Hard to Resist . . . . .

When you awake around 2 a.m., nightshirt and sheets drenched in sweat, pump suspended, and a blood sugar of 47, resisting what is downstairs in the refrigerator is pretty impossible.  Especially when it’s these.



These are Cookie Dough Truffles I made yesterday for a Christmas party on Saturday and I could think of nothing else when that low woke me.  Although I am proud I only ate two . . . . .  instead of two dozen.  Of course, I also polished off the last of our crackers with some cheese, but you can’t win them all.  And yes, I rebounded, but I managed to wake up with a fasting sugar of 123.  Not too shabby, I guess.

What do you find hard to resist when you are low?

Thirty-Four . . . .

Diaversaries strike me as somewhat odd.  Wishing someone a Happy Diaversary can feel awkward because I certainly would never wish diabetes on anyone.  Yet I do want to cheer them on for the hard work they put into each year with diabetes.

Over the years my reaction to my own diaversary seems to vary.  I’ve been reflective, I’ve been light and cheery, I’ve been sad and tired, and I’ve been fed up and feeling guilty.  All of last week I sifted through emotions trying to figure out how I feel this year, and in the end I realized I feel nothing.  Pete and I could have celebrated yesterday, the day I usually choose to symbolize whatever day in December I was actually diagnosed, but it didn’t seem worth the effort.  Yesterday symbolically marked 12,418 days I’ve lived with diabetes.  Just a day like any other in the past 34 years.  Today I make my way through my 12,419th day with diabetes.  Hopefully I have at least 12,000 more ahead of me.  It doesn’t feel like something to celebrate.  It doesn’t feel like something to morn.  I’m not angry or proud or much of anything.  It just is what it is . . . . . .  just another day in my life as I trek onward.

Looking Back - A Holiday Poem . . . .

*** I was absolutely sure Christmas was three weeks from today . . . . until I looked at my calendar.  WTF, there are only two weeks until Christmas?  (That is "What The Fudge", as in the Christmas fudge I make every year, by the way.  What were you thinking??)  I am way too behind so today seems like a great day to revisit a post from 2008 in which I gave "A Visit from St. Nicholas" a diabetes (and knitting) spin.  Enjoy! ***


'Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the blog,
Not a new post was stirring, your time it won't hog.

Friends started e-mailing notes filled with care,
Wondering why updates had now become rare.

There's shopping and knitting and holiday crap,
I know I should post, but I all I want is a nap!

I'm cranky and blue and just keep feeling sadder
So I test my blood sugar to see what's the matter.

First it's too high, then it's too low
Holiday stress wreaks havoc on blood sugar, you know?

Bolus a correction when the highs appear,
And for those lows, gobble eight tiny reindeer.
(um, reindeer cookies!)

Then grab the knitting needles, so lively and quick,
And work on those gifts, just like St. Nick.

Less rapid than eagles my gifts how they came,
But I whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, mittens! now, scarves! now, socks and toys!
On, lace! on cables! for girls and for boys!

To the top of the skein! to the top of the yarn ball!
Now knit away! knit away! knit away all!"

Then off to the mall in my car I flew,
To buy other gifts for the people I knew.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard in my head
The buzzing sound I've long come to dread.

I drew in my hand, and again pricked my finger,
Knowing I'd have a low that would linger and linger.

Shopping makes blood-sugar crash, from my head to my foot,
I need to sit down, eat something, stay put;

A bundle of candy I had flung on my back,
It's the reason my purse is as large as a sack.

The blood sugar woes make it hard to be merry!
And my muscles ache from the supplies I must carry!

I wish I stayed home to knit one more row,
Instead of braving the mall and fighting this low;

But soon after the SweetTarts are safe in my belly,
My legs stop feeling as if they are made of jelly.

I'm feeling much better, a right jolly old elf,
And I laugh as I shop, in spite of myself;

A few more gifts from the list in my head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

I make my way home, but then remember more work,
I've forgotten to bake cookies; I feel like a jerk!

A batch of shortbread, shaped like Christmas bows,
Just thinking of them and my blood sugar rose.

So much left to do, as my blog drops out of sight,
"Happy Blood-Sugar to all, and to all a good-night."

Lucky Moment . . . .

My morning routine always starts with a humungous cup of coffee and a bolus of insulin to cover it.  An hour or so later, my bladder is beyond full and it’s time for a bathroom break.  I know . . . . over sharing, but trust me this is relevant.

This morning as I was relieving myself of some coffee I consumed my CGM High Predicted alarm rang.  A quick glance showed me in the 160s and rising fast with one up arrow.   I finished up in the bathroom and started to tuck my pump tubing into my waistband when I got a surprise.  You see, my tubing was not actually connected to me!  After I finished my shower an hour earlier I must not have properly clicked my site connection back together.

Why do I consider this lucky?  After all, I had been without insulin for about an hour, right?  Well, if I hadn’t been in the bathroom when my alarm sounded, I would have simply tested my sugar and bolused a correction . . . . . .which would have likely ended up absorbed into my jeans.  I don’t know how long it would have taken me to realize I wasn’t connected, because this is the first time I can remember something like this happening.  So I’m very lucky that my small bladder placed me in the bathroom with my tubing exposed at the exact moment the high alarm sounded.

There is so much about diabetes that seems like a big heap of bad luck.  So when a bit of good luck comes along, it’s really nice to acknowledge it.  Have you run into any diabetes good luck lately?