Spoiled Insulin

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.

Insulin Gone Bad.

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I couldn’t help but notice the reading of 14.1. Is that high? My friend asked me from across the table as I was demonstrating my FreeStyle Libre.

Yeah, I obviously haven’t given enough insulin for the banana bread, I replied, pulling my pump out of my pocket and bolusing for another 30 grams of carbs ever so casually.

I had already bolused a very generous 60 grams of carbs for the slice of banana bread and iced coffee I had ordered at the local cafe, but I wasn’t overly surprised to see the upward trend arrow on my Libre.

My blood sugar was still skyrocketing by the time I arrived home an hour later, with my Libre clocking in at a lovely 17.4. I bolused for another 10g of carbs, bringing the total for my mid morning coffee catch up to an overly generous 100g of carbs. I was certain that all of this insulin was bound to kick in any minute now.

After another hour had passed and my Libre clocked in at 25, I had figured that banana bread was the devil. After a prick of the finger came in at 20.4, I ignored all insulin I had on board and gave a full 4 unit correction. I also set a temporary basal rate of 100% to help get things moving in the right direction.

After a bucketful of insulin, my blood sugars slowly but surely began moving in the right direction over the course of the afternoon.

When dinner time rolled around and I was back in range, I bolused for the 50 grams of carbs on my plate. I drank a glass of water. I stepped outside and turned the sprinklers on. I washed some strawberries that I planned on having post dinner. I drank yet another glass of water. I stepped outside again, and switched the reticulation off. After distracting myself for a good 20 minutes or so for the bolus to kick in, I finally tucked into my dinner with the hope of avoiding another blood sugar rollercoaster.

Fast forward to me in front of the television 2 hours later, and my blood sugar clocked in at 16.1 with an upward trend arrow on my Libre.

I scrolled back through my pump history, noting that my last prime was four and a half days ago. As I swapped out the infusion site, my brain began to cotton on to other moments of particularly difficult-to-manage post meal blood sugars in recent days.

The lone milky coffee that sent my blood sugar upwards of 10. The hot cross bun that I’d carefully pre bolused for, but landed me close to 20. Rising blood sugars, despite a long walk fuelled by 10g of chocolate beforehand. Even a pasta meal had been extremely difficult to manage.

As I connected all of these recent occurrences together, I eventually recalled another occurrence of skyrocketing levels when my insulin had spoiled 2 years ago.

My insulin had spoiled! There was my answer! 

So, maybe Banana bread wasn’t the devil after all.