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We found 10 result(s) that match your search "nerves":

I've got that nervy, kinda sick feeling.  A type of cold feet, but all in my mind.  Maybe it's butterflies I feel, but it's not really in my tummy.  I'm dreading the stop on the scale on the way back to the tiny little interview (maybe I should call it interrogation, that seems more accurate) room.

 

It's Endo-Nerves.  Tomorrow is my endocrinologist visit.  It's only been a couple months, but with my impending insurance (maybe I should call it un-surance) upheaval, I'm going in a few weeks early.  

 

This may be the last time I go to this particular doctor (maybe I should call her Physcian's Assistant, that seems much more accurate).  Since I won't be commuting up to work following my lay-off, it's really silly to consider driving over an hour each way to see this highly rated and very popular specialist (and his minions, AKA PAs).  

 

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I went to bed early enough to get eight hours of sleep the night before surgery. Before I fell asleep, my blood sugar was 168. I lowered by bolus by about 20%. I set an alarm for 3:45 am (9 hours pre-op) and an alarm for eight (to call the doctor's office). Not too long after, I was fast asleep (thankfully!)

 

At 3:45am, my blood sugar was 185. I ate 45 grams of carbs and bolused for both the correction and food. I decreased the bolus by 15%. I set my basals to decrease by 30% at 8am, since that would put me at 5 hours pre-op and awake (and nervous!).

 

When I woke up at 8am though, my blood sugar was 233. I bolused, lowering it by 40%. I called the doctor's office to confirm my pre-op instructions and ask about my basal rates before I came in for surgery. The nurse told me that the oral surgeon wanted me to keep my basal rates at a normal level. If my blood sugar dropped, I was only to treat with Sprite.

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My blood sugar is currently at 384. I just stare at the number. My mind trying not to fathom what those digits represent. I checked my blood sugar because I wanted to enjoy the cookie that I saved from dinner. Now I stare at this cookie, taunting me, telling me how my life is going to be. It looks so yummy with its million chocolate chips and golden brown hue. But those numbers tell me that my cookie will have to wait. (READ MORE)

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There are certain situations where I know that I need to reduce my basal and accurately judge carbs unless I want to end up in a fit of lows. Tonight was one of those situations.

 

My nerves always get to me, so I lowered my basal for the next four hours by 0.30. I ate a small dinner and took a square bolus (not for the type of food) but because I knew that the bolus up front would send me crashing. I assumed I'd be fine, if not a little elevated by the end of the night.

 

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I was on day four of my site. The longest I had gone with a site so far. Fasting was 275. Ouch. I checked twice just to be sure. Either three days for a site was my limit or I was super nervous about the medical tests I was to undergo later in the day. It could have also had something to do with the ice cream night cap I had the night before, but I'm more inclined to think it was nerves since my two-hour post breakfast reading was just as disgusting. (READ MORE)

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Right now, I'm a complete bundle of nerves. Last night, I suddenly decided that today I would go off the pump. I know that I've been talking about it, but I assumed that I'd get it all straightened out and be back into "normalcy" before April 1st came around.

 

But you'd be surprised to find that poor control is actually NOT the reason why I'm going off the pump. In the past two weeks, I've had some highs and far fewer lows (which is just amazing). My averages are still in the 150 range though, which is what I'd settle for to get down to the 130 range (slowly, without lows).

 

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So, as predicted, my blood sugar was lowish most of Friday morning. In fact, I believe my fasting was under 90, so I had to eat a granola bar before going for my walk. I stayed under 100 until lunch time.

 

It was totally crazy. Thank you stress and nerves!

 

I knew I'd need some complex carbs to get me through the afternoon without going low. So I went for my favorite soft pretzel spot for lunch. So, so yummy. And so, so rough on my blood sugar. I can usually count on hanging out in the 200s for about five or six hours no matter what I do when I have one of those pretzels.

 

Just before leaving for the doctor's office, I checked my sugar and was around 240. I really hadn't wanted to be that high, but was slightly comforted knowing that I wouldn't go low during the procedure.

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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. (READ MORE)

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With guests in our office, we went to the local Mexican restaurant for lunch on a Thursday. My Novolog pen was tucked nicely in the long, front pocket of my purse, which was sitting on the chair next to me. I had tested prior to leaving for the restaurant, so I felt confident that I didn't need to bring my meter with me. We ordered and started munching on the chips and salsa placed on the table in front of us.
I discreetly pulled the pen from my purse in anticipation of my lunch showing up and held it in my lap under the table. One click for the corn chips, one (maybe two?) for the beans, two for the rice. Sigh, the chimichanga is made with a flour tortilla. And cheese. Lots of cheese. I wildly guessed what I should take for the whole shebang.
Back at the office, I struggled to remember what time I had started eating. We'd been gone for about 90 minutes, but I thought it had only been roughly an hour since I took the Novolog. (READ MORE)

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