Feet

Pins and Needles

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When I began experiencing pins and needles in my feet less than a year after being diagnosed with diabetes, I was freaking out.

The minute I was diagnosed, I had been told to look after my feet. To check them every day. To look out for cuts and abraisions. I had been made well aware of the increased risks to the feet for people with diabetes. I cringed at the thought of people needing to have limbs amputated.

I was convinced that I had done something wrong. I cursed myself for how many hypos I had been having at the time. I felt ridden with guilt for not being able to better manage my blood sugar levels. It was my first year, for crying out loud!

Foot complications were all I could think about. Mum was in disbelief when I told her I was thinking of calling in sick to work, in favour of trying to find a podiatrist that would see me on a Saturday. (I was known to be a bit of a workaholic in my first job…)

I remember standing behind a register the following day, unable to think of anything other than the sensation in my feet. I arrived home to an empty house that evening, having self diagnosed myself with circulatory problems. I pulled the cover off of the dusty treadmill that Mum and Dad bought us kids for Christmas, but never used. I put on my sneakers and began running, frantically, in an attempt to boost the circulation in my feet. And I never run!

Of course, I had worried myself over absolutely nothing. With less than one year of diabetes under my belt, it was highly unlikely that I had anything to be seriously worried about. My diabetes educator even told me so much, when she squeezed me in during her lunch break to chat about it the following week. I had automatically associated the pins and needles in my feet with my blood sugars, which did not pose any foreseeable risk.

My podiatrist couldn’t find any circulation problems with my feet either, but commended me for coming in to check. And no sooner than my mind was put at ease, the pins and needles had passed.

My diabetes is getting older. With every passing day, diabetes becomes a larger fraction of my life. I constantly doubt myself. Whether I am doing enough to stay healthy, and on top of this damn condition.

There was a quote I found on Twitter about diabetes complications, that has stuck with me for some time. It went something along the lines of this.

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Every time I’m having a bad day, and every time I’m doubting my self management efforts, I repeat these words to myself.

And again. And again. Until they sink in.

My Brush With Diabetes and Cold Feet

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Summer has come extremely early this year. There’s been no one-day-its-hot-the-next-day-its-cold sort of weather here like usual in the Spring. I swear that one week I was in my trackies and the next I was in my shorts. The only part of my body that didn’t want to agree with me, however, was my feet.

It was 30 degrees outside. I was wearing my shorts. But my feet were ice cold. I knew that something was wrong. I was sitting there on the couch, and my cold feet were irritating me. I couldn’t sit still as I was sitting on the couch watching The Walking Dead. I was sub consciously finding a corner of the couch to tuck my feet into, just to warm them up. I tried resting my foot against the warmer flesh on my upper thigh to heat it up. I was sticking my fingers underneath my socks as I anxiously waited for them to heat up. One night I even got out of bed to grab a second pair. I was stressing myself out, bigtime.

Straight away, I began to think about possible circulation problems and nerve damage to my feet. I scraped my finger nails against the underside of my feet, and against each toe, just to make sure I had feeling there. I googled the words diabetes and cold feet, only to find information to support the theories that I had been stressing out about. And I began to criticise myself for all of the imperfect decisions that I had made with my diabetes management lately.

I knew that there was a podiatrist at my doctor’s surgery, so I decided to make an appointment there. I was well overdue for a diabetic foot checkup nonetheless. The last time I had a proper foot checkup with a podiatrist was back in 2011 when I was receiving treatment for a stubborn plantar wart at my hospital outpatient centre. 

As he applied pressure to check the pulses in my feet, my nerves were instantly replaced with reassurance. I could feel the pressure of the blood pulsing through my feet. I could hear my pulses amplified as he placed an ultrasound-like machine up against my feet. And as he poked around to test my sensation, I could feel everything.

I was pretty relieved to hear that everything was fine. He suggested some accupuncture to help deal with the cold feet, which was successful in 8 out of 10 patients with the same problem. I told him I’d leave the treatment for the time being and see how it goes.

So, nothing may have been wrong that day. But I certainly don’t regret going in. It was certainly well worth having that issue relieved, and a huge weight off my shoulders. And I was pleased to hear my podiatrist commend me for coming in, rather than accuse me of being a worry-wort.

Who knows – maybe my feet don’t want to come out of winter hibernation mode just yet!

Reading up on insulin pumps in my latest #DOCtober photo, after attending an information session on Wednesday evening.

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