Grace

If you know me, you know that I don't possess Grace in great quantity, for instance...

I rushed, rushed, rushed onto a train to New York City to meet Steve and Stephanie of LivingVertical for an afternoon of city bouldering. I hustled my way through the subway and emerged to see a text message relaying that my friends were running a little late. Luckily, we were meeting in Central Park. There are an abundance of benches and grass patches to plop down on. I was smart enough to bring a book for the train ride to keep me occupied without killing my battery, and I made a point to stop in Penn Station to pick up a bottle of Diet Coke for refreshment.

As I waited for my friends, I glanced at my ever faithful Eggy and he showed me something steady at around 100. On the train ride, I had suffered a mild low that I treated with a Clif Bar and I didn't want to have diabetes interfering with my afternoon. Just before I get a text from my friend telling me where they were at, I wake up from my reading fog (where the entire real world disappears) to the dreadful triple buzz at 62 mg/dl. My mind was still glazed with confusion as I hunted through my backpack for glucose tabs. I popped in 5 or 6 since my blood sugar was trending downward. My phone buzzed. I thought about asking them to meet me instead of walking the two blocks, but decided I was fine even though I was still trending down. Off I went (in the wrong direction, but I figured that out afterwards).

I smushed everything back into place in my bag. My wallet was stowed away secretly. My phone was resting safely in my pocket. I had Eggy in my left hand and the empty bottle in my right hand. I walked over to the nearest trashcan and paused with fuzzy questions of which way to walk down the sidewalk. Right then, I did it. I thoughtlessly and gracefully tossed Eggy in the trashcan while the plastic bottle remained firmly in my grasp. I paused. I gasped. I slapped my forehead, and then, perched up onto the ledge where the can sat. Almost thereeee with my hand stretched out. But not quite. The trashcan was large enough that I needed to hop and gently toss myself over the edge to be able to reach it. I managed to escape with just a little pain to my stomach from being gouged by the metal edge. I'm sure there were some very confused tourists snapping photos and whispering about the crazy chick in the trashcan. If they only knew half of the truth... Most importantly, Eggy survived without any impact/liquid damage or any squishy/sticky/gross residue.

Grace? I'm still hunting for that in the trash can I lost it in years ago (if I ever had it).

Feed me, Seymour!

Prompt #3: Yesterday we gave ourselves and our loved ones a big pat on the back for one thing we are great at. Today let’s look at the flip-side. We probably all have one thing we could try to do better. Why not make today the day we start working on it. No judgments, no scolding, just sharing one small thing we can improve so the DOC can cheer us on.

I wrote a little while ago about how I wanted to pay attention to my Dexcom more, ignore alarms less, and not put off treatment of hypoglycemic events. And I've done that pretty well (despite my out of the blue ER visit). Fewer lows and hesitations to reach for juice/candy/nutella...

Finger-sticking while not my favorite thing in the world is something I manage at least four (if not more) times a day. Counting/SWAG-ing carbs has always been a strength of mine. Like a lot of other people out there, I despise changing my infusion set and my Dexcom sensor. Yet, I even do that with out a lot of struggle. And yesterday, I discussed my ability to tweak basals & boluses like a pro.

My biggest problem, and something I'm still trying to figure out, is eating. Not carb counting. Just the act of eating. Remembering to eat. Eating often. Since I've started eating healthier (read: less stuff from a box/bag), I find myself struggling to put meals together. I did pretty well for a few weeks, but I fell off the eating wagon during the madness of the end of the semester. I promise I don't have an eating disorder. I actually have a deep love of food and a healthy appreciation of how I look. Are there a few stubborn pouches I'd like to get rid of? Definitely. Am I going to do it by starving myself? Definitely not. 

I just get wrapped up my work and by the time my stomach is grumbling, I'm too lazy to find something healthy to nom nom nom on. And if it's not that healthy, I will usually eat it out of necessity but I'll be unhappy because I know I can do better. My blood sugar doesn't really complain since I've got my basal rates rocking steady, but my tummy grumbles like a hungry, over-sized Venus fly trap. I am more likely to grab a handful or almonds or some string cheese before chopping up some veggies and boiling up some brown rice. Snacks do not replace meals. My lack of willingness to take time out of my schedule for just cooking/eating is a problem. This is definitely something I can step up on. 

Tweak...Tweak...Ride!

Prompt #2: Living with diabetes (or caring for someone who lives with it) sure does take a lot of work, and it's easy to be hard on ourselves if we aren't “perfect”. But today it's time to give ourselves some much deserved credit. Tell us about just one diabetes thing you (or your loved one) does spectacularly! Fasting blood sugar checks, oral meds sorted and ready, something always on hand to treat a low, or anything that you do for diabetes. Nothing is too big or too small to celebrate doing well!


After nearly 15 years, I have become an expert at just making tiny adjustments.

Every day is different in terms of how often I check, how much I eat, and how well I count carbs, but as a whole I've made great strides in just accepting the hand that I'm dealt daily. That's not say that I never complain. My twitter feed is littered with #bgnow-s, #cgmnow-s, and the all important RAWRRRR-s. But overall as a whole, I keep my cool with diabetes by just making little adjustments to my routine on my own.

From early in my diabetes career to now, things have been different. I can't say that I remember the times during my early diagnosis where I shot up for a perfectly measured meal and was not allowed to leave food on my plate. It happened. Often. But those memories have migrated into that fuzzy far-way drawer of my brain. Everything was precise and rigid. Like the definition of insanity, I did the exact same thing every day and expected the same results.

Now, I make little adjustments like a pro. Sometimes I visualize my diabetes (personified as a squeaky pancreas) as a little crank motor. Busy schedule? Crank the lever a little to the left for a half turn of more food. Bad day with tons of stress? Crank the lever wayyy to the right for three full turns more of insulin. I'm extremely comfortable adjusting and waiting. Adjusting and waiting. Adjusting...and waiting some more. Very rarely do I freak out about what's going on and need to start from scratch. Pull out all the parts and clean up the grease before putting it all back together. To be honest, I can't really remember the last time I hit reboot. Like everything else, I just go with the flow and enjoy the ride as best I can.