Rollercoasters Bring More than Fear

This is a post I've been working on for a while...and despite that, I ask for your patience with the ungraceful writing. I just want to get this out. Shout. Shout. Shout it all out. Right?

I'm terrified of heights. Everyone wonders how I rock climb and enjoy the big metal rides of steel. Once I test my climbing anchors with a full lap, understand the safety mechanisms, and watch someone do it, the fear melts away like butter. Monkey see, Monkey do. (Goes very well with "See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil." but I digress...)

When the rollercoaster changes in unexpected ways and my safety mechanisms don't work, I get very upset. When I was younger, I'd be able to tell a low was coming when I got to 75 mg/dl just by a little nudging feeling inside me with some light shaking and perspiring. In the last two years, I've become very dependent on my robotic paraphenalia aka my Dexcom Continuous Glucose Monitor aka Eggy.

This week I had a monster low. Eggy was unhelpful, because it was reading confuzzled with the ??? staring back at me. I didn't feel it. I didn't see it. I didn't hear it, taste it, or smell it. I didn't realize it at all until I stabbed my finger before leaving my apt to drive into school (PSA for the day: Always test before you drive). It. This crazed monster of the low bloodsugar variety. Hypoglycemia. The thing that makes every cell in my body silently scream without hope for a solution.

The signs change. The feelings. The nudges.

It started with some lethargy. A bout of nasty nasty depression question whether or not grad school was the wrong choice for me. Ensuing panic. Freezing cold.

All I knew was that I felt wrong. I felt unlike myself but I couldn't do anything about it. I felt this way (at varying levels) for at least 4 hours. I put my to-do-list on hold and seriously questioned one of the largest undertakings I've committed myself to accomplish. Graduate school is not something to undertake lightly kids. No tears. No screaming. No sweat. Just a quiet but persistent inquisition. I honestly believed I should just give up on everything I spent more than a third of my life on for a solid few hours.

I've come to expect lethargy and anger with a high. Not with a low. Lows are supposed to be urgent. Unseasonably warm. Loud. Metallic tasting. Making the energy inside me feel like I'm going to explode. like every little blood cell is bouncing off my capillaries vibrating and hunting for the last molecule of glucose.

Dear diabetes, it's not cool when you change the rules. It's not cool when you make me wonder if I'm me first or you first. It's not cool when I begin to question my sanity. It's not cool when I have to scrutinize my emotions and decisions for the lingering presence of sugar effects. Sometimes, I want my body to belong wholly to me and not to the monsters created by the absence of a single hormone: Insulin. Hear me RAWR. I won't let you take over my life like this.

The Bad Kind of Comfortable

Since I've acquired my Eggster (aka my Dexcom Continuous Glucose Monitor), I've also noticed a bad trend.

I'm more comfortable with lows.

I'm less scared until hypoglycemia really, really hits me at a 40 mg/dl or even a 30 mg/dl.

I'm more complacent about letting my blood sugar chill in the lows 70s and high 60s. (everything about that statement makes me feel like a diabetes weather forecaster)

In reality, this has nothing do with Eggy and more to do with me. I don't know why I'm so unphased by lows but completely terrified of the lethargy that sets in with highs (read: leaded limbs and instant naptime). I'm sure it has to do with my insulin sensitivity. The longer your blood sugar is low: the more your body adapts to that environment. It's bad. I like my brain cells and my insides. I don't want them to slowly die off because I'm happier experience a mild low than a mild high. Eggy should be helping me out with that. But instead he's just begging me to do something with each buzz, and I just let him buzz away.

The worst is that I know that this is a major issue for working out and studying. I need to be in tip-top shape to be performing at my best. Exercising while low and studying while low have the same results. NOTHING GOOD.

What am I doing to remedy this? I'm lowering the low blood sugar alarm on my dex from 80 mg/dl to 70 mg/dl. Because when it buzzes and I'm rocking out at 78 mg/dl, I'm wayyy less likely to pay attention to it until it gives me the quadruple buzz at 55 mg/dl. Here's to hoping for some positive momentum to get back to a good kind of comfortable.

Can't Get Out of My View?

So today I spent about 7 hours in my car. I made a point of putting in a new Dexcom sensor just after breakfast, because as awesome as testing at 70 mph hour is (shh, don't judge) it's really hard to accomplish.

Unfortunately, regardless of my fairly spotless record with Dexcom's accuracy, today did not reassure me that it works well. My Egg-shaped-friend (Eggy for those of you who are friends) beeped away ALL day. 2 of the 35 times were actually correct. The rest were waaaaaaaaaaaaay outta whack. But because I stopped trusting it, I missed the really bad one this evening.

After my 7 hour drive, my mom requested that I attend a dinner party at the neighbors. Drive, dress, dine (wheeeeeeee, not). Dinner was quite fabulous even though I didn't eat very much. I was much more enamored by all the little kids around, but I digress.

Most of the riveting conversation of the evening revolved around the children's food allergies and the struggles that they bring. I listened intently and gently prodded about difficult moments. Having diabetes changes my relationship with food, but exclusionary diets are extremely painstaking to maintain especially when those food cause life threatening reactions. Everyone was sympathetic, but only the two moms of kids with allergies REALLY got it.

Later, the conversation turned to fashion. Particularly, my custom "culturally" appropriate pants with pockets. Most Pakistani pants are baggy and don't include pockets. My mom had to pay the tailor extra for each one, but I was rather happy to have somewhere to put Eggy and my cell phone. That was when the conversation turned to "You're diabetic? Explain ALL of it." Usually, I over explain it but I did my best to squeeze in the vital information before dessert was served. Then, I casually walked over and explained how carb-counting worked. Fairly normal for me to SWAG (Scientific Wild Ass Guess) the carbs in a homemade dessert. I looked and sounded very convincing. I felt convincing. UNTIL, an hour later when I was tucking myself into bed.

PJs? Check. Brushed Teeth? Check. Blood sugar? I kept putting it off. I kept reading things on my phone and started getting this strange sensation of tunnel focus (just off the tip of my nose). I heard Eggster buzzing away but ignored him because of his track record. The feeling of tunnel focus was starting to make me uneasy so I pulled out my Mini and tested to find a fabulous (not) reading of 33 mg/dl. Eggy says nothing but Low (dun dun dunnnn). And then it all started to make sense. I ran downstairs for a tall glass of orange juice. Waited 15 minutes. 45 mg/dl. Not quite right. More orange juice followed by some rice cause (surprise!) I was STARVING.

In the end, the story has a happy ending. I leveled out nicely to a 110 mg/dl after it was all said and done. The scary feeling was the knowing something was wrong but my lack of ability to do anything about it. It's been happening more and more with my lows and I don't know how to snap out of it. My focus was fixed but not on what I needed to survive but some little lighted screen in the palm of my hand. Gotta fix that. Gotta listen. There are always signs. Little breadcrumbs. Gotta follow them to keep my life with D on track for survival.

Feel It Coming

Funny tidbit: Blogger only let's me update html post from my phone. Weird but I'm just happy to be writing despite no "real" broadband internet til Friday.

Anyways! Today is day one of unpacking into my new place. Let's just say that I'd rather be anywhere else doing anything else. So I kinda chalked up my lack of motivation to distaste for the task instead of low blood sugar.

Normally, I'm as bright eyed and bushy tailed as everyone else (and sometimes more so). Today, I experienced that slow, losing steam at the cracks sort of feeling. Arms that felt like lead made me think that maybe I just needed to relax for a few minutes on my bed and troll the web for something exciting to read. Somewhere, the better half of my conscience said, "It could be a falling number." But I looked at my CGM and saw a flat arrow at about 90 and decided it really was just too much moving stuff around.

Gradually, I became more and more tired, like a gradual fog settling in on the folds of my brains. I said to myself, "This kind of feels like a mild low. I should test. Where's my meter?" That notion was immediately battled by my inner child with a very whiney (sans cheese), "I don't want to. Please don't make me get up. I'm comfy."

That should've been my sign. But no. I kept reading and putzing. Meandering from site to site until I got really sleepy and suddenly Eggy buzzed loudly in my ear. 52 and slanty down arrow. Got up and tested to find a 49 waiting for me. I actually ate 6 glucose tabs (21g), set an alarm for 15 minutes for the recheck, and started to wait for that feeling of preparedness to come back.

Instead, I started zoning out while thinking of bookshelves and grocery lists. Luckily, I set a 15 minute timer on my phone because apparently I fell asleep on my comfy little airbed otherwise I would've missed the second reading of 49 on my little black OneTouch Mini.

I worry about my meter and my sanity when I see the same number. I always question myself as to whether I really ate those glucose tabs or whether that was low bg hazy delirium. And if it's a high, I ask myself, "Did I really push the ACT button?" and immediately pull out my pump to check the last bolus. The worst cases are late at night but sometimes it happens between meals and really freaks me out, because I know my body. I know there's no way my sugar levels have been at a constant for 4 or 5 hours after eating sometime. Is there such as thing as diabetes coincidences? Or does my meter just have an affinity that day for that particular number? This post makes me think that might just be a possibility.