is just because I kinda have to do these things. I try my best to be happy and not snappy, but I fail. I try to keep flatlined, planked, or whatever, but that is not going to help. So I do the only thing I can do, deal with it and my moods and think of funny things.

Here’s one for you…..

*REAL DISCLAIMER by clicking on this link, you must have a sense of humor, if it is dirty even better. You realize I almost peed my pants last night reading this. That I had to stop reading it, because as I was laughing my already pained shoulder was even worse. S and J were in tears, well more S than J as I shared it with them as well. You also, must acknowledge that you are older than 13 and you get why some of this humor is so great, especially 4, 6, 8, 15, and 18, 22, and 23 damn near killed me. I was making noises of pain. But yeah, you need to be older to understand this humor.

I almost made another disclaimer, but I will save that for the really boring posts. Peace.