An Ode To My Pump & Blood Sugar Machine A Le Napoleon Dynamite
I love the movie "Napoleon Dynamite." It has so many great quotes & is truly one of my favorites.
This movie influenced me in many ways. Such as:
- Buying my nephew a "Vote For Pedro" shirt for his 13th birthday - It was a huge hit!
- Contemplating Cage Fighting as a new form of cardio
- Seriously considering adopting either a mythical Liger or a bitchy llama as a pet.
Kip wrote the following song for his Glamazonian bride.
" Yes I love technology, not as much as you you see, but still I love technology, Always and forever, Always and forever."
That little tune would be what I sing to both my pump & blood sugar monitor every single time they annoy me.
Whenever my battery craps out, my tubing gets tangled, or my blood sugar monitor decides that I didn't sufficiently gouge myself enough for an accurate reading, I take a deep breath and say "I love technology." Then I sing Kip's tune and get on with my day.
We are so lucky to live in an age when Diabetes technology has given us insulin pumps, blood monitors, CGM's,and carb counting is now the rule as opposed to the complete sugar ban of not so long ago.
I sometimes forget how it used to be. Needles, soring blood sugars, antiquated urine testing involving strips, fizzy tablets and a test tube. Blood sugar monitors that were neither portable or accurate. And never being able to enjoy anything that contained even a hint of the Voodoo sugar without receiving criminal looks from others and loads of self guilt from me....
Yes, I want a cure in my life time, but I'm thankful for Diabetes technology. I've seen how it makes my life more livable and Blood Sugar Nirvana more achievable. I'm grateful for it. " Yes I love technology, not as much as you you see, but still I love technology, Always and forever, Always and forever." http://www.veoh.com/videos/v458688PHRZ57Xr
Blood Work Day & DAMN YOU BEET SALAD!
I woke up woke up this morning (slightly later than usual- since I had to forgo coffee & food)
jumped in the shower, got dressed, blow dried my hair, put my make up on, grabbed my stuff,
and ran out the door.
Today was blood work day, and I needed to get there ASAP.
Ahhhh, blood work day, how I dread you!
I walked in the lab at 8 am and the place was packed! I was not pleased.
The lab didn’t even open until 8am, so why was I number 12?
I took a seat, grabbed a magazine, and tried to relax.
I tried to read an article in one of last months People Mags, but I just sat there and looked at the pics.
I was coffee and food deprived, anxious, and worried.
Worried I’d be late for work, worried about what my lab results would show,
and worried about life in general.
I’m not so calm and composed when it comes to tests.
Give me a bitch whose ready to pick a fight with me in a locker room and I’m cool as a cucumber. Verbally, I will carve her a new one no problem!
but sitting in the lab, waiting to get my blood taken throws me
in all types of loops!
What if my A1C, Kidney, & cholesterol numbers were high?
What if the tests pointed towards something scary? I’m so over scary.
I’m so over tests and Doctor’s appointments.
The past 6 weeks I’ve had more than my fill.
Tomorrow is another eye appointment and Thursday is my Endo visit.
Grab a fork and stick it in me, because this bird is done!
I told myself to shake it off and get a grip.
I tweeted about sitting in the waiting room, sans caffeine and day dreamed of coffee,
until I could actually see it in my head.
A piping hot Starbucks with cream and sugar…. and this particular cup of coffee
had numbers like 6.4, 6.6, and 6.7 dancing around it.
My A1C goals had infiltrated my coffee fantasy.
When they called number 7, I snapped back to reality.
It was 8:10. Numbers 8 and 9 were called.
I decided to take my blood sugar- it was 105. I was pleased for several reasons.
1. 105 is bearable when one is fasting for blood work.
2. I’d eaten out last night and my bedtime bg was 240. Apparently,
I didn’t bolus for my Large beet/arugala/gorganzola salad and
stuffed mushrooms with crabs correctly.
My pump told me to do a bolus correction of 2.4 units.
But it was 11pm and I had to fast after midnight- I didn’t want to wake up to low,
so I only bolused 2 units.
AND I MY BG WAS 105
NOte to Self: YOU ROCK
Number 10 was called at 8:14
Number 11 was called at 8:20.
I put my iphone away, grabbed my RX and insurance card and stood up.
I watched the clock slowly tick. 8:21, 8:22, 8:23, 8:24…NUMBER 12
Me: “Right here,” I practically screamed and ran in.
The "Blood Women" were not moving fast- didn’t they know I hadn’t had coffee
and needed to be at work by 9 am?
They took FOREVER to type my info into the computer- It was excruciating to wait, so
I decided to help them along.
Me: Can I pee while your filling out the paperwork, because I really have to get going.
They agreed, and I took the plastic cup and ran to the rest room, and…couldn’t go.
I was more than miffed! I downed 20 ounces of water before I walked in the waiting
room and now I couldn’t go! WTF?
Finally, (and after what seemed like an eternity) I went – but not much,
and it was dark- which freaked me out all over again.
When I returned to the blood workroom I looked at the Blood Ladies and said:
Why is this SO dark? What’s wrong with me?
They told me to calm down, that it could be all sorts of things and none of them bad.
Then they told me to relax, but I couldn’t.
On a positive note, the "Blood Woman"number 1 was able to extract my blood on
the first try and I hardly felt it.
I thanked the "Blood Women" and dashed off to my car.
It was 8:45 and I had 15 minutes to go to Starbucks and get to work.
On my way there I drove myself crazy by trying to remember what hue
my last urine sample was. I couldn’t remember to save my life.
I am like a hamster on a perpetual spinning wheel - and I'm ready to hit the breaks!
Now I wait until Thursday for this set of test results.
Tomorrow my eyes will be dilated for the 5th time in 6 weeks.
I have another eye appointment in February.
But before that, I’m going to Florida - I need a vacation!
Heeeeeyyyyyyy, I just thought of this,don't beets make your urine all funky colored?
The Beet Salad is to blame!
All this worrying because of the damn Beet Salad.
Curse you Beet Salad!
How dare you worry me and freak me out! You weren’t even that tasty!
Next time I’m ordering the House Salad because YOU SUCK.
BUT I'm still going to Florida -Because it's pretty obvious after this post that I need to get away~
After all, I'd just flipped my"Bitch Switch" on a freaking Beet Salad!
The Diabetes Pancreas Postulate & The Diabetes Pancreas Postulate
Diabetic say "WHAAAAAAT?????"
I was NOT a math major in college and as long as I’m being honest, I barely made it through high school algebra & geometry! No, I was Literature, History & Social Studies girl!
And had it not been for my love of movies, I NEVER would have survived High School Algebra & Geometry - I'm totally serious! I had the same teacher for both algebra & geometry, and he felt so sorry for me and my math struggles/anxiety, he made all out test extra credit questions based on movies! By doing so, I was able to barely squeak by those classes with C.
But for some reason, the Partition Postulate has stuck with me, even after all these years.
Partition Postulate: The whole is equal to the sum of its parts.
OK, I can relate to that – and it makes perfect sense to me... in theory.
But like I’m prone to do, I’ve given the Partition Postulate some diabetes twists ~
The Diabetes Pancreas Postulate: Is based on the whole of the Islet of Langerhans being destroyed, and therefore being unable to work in the organ known as the pancreas, which makes the pancreas unable to produce insulin.
Which, requires said person with said bum pancreas to partake in injections of insulin either via MDI (multiple daily injections,) or portable pancreases – a.k.a, insulin pumps for the rest of his or her life and deal with the Diabetes Police almost as much.
Which thus becomes, The Diabetes Postulate: The sum of my parts lacks a fully functioning pancreas, but the sum of my parts and my worth as a person is not based on the fact that my pancreas is faulty.
If that were really the case, morons wouldn’t be elected to congress because their brains were faulty and the Kardashians wouldn’t have a show because they lacked basic conversation & behavioral skills.
You know what I just realized guys? Had my teacher used diabetes as examples in his theorems and postulates, I would have totally nailed his classes and walked out of them both with an A!
