So, I went to the endocrinologist last week. He still loves me, thinks my attitude of "I want more beta cells and I don't care what I have to do to get them" is great. My a1c is still 6.3.
It's a nice rhyming number. (A1C! 6.3! There's a cheer in there somewhere.)
My LDL is also down to the 150's, so that's better, but we're still treating it. HDL still high, so that's good.
He also did some kind of sensitivity test, and my cardiac risk is low. I'm not sure what the test is called, because they DIDN'T SEND ME A COPY OF MY RESULTS, even though I ask every time.
I swear that nurse/tech/whatever her title is doesn't like me. I also left without a follow up appointment. It was weird.
"OK, I think I need to make an appointment for 3 or 6 months out."
"He didn't say. When you get your lab work then he'll tell you."
"It's never worked like that before. Can I just make an appointment now?"
"No."
OK, I'll leave now.
So, the real question I had for my doc was regarding my Dexcom. CGM. The Golden Ticket. WHY didn't I get one last time? Denied? What can I do now?
"Huh, I never heard back. Let me check on that."
Then he said he could trial me for a week, but they one they have cost him $800 out of his own pocket, and it wasn't charged, and I would have to BRING IT BACK because it cost him so much money, and I would have to be careful, and the nurse that usually educates on it isn't here, and it was pretty clear he didn't want to hand it over.
And...as it turns out, they never sent the request. That could be why I didn't get one. If my insurance or the Dexcom people don't know I want one, they don't magically send one out randomly. Funny how that works. So this time I stayed there until the request was faxed.
Then I went to lunch with my husband, after being scolded for wanting follow up care.
At lunch the Dexcom people called me. YES. They aren't in-network, but they know people who are, they will be calling me in the next couple of days.
Yada yada yada.....a bunch of phone calls and nagging of my doctor's office later.....IT'S HERE. TODAY. I AM JUMPING UP AND DOWN.
Did I mention that my deductible is met and it didn't cost me anything? 2 weeks later, that would have been quite the different story.
Did I also mention I don't have a clue as to what I'm doing? I guess I will be calling tomorrow to go meet with the nurse to have her show me what to do. While there, I'm going to schedule a follow up appt. You know, if they let me.
"Cause I've got a Golden Ticket...."
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Saturday, December 3, 2011
How Was Your Thanksgiving?
Diabetes can make Thanksgiving challenging. Which is surprising, you know, because it makes everything else SO EASY.
Anyway, this year we went over to a friend's house, which was lovely, because then I didn't have to clean. I still had to cook some stuffing, but that's OK, because it's one thing I can cook, and it's divine. Really.
Well, I bolused and ate the main meal. (and by "bolused" I mean "guessed completely" because I wasn't about to ask people exactly how much sugar they put in their yams and apples. Turns out: a lot).
An hour later they brought out the pie. Often I skip the desserts completely, because the GUESSING! Oh, the GUESSING, which leads to the SWINGING, which leads to the MIGRAINES, and leads to ALL CAPS, and my husband has to put up with my WHINING. But this is Thanksgiving and pie is required. The end. Well, I checked my sugars and saw slightly over 200. Oy. I guess the mealtime bolus was what we call "not great."
A GOOD diabetic would have waited until her sugars came down, or politely declined. A BAD diabetic would have just bolused more and attacked the pumpkin chiffon pie.
And as I ate piles of sugar with a starting bg of 204, I thought "May God have mercy on my kidneys." And He did. Because an hour later, I was 103, and the sugars stayed stable the rest of the day. But for the record, I have never taken more insulin in one day than I did this year on turkey day for one meal.
Pie. It's what helps. Who knew? How was your day?
Anyway, this year we went over to a friend's house, which was lovely, because then I didn't have to clean. I still had to cook some stuffing, but that's OK, because it's one thing I can cook, and it's divine. Really.
Well, I bolused and ate the main meal. (and by "bolused" I mean "guessed completely" because I wasn't about to ask people exactly how much sugar they put in their yams and apples. Turns out: a lot).
An hour later they brought out the pie. Often I skip the desserts completely, because the GUESSING! Oh, the GUESSING, which leads to the SWINGING, which leads to the MIGRAINES, and leads to ALL CAPS, and my husband has to put up with my WHINING. But this is Thanksgiving and pie is required. The end. Well, I checked my sugars and saw slightly over 200. Oy. I guess the mealtime bolus was what we call "not great."
A GOOD diabetic would have waited until her sugars came down, or politely declined. A BAD diabetic would have just bolused more and attacked the pumpkin chiffon pie.
And as I ate piles of sugar with a starting bg of 204, I thought "May God have mercy on my kidneys." And He did. Because an hour later, I was 103, and the sugars stayed stable the rest of the day. But for the record, I have never taken more insulin in one day than I did this year on turkey day for one meal.
Pie. It's what helps. Who knew? How was your day?
Thursday, November 3, 2011
November!
It is National Diabetes Month.
It is also the month of Thanksgiving, thereby making it National Gratitude Month.
So --- I should be grateful for my diabetes.
Um. not quite there yet. If it saves me in a war, then we will talk. If it gets me a job that in turn pays for the insanely expensive medicine and equipment, I'm good. If I get paid lots of money for telling people how awesome it is, well, then, gratitude will pour forth. At the moment, I'm not quite there yet.
(Seriously, it did save this guy in a war. He was in Vietnam, and he went into DKA, and when the VietCong came upon his unit, they thought he was dead and didn't kill him. That's how he was diagnosed. I'm not even kidding about that - he spoke at a diabetic conference about it.)
But apparently, we are all supposed to wear blue every Friday in November to promote National Diabetes Month. I'm cool with that.
Somebody needs to explain this to me.
HOW is wearing blue going to raise money/awareness for anything? I mean, it's not like I answer the door to the UPS guy, and he's all "Wow, what's with the blue shirt, and I'm all "It's for diabetes" and he's all "I'm going to donate RIGHT NOW." I don't foresee conversations like that happening. Maybe I'm just being pessimistic. Because that could TOTALLY happen. Maybe if I was wearing a pin or something?
It's not like blue is that rare a color. But then, if you picked a rare color, nobody would wear it (everybody wear chartreuse to celebrate!). Also, I think it's the color for autism awareness. But I like blue, so I'll wear it on Fridays, and it'll be for a PURPOSE.
It's also National Epilepsy Month. For that one, we are supposed to wear purple. I guess we'll all just look like a giant bruise this month. Groovy.
It is also the month of Thanksgiving, thereby making it National Gratitude Month.
So --- I should be grateful for my diabetes.
Um. not quite there yet. If it saves me in a war, then we will talk. If it gets me a job that in turn pays for the insanely expensive medicine and equipment, I'm good. If I get paid lots of money for telling people how awesome it is, well, then, gratitude will pour forth. At the moment, I'm not quite there yet.
(Seriously, it did save this guy in a war. He was in Vietnam, and he went into DKA, and when the VietCong came upon his unit, they thought he was dead and didn't kill him. That's how he was diagnosed. I'm not even kidding about that - he spoke at a diabetic conference about it.)
But apparently, we are all supposed to wear blue every Friday in November to promote National Diabetes Month. I'm cool with that.
Somebody needs to explain this to me.
HOW is wearing blue going to raise money/awareness for anything? I mean, it's not like I answer the door to the UPS guy, and he's all "Wow, what's with the blue shirt, and I'm all "It's for diabetes" and he's all "I'm going to donate RIGHT NOW." I don't foresee conversations like that happening. Maybe I'm just being pessimistic. Because that could TOTALLY happen. Maybe if I was wearing a pin or something?
It's not like blue is that rare a color. But then, if you picked a rare color, nobody would wear it (everybody wear chartreuse to celebrate!). Also, I think it's the color for autism awareness. But I like blue, so I'll wear it on Fridays, and it'll be for a PURPOSE.
It's also National Epilepsy Month. For that one, we are supposed to wear purple. I guess we'll all just look like a giant bruise this month. Groovy.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
What do you mean I can't quit? That's just RUDE.
Ah, the lows. The waking up at 33. The going from 123 to 38 in half an hour, with no visible reason. (Brushing my teeth couldn't have dropped my sugars THAT much, right?) The 220 in the middle of the night, only to be corrected and then drop back to 38.
These things: They are not fun. (Hello, captain obvious.)
Dear Diabetes: I quit.
Dear Heidi: I don't mean to be rude, but Nope. You can't. Carry on. I'll be here.
Everything else I can quit! I've quit a couple of jobs in my life, and if I wanted to, I could quit my marriage, my kids, my church, my hair stylist - I could drop my dog off at the humane society, I could put my house up for sale, or I could walk away from it and ignore the mortgage, I can quit pretty much anything I want to, and the consequences would range from minor to truly life-altering. (I mean, if I quit my hairstylist, I would look baaaaad.) But none of them would be fatal. I don't want to quit any of those things, and I won't, but I love that the OPTION is there. I CHOOSE to stay in my house, my marriage, my religion, and keep that stupid dog, and I like that I know that's why I'm doing it. I like options.
Diabetes gives me very few options. Oh sure, there are some. Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi, for one. (And why anyone even MAKES Diet Pepsi, I have yet to understand.) Pumps vs. pens vs. needles. Humalog vs. Novolog. Sooooo many ways to treat. But in reality, these are fake options. The only real option is to PAY ATTENTION or DIE. Yippee-kie-ay.
No quitting. Ever. Not even if you whine.
So anyway, I forced my way into my endo's office to show off my highs and lows, and he switched me from Lantus to Levemir, and lowered the dose a tad. He ordered me a Dexcom, which he says is the "greatest thing for a diabetic since insulin." I WANT IT. I WANT IT A LOT. I know I would obsess over it constantly, but I've noticed that obsessing is encouraged with this disease. It also makes you crazy, but hey, sanity is overrated.
I may end up in the loony bin, but my a1c will be awesome.
We are waiting to see what the insurance says, since, you know, I've never passed out or spent quality time in the ER from my lows or anything, so I might not be the best candidate. You don't get the really GOOD diabetes treatment options until your disease is out of control. Good control is punished, and yet, it's clearly the best option.
I will stop saying options. It's sounding weird to me now. You know how words do that when you say them a lot? Options.....ooooooptiiionnns.....
For some reason, 38 is the number I've been seeing so much. Maybe the universe is using diabetes to send me a message and give me the lottery numbers or something. After all, if you can't explain the numbers, it must be a message from the cosmos, right? Every time I get a reading I don't get, (205? But I thought I was going LOW!) I'm going to take it as a numerology message. Ok, no. No, I'm not.
Also, I've been known to mildly swear at waitresses when they "Is Diet Pepsi OK?" Hell No, No it's not. Sorry about that yesterday, lady. It was a bad day.
These things: They are not fun. (Hello, captain obvious.)
Dear Diabetes: I quit.
Dear Heidi: I don't mean to be rude, but Nope. You can't. Carry on. I'll be here.
Everything else I can quit! I've quit a couple of jobs in my life, and if I wanted to, I could quit my marriage, my kids, my church, my hair stylist - I could drop my dog off at the humane society, I could put my house up for sale, or I could walk away from it and ignore the mortgage, I can quit pretty much anything I want to, and the consequences would range from minor to truly life-altering. (I mean, if I quit my hairstylist, I would look baaaaad.) But none of them would be fatal. I don't want to quit any of those things, and I won't, but I love that the OPTION is there. I CHOOSE to stay in my house, my marriage, my religion, and keep that stupid dog, and I like that I know that's why I'm doing it. I like options.
Diabetes gives me very few options. Oh sure, there are some. Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi, for one. (And why anyone even MAKES Diet Pepsi, I have yet to understand.) Pumps vs. pens vs. needles. Humalog vs. Novolog. Sooooo many ways to treat. But in reality, these are fake options. The only real option is to PAY ATTENTION or DIE. Yippee-kie-ay.
No quitting. Ever. Not even if you whine.
So anyway, I forced my way into my endo's office to show off my highs and lows, and he switched me from Lantus to Levemir, and lowered the dose a tad. He ordered me a Dexcom, which he says is the "greatest thing for a diabetic since insulin." I WANT IT. I WANT IT A LOT. I know I would obsess over it constantly, but I've noticed that obsessing is encouraged with this disease. It also makes you crazy, but hey, sanity is overrated.
I may end up in the loony bin, but my a1c will be awesome.
We are waiting to see what the insurance says, since, you know, I've never passed out or spent quality time in the ER from my lows or anything, so I might not be the best candidate. You don't get the really GOOD diabetes treatment options until your disease is out of control. Good control is punished, and yet, it's clearly the best option.
I will stop saying options. It's sounding weird to me now. You know how words do that when you say them a lot? Options.....ooooooptiiionnns.....
For some reason, 38 is the number I've been seeing so much. Maybe the universe is using diabetes to send me a message and give me the lottery numbers or something. After all, if you can't explain the numbers, it must be a message from the cosmos, right? Every time I get a reading I don't get, (205? But I thought I was going LOW!) I'm going to take it as a numerology message. Ok, no. No, I'm not.
Also, I've been known to mildly swear at waitresses when they "Is Diet Pepsi OK?" Hell No, No it's not. Sorry about that yesterday, lady. It was a bad day.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Let's Just Hope the Insulin's Still Good, Yes? Also, Warthogs.
So, I went low last week. The only thing I could think of is maybe it was due to a "training run" I did for a 5K that my daughter is doing, and I'm supposed to do it with her. I'm still not 100% sure I will participate in it - running completely baffles me. If there is anything more dull than putting one foot in front of the other for long periods of time, I don't know what it is. Possibly studying the brain chemistry of warthogs. That seems like it would be fairly boring.
OK, so last night I had another "training run" and let me tell you, training with super nice people who are still 1000 times better than you at running is not fun. It's kind of humiliating, but hey, what's life without a little humiliation? (Answer: fun.) (Note: I know these people are not thinking less of me. They know I'm a beginner. It's still mortifying.) I was super freaked out about going low, though, so I cut my bolus in half before eating a small dinner, and then ate a larger meal afterwards.
Of course, it was then that I nothiced the needles I stuck in my kit were gone, so it's highly possible that a few unused insulin needles fell out of my kit on the run, and now the people in that neighborhood are going to think heroin addicts are abundant in their streets, and leaving their crap everywhere. Sorry, peeps.
Finger prick at 2 a.m. : 256. Well, if the mission was "not going low" then I get a gold star. Platinum. I should probably be more specific in my mission statements.
In other news: Today begins the use of some insulin that showed up mail order and sat on my porch for a day and a half in the scorching sun while I was gone for the weekend. I love insurance companies and the hoops they make you jump through to get your meds paid for. They're so awesome and willing to work with you too. (What do you mean you don't want Humalog? Don't you know it's CHEAPER!?)
So we shall see if the boluses work, (bolusi? bolus's? How do you pluralize this word?) or if I have to pay out of pocket for insulin so I don't, you know, die. Did I mention it was 3 month's supply of both Lantus and Novolog? (I still have an effective bottle of Lantus. I don't know why I have more Lantus. I probably dropped a Novolog or something).
The thought of paying out of pocket for 6 bottles of insulin that are all over 100 bucks each, when I already met my $4000 deductible makes me want to jump for joy over how much I must be helping the economy. Think of the jobs I'm saving!!!!
Yes, I'm grateful I have insurance. Can you get them to pay if the mail order destroyed your stuff? Because I can't seem to.
OK, so last night I had another "training run" and let me tell you, training with super nice people who are still 1000 times better than you at running is not fun. It's kind of humiliating, but hey, what's life without a little humiliation? (Answer: fun.) (Note: I know these people are not thinking less of me. They know I'm a beginner. It's still mortifying.) I was super freaked out about going low, though, so I cut my bolus in half before eating a small dinner, and then ate a larger meal afterwards.
Of course, it was then that I nothiced the needles I stuck in my kit were gone, so it's highly possible that a few unused insulin needles fell out of my kit on the run, and now the people in that neighborhood are going to think heroin addicts are abundant in their streets, and leaving their crap everywhere. Sorry, peeps.
Finger prick at 2 a.m. : 256. Well, if the mission was "not going low" then I get a gold star. Platinum. I should probably be more specific in my mission statements.
In other news: Today begins the use of some insulin that showed up mail order and sat on my porch for a day and a half in the scorching sun while I was gone for the weekend. I love insurance companies and the hoops they make you jump through to get your meds paid for. They're so awesome and willing to work with you too. (What do you mean you don't want Humalog? Don't you know it's CHEAPER!?)
So we shall see if the boluses work, (bolusi? bolus's? How do you pluralize this word?) or if I have to pay out of pocket for insulin so I don't, you know, die. Did I mention it was 3 month's supply of both Lantus and Novolog? (I still have an effective bottle of Lantus. I don't know why I have more Lantus. I probably dropped a Novolog or something).
The thought of paying out of pocket for 6 bottles of insulin that are all over 100 bucks each, when I already met my $4000 deductible makes me want to jump for joy over how much I must be helping the economy. Think of the jobs I'm saving!!!!
Yes, I'm grateful I have insurance. Can you get them to pay if the mail order destroyed your stuff? Because I can't seem to.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
My Day So Far
I woke up this morning to the sound of my cell phone. I grabbed it, talked to my parents briefly, and then decided it was time to get up anyway, since it was only about 15 minutes before I usually get up. Then my sister called, we chatted, and I dosed my Lantus at my usual time. (I split my dose between morning and night. I know it's unusual, but it works for me. Usually.)
What? You don't care that my sister called? That's superfluous information? Yeah, you're right. Too bad.
I went onto the computer, and hit facebook. I admit I spend way too much time there. As I was trying to read a status update complaining about the new interface, I noticed I was having a hard time seeing it. It wasn't going blurry exactly, I just couldn't seem to focus on it for some reason, and the world started heading into a tunnel. I decided to check my sugars.
Yep. 33. I went "whoah, that's low" and grabbed 2 Starbursts, which I keep in my testing kit with my meter. I actually tapped an update onto fb about it, thinking I should let somebody know. Then I lay down, and stared at the ceiling as the sweat drenched me. I hate the sweat.
As my heart attempted to leap out of my chest, I thought "I am going to pass out, and I don't care." And then the next thought slooooooowly formed. "I am going to pass out. I should prevent that. I had candy. Need juice." And so I forced myself up and to the kitchen and poured myself whatever that combo was - orange/mango/pineapple/strawberry/every- fruit-ever-picked juice. And then I grabbed some Crunch Berries - just a handful.
And then I realized again - I LOVE Crunch Berries. It's a very tasty cereal.
And then I checked again, kind of thinking - I might be able to justify a whole bowl of Cap'n Crunch's chemicals. 89. And while it ruled out the ceral, I love that number. It is my new best friend. 5 minutes later it was 110. Then I ate breakfast. Who knows what bolus I should have used, I'm still not completely sure how high the rebound is going to go.
I haven't showered yet, but I'm thinking about it.
Good morning to me. Hey - it can only get better from here, right? RIGHT?
What? You don't care that my sister called? That's superfluous information? Yeah, you're right. Too bad.
I went onto the computer, and hit facebook. I admit I spend way too much time there. As I was trying to read a status update complaining about the new interface, I noticed I was having a hard time seeing it. It wasn't going blurry exactly, I just couldn't seem to focus on it for some reason, and the world started heading into a tunnel. I decided to check my sugars.
Yep. 33. I went "whoah, that's low" and grabbed 2 Starbursts, which I keep in my testing kit with my meter. I actually tapped an update onto fb about it, thinking I should let somebody know. Then I lay down, and stared at the ceiling as the sweat drenched me. I hate the sweat.
As my heart attempted to leap out of my chest, I thought "I am going to pass out, and I don't care." And then the next thought slooooooowly formed. "I am going to pass out. I should prevent that. I had candy. Need juice." And so I forced myself up and to the kitchen and poured myself whatever that combo was - orange/mango/pineapple/strawberry/every- fruit-ever-picked juice. And then I grabbed some Crunch Berries - just a handful.
And then I realized again - I LOVE Crunch Berries. It's a very tasty cereal.
And then I checked again, kind of thinking - I might be able to justify a whole bowl of Cap'n Crunch's chemicals. 89. And while it ruled out the ceral, I love that number. It is my new best friend. 5 minutes later it was 110. Then I ate breakfast. Who knows what bolus I should have used, I'm still not completely sure how high the rebound is going to go.
I haven't showered yet, but I'm thinking about it.
Good morning to me. Hey - it can only get better from here, right? RIGHT?
Friday, September 16, 2011
30 things about invisibility, er, illness.
It is "National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week." And that, my friends, is a mouthful. Holy crap - try saying that 10 times fast.
OK, then. What is a "visible" illness, exactly? I'm trying to think of one - down syndrome is visible, but it's not an "illness" or a "disease", it's an extra chromosome. I thought of my niece with a spinal cord injury, but that's an injury - she's not sick. I saw a show on Discovery about this woman with a giant tumor that weighed over 100 pounds - it was bigger than she was. Nasty. OK, let's celebrate that I don't have that! Or leprosy! Or ebola! Because those would suck. Hmmmm....maybe ALS? That's pretty visible, I guess.
Yes, I get very caught up in semantics.
If you have a visible illness that I didn't think of, and are now mad at me, I'm sorry.
OK, so it's a meme! Which is a strange word that I'm not entirely sure how to pronounce. But that's what it's called, so here goes.
"30 Things About My Chronic Illness" meme:
1. The illness I am living with is: Type 1 Diabetes.
2. I was diagnosed in the year: 2009
3. But I had symptoms since: late 2008.
4. The biggest adjustment I've had to make is: Hard question. Pretty much everything, and yet, not everything. Boy howdy, do I make sense. Food, exercise, and activities have had to change, but the basic who I am hasn't. Yes?
5. Most people assume: It's exactly the same as Type 2.
6. The hardest part about mornings are: Eating breakfast. I never did do it before, and now I am forced to fairly soon after I wake up. It's not really "hard", but it's a nuisance.
7. My favorite medical TV show is: Current one - House, the show about a brilliant doctor who misdiagnosis his patients 3 times before getting the right diagnosis, almost killing them in the process. Former one - Scrubs. Hilarious. Those are really the only 2 medical shows I've watched.
8. A gadget I couldn't live without: My testing kit. It is with me, always. Like God, only in small, gadgetry form.
9. The hardest part about nights are: wondering what my sugars will do that night, and hoping that my body wakes me up if I go hypo.
10. Each day I take: 5 shots, 1 pill, and 2 vitamins. Minimum, assuming the sugars don't need correction.
11. Regarding alternative treatments: If you find one that works for you, great. But sometimes they are really dangerous, and I get angry at the scams. But I love massage, relaxation techniques, and my chiropractor. Just don't ask me to drink saltwater and tell me it'll cure me.
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose Well, since the only visible illnesses I can think of are horrific ones, let's go invisible.
13. Regarding working and career: I've been home with my kids for a long time. I want to re-enter the work force now, but apparently job-searching at 36 and job searching at 21 are two very different things. Diabetes won't stop me from working, though.
14. People would be surprised to know: That I'm a one-eyed, one-eared, giant purple people eater.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: That I have to think about this ALL THE STINKING TIME. It regulates what and when I eat, as well as what and when I exercise, and I have to plan everything around it.
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness but I did was: I don't know. Eat birthday cake?
17. The commercials about my illness: make me hate Wilfred Brimley. Also they are always on during the day and are geared to the elderly so they make me feel old.
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: I miss the general freedom of being able to pop things into my mouth without thinking about the carb content, or eating whenever I want to without worrying about insulin stacking, or hypos, or highs, or my exercise schedule, or the myriad of other things. Freedom, I miss you.
19. It was really hard to have to give up: Dr. Pepper.
20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: Yoga. I love it, it's an exercise that doesn't mess with my sugars, and I never thought I could get this strong or flexible, even though I still have a lot of room for improvement.
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again, I would: Sleep in, have a Dr. Pepper for breakfast, swim without worrying that I'll pass out in the pool, and then eat some more sugary crap. Hey, I just have one day, right?
22. My illness has taught me:Everything in the body is connected. I know, obvious, right? But it's really brought home how every little thing you do affects the entire body. You can't just treat the foot without having it affect the brain, and vice versa. It's ALL connected, and always will be. Treat the person first. Also, moderation is crucial, as too much insulin or sugar will do horrible things to you, and this has become a metaphor for me for other aspects of my life. Live within reasonable boundaries, but not horribly constricting ones. Also, cocoa roast almonds are awesome. Atkins makes some peanut butter cups that taste just like Reese's, and some coconut bars that taste just like Mounds. I never would have known about them, and they make me so happy.
23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: My aunt so-and-so had that. She died a horrible death. Gee, thanks.
24. But I love it when people: Listen, and get a little educated, and try to understand.
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote, that gets me through tough times is: Be still and know that I am God. I love this song from Scrubs. Also, the poo one.
26. When someone is diagnosed I'd like to tell them: You are not alone. You can do this. And I would tell them about those Atkins bars, and carb smart ice cream mixed with diet root beer. Delish.
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: How much blood sugar affects my mood.
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn't feeling well was: Babysit my kids.
29. I'm involved with Invisible Illness week because: It's a good thing.
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Glad you stopped by.
OK, then. What is a "visible" illness, exactly? I'm trying to think of one - down syndrome is visible, but it's not an "illness" or a "disease", it's an extra chromosome. I thought of my niece with a spinal cord injury, but that's an injury - she's not sick. I saw a show on Discovery about this woman with a giant tumor that weighed over 100 pounds - it was bigger than she was. Nasty. OK, let's celebrate that I don't have that! Or leprosy! Or ebola! Because those would suck. Hmmmm....maybe ALS? That's pretty visible, I guess.
Yes, I get very caught up in semantics.
If you have a visible illness that I didn't think of, and are now mad at me, I'm sorry.
OK, so it's a meme! Which is a strange word that I'm not entirely sure how to pronounce. But that's what it's called, so here goes.
"30 Things About My Chronic Illness" meme:
1. The illness I am living with is: Type 1 Diabetes.
2. I was diagnosed in the year: 2009
3. But I had symptoms since: late 2008.
4. The biggest adjustment I've had to make is: Hard question. Pretty much everything, and yet, not everything. Boy howdy, do I make sense. Food, exercise, and activities have had to change, but the basic who I am hasn't. Yes?
5. Most people assume: It's exactly the same as Type 2.
6. The hardest part about mornings are: Eating breakfast. I never did do it before, and now I am forced to fairly soon after I wake up. It's not really "hard", but it's a nuisance.
7. My favorite medical TV show is: Current one - House, the show about a brilliant doctor who misdiagnosis his patients 3 times before getting the right diagnosis, almost killing them in the process. Former one - Scrubs. Hilarious. Those are really the only 2 medical shows I've watched.
8. A gadget I couldn't live without: My testing kit. It is with me, always. Like God, only in small, gadgetry form.
9. The hardest part about nights are: wondering what my sugars will do that night, and hoping that my body wakes me up if I go hypo.
10. Each day I take: 5 shots, 1 pill, and 2 vitamins. Minimum, assuming the sugars don't need correction.
11. Regarding alternative treatments: If you find one that works for you, great. But sometimes they are really dangerous, and I get angry at the scams. But I love massage, relaxation techniques, and my chiropractor. Just don't ask me to drink saltwater and tell me it'll cure me.
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose Well, since the only visible illnesses I can think of are horrific ones, let's go invisible.
13. Regarding working and career: I've been home with my kids for a long time. I want to re-enter the work force now, but apparently job-searching at 36 and job searching at 21 are two very different things. Diabetes won't stop me from working, though.
14. People would be surprised to know: That I'm a one-eyed, one-eared, giant purple people eater.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: That I have to think about this ALL THE STINKING TIME. It regulates what and when I eat, as well as what and when I exercise, and I have to plan everything around it.
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness but I did was: I don't know. Eat birthday cake?
17. The commercials about my illness: make me hate Wilfred Brimley. Also they are always on during the day and are geared to the elderly so they make me feel old.
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: I miss the general freedom of being able to pop things into my mouth without thinking about the carb content, or eating whenever I want to without worrying about insulin stacking, or hypos, or highs, or my exercise schedule, or the myriad of other things. Freedom, I miss you.
19. It was really hard to have to give up: Dr. Pepper.
20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: Yoga. I love it, it's an exercise that doesn't mess with my sugars, and I never thought I could get this strong or flexible, even though I still have a lot of room for improvement.
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again, I would: Sleep in, have a Dr. Pepper for breakfast, swim without worrying that I'll pass out in the pool, and then eat some more sugary crap. Hey, I just have one day, right?
22. My illness has taught me:Everything in the body is connected. I know, obvious, right? But it's really brought home how every little thing you do affects the entire body. You can't just treat the foot without having it affect the brain, and vice versa. It's ALL connected, and always will be. Treat the person first. Also, moderation is crucial, as too much insulin or sugar will do horrible things to you, and this has become a metaphor for me for other aspects of my life. Live within reasonable boundaries, but not horribly constricting ones. Also, cocoa roast almonds are awesome. Atkins makes some peanut butter cups that taste just like Reese's, and some coconut bars that taste just like Mounds. I never would have known about them, and they make me so happy.
23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: My aunt so-and-so had that. She died a horrible death. Gee, thanks.
24. But I love it when people: Listen, and get a little educated, and try to understand.
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote, that gets me through tough times is: Be still and know that I am God. I love this song from Scrubs. Also, the poo one.
26. When someone is diagnosed I'd like to tell them: You are not alone. You can do this. And I would tell them about those Atkins bars, and carb smart ice cream mixed with diet root beer. Delish.
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: How much blood sugar affects my mood.
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn't feeling well was: Babysit my kids.
29. I'm involved with Invisible Illness week because: It's a good thing.
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Glad you stopped by.
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