#DBlogWeek Changing the World

I love science. LOVE. Love. love. SCIENCE.

And I have diabetes... (because my busted pancreas told me so)

So naturally my favorite advocacy effort focuses on research funding. I volunteer for JDRF at as many of their outreach events as I can. I'm not a great fundraiser - I'd rather tell you about all the interesting advancements and explain all that I know about beta cell encapsulation, insulin pump algorithms, and the latest and greatest and not quite out in the world yet (but in a few decades?) glucose responsive insulin. I'm not an expert but I am a doctoral student in the biomedical field so I hear tidbits here and there. I understand more of the science than your average bear. 

Even though I've been kind of crummy at it lately, I also love the sense of community that we build with each other and with the world at large. Twitter's my go to for connecting with the diabetes online community and unfortunately I've let it go a little silent (along with this blog). BUT I do try. My favorite days are when someone asks "why are you stabbing yourself?", "should you be eating that?", or "is that a beeper?". Guerilla advocacy -- answer their questions and teach them a tidbit or two about diabetes. Almost everyone knows someone with diabetes at this point, and yet there's such a lack of knowledge and serious judgement out there. So I'm educating the world one person at a time.

Oh Hi There Late Night

Being a perpetual college student, I spent many many years sleeping 2-4 hours a night without a problem. As I've progressed in my studies and gotten older, I realize that my body doesn't respond well to major changes to my odd but regularly scheduled eight hours of rest that needs me to be in bed by midnight or 1 am. While my schedule is flexible, it has some preferred order on most days.

Case and point: Last night, I stayed up well past my bedtime and woke up less than two hours later in a sweaty panic-driven mess. I wrestled all of the sheets and blankets of me and wrestled the pillows to find my CGM aka Eggy unusually silent. Not quite at the LOW stage but definitely in the red at a reading of 51 mg/dl, I gauged whether or not my legs were solid enough to handle my weight. The shakiness of my knees while I was still laying down said definitely not. Stop. Think. Think. Think. Where's the sugar at? Juice boxes! Luckily, I had stocked up on those weird Capri Sun packs during my last bulk buying binge. Except during my last cleaning binge, I had put the boxes just outside my beside reach. I destroyed the Jenga game I was playing on my nightstand with my water bottle, tissues, lamp, vitamins, books, snack pile, etc. without a care. I stabbed the first pouch and thought I gulped it down too quickly. Of course there's a little grape juice puddle on my pillow... In my still ensuing panic, I reached and stabbed another packet. But I still didn't feel like I had satisfied my low blood sugar eating rage so instead of rushing to the kitchen to find the plethora of health-*cough*sugar*cough*-laden treats that were hiding on my kitchen table, I grabbed three handfuls of almonds and stuffed them to my face. Chomping down on them like a chipmunk made my heart stop racing.

Fade to the morning where I woke up to a reading of 179 mg/dl, little chunks of almonds in my gums, the sheets twisted into a rubberband ball, and a headache. Gotta love the D rollercoaster ride.