Glucose Monitoring

The Diabetes Social Media Summit

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On the Tuesday prior to the Australasian Diabetes Congress, I was lucky enough to be a part of the Oz Diabetes Social Media Summit. Brought together by a company called Ascensia Diabetes Care, the afternoon brought together a group of Aussie diabetes bloggers in Adelaide. You can also check out Renza’s recap of the Summit at Diabetogenic, and also search for #OzDSMS on Twitter to see what was Tweeted through the day.

Prior to being invited to this event, I honestly didn’t know a lot about Ascensia. I knew that these guys were connected to the Contour blood glucose meters many Medtronic insulin pumpers use. The ones that wirelessly Bluetooth blood glucose readings to the pump.

I’ve also seen Ascensia pop up on Twitter over the past couple of months, and much to their credit it is a handle that I would actually want to follow. Their feed is definitely one of those ones that genuinely wants to be a part of the diabetes community, rather than constantly spruiking company culture. I genuinely got the same feel from the team who were present with us in the room (and I’m not just saying that because they supplied a coffee machine!).

Ascensia were formed from the sale of the Bayer Diabetes Care business, and their point of difference is that they’re only focussed on diabetes. Part of the reason for our convention was the launch of their Contour Next One wireless blood glucose meter, which apparently boasts the greatest level of accuracy on the market. Bionic Wookiee David Burren has written more about the meter here.

In a room full of privilege, it was really good to hear standard blood glucose monitoring being given the emphasis it deserved. CDE Cheryl Steele from Victoria presented to us on the importance of having an accurate device to calibrate a CGM, and Bionic Wookiee David is living proof of a backup plan!

Grumpy Pumper hit the nail on the head in highlighting that the majority of people with diabetes actually manage with blood glucose monitors and insulin pens. I still manage on finger pricks for about 50% of the time, and I certainly welcome innovation in blood glucose monitoring as well.

I was happy to hear Ascensia’s vision for interconnected diabetes management, rather than pushing one line or avenue of products. We were told that their aim is to be a calibration partner of choice for insulin pump and CGM systems, as well as having formed partnerships with several data management platforms such as Diasend. All of this gives us more choice in the technologies that we may wish to use around our blood glucose meter. More choice for people with diabetes is always a good thing.

During the afternoon, we also heard from special guest Grumpy Pumper from the UK. Despite the persona he portrays online, Grumps is honestly a really genuine guy. Diagnosed in 1994 with no internet or social media, Grumps was doing the best he could with the limited information he had at the time. His sentiments definitely resonated with me and others in the room, which really says something about how many people with diabetes there are still being left in the dark today.

Grumps also shared with us his movement around encouraging other people with diabetes to talk about diabetes complications. It started with a foot infection and a simple Tweet expressing that he wasn’t ashamed of his diabetes complications, assuming that he wasn’t the only one who had them. He has inspired people to open up about their diabetes complications through a hugely popular series of guest posts on his blog.

To be honest, I was a little quieter than normal during this event. Usually, you can just tell that I want to say something by reading the look on my face. But these conversations were bigger than issues we’ve tackled at previous diabetes events. There were questions left unanswered that I honestly don’t know how to tackle.

I am a really, really privileged person. I don’t represent all people with diabetes. If I’m being honest, I’ve been struggling lately with the idea that perhaps I’m not as ‘identifiable’ as I once was because of the privilege I have.

How do we get the level of engagement that was in that room at OzDSMS, outside the room? How do we make sure that every person with diabetes knows about all of the options available to them in managing their diabetes? As Grumps put it, how many people will actually know that there’s a new blood glucose meter on the market today?

Disclosures: Ascensia Diabetes Care hosted me at the Adelaide Convention Centre, before migrating us to Adelaide Oval for dinner, on the Tuesday prior to the Australasian Diabetes Congress. I was already in Adelaide as a guest of Diabetes Australia.

I was fed and watered across the duration of the afternoon and evening. I also received a goodie bag containing a Contour Next One meter, test strips, information packets and lancets that will likely last me a lifetime.

There was no expectation that I would blog about the event. My opinions and my time, including the annual leave I took from work to attend, are my own.

Do Your Insulin Needs Increase During Winter?

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I could feel my blood boiling.

With every single swipe of my FreeStyle Libre reader against the sensor on my arm, I felt increasingly frustrated.

Despite being pretty confident in what I’d eaten and covered with insulin for dinner, my levels dipped slightly before slowly but steadily ascending once again. A pattern that had become somewhat typical over the past couple of weeks following meals.

Despite correction after correction, my blood sugar levels were yet to budge.

My mind wandered back to the pump break I had taken in late April and May. I thought about how easy blood sugar levels had been to manage with pens and needles. How free my mind had been from frustration.

That pump complacency I felt on the night I disconnected my pump in late April had returned. I didn’t want to be feeling it, but it was there, plaguing my thoughts against my own will.

Then, I just had this sort of ‘epiphany.’

I set a temporary basal rate increase of 10% on my insulin pump, hoping that it would help my correction doses to start working better.

When my insulin still seemed ‘sluggish’ a few hours before bed, I increased it to 20%. After a few more days had passed, I went into my pump settings and permanently adjusted the basal rates upwards by 20%.

I’ve heard it discussed before in the diabetes community. I’ll be the first to admit that I never brought into the whole concept of insulin needs increasing during the Winter. And decreasing during the Summer, for that matter.

I don’t know what causes it. There’s been no significant change in my activity levels. I’m very active during my work day as usual, and don’t go anywhere near the gym or a pair of running shoes when I’m at home. My routine is the same. Admittedly, I probably spend less time outdoors or in the sunlight at the moment. Maybe there’s an increased inclination to drink coffee, eat cannoli and watch Australian Survivor.

More than anything, I think it may be an environmental or physiological factor.

I’m just grateful that my insulin is working again and that I can spend more of my day in range, fighting less of an uphill battle in doing so.

After eight years, I’m still learning new things about my diabetes. I truly believe that the more time and experience I have under my belt, the better equipped I am to live with it.

Replicating the Good Days

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At the moment, I’m trying to replicate days like these.

Rather than these.

I have whole weeks where my carb counting is spot on, insulin just ‘works’ and blood sugars are simply effortless to manage. There are less highs, and less lows. The stream of good blood sugars seem to have somewhat of a flow on effect, so long as I can keep the train on course.

Then there are the weeks where blood sugars simply do not want to co-operate with the maths. Blood sugars feel like a lot of effort to manage, because naturally the insulin doesn’t work as well when levels are out of range. The urge to rage bolus is real, ultimately leading to more lows, and more rebound highs. It feels much more difficult to get the train back onto the course, rather than simply keeping it on the course.

In the midst of trying to pinpoint things, this was yesterday’s discovery.

11.1 was the greeting that I received from my FreeStyle Libre sensor after breakfast yesterday. It’s not what I was expecting, given that I had woken up to a blood sugar of 6.2 and carb counted my eggs on toast and milky coffee.

I gave an additional unit of insulin, and decided against reducing my basal rate for a day on my feet at work until that stubborn high started to come down.

Normally, a one unit correction while ripping open pallets of bulky furniture would send me plummeting. Yesterday, I was lucky to nudge the top edge of my target range.

As I recalled the day prior, my blood sugar had also remained stubbornly in the 8s despite repeated corrections. After increasing my basal rate in the evening and avoiding every urge in my body to rage bolus, I slowly but surely landed back into range by bedtime. Only to find that the ascent had begun once again when I checked at 1am.

By this point, I knew what had happened. In fact, I was feeling like an idiot that I had not picked up on this sooner.

Perhaps not as terrible as the banana bread highs that spoiled insulin had given me last time, but spoiled enough to make my blood sugars noticeably more stubborn to manage than usual.

Tools and technologies are only as smart as the people using them.

By sharing some more bits of the daily grind here, I’m hoping to make myself a bit more accountable to replicate more of those good days.

Red Light.

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I glance at the watch on my wrist. I know that it will only take me a minute, but it’s 4 o’clock and I really want to get out of here already.

I make the trek outside, where my car is conveniently parked in its usual spot at the end closest to the centre door. It’s a longer walk in the morning, when I have to come in through the back entrance, but completely worth it at the end of the day.

I hop inside my car, and place my belongings on the vacant seat beside me. I know that it will only take me a minute, but I really just want to start making my way home where afternoon coffee is calling my name.

I place my keys in the ignition, lock my doors and wind down my windows. I reverse out of my spot and make my way out of the carpark, cutting through some of the quieter residential areas in order to avoid the pile up of traffic on my way out of the centre. I make one final right, which takes me back out onto the main road and in a far better position traffic wise.

Finally, I have what I’ve been waiting for as I begin to apply my brakes, slide my gears back into neutral and cars begin to bank up in front of me. A red light.

I only have a minute, but I know I can do it.

I dive into my bag, pull out my travel case and grab my meter, strips and lancing device. I quickly pop open the cap on my test strip vial and slide out a fresh strip, sticking it into my blood glucose meter. I prick my finger with the lancing device, and squeeze my fingertip. A little drop of blood appears on my fingertip, but I know its not enough. I squeeze again, harder, like I’m holding on tightly for dear life.

Part of me knows I don’t have enough blood, but the other hasty part of my brain watching the traffic light tells me I can do this. I bring the meter closer to my fingertip, and let the blood slide onto the end of the test strip.

A shrill BEEEEEEP! Sounds from my meter as a strip fill error appears on the screen. My absolute pet hate when it comes to living with diabetes.

I furiously rip out the useless test strip, pop open the cap on my vial of strips and slide out a new one. I stick it onto the end of my meter, shove my lancing device right up against the tip of my finger and prick again. This time, blood flows more freely. Satisfied, the test strip laps it up and decides to give me a blood glucose reading.

I quickly wipe the excess blood on my fingertip against the side of the test strip as the light changes to green and traffic begins to move. I fling everything on the passenger seat beside me, which I’ll clean up during the next red light.

Hypo in the Diabetes Clinic.

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“Are you still using the Animas?”

“Actually, I have the new YpsoPump.” I replied to the nurse, pulling it out of my pocket.

“Would you like to use your own lancet?”

“Good idea,” I replied, pulling it out of my pencil case and avoiding a bloodbath on my fingers.

“Oh, you’re 3.8,” the nurse said to me after I had applied some blood onto the test strip. “Have you got some hypo treatment on you?”

Before I was even given any time to answer, she had poured me a glass of sugary fluid to drink and handed it to me. Encouragingly, it was an appropriate sized amount that wouldn’t send me rebounding.

“Are you able to feel your hypos?”

“If it’s a steady 3.8, like this one, I feel fine. But if it were a 3.8 and dropping rapidly, I would.” She was lovely, and I didn’t feel that I was being judged.

Another nurse walked in, also wanting to have a look at my new YpsoPump. “Of course, you should treat your hypo first!” She exclaimed to me in a motherly way, after being reminded by nurse one that I was hypo.

“Are you sure I can’t get you some biscuits or anything?” the nurse asked me, as I made my way towards the door.

“No, I’ll be fine. The tea will probably bring me up as well,” I said as I grabbed the Styrofoam cup that I had been given in the hallway earlier.

I made my way back toward the end of the corridor, took a seat and buried my head into my iPhone, grateful for the warm drink on my sore throat. I wasn’t worried.

Some time later, the nurse returned. She hovered for a moment, but I didn’t really notice until she spoke.

“Frank, would you like to check your blood sugar again?”

Knowing it had been sufficiently treated, I had completely forgotten about my hypo. I pulled out my FreeStyle Libre, registering the 3.7. I wasn’t convinced that I needed anything further, and pulled out my meter.

“I’m happy to leave it,” I said, holding up my meter that was displaying a 4.4. “I don’t want to overtreat it, and the tea will probably bring me up a bit more as well.”

“Are you sure I can’t get you any biscuits or something?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

I get that this comes from a good place. A really good place.

Perhaps if hypos hadn’t interrupted many of my work days, bed times, socialising, housework, walks and errands over the years, I might just treat them with the same response as that nurse.

Hypos are not a scary thing, provided I know how to manage them. They are a part of living with diabetes, just like checking my blood sugar or injecting some insulin. Last year at the Roche Educator’s Day, I made a big point of stating that two hypos per week was an unrealistic expectation from my healthcare professionals. Moreso as my skills in managing blood sugars improved and I was spending more time in range.

I get that hypos are not good for me in the long run. I get that hypos can impair my cognitive function. I also get that hypos can be life threatening – and maybe I’m just lucky that I’ve never had one where I’ve needed help. Believe me, I don’t like having hypos anymore than a healthcare professional likes seeing them appear on a blood glucose meter.

However I feel it’s more important that I’m dosing insulin responsibly, checking my blood sugar often enough, travelling with glucose tabs on hand and am able to sufficiently treat a low.

Some healthcare professionals condemn people with diabetes for having too many lows, and this is where we need to reshape our attitudes toward hypos.

Making me feel any lesser for the number of hypos I have will only make it more difficult for me to share openly in front of a healthcare professional, ultimately jeopardising the provision of any support I may need.