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"What's the matter," my husband wanted to know as I fell into a well-needed hug last night.
"Blech. My period's kicking my ass and it's not even here yet," I blurted.
To be absolutely frank, I loathe what my period does to my diabetes management. Yesterday I was doing absolutely excellent-for a while that is. I had a semi-high fasting of 150, but after a walk and two hours I was down to a respectable 114. Two hours later I tested at 70 and enjoyed a snack even though I wasn't really hungry. Barely two hours later I was ready for lunch and tested at 107, which I was very happy with.
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Scanning the aisles of the grocery store, I was looking for something brownie-ish. As usual, I was assaulted by the donut counter as soon as I walked in the door (location, location, location!). But with no chocolate cake donuts with chocolate icing, it was easy for me to walk past. I quickly perused the bakery area for something tantalizing, and was actually pleased that nothing struck my fancy.
I have learned lately that when I have a craving I have to be very specific with myself or I wind up eating more that I bargained for because I'm not satisfied. So I can't go after something that's "just chocolate." I have to consider texture, temperature and portion size.
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I nearly ran over myself coming downstairs after putting the kids to bed last night. It was shortly after 8 p.m. and I had had a chocolate craving all day. Actually, I had been craving carbs all day. Chewy and sweet was what I was after. And, I wanted brownies. Fudge brownies. When I have a craving, it's bad. I haven't had one this bad in a long time.
"Mmmm, don't you want some ice cream?" I prodded my husband.
"No, I'm not an ice cream-aholic like you are," he said. I was disappointed. I thought I could have convinced him to join me in some indulgence.
I didn't need it anyway, I thought to myself, so it's just as well that he didn't want that hot fudge sundae I had been talking about earlier. But, man, this desire to eat was absolutely intense. So I sat down on the couch with a box of Fruit Loops.
"I thought that medicine made you not hungry," my husband said, joining me on the couch.
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I hit "ESC" on Toohey to double check when my last bolus was. Yep, right on time. I suspect I'll be slightly high since I changed my site this morning and had a fast-food breakfast. But when I see 304 I'm shocked. I squeezed out another glob of blood and checked again. This time 302. Son of a f*%#ing b*&%h!
I had taken 9.5 units to correct for a hideous fasting (which is why I changed my site a day early; I'd been running high since I put that site in on Sunday morning) and for the excessive amount of carbs I was eating for breakfast. I had even logged on to the restaurant's web site for nutrition information before bolusing.
I'm so livid now that I can't finish doing what I was doing. I can't think. What the hell is wrong? Two things came to mind:
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For years I was a smoker. I smoked a pack a day at the very least for 15 years. Addiction is powerful.
I finally kicked that habit but realized that nicotine is not the only drug I am addicted to. The other is much easier to get and I am not sure I want to quit it yet.
Caffeine.
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Diabetes has made me a hypochondriac. Every ache, every pain, every change is some condition, disease or syndrome. Now typically I don't truly believe I have any of the things I so often "self-diagnose," but I have to admit that I am constantly living in the shadow of my diabetes.
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I live with an emotional eater. I know when he's had a bad day by the empty pint of Ben & Jerry's. I know he's had a God awful day when there's empty pints. So I was intrigued by the title of last week's
"I Can Make You Thin".
If you've watched any of the commercials for the show, you've probably seen people tapping themselves on different spots of their body. It looks ridiculous. Absurd, actually. Well, that's the technique
Paul McKenna teaches to overcome emotional eating.
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Sometimes I joke that my self-worth is wrapped up in my eyebrows; when they're well groomed, I feel great, but when they need to be tamed, I think I'm ugly. These days, my self-worth is wrapped up in my blood sugar readings. And I'm not sure that's a good thing.
Do you ever do that? The day is going along fine, then you get a reading that you don't "deserve" and the day just falls to pot? It's happening to me more and more lately. Some days, even before I lift my head off the pillow, the day is "ruined" by a high fasting number. My mind starts racing to what I did (or didn't do) to "earn" such a high number. Did I eat something I shouldn't have last night? Did I not exercise enough? It's first thing in the morning and already I'm feeling bad, guilty, like I did something wrong. Even if I hadn't.
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I am up 1 pound from a month ago. I've been up as high as 3 pounds and as low as 2 pounds down. Truth be told, it's more like 6 weeks I have been doing this yo-yo trick up and down that 5 pound range.
I've been fairly good about logging my food. The days that the log stops at lunch are the problem. The afternoon snack attacks are sabotaging my efforts. I feel helpless to stop them. It's really detrimental to be feeling this way.
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