Comments (5)

By shannon, August 25, 2010 9:26 am

I like change.  I’m one of those weird people who doesn’t like when things get too stagnant.  Change is good.  Right?

Tomorrow, I see Dr. S.  Yep, it’s time for a visit to the principal’s office.

I have mixed feelings about this.  I am looking forward to and dreading this appointment at the same time.   There will be no lab results; no A1c.  As always, I’ll be weighed (dreaded moment #1), BP checked (this shouldn’t be bad, but who knows?), and BG tested on their dinosaur meter, whose results are ALWAYS vastly different from mine.

We’re going to review my Dexcom reports (dreaded moment #2) and see what, if any, chances need to be made.

We will be making changes.  I have to make some changes.

I know he’s going to ask me about my weight gain (dreaded moment #3).  I have some good reasons for this: my sister’s death, fertility drugs, blah, blah, blah.  They’re all just bullshit excuses.  I’ve gained weight because I’ve been eating like crap and not exercising.  PERIOD.  

But, I feel so deep in this hole that I have no idea how to get out.  I was doing so well on Symlin, but it’s not safe during pregnancy, so I had to stop.  And it pisses me off because so many of the things I’m doing (or not doing) because they’re unsafe for pregnancy are probably for nothing. 

I have a point; I promise.

Starting today and for the foreseeable future, I’m going to be eating only low-carb foods.  No more pasta; no more fries.  I will not eat any of that stuff because it is my own personal kryptonite.  I’m going to stick to protein, fat, and veggies (of the uncooked variety – I loathe cooked vegetables)

I’m also going to ask Dr. S. about Metformin.  This is a big fear because Met is one of the meds I was given during my misdiagnosis fiasco. It did nothing for me except make me sick.  But, I’ve read that the XR version is much easier to tolerate, and at this point, I’m willing to try.  It’s also a pregnancy category B drug, which means that it’s probably safe (nothing is category A).

One of my biggest problems right now is my insulin intake.  I’ve definitely got some resistance happening, and it’s leading to much higher doses of insulin to cover basal and bolus needs, which is leading to more fat storage, which is leading to greater insulin needs, etc. It’s an endless cycle.

There’s got to be an easier way!

I have made no secret of my struggle with diabulimia. And there is this big voice in my head that’s telling me to just stop taking so much insulin.  Just take a small shot here and there to avoid DKA.  My weight would drop so quickly, and I’d feel great.  That’s the thing that makes it so appealing.  When I was restricting insulin, I felt fantastic.  Most of the time, I had no idea how high I really was, but it didn’t matter – I had tons of energy.  Now, I struggle just to get out of bed in the morning.

But, I won’t do it.  I’ve spent the past three years trying to maintain a decent A1c so that I can have a baby.  I’m not going to throw that all away now for a quick fix to my weight issues.  I want to.  But I won’t.

I have a plan, and I’m going to do my best to stick with it:

1. Eat low-carb
2. Take Metformin
3. Exercise

If anyone has any suggestions or words of wisdom, please, please share!

Comments (10)

By shannon, June 15, 2010 9:48 am

I love my endo.  I know I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating. 

Let me back up.  Yesterday, I had my usual quarterly appointment with Dr. S.  I was feeling fairly pessimistic about the results of my labs, and I was afraid he’d not be on board with the whole fertility thing (more on that later).

So, when the first words out of his mouth were “your labs look great,” I was relieved.  And, frankly, shocked.  After my last A1c disaster, I was expecting a decline, but certainly not as much as it really was. 

“Your A1c is 6.7%.” 

<side note> On the same day that I had my A1c done, I used one of those Bayer At-Home A1c kits.  The result from the Bayer test was 7.2%, which tells me that these at-home tests are not as accurate as we need them to be. </side note>

“Your kidney function is great, and your cholesterol is only slightly elevated.”  This is significant because I’ve been off of Lipitor for a few months.  “Overall, everything looks great.” 

Next, we reviewed my Dexcom reports (I always bring my netbook with me so that he can choose which reports he wants to see).  Other than some possible basal tweaking at bedtime, we agreed that my insulin usage is pretty good.  But, then we talked about my propensity for SWAGing.  He reiterated that I need to count carbs more accurately, which I’ve known for, well, ever.  “It’s just a discipline thing,” I told him.  Just like logging, measuring food and counting carbs accurately is a chore, but one that must be done.

He asked me if I thought I should see the CDE to get some carb counting lessons, and while I think I might need it, I told him that I wanted to wait until the next appointment to see if I’ve improved on my own.  He agreed.

Next, we started talking about the fertility craziness.  I told him that I was having an IUI done this cycle, and that, if all goes well, I’ll be pregnant the next time he sees me.  I told him about the disastrous appointment with the high-risk OB.  He actually offered to write a letter explaining that achieving a BG of 60-80 is a recipe for disaster for a T1.  He said that it often comes down to an education thing with other doctors – they assume that T1s are the same as T2s and gestational patients.  Obviously, they’re not. 

Then, he started talking about things like “what to do with my pump during delivery” and “my insulin needs increasing throughout the pregnancy.”  I joked that I’d wear my Omnipod AND Minimed pumps at the same time to handle the insulin needs.  He laughed, but started to think it was actually a novel idea.  It was so great that he not only gave me the green light to move forward with the IUI (not that he would have stopped me), but also that he was talking as if becoming pregnant was a foregone conclusion.  It suddenly felt very real.

Basically, he bottom-lined it for me: “You know what you need to do, Shannon.  You’ve got all the tools you need and the education to use them properly.”  He’s right, of course.  I do know what I need to do, and now that I’ve got a solid pre-conception A1c, I’m going to do it.  I feel oddly energized and optimistic about my D-life. 

So, he wants to see me in two months; sooner if the IUI works.  Although he’s booked solid through late August, he’s promised to squeeze me in if I get pregnant.  As I wrote above, I love my endo!

Comments (8)

By shannon, May 20, 2010 11:20 am

Hello, I’m Shannon’s Dexcom Seven Plus receiver.  While I prefer to be addressed by Shannon’s pet name for me, “The Greatest Invention Ever,” for the purpose of this guest post, you can call me “Dex.”

I’m writing for Shannon today because she’s still not feeling all that well.  On Tuesday, we had us an adventure, and I got a front-row seat to the whole thing.

A few weeks ago, when Shannon had her HSG done, her doctor noticed something strange in her uterus.  The doctor said it was a polyp and that it should be removed before any attempts at fertility treatments. 

Since I spend most of my time in Shannon’s pocket or her purse, I hear everything.  I heard that the procedure to remove the polyp is called a hysteroscopy with D&C.  I heard that it’s done under general anesthesia in an operating room, but you don’t have to stay in the hospital overnight or anything – they called it “outpatient.” 

Shannon was nervous, as she always is when she is unfamiliar with something.  But, on Tuesday morning, she slept late, showered, and got ready for her appointment.  Her husband, Brian, drove us to the hospital, and the nice people there greeted us as we arrived.

We were led to the “pre-op” area where they made Shannon put on one of those awful hospital gowns.  She also had to put a funny blue hat on her head and funny blue booties on her feet.  I thought she looked ridiculous, but Brian said she looked beautiful. 

Then we waited.  One of the nurses came over to ask if Shannon had checked her blood sugar lately.  This is when I made my first “official” appearance.  When Shannon showed the nurse what I do, I saw excitement in her eyes.  Shannon asked if I could go into the OR with her, and after checking with the doctor, the nurse said that I could.  I was stoked!

Next, the anesthesiologist came into the room.  He checked me out, too.  Shannon thought that it might make sense for me to hang with him during the procedure since he would have the closest access to her IV and be able to administer glucose, if needed.  He agreed, so Shannon showed him how I work.  He was gentle when he pressed my buttons, which made me feel a lot better.  I don’t like it when children or other “careless” people handle me – they are much too rough for my delicate genius. 

After her IV was inserted and some anti-nausea drug called Zofran was given, the anesthesiologist said that he would give Shannon another drug during the surgery called Decadron.  Right away, Shannon and I both became alert.  “Won’t Decadron raise my blood sugar?” Shannon asked.  The doc said that it shouldn’t affect it too much because of the low dose.  Skeptical, Shannon and I prepared for a bumpy ride.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, it was showtime.  They asked Shannon to walk into the OR herself, while the nurse carried me over to the anesthesiologist’s table.  Once I was settled, I saw them help position Shannon on the table.  They had her put her legs in these weird stirrup things and strapped her arms straight out.  She looked like a Thanksgiving turkey all trussed up like that.  I tried not to laugh because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.  But, in the end, she just looked so damned funny that I couldn’t help it.

Shannon glared in my direction and saw that the anesthesiologist was injecting something into her IV.  A few seconds later, she was asleep.  That’s when things got rolling in the OR. 

The doctor came in and looked at the ultrasound film to get the general location of the polyp.  Then, she inserted this long camera thing right through Shannon’s cervix and into her uterus.  It was so cool because I could see everything that the camera saw on this TV next to the bed. 

There was lots of technical talk and things that I didn’t understand.  The doctor did something called Dilation and Curettage to remove the polyp.  It all seemed to go smoothly, and like a good Dex, I was quiet throughout the procedure.  The anesthesiologist did check on me once to make sure that I was still working (doubter!), but after that, he left me alone. 

When the D&C was over, they gently removed Shannon’s legs from the stirrup things, unstrapped her arms, and placed her comfortably on the bed thing (it’s not really a bed, but it’s not really a cot, either).  They covered her with a blanket and put me on her belly.  Then, they rolled her back to her room where they monitored her blood pressure (it was excellent), the oxygen saturation in her blood (also excellent), and her breathing. 

Slowly, Shannon began to wake up.  They called her name a few times, and then Brian was there.  He held her hand as she slowly opened her eyes.  She said that she felt some pain, so they injected something into her IV.  She seemed pretty happy after that.

I was started to wonder if she even cared where I was.  But then she found me on her belly and I was back home where I belonged.  She pressed my OK button to see how her BG did during the surgery.  I proudly showed her that she did great!

After a few minutes, the nurse told Shannon to try to get up.  I couldn’t believe it, but she did!  She got up slowly and walked to the end of the hall and back.  The nurse said that she did great and that we could all go home soon.  I was excited.  Shannon was starving.

After her IV had been removed, Brian helped Shannon get dressed. The nurse said that a prescription for something called Vicodin had been called in to the pharmacy on the 1^st floor.  So, after Brian helped her into the car, he went back inside.  Before he did, he asked Shannon if she wanted anything to eat, and she said “hell yeah.”  She was sounding more and more like her old self.  Shannon asked Brian to get her a Kit Kat, which he did.

During the long drive home, Shannon devoured that Kit Kat, and I watched her BG start to climb.  It was climbing way too fast to be because of that Kit Kat.  That’s when I remembered the Decadron. 

For the next 24 hours, Shannon’s blood sugar would not come down.  No matter what she did, I stayed at a constant 350 mg/dl or higher.  She doubled her basals and did correction boluses every two hours, but nothing seemed to work.  She even turned my high alarm off because we were both just exhausted.    

We stayed home from work the next day, and Shannon had a lot of pain.  She tried to rest, but between the pain and the crazy BGs, she didn’t get much sleep.   She finally started to get some relief last night only to spike a fever.  She immediately called the doctor and was told to take Tylenol for the fever. 

I don’t like Tylenol.  No, let me rephrase.  I HATE Tylenol.  It does something wonky to the inner working of my sensor’s technology.  Tylenol is my kryptonite.  I knew that I would be useless to Shannon until the Tylenol was out of her system, so I decided to take a nap. 

My nap turned into an entire night’s sleep.  Shannon and I both slept through the night.  She’s feeling a little better today, but still not well enough to write a blog post.  She was thankful when I offered to step up and write it for her.  I’m cool like that.

Oh, and by the way, Shannon’s #bgnow is 153 mg/dl.

Comments (11)

By shannon, May 10, 2010 9:00 am

So, I decided to participate in Karen’s brilliant idea:  The First Annual Diabetes Blog Week .  All week, I’ll be blogging about the different aspects of my life with diabetes.  When I last checked, there were a TON of bloggers who are also participating, so when you’re done here, check them out.

Today’s topic is: A Day in the Life … With Diabetes

12:01am – 5:29am:  Sleep.

5:30am: Alarm.  Ugh.  I want to go back to sleep.  I decide to let Dexcom decide.  If my BG is in range, I’ll get up; if it’s not, I’ll correct and go back to sleep.  Dex shows a nice flat line with a BG of 87 mg/dl.  I decide that the agreement wasn’t in writing and, therefore, is not binding.  I roll over and go back to sleep.

6:08am:  Brian brings me a cup of coffee because he’s the greatest husband ever.  I slowly come to life.  I check my BG and confirm Dex’s assessment with a PDM reading of 92 mg/dl.  Thankful that my nighttime basals are spot on, I check my iPhone for email and Twitter updates.

6:18am:  I finally get up and stumble into the bathroom.  I brush my teeth, shower (thankful that I no longer have to suspend and disconnect a pump to do so), and get ready for work.  I peek at Dex a few times just to confirm that I’m not rising or dropping unexpectedly.

7:10am:  I do a quick finger test to confirm that it’s safe to drive – 102 mg/dl.  I hop (well, not really– it is still morning, after all) into the car and brave the Baltimore traffic.

7:45am: I arrive at work and unload my various d-tools that I’ll use throughout the day:  PDM, Dex, glucose tabs, iPhone, etc.

7:50am – 9:00am: I work. At staying awake.

9:00am: Prepare a bowl of oatmeal.  BG check is 100 mg/dl, so I inject 60mcg of Symlin and eat. 

9:10am: Finished eating, I bolus for the meal.

9:10 – 11:30am: Work.  Meetings.  More work. Bathroom break.

11:35am:  Dex shows that my breakfast bolus didn’t do its job.  I confirm with a finger stick and take 1.5U to correct.

12:30pm:  Lunch time!  Since I keep a mini fridge at work, I often have lunch stuff available.  Today, I decide to make a turkey and cheese sandwich with mustard.  Dex shows the correction dose finally dropping me to normal range. 

12:35pm:  I do a finger stick to check my BG: 112 mg/dl.  I dial up 60mcg of Symlin and eat my sandwich.  When I’m done, I program an extended bolus and get back to work.

1:10pm:  Feeling weird.  I hear Dex’s low alarm and, after a quick peek, I see that I’m dropping.  FAST.  Looks like the Symlin is working faster than the carbs are being absorbed.  SHIT!  I do a finger stick and look with almost disbelief at the 52 mg/dl staring back at me.  I have no idea what to do.  The Symlin will delay any fast acting glucose I take, so I won’t rebound quickly, AND I’ll be high later.  I decide to wait it out.

1:15pm:  WTF is taking so long?  I’m still hovering at 50 mg/dl.

1:20pm:  Sweating now?  Really? 

1:21pm:  Screw it.  I drink some juice and hope that it helps.

1:30pm:  Finally beginning to rise, I feel well enough to get back to work. 

2:38pm:  Dex HIGH alarm.  Son of a …!!!  Sure enough, finger stick shows 185 mg/dl.  Dex has one arrow straight up, so I know it’s not over.  I correct the 185 and continue working.

3:15pm:  Bathroom break.  Wash hands and test BG – 174 mg/dl.  Damnit!  Correct again.

3:45pm:  Pack up, test BG, and drive home.  Correction dose still not working, but I don’t want to rage bolus only to crash later.

4:15pm:  Home.  Aaaaaah.  I change clothes, go to the bathroom, pet animals, and clean up the kitchen.  I don’t even look at Dex because I’m tired and I just don’t care.

5:00pm:  Waiting for Brian to get home, I begin thinking about dinner.  I check Dex to see if carbs are even an option tonight.  Sure enough, I’m dropping again.  At least this time, it’s a gradual drop and not a jumping-off-a-cliff drop.  More like coasting, really. 

5:30pm:  Brian comes home.  We try to come up with a dinner plan.  “What do you want?”  “I don’t know.  What do YOU want?”  “I don’t know.”  This can go on for hours.

6:02pm:  Dex’s low alarm makes the dinner debate more important.  We decide to go out.  I grab a juice box, and we head out to the restaurant.

6:28pm:  We are seated.  The waitress brings bread (bitch!) and our drink order (iced tea, unsweetened).  After a few minutes, our salads arrive.  I test my BG with a finger stick – still too low for Symlin.  I begin eating the salad, which is soooo good.  I LOVE Carrabba’s Caesar salad. 

6:50pm:  Dinner arrives.  I ordered the Salmon with a pasta side, which I calculate to be about 45g carbs (for ½ of the serving).  I program a 30/70 dual-wave bolus for 2 hours – lots of fat in that lemon butter sauce – and dig in.

7:25pm:  Waitress clears plates and offers us dessert (bitch, again!).  We decline, pay the check, and go home.

7:56pm:  Home.  Again.  Aaaaah.  Dex shows two arrows straight up, so I know that the carbs are hitting me faster than I anticipated.  What to do?  If I attempt to head it off, I WILL go low later.  If not, I’m going to be spiking well above 250 mg/dl before it’s over.  I still don’t know what to do in these situations.  I wait.  I feed the cats and watch some TV with Bri.

9:30pm:  Dex has been bitching at me since we got home.  Since my extended bolus only finished a few minutes ago, I decide to wait a little longer.

10:00pm:  Bed time.  I wash my face, brush and Waterpik my teeth, apply zit cream (don’t even get me started on *that*), and put on PJs.  I grab a juice box from the fridge and put it next to the rest of my diabetes arsenal on my nightstand.  I check my BG with a finger stick – 213 mg/dl.  FUCK!  I take a correction bolus, turn off the lights, and go to sleep.

11:37pm:  Dex alarm – falling faster than 3mg/dl per minute.  Well duh!  I drink the juice box and hope that tomorrow is a better day.  But, I accept the knowledge that today was just another typical day in my diabetes life, and tomorrow is probably going to be similar.

Comments (3)

By shannon, December 24, 2009 8:46 am

I had no idea that when I wrote that first poem,

That you’d kick and scream and disrupt my whole home.

If I’d known I’d have taken greater care,

To ensure that your response wasn’t too much to bear.

But, I didn’t expect your reaction to it all,

Keeping me up for two nights with your HIGH alarm call.

Yes, I know that deep down, I deserve all the blame,

But I’ll continue to throw it on you just the same.

I know it’s not fair and it’s definitely not right,

But never before had you put up such a fight.

Since we met, you’ve been there through thick and through thin,

You’ve saved my life and brought peace from within.

I know I had to bump you from your spot on my arm,

For the Pod because there, he can do me no harm.

Besides, you stick so well in your new home on my butt,

Where you’re safe from the edges and doors that slam shut.

So, this rhyme’s for you, Dex, you don’t have to cry,

Now shut the fuck up!  Kthanksbye.

Comments (2)

By shannon, December 23, 2009 9:59 am

It has not been a good week for sleep, and I’m exhausted.  

I’m the type of person who NEEDS at least eight hours of sleep per night.  If I get less, I do not function at the level that I should.  I get headaches, I’m cranky, and I spend the day in a fog.  

I know that everyone is different; Brian needs much less sleep to function, while others need more.  But eight hours is my minimum.

I can’t remember the last time I got eight hours of sleep.  Between getting up for work at 5:30 everyday (I’m so not a morning person) and rarely getting to sleep before 10:00pm, I’m averaging between six and seven hours per night.  This does not a happy Shannon make.

Which brings me to my current state of luggage-ness.  I’ve been eating like crap.  I know it, and I know I shouldn’t, but with so much going on (i.e., preparing for Christmas at our house, which includes painting our kitchen and other assorted home repair projects), we haven’t had a chance to hit the grocery store in a while.  With no food in the house, we either go out to eat or order in EVERY NIGHT.  Weight Watchers is a fond, but distant memory at this point.  I’ll get back to it, but not until this craziness is over.

For the past two nights, we’ve eaten very high carb, very high fat meals.  I’ve done my best to SWAG bolus, but I’ve been way off.  Each night, I’ve gone to bed high, but with a correction bolus pumping away.  Each night, every hour, Dex has alerted me to his unhappiness with my BG. Every.  Single.  Hour. 

I know, I know, I could have changed the alarm settings.  But, normally I *like* the settings I use, and I didn’t want to mess with them.  Besides, the point is to correct the high or low BG, not ignore it.  That’s why I got the DexCom in the first place.

So, back to the story.  Monday night was awful.  I think I got a total of four hours of sleep.  I rage bolused all night, but my stubborn high BG wouldn’t budge. Finally, when I got into the office, I was at a nice 110 mg/dl.  Dead tired, but good BG. 

I have no idea how I made it through an entire workday – probably because there’s absolutely no work this week and I could zone out at will.  I got home before 5:00pm determined to get a good night’s sleep:  eight hours minimum! 

After having the usual “what do you want for dinner” conversation with Brian, we decided a quick trip to Chili’s would be best.  It was early enough that we’d be able to beat the rush.  I bolused, we ate, we came home, I tested, I corrected, and went to bed.  

Dex was unhappy again.  I was high all night.  But, Oliver (my Omnipod) was also displeased.  It seems that I was nearing the expiration of my pod, and it was necessary to inform me of that fact in the middle of the night.  Another sleepless(ish) night.  Unfortunately, I can’t be luggage today – there’s too much to do.  So, I’m drinking coffee like there’s no tomorrow and hoping I can make it through without killing anymore (or getting fired). 

D-technology, I love you because you make it easier to control the beast.  But, I hate you right now because I’m so, so tired.  Have you seen the size of my to-do list?  C’mon man!

Comments (2)

By shannon, December 11, 2009 11:21 am

Yesterday felt like the longest day ever while I was at work.  I tired to get into the office super early so that I’d be able to leave early. Why?  Because my new Omnipod would be waiting for me when I got home.  But the bad drivers of Baltimore were conspiring against me.  I ended up getting to work 30 minutes later than I’d intended.

Once I arrived, I spent far too many minutes checking and rechecking the FedEx tracking page.  Finally, at 12:28, the package was delivered, and from that moment on, I was completely useless at work (not that I’d been all that productive anyway).  I just wanted to go home to my new present.

Does it make me a complete geek to be that excited about an insulin pump?  Do I care?  Nope.  Not even a little.  I wear the geek title with pride.  The other badge I wear, although not with any pride, is impatience.  I’m a type A personality (as if you hadn’t already figured that out for yourself).  I’m extremely high strung, and I want what I want when I want it.

Finally, at 3:30 pm, I hopped in my Tahoe and started home.  First, I had to stop at the pharmacy to pick up my new Freestyle Test Strips to use with the Omnipod PDM.  Since I’m well known at my local Walgreens, it was a quick in/out process.  Once again, I was back in the Tahoe heading home.

As I pulled into our driveway, I saw it.  Like a big, beautifully wrapped Christmas gift, there sat the plain brown cardboard box that held the next phase of my diabetes life.  I hurried out of the Tahoe, grabbed my 30 lb (well, probably not 30, but it’s damned heavy) bag that I have to carry because I must cart tons of diabetes supplies around, and bent over to pick up the box.

It was a lot heavier than I expected.  I remember all of my Minimed supply shipments being really light.  For some reason, the extra weight of the box pleased me.  Almost like the whole system had more . . . I don’t know? Substance?

Once upstairs, I ripped the box open, and the heavens sang.  It was beautiful (I should have taken a photo, but I suck).  My starter kit and five (5!) boxes of pods were carefully packed.  Also in the box:  a white silicone “skin” for the PDM, a Freestyle Flash meter (I guess to use as a backup), and a USB cable for uploading data to a PC (note my only disappointment – no Mac compatibility).

I immediately went to work setting up the PDM according to the instructions and the online tutorial I had watched earlier (while pretending to work).  I entered all of the typical date/time/etc. stuff, basal rates (I have seven!), my I:C ratio, and my correction factor.  After all the settings were done, the PDM asked it I wanted to activate a new Pod.  Why, yes.  I did!

I filled a new Pod with Novolog according to the instructions (the PDM walked me through each step of new Pod activation), removed the needle cap and adhesive backing, and stuck it on my arm.  I pinched the skin, pressed the magic Start button on the PDM, and felt a tiny prick as the needle inserted the cannula.

That’s all it took.  I looked through the little window on the pod, confirmed that the cannula was inserted properly and that there was no blood, and I was done.

I removed the Minimed infusion set, pulled the battery, and placed it in the small box that the Omnipod PDM came in.  I felt a moment of sadness – this pump has been with me through most of the recent big events in my life.  But, when I lost faith in Minimed, my pump had to go.

As I was completely wrapped up in my new device, cooking dinner was out of the question.  We decided to order a pizza, which meant . . . The Pizza Bolus.  It was the first test of my new Omnipod, and the extended bolus worked perfectly.  I was in love.

I tested my BG before bed, calibrated Dex, and crashed.  I slept great!  I woke up once to use the bathroom, and for the first time in years, I didn’t have to search for my pump before sliding out of bed (I often dropped it during that process).  I didn’t have to clip it to my pajama bottoms when I got up this morning, and I didn’t have to disconnect anything before taking my shower.  And my loofah didn’t get stuck on anything!  It was a beautiful moment, and I almost cried.

When I got to work this morning, I download the CoPilot and Extension software to my new Netbook (more on that later), connected my PDM, and uploaded my pump settings and data (so far).  It was painless, and I’m impressed with the software (I just wish I could use it for my DexCom, too).

So, after 18 hours, I’m a very happy Pod person!

Comments (5)

By shannon, November 19, 2009 2:06 pm

Dear Insulin Pump/Glucose Meter/CGM Manufacturers,

First, let me tell you how much I love your products.  I’m a big geek, who actually gets excited at the prospect of new diabetes technology.  When I get a new meter, it’s like my birthday.  CGM arrival day is like Christmas.  And, well, new pump day?  That only happens once every four years, so I can’t even compare it to any other day.  I don’t know what it is about new tech gadgets that gets me so excited.  It’s just all so shiny and new and wonderful.

Until I look at the minimum requirements for using your software.  Why-oh-why won’t any of you support Mac OS? Imagine my disappointment when, after carefully unboxing my new Accu-Check Compact Plus meter, I found that in order to use the software, I had to use Windows.  Windows!?!  

What is it?  Did Apple beat you up in grade school?  Did they steal your college girlfriend?  Did they get you fired?  Seriously.  What is it?

Because, when/if one of you guys ever steps up and makes Mac-friendly software, I’ll be first in line to give it a try.  Hell, I’ll even beta test it for you!  Just.  Make.  Something.

kthanksbye,

Shannon

Comments (4)

By shannon, November 18, 2009 1:27 pm

Which is better?

Next year, I’m going to get a new insulin pump.  I’ve used a Minimed 722 pump for three years, and while I like it, I don’t *love* it.  I admit to some pump envy.

At this point, I’m torn between the Omnipod and the Animas One Touch Ping.  I really like both of these guys for similar reasons.  

I LOVE the idea of remote bolusing.  Now, before you tell me about Minimed’s remote control for the 722, let me say that I have it and don’t like it.  I’m not a math person, so if I have to calculate a bolus, without the luxury of a “wizard,” I’m not happy.  So, score one for the Omnipod and one for the Ping. 

Next, I’m tired of tubing.  I’m constantly getting it wrapped around a doorknob or caught in my dog’s feet (he’s a bit of a lap dog).  I feel limited to certain pump sites because of the tubing issue.  Point for the Omnipod.

I’m somewhat intimidated by the size of the Pod.  I don’t want it to be visible under my clothes.  This is especially true because I’ve gotten used to using my arms and legs as pump sites.  My abdomen is so scarred that absorption is pathetic there.  I keep my DexCom sensors on my arms, and they’re already pretty visible, so what will adding a Pod to the mix do?  Point for the Ping.

So, I’m back to square one.  Which is the better pump and why?

Comments (4)

By shannon, November 15, 2009 11:29 am

My 24-hour DexCom graph.

It’s been a rough few days.  On Friday, when I was running high for most of the day, I started wondering WTF is going on with my diabetes.  I can’t blame it on SWAG bolusing because I’ve been really good about measuring my food.  The only explanation is stress.  I’ve been pretty stressed lately with lots of family issues.

At dinner on Friday night, I carefully calculated my carbs and dialed up a bolus.  DexCom showed me spiking slightly after we got home, but nothing alarming.  By bed time, I was at 97 mg/dl and steady.

That was the last time I felt normal.  Around 12:30 am, I woke up.  I knew something wasn’t right, but I didn’t move.  I just laid there for I don’t know how long.  Then, the three wailing beeps of the DexCom permeated the haze.  I was low.  I knew I had to get up and test, but I just didn’t want to.  Brian didn’t wake up, and since I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t wake him up.

Somehow, I managed to reach over to the mini-fridge on my nightstand and grab a juice box.  I struggled with getting the straw out of the plastic and into the little hole, but eventually, I managed to drink the entire box.  That’s when I noticed the sweat.  I hate sweating; it’s the main reason I loathe exercising. The amount of sweat pouring off my body was equivalent to what I’d expect during a hard, long workout.   My brain knew that I had to test, but my body was not listening.  I glanced at the DexCom and saw a 41 mg/dl.  Hands shaking, I fumbled with my meter, wasted at least two test strips, and pricked every finger on my left hand.  Finally, I got a reading:  37 mg/dl.

That didn’t make sense to me – I felt a lot worse than 37!  What was happening?

As the sweating continued and the shaking increased, I took another look at the DexCom.  It simply read:  LOW.  The little graph was at the very bottom line.  I waited for 10 more minutes before testing again.  The result:  LOW.  No number, just LOW.  I think this was actually a good thing because it managed to “wake me up.”  I grabbed another juice box and sucked it down (the next time someone teases me for keeping a mini-fridge next to my bed, I’m going to pull out this blog post).

After another 10 minutes, I started feeling a little more steady.  Not great, but I could think a little more clearly.  That’s when I noticed the hunger.  I was hungrier than I’d ever been.  I stumbled into the kitchen, grabbed the bag of Sun Chips, plopped (there is no better word for what I did) down on the couch, and I ate.  I devoured the contents of that bag.  Nothing has ever tasted as good as those Sun Chips.  I didn’t care about the carbs; I didn’t care about Weight Watchers; I didn’t care about crumbs.  If someone had tried to take them away, I probably would have growled.  Seriously, it was animalistic.  I didn’t care.

I then went to work on my little Weight Watchers mini cakes.  I ate two of those, followed by a large milk chaser.  It was awesome.  Feeling much better (no more sweating or shaking), I crawled back into bed and crashed.

Two hours later, I was awakened by the two wailing beeps of the DexCom.  And so began the next high-to-low-to-high cycle.

Last night, as Brian and I were falling asleep, he says, “Oh, so it’s two beeps for high and three for low, right?”  Welcome to the roller-coaster, babe.