Diabetes

Taking Words, and Actions, To Heart

3 Comments

I’ve always been the kind of person who takes a lot of what others say to heart. And letting those little things get to me is sometimes my biggest downfall.

I woke up yesterday morning feeling pretty good. Things were getting back on track diabetes wise, I’d had a decent night’s sleep and I was ready to take on another day. I got to work, and it was all smiles and laughter with my work Mums as usual. “Dobro utrov, ca cosi?” Which is Macedonian for “good morning, how are you?” It’s one of the little perks that I love about getting to work in the morning.

But after I’d started work yesterday morning, there was one small comment that was enough to turn around my mood, and my day. What was said isn’t as important as the way in which it affected me. I hate how much I took that comment to heart. I hate my behaviour that followed that comment. My moodiness, my negativity, and my stubborn refusal to let that comment go through the morning. While it may have taken somebody else to make that comment, it was me who chose to let that comment ruin my day. And I hate myself for it.

And in a weird way, my attitude towards that situation yesterday kind of parallels my attitude towards diabetes. Every decision that I make has an impact on my diabetes. Every item of food that I eat. Every drink that I put in my mouth. Every place that I choose to visit. Every activity that I choose to do. I carry diabetes along with me, every step of the way. Whether I like it or not.

And it only takes one insulin dose. One finger prick. One really high blood sugar reading. One anger fuelled over correction. One weakening hypo. One handful of jellybeans. One small action is enough to throw my diabetes sideways, and turn my day upside down. It’s enough to make me angry. Teary. Emotional. Moody. It’s enough to make me beat myself up for hours. It’s enough to ride me with guilt for the rest of the day. It’s enough to make me lose my motivation.

I got some wise words of advice from some friends in the staff room later in the day. I know the real truth surrounding that comment, and I shouldn’t let anything else that’s said bother me. Let it in one ear, and out the other.

And I know the truth behind my diabetes management, also. I am living with an unpredictable disease. I am stepping into the shoes of a perfectly functioning pancreas, something which is not easy to do. I find incredible strength to step up to that task, each and every single day. I fulful this role to the best of my ability. It’s something that many others wouldn’t even be able to imagine doing. But I am only human. And I must forgive myself when things don’t go as planned, and take away the added wisdom for next time round.

I must learn not to take words, and actions, too much to heart.

Nightly 1am Blood Glucose Checks

4 Comments

I’ve always based my decision to check my glucose levels overnight on how confident I am that they will remain stable. There have been good stretches where I have enjoyed several weeks of stable numbers through the night. And some wonderfully uninterrupted nights of sleep. Then there have also been some terrible stretches, where I have had absolutely no confidence in my glucose levels whatsoever. Which pretty much sums up the past couple of weeks for me.

I’ve been stuck in a bit of a rut these past couple of weeks. It probably started with a few days of less than perfect food choices. It would have been followed by a couple of days of less than ideal, and even harder to control, numbers. It has resulted in a lack of energy, and some unhealthy habits on my part. Like some late nights, and some extremely long weekend sleep ins. And the longer I’ve let this go on, the harder it has been for me to pick myself up and begin to climb out of this rut.

There is one thing I have done differently during this rut, however. I have taken ownership for the consequences of my unhealthy behaviour these past couple of weeks. That consequence is getting up at 1am every night to test my glucose levels. I’ve dialled up my Lantus dose to cover the added stress, fat and carbs consumed. But I’ve never really felt certain whether my glucose levels will settle, or spike again after I go to bed (mostly the latter).

There’s no worse feeling than waking up to something like 15. Or even worse, 20. It puts a huge damper on the quality of my day, and the people I interact with. I hate thinking about the fact that my glucose levels have been sitting at those crazy high levels for the better part of 8 hours. I am ridden with guilt when I think about how irresponsible I’ve been, and of all the damage that I’ve done to my body.

During this rut, I’ve managed to catch a lot of those highs at 1am and bring them back down within range by morning. I’m quite proud of that. Having control over those night time numbers has slowly restored some of my diabetes motivation. Gradually I’m getting back into my healthier habits, and my insulin requirements seem to be getting back to normal once again.

By the time I went to bed on Sunday night, I finally felt confident that my glucose levels would not rise through the night. What I did not anticipate, however, was going hypo at 1.30am. But I will still take it as a win. I just need to drop my Lantus dose a tad more, and I should be good to go once again.

Hopefully ready for the start of another good stretch.

School Bus Memories

Leave a Comment

As I went walking on Friday afternoon, it occurred to me that I just so happened to be retracing part of the route that my old school bus would take every day. And being the second last Friday in October, it also just happened to mark a certain number of years since I finished school. And, a couple of hundred Friday afternoons since I last caught my number 2 school bus. Catching that bus every day was a significant chapter of my life, and one of the final chapters that I closed before my diagnosis.

I can remember waiting outside the school gates for that bus to arrive every day. On blazing, sunny 40 degree days, and on cold, blustery grey days. I can remember getting excited on the days where our bus was one of the comfortable, spacious, new air conditioned ones. And I can remember being depressed every time our bus was one of the old, squashy, rattly ones with ripped seats and graffitied windows.

I can remember being given a word of advice not to sit at the back of the bus on my first day of year eight, because that was where all the “cool” kids sat. And I can remember eventually becoming one of those cool kids who sat at the back of the bus when I made it to year eleven and year twelve.

I can remember how full my school bag used to be on that bus. Full of the text books I told myself that I would study that night. The assignments I convinced myself I’d get a head start on that weekend. The school blazer that I was supposed to wear all the way home, but stuffed into my bag the minute I got onto that bus and out of the teacher’s sight. The lunchbox that never saw the light of day because it was “uncool” to take it out into the school yard. My very first Motorola flip phone, wallet, keys and drink bottle.

And absolutely nothing else.

If there’s one thing that those bus rides mean to me today, it’s the fact that it was one of the last chapters of my life that was completely diabetes free. There was no blood glucose meter to carry around, making sure that it wasn’t squashed by the weight of my textbooks. There were no sneaky glucose checks or insulin correction shots before everyone else got on the bus fashionably late. There were no bags of jellybeans to fumble around for on the bottom of my bag if I was feeling shaky. I was able to happily eat all of the junk food that was passed around and not feel guilty for it. I didn’t have to think about my next insulin shot.

Looking back today, that world seems completely unreal to me. But it was there. It was reality. And it feels like only yesterday that I was getting off that number 2 bus for the very last time.

And when I got off at that bus stop at ten minutes to four each day, my biggest concern in the world was what treat I would have when I got inside. Potato chips or a bowl of ice cream? Lollies or chocolate? Popcorn or salted nuts? There was the latest school politics that I couldn’t wait to tell my Mum and little sister. Those much debated “favourite” students. Those love to hate teachers. And all of the homework that I probably wouldn’t get done that night.

So in other words, not a worry in the world.

Best of luck to all the Year 12 students preparing for final exams and graduation at the moment. Fond memories.

Logging My First Big Blue Test!

Leave a Comment

I’ve never truly understood the big obsession with Fitbits and step counts and runkeepers. That is, until I opened the Health app on my iPhone about a month ago. That nifty little app has been logging my step count all year long without me even knowing. And looking at the stats, they’re a little embarassing. I can see a huge peak during the month of July, when I was galavanting around Canberra and Sydney having the time of my life (which seems like a lifetime ago, mind you). Then there are some massive slumps on either side while I’ve been back at boring old home.

I’ve been working on getting my step count up over the last month, going for walks most afternoons. Even factoring in the steps that my iPhone doesn’t log while I’m at work (and I would log a lot during my work day), it’s still incredibly hard to reach 10,000 a day!

Which brings me to the Big Blue Test. The Big Blue Test is a program of the Diabetes Hands Foundation, the guys who are also behind the wonderful TuDiabetes community. The Big Blue Test helps to raise money for diabetes charities that provide life saving supplies, services and education to people with diabetes in need.

It’s as simple as testing your blood glucose.

IMG_0564

Getting active for at least 14 minutes of physical activity. If you hate exercise as much as I do, physical activity can be absolutely anything. Also coincidentally wearing blue for Blue Fridays (and being a good diabetic by wearing socks on my feet, of course).

IMG_0582

Testing your blood glucose level again. Hopefully you see a nice drop in your BGLs after exercising like I did in this instance!

IMG_0579

And then logging the details at www.bigbluetest.org or by downloading the Big Blue Test iPhone app. It will literally take a minute of your time, for a series of activities that you probably do already.

Each Big Blue Test that you log between now and November 30 will trigger a $1 donation to diabetes charities. There have been 101,500 Big Blue Tests completed since 2010, this year we are hoping to reach 110,000.

So get testing this weekend.

long

The Diabetes Translation of “Good Thanks.”

1 Comment

“Hi, how are you today?” Is what I’ll be asked the minute I walk into work this morning.

And “Haha, no too bad thanks.” Is my boring, stock standard reply that I seem to give every other day.

However, the diabetes translation of these words actually goes something like this:

Well, I wanted to have an early night yesterday. My blood sugar level was a perfect 5.3 at 9.42pm. I so badly wanted to go to bed and not think about numbers for 8 whole hours. But I couldn’t. That’s just one of the realities of having diabetes. I can do so, sometimes. But at the moment, I just can’t. I have absolutely no confidence in my night time glucose levels at the moment, which means that I can’t treat myself to a whole uninterrupted night’s sleep. I had to set my alarm last night, so that I could test my blood sugar levels during the night just to make sure.

I was startled awake at 12.30am by my favourite blaring noise that came from the alarm clock on my iPhone. My blood sugar level was another perfect 4.7, and I was able to quickly go back to sleep.

I woke up again at 2.11am, feeling a little shaky. I wanted so badly to ignore it, and drift back off to sleep. I could not be bothered opening my eyes and turning on the bright light of my bedside lamp in order to test. But I had to. I activated one of my diabetes superpowers and forced myself awake. Another perfect 4.5. I was convinced I was hypo, and had to test again just to be sure. Nope, it was 4.7. And with that, I was able to drift back off to sleep again.

I woke up next at 3.54am, feeling shaky once again. This time I was 3.1. I had to work out how many marshmallows I would treat my hypo with, and carefully measure them out onto the palm of my hand. If I don’t do this, my hypo-hangry brain will completely forget how many I’ve eaten once I start.

For the fourth time that night, I had to drift back off to sleep. And for the fourth time that night I was woken up, this time by my 5.50am morning alarm.

So, all in all, I had a crap night.

That’s what “not too bad thanks” really means, if I were to answer your question truthfully today.