4
Nov

13? Balderdash, says I!

Welcome, ladies and gents. It is November 4th, meaning that we are 4 day in to Diabetes Month.
For today, I would like to give you a glimpse into the frustration that comes along with this big ball of autoimmune-related shit called Diabetes.
Ketones start spilling out into urine at a BG of 13 mmol/L. This is a well-documented fact, check the American Diabetes Association or similar sites to confirm. 
So why, then, does a BG like this:

CGM reading of 12.8

CGM this morning


Confirmed via fingerstick:

BG meter value of 12.3

BG via meter


Produce ketones that look like THIS:?!

Ketone stick measuring high ketones

PURPLE ketone stick


Please excuse me, I'll be spending the rest of the day suppressing the urge to scream while mindlessly beating my head against a wall out of frustration.

3
Sep

22 years

September 3rd makes me angry.

It's not intentional, but it's a problem. Maybe.

Have you noticed I'm not too thrilled about this year's dia-versary?

Last year when my diabetes turned 21 I picked a fight on twitter with a local Doctor-slash-media-darling and his followers who were commenting on a promotion by a fast-food restaurant (Dairy Queen, I think) who was donating a percentage of ice cream sales to JDRF.
This guy is a huge proponent of balanced plant-based diets and exercise, and is (it seems/if his book sales are any indication) a beloved member of the community in my city. I followed him on twitter because my Nancy is a fan of his work, and up until a year ago, I was as well.

On Sept the 3rd of 2014 I was waiting at work for some processing to run, I scrolled through my twitter feed and saw this comment. I saw red; my vision literally clouded over and I felt blind-sided by the rage that had built swiftly and with a vengeance. I was furious -- he was essentially saying that by choosing to purchase food products from a retailer who serves sugary snacks, despite this restaurant donating part of their proceeds to JDRF, the buyer was contributing to a diabetes epidemic.

I called him out, as well as some of his followers. I spent a lot of that day trying to explain to randos on the internet how hurtful and cruel their comments were.  I think that day was the first time I realized how difficult it is to express yourself in 140 characters or less, and I'm not sure I managed to convince anyone to change their minds on the issue.

Despite this, I remain convinced that my inability to clearly articulate my argument does not make me wrong.

This year I haven't gone on any internet-rampages; rather, I found my mood sitting somewhere in the "I dare you to fuck with me" realm.
I hate this. I hate diabetes. I hate how upsetting I find it and I hate how angry it sometimes makes me. I hate how there are days where I am so frustrated with trying to stay alive that I honestly and truly believe I might just give up, just lose the ability to continue to try, consequences be damned.

It crosses my mind every time I bolus for a large meal that unless I eat, I have likely just given a lethal dose of a medication. Sometimes this balancing act feels all but impossible.

 

None of this is coming out as I want it to, but that's about the norm as far as my diabetes-related-feelings go.

10
Mar

Arm-sensor placement

Hello, ladies and gentlemen!  I would like to present to you... (drum roll please):

The WORST placement I've been able to find for an arm-sensor (...so far).

image

Forearm Sensor

The forearm is a terrible place for a sensor!

- It hurts
- It is sitting in muscle
- Have I mentioned that it hurts?
- It gets in the way when driving, working, or pretty much any time you might wish to use an arm rest
- EVERYONE CAN SEE IT, so on a day when you'll be frustrated enough by the bloody thing, you will also be pestered by every well-meaning coworker who has never seen your sensor before and wants to know what it is

On the plus side, that accuracy here isn't terrible?

image

Argh.

My BG levels are, though (...terrible, I mean). I blame the not-bolusing-for-coffee this morning... Whoops!

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