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

Sick days are usually rough when you're trying to manage blood sugars. Whether it's a cold or a stomach bug, the stress, medicine, and unusual food intake can really wreak havoc on controlling levels.

 

Satuday morning, I came down with a stomach virus. This is the second one I've had this year, so I feel like I'm an expert at managing blood sugars when I can't keep anything down for hours.

 

I don't really keep an active sick day plan. I usually just make changes as needed. Being on the pump has made being sick so much easier since I can decrease or increase basals as necessary and prolong boluses just in case I can't keep food down.

 

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Some freaky viral sickness has infected our house. It started with No. 2 who had a terrible fever over Memorial Day weekend. Several days after she got better, The Mr. came down with it. Now, No. 1 is on the tail end of it, but sadly he will miss his last three days of third grade because of this stupid flu-like virus.

 

I've often said that while I don't want to see my children sick, it's better for a well mom to take care of sick kids than for a sick mom to take care of well kids. That's up for debate, especially since my kids are getting to the point where they're fairly self-sufficient and if I were laid out on the couch No. 1 and No. 2 would be able to take care of No. 3. (I should say that The Mr. isn't a slacker, he works two of every three weekends, so when I'm home alone with the kids it's usually because The Mr. is working.)

 

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I left work early today.  I never ever do that. 

 

But 3 hours into my day, I felt just plain awful.  Headachey, exhausted awful.  I was running a temperature too - right around 100 degrees - which is even higher for me than a normal person because my temp typically runs in the high 96s/low 97s.  So I left work and came home.  And I went to bed at noon.  I slept for 11 hours.  I can't remember the last time I did that. 

 

Now, I'm awake, but I don't think for long.  I'm exhausted still and heading back to bed in a short while.  

 

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I'm the kind of person who, no matter how horrible I feel, at least attempts to get out of bed to go to work. It's a philosophy that stems from my childhood when my parents told us that if we weren't barfing and didn't have a fever we were going to school. If we still felt bad after we got there then we could call them and we'd talk.

 

It's a philosophy that has served me well. At least I think so. And I've happily passed this philosophy on to my children. I don't think I'll ever forget the day that No. 1 woke up with an upset stomach and I told him he at least had to try to eat breakfast. Yeah, he barfed. Nice job, Michelle!

 

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The fun never ends around here. Olivia woke up at three o'clock this morning. She puked on the floor in her room. She puked down the hall way. She puked all over the bathroom. And herself. Poor kid - she was miserable.

Of course, this woke up both little girls - I'm running up and down the stairs, fetching towels and the mop and trying to keep the two babies from yelling the house down. Boo calmed down quickly and went back to sleep. The Bug, who is The World's Lousiest Sleeper (TM), was up, but quiet. And here I am, in my t-shirt, freezing, mopping the floors. Fun.

Olivia showered as I schlepped the puked-upon clothing and towels down to the cellar. Back upstairs again to get her into bed, with the puke bowl. A quick blood sugar check - she was 199, which I didn't correct, given the amount she threw up - and we both went back to bed.
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I have a sore throat.   And I feel something, like a cold, coming.  I'm hot in a room that's not hot, clammy, and I'm tired.

 

I went to the gym today anyhow, all sneezy and gross.  If I'd been another gym-goer, I would have been annoyed with someone like me.  Someone spreading their germs while getting their 45 minutes of cardio and 15 minutes of weight training.

 

The truth is, I don't get sick all that often.  I have little threats of a cold coming or a belly ache threatening, but I usually fend it off with rest, a day home from work to sleep, water, and a little bit of cold or stomach calming medicine. 

 

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I am still not feeling quite right. My stomach is upset off and on. And since Sunday, I've had an almost constant feeling of emptiness or irritation inside my abdomen. Eating is not on my list of likes at the moment. Neither is diabetes.

 

With not eating normal meals plus the stress of my three interviews, I've changed my insulin some. Mainly, I've skipped or lessened some of what I'm taking to avoid lows or the feeling of being low even when I'm 200. I finally dropped below 200 yesterday, yet bounced back to 300 this morning.

 

I am quite sick. Of this stomach thing. Of high blood sugars. Of taking insulin. I am quite sick of living on a regimen or feeling so dependent on what my body decides to do with my day. I am quite sick of how diabetes and nausea and malaise run my life.

 

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Ben dangled awkwardly and hung from my arm like it was a rope swing before flopping to the floor of the roller rink.  His first time on wheels. Yes, Susanne, if you’re reading this. I Purell-ed him.

 

Charlie is a blue blur in his New York Giants shirt, zipping in and out; pumping his arms and weaving around the other skaters.  Tending to Ben, I lose sight of Charlie in the ever-moving crowd. The music is loud.

 

“I gotta feeling … that tonight’s gonna be a good night …”

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It's bad enough to get sick-any kind of sick-but add diabetes into the mix and you can have a real problem on your hands.
I've been sick only a handful of times since I was diagnosed. And when I say sick, I mean the kind of sick that keeps you from eating and leaves you laid up in bed for a couple days. It wasn't long after I was diagnosed that one of the kids got sick and I kept wondering when it would hit me. And then I realized that I literally didn't know what to do with myself if I did get sick. I didn't know what to expect from my blood sugar or how to manage it. (READ MORE)

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Diabetes is a unique disease in many ways.

 

One way that I never really realized until recently is the guilt it places on the patient.

 

With other diseases, your doctor is in control of everything. Your medicine, how often you take it, and how much. But with Diabetes, the patient is the one who has to manage it. So when there is a problem, the patient gets blamed.

 

But is that fair? Sure, I know that I decide if I am going to take my insulin on time, or bolus correctly. I am the one who either chooses to exercise or not and eat healthy foods or not. Those are up to me.

 

But, tell me this, who is to blame when I take my insulin correctly, exercise, do everything right, and for no reason my blood sugar is 270?

 

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