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I brought my new daughter home from the hospital in mid-June. Along with all the other exciting developments in our lives - I got to pack away my insulin syringes.
I am a Type 2 diabetic. I developed gestational diabetes with my son 4 years ago and did not make the lifestyle changes warranted after his birth. It's thought as many as 60% of women with gestational diabetes will eventually develop Type 2. 18 months later I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. I am controlled with metformin (oral medication), diet and exercise.
By the 4th month of this pregnancy, I required insulin to keep my sugars within targets. Pregnancy targets are much stricter than non-pregnancy Type 2 levels - less than 90 fasting, less than 120 2 hours post-prandial. (READ MORE)

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While in Mexico, my previous pleasant numbers took a turn for the worst. My averages jumped from 130 to 170. Despite proactive measures and many reactive measures, I could not seem to control any of my blood sugars.

 

My blood sugars ran fine the first two days. I actually ended up low for the majority of the time, so I lowered my basal. We were walking all over the city, in the heat for extended periods of time, and eating at unusual times (11 pm for dinner).

 

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As many of you have read this week in my other blogs, I have had a lot going on. I have a very important job interview today and besides that many people I know have been dealing with a variety of health issues. One issue that is very personal and by far the most important is that my very own Poppa has some stuff going on. I was reluctant to share this information with everyone until I got a better idea myself of what exactly was happening.

At this point, I am extremely thankful, but it appears he will be ok. We still don't know a whole lot right now, but ultimately we did learn that he will begin taking medication for type 2 diabetes. My dad will began taking the medication called Metformin, due to having very high blood sugars. I am so unbelievably thankful that we have caught this early enough that hopefully he will continue to remain healthy.
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Over the summer, I developed a regular workout routine that helped me lose weight and maintain better blood sugars. When I got back to school, I set out to do the same. But after a couple weeks of doing well, my routine quickly dwindled to become non-existent.

 

I gained two pounds back and my averages are definitely not as stable as they were over the summer. Yet I can't seem to motivate myself to get to the gym. I could make the time, if I truly wanted to, so it isn't like it's impossible. And I have two workout buddies that are there any time I want to.

 

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Blah, blah, blah, here she goes again, pissing and moaning about logging.

Back when the year was shiny and new, as opposed to snow-covered and grubby (and enough with the snow already, ok? I'm SICK of it. Sick.) I resolved to be more diligent about logging Olivia's blood sugars. And for a few weeks I was. And then I forgot for a couple of days. And then it was Thursday and I thought, well, I'll just start over on Monday. And I forgot again.

I've logged in fits and starts over the last 2 months, but mostly, I haven't logged at all. And now she has an endo appointment tomorrow and I'm not going to have that much information to give her and I'm pissed at myself.

I just don't know how to make myself log. I forget. And if I'm forgetting to log, how am I supposed to teach Olivia? I'm not setting a good example at all and they always tell you (who are they anyway?) that you should lead by example when it comes to your kids.
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For me, the desire to live to 100 is all about quality of life. Frankly, living to any age is about quality of life.
I don't know that I considered my mortality much until I was diagnosed with diabetes. I was 30 when I was diagnosed. Which means that at the traditional retirement age, I will have lived with diabetes for 35 years. That's a pretty long time. Live 20 years past retirement, and diabetes will have been part of my life for more than half a century.
One of the toughest parts of living with diabetes for me are the intangibles--I feel fine now, but that doesn't mean that my internal organs or my eyes aren't feeling the strain of high blood sugars and extended periods of time living with a chronic disease. (READ MORE)

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Side effects.
It wasn't long after The Mr. brought home my steroids, muscle relaxers and pain killers that I started feeling really tingly and very, very sleepy. As directed, I took three steroid pills, two muscle relaxers and two pain killers. That was quite possibly the most fun I've ever had while not being able to move.
When I finally came to, my biggest problem (other than not really being able to move without severe pain in my back) was a terrible, terrible thirst. I drained my water bottle over and over, and still wasn't quenched. I had The Mr. bring me a soda every chance I could just so I could attempt to beat the thirst.
The drugs along with my body trying to heal itself were making my sugar go through the roof. Three days after this all started--at dinner time--was the first time since I fell that my blood sugar was in range. I actually went low this morning. (READ MORE)

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On Thursday, Olivia asked me if she could spend Friday night at a friend's house. I said yes, but told her that she had to call home at some point on Friday evening and call again on Saturday morning to let us know when she wanted to be picked up.

I didn't get any phone call until noon on Saturday. I had gone out Friday night, but my husband was home with the two little ones. Normally, I would just get on her case a little bit about it and leave it alone. That was before I checked her meter and pump today.

She didn't check her blood sugar after 5 p.m. on Friday night and only checked THREE times on Saturday. Three. We typically check between 8 and 12 times a day, every day, depending on what's going on. I very nearly blew a gasket over that one.
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On Thursday, Olivia asked me if she could spend Friday night at a friend's house. I said yes, but told her that she had to call home at some point on Friday evening and call again on Saturday morning to let us know when she wanted to be picked up.

I didn't get any phone call until noon on Saturday. I had gone out Friday night, but my husband was home with the two little ones. Normally, I would just get on her case a little bit about it and leave it alone. That was before I checked her meter and pump today.

She didn't check her blood sugar after 5 p.m. on Friday night and only checked THREE times on Saturday. Three. We typically check between 8 and 12 times a day, every day, depending on what's going on. I very nearly blew a gasket over that one.
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Why is it that I can remain much calmer than those around me when it comes to diabetes? I can manage a low with ease, while my mom or my friend will freak out on me. No matter the severity, the past, or the person, it just seems I can keep composure better than them.

 

Last night, my mom and I went out for our usual walk. I had worked out earlier in the day, so I knew my blood sugar would probably be an issue. I cut my insulin back and drank a juice half way through the walk. Not long after, I felt the low coming on full force. It was bad, I knew that. Inside my own mind, I was thinking that I just needed to make it around the next part of the walk so we would be closer to the house.

 

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