A Mile in My Shoes

Sometimes the pieces fall in front of you in a way that shapes your path.

Being a sedentary adult had nothing to do with my diagnosis as a child with Type 1 Diabetes of course, but diabetes with the accompanying fears of hypoglycemia and the stress of managing glycemic control during exercise has everything to do with my being a sedentary adult.

The Diabetes Hands Foundation's community TuDiabetes.org helped me understand that I was not the only one struggling with my diabetes when I joined the social network in 2008 and has much to do with my two successful pregnancies and my outlook on diabetes today.

DHF's program Diabetes Advocates has allowed me to become a voice for patients and those touched by diabetes, and my blog Sweetly Voiced has allowed me to extend my reach and tell my story.

But something has been missing. I've still been afraid of exercise. I make a lot of excuses. I am afraid to do it alone, clueless as to how to accomplish being active while caring for two kids under the age of 4 at home alone all day, and always confused about how to manage the delicate balance of insulin and activity.

DHF has another program though - the Big Blue Test - which has proven to me that just a FEW minutes of activity can lower my blood sugar. Type 1 diabetes is incredibly challenging, sure, but if I could take a little less insulin, I'd have fewer hypo excursions. And if I could make my body just a little more efficient, I could have fewer hyper excursions. Just a little.

And that has taught me a lot.

The final lace in my shoe is that, as an attendee of the DiabetesMine Patient Voices Innovation Summit, I received a complimentary Misfit Shine fitness tracker courtesy of Target. Point taken, universe.

For the next 5 weeks, I commit to walking 10 MILES a week. Though it will likely be a well-worn route to and from a local park with my little ones, it will be an emotional journey, a physical challenge as I avoid hypoglycemia (while pushing a double stroller) and as I learn what does and doesn't work in my planning, and it will be the very first time I've done something else - ask for your support. Yes, you.

As I walk these 50 miles, I'm asking my friends, family, and acquaintances to help me reach my goal of raising $1,000 for the Diabetes Hands Foundation. For every dollar I raise, that's another dollar that we at the Foundation can put toward reaching more people who used to be like I was, helping more people who are just like me, and amplifying the efforts of those who are committed to making the world a better place for people who are struggling.

Will you help me put some miles on these bad boys?

Low Point

Memories - Wednesday 5/15 Link List

Today's Prompt: Today we’re going to share our most memorable diabetes day. You can take this anywhere.... your or your loved one's diagnosis, a bad low, a bad high, a big success, any day that you’d like to share. (Thanks to Jasmine of Silver-Lined for this topic suggestion.)

This is the story of my most epic overtreat.

I had to be 12 or 13 years old. My mom was in charge of orchestrating local Cub Scout leader trainings for much of my childhood. Saturdays were often spent keeping myself entertained in some empty community room of some local church while watching the adults buzz around doing their thing. I'd help carry supplies in and out, help sign people in at the registration table, help keep the donut and juice table stocked.

Well, I was alone, I was low, and Domino's had just delivered dozens of pizzas for lunch.

You see where this is going.

Caught Red-Handed

Fear Itself

With the new year, rather than make any sort of resolution, I asked myself to be more aware of my fear. If I also prove to be a bit braver, that'll be great, but first, I just wanted to acknowledge fear.

I'm a bold person. You wouldn't immediately recognize my fears. I'm not afraid of people or performing or heights. Many people see me as courageous, outspoken.

But I have a not-so-public fear.

A Belt Full of Sugar

Hubster has been out of town all week.

I'm used to being alone with my little ones all day, running around with the two mommy groups I'm in, prepping meals, teaching voice lessons, etc.

But I'm not used to being alone with my diabetes overnight. It's been a long time.

I've lived all by myself twice in my life - once my junior year of college in a dormitory and then for five months in my mid-twenties between roommates in an apartment. I remember the panic of a middle of the night low blood sugar. The wake in a sweat and hope you can crawl to the cupboard kind of panic that used to grip me. I used to keep a basket of snacks next to my bed before I had a toddler who'd eat them all.

Now I sleep sandwiched between my two precious charges. And I have to admit that I worry.

The first night he was gone, I put my Dexcom in my Spibelt (a small personal item belt meant for runners) and filled the extra space in the pouch with glucose Quick Sticks.

It was the closest I could get to sleeping with handfuls of sugar.

And sure enough...

Dibbs stirred at 5am and I checked my Dexcom sleepily. 82--->. Hmm. Probably dropping, should probably...zZzzzZzzz...

I went back to sleep. Hubster texted.

I slept on.

Dibbs made another noise at 7:25am and my eyes popped open.

Dexcom read 44--->. I reached over for my Verio meter. 60 mg/dL. I unzipped my spibelt and started downing glucose.

I'm ready for my Diabetic Alert Spouse to get home.

In a More Making Sense Kind of Way

My first official "vlog" and, of course, it's while suffering from low blood sugar symptoms. Brace yourselves for a ramble.

What I meant to say was that I knew that there would be a period of transition as I switch from a meter that's significantly lower than my actual blood sugar to one that reads slightly higher. What my body has adjusted to as "normal" now has to shift by 30-60 mg/dL.

Imagine being asked to move 10% more quickly for an entire day. Or drive 20 mph slower on every road. It's just off enough that your whole sense of reality is challenged.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I am a woman of action and needed to do something. So I asked for an Rx for One Touch Verio IQ strips and have been trying to just acclimate to its readings. For high numbers, it has meant a touch more insulin. That's not too big a deal. For numbers between 70-100 on the meter though, I am feeling low blood sugar symptoms that I shouldn't be feeling in that lovely non-diabetic range. My old meter would have clocked them as lows.

On days like today, alone with my children, I choose to cut myself a little slack. Symptomatic? Overtreat and accept consequences. It doesn't help me get to where I need to be...but it helps me get through where I am today.

Points of Contention

Weight Watchers is very D-friendly. While we as people with diabetes very frequently get turned away from programs like Jenny Craig and Nutrasystem, Weight Watchers will turn a blind eye. You'd think weight loss programs would cater to people with D. You hear about NutrasystemD specifically for people with D. Yeah, unless you have Type 1, use insulin, or use an insulin pump. Then they 'review' your health history, freak out, and want nothing to do with you.

So I've always respected Weight Watchers.

I adapt it to meet my needs though, working in incentives to handle my diabetes correctly in the process.

For instance, low blood sugars.

In the beginning, I remember wanting to exempt myself from the foods I ate to treat a low, thinking it was unfair to ask me to give up 'points' for food I wasn't eating by choice. But that's part of the problem. I was eating whatever I wanted to treat the low. I might have 2-3 lows a day and treat each with 2-4pts.

So I decided early on that, if I treat the low with glucose tabs, I may exempt it. If I treat with food, I have to count it. There have been two days this week where I ate food for the lows and watched a third of my daily points slip away on banana peels and crackers. And one day where I used glucose tablets and a juice box and lost a mere two points.

See my point?

Hubster argues that I'm still taking in calories, so I should count the glucose tabs, too. But it'd be too easy for me to turn my nose up at the tabs if they cost me my precious points.

This way, there is an incentive for me to treat with the tabs - which is the faster, smarter, grosser way to handle a low from the diabetes standpoint.

From a weight loss standpoint, it is highly doubtful that 60cal of fat free chalky tablets will be my downfall.

And from a motivation standpoint, I won't give up the program from resentment or burnout because I can insure that my points will be used for meals and snacks (like regular people).

That being said, it's hard. I had three lows Tuesday - a 49 upon waking, a 50 around 3:30p, and an I-didn't-check-because-I'm-busy-cooking-dinner around 7p. They cost me a juice box (2) and coffee (1), a banana (2) and 2 rice krispie treats (4), and another banana (2). 11 points. Ouch.

Wednesday was worse. I used at least 15 points to treat low blood sugars. And only reached for glucose once. =\

Today, I'll do better. I'll really try to do better. And maybe I'll start dialing back some of my insulin, too. Nobody should be low as often as I am. Sigh.

Disclaimer: I'm neither a medical professional nor a nutritional expert. Please pursue nutritional programs and make adjustments with the help and advice of your own medical team.

Dry Run

Today's Prompt: Six Sentence Story. In this day of micro-blogging, brevity is a skill worth honing. Can you tell a story and make it short and sweet? What can you say in six sentences.

Diabetes often requires extra consideration, extra preparation.

Some of my mom friends are planning a trip to the Dallas Zoo next week with their toddlers and I've been going back and forth about my ability to manage a heavy double stroller, a fussy newborn, a two-year-old flight risk, and my blood sugars in the Texas heat.

So Hubster and I decided to do a dry run this weekend to see what it would be like for me.

Checking my continuous monitor often, I caught one low blood sugar before I felt it (2 juice boxes - see left), watched a post-lunch high skyrocket to the 260s and made me feel like crap, and then couldn't catch the second low before it hit me like a hammer as we were ready to leave (2 more juice boxes).

I had trouble pushing the stroller up the steep hills, my plantar problems had me limping by the third hour, and Hubster chased our daughter hurtling herself through the crowd at least a dozen times.

While I like to think that diabetes doesn't stop me, sometimes all the juice boxes in the world aren't enough to stack the deck in my favor; I reluctantly changed my RSVP.

Dibbs at the zoo. 10 weeks old.

Disorient Express Lane

Today's Prompt: Learned the Hard Way. What’s a lesson you learned the hard way? Write about it for 15 today.

You'd think I'd have learned how to handle this by now.

I mean, I shop for groceries once a week. I have a tidy little list and a tight budget, a route through the store, a system.

Except where my blood sugar is concerned.

I start in the produce section hovering in the 130s or higher. By the end of the 45 minutes it takes me to complete my shopping, I'm struggling to make sense of what's happening at the cash register. My monitor is beeping.

The items ring up and I watch the total go $40 over my budget.

What do I do? Something looks wrong.

"Um, sorry, I...can I take a few things off?" "Sure, ma'am."

A sea of boxes and packages are in front of me.


What was I doing? Fuck, where is my kid? Oh, that's right. She's watching a cartoon on my phone in the cart. Where's my phone? Oh yeah, in the cart. What was I doing? He's looking at me. Oh yeah.

"Um, here. I don't need the granola bars. Or um, I guess the chocolate chips."

"What about the rice krispie treats? The other candy?" asks the overly helpful bag boy.


No, I need those for low blood sugars. Low blood sugars. I'm low.

"No, thanks. I'll keep those in."

The total drops only $10. I'm confused and embarrassed. Whatever. I swiped my card already, right? Where is my card? I put it back in my wallet. Where is my wallet? It's in my back pocket where I keep my phone. Fuck! Where is my phone? Where is my baby?! Oh, that's right. He's home with his daddy. Where is my phone? Argh! My toddler has it. Then what's in my back pocket? My wallet. I need to get out of here.

I start to roll the cart away.

"Um, ma'am? I need you to sign."

Nervous laughter. "Oh, gosh. Sorry. Silly me. Knew I had forgotten something."

That's a lie.

I walk back to the card reader and stare at the screen. What do I sign?

"Where am I signing?"

"It must have timed out. You need to swipe your card again."

Where is my card? Oh yeah, in my wallet. Where is my wallet? Did I put it in the diaper bag? I can't find my wallet. I need to call Hubster. Where is my phone? Oh, Sweetie has it. Then what's that in my pocket? Oh, my wallet. Why is he staring at me? Oh yeah, my card. In my wallet.

I swipe the card and sign for the groceries I've spent too much on.

"Would you like help out, ma'am?"

Embarrassed. Confused.

"No, I've got it. Thanks."

I reach for my glucose tabs and find only three left. Hurriedly chomp down the chalky tablets.

On this day, I don't get lost in the parking lot like I sometimes do. I know what my car looks like and where I parked and I even remember that my keys are in my left pocket.

I get to the car and get the bags in the backseat. Toddler still has my phone. More addled brain trying to figure out how to put cart up, get toddler out, get toddler in car...what's the right order? Somehow I figure it out.

I'm the lady standing outside of her car ripping a banana off the bunch and tearing into a bag of Reese's Pieces in front of her little kid. Shoveling all manner of crap in her face.

If you walk past me, it's likely you judge me as on some kind of binge while my two year old is engrossed in an iPhone app.

I can't drive until the arrows point back up. Don't wait for my parking space. It's just my weekly trip to the supermarket.

You'd think I'd have learned how to handle this by now.