Low Hallucinations

(Don’t you hate it when you clickety-click around on your screen while creating a blog entry, your computer is slow, and you accidentally hit “publish” before actually creating the post? Yeah, I did that today.)

Last night, while heading out the door to go to dinner with my d-girl friends, my Dexcom starting blaring, and I (correctly) guessed it was the “blood sugar heading downwards” alarm. I didn’t even look at it. It was sooooo close to dinner. I knew better than to drive the 9 minutes to the restaurant without having something working to counteract a potential low, so I shoved a Pillsbury Ready-to-Bake! Pumpkin Cookie in my mouth, several grapes, and swigged some milk to wash it all down.  I don’t ever drive with a low, and I was still feeling OK, so I felt plenty safe enough to get in the car.

Yummy pumpkin goodness. Even raw.

“Please do not eat raw cookie dough.” Does anyone really pay attention to that warning??

On the way to the restaurant, I got stuck behind this old, beat up blue sedan, and could barely make out the back of the driver’s head through the dirty rear windshield. It appeared she had a head full of pigs in a blanket in her hair. Huh?

As the sedan turned and I managed to pass the car, I glanced over – just to make sure she wasn’t actually wearing  those morsels of tastiness – and sure enough, it was a head full of hair curlers, NOT pigs in a blanket. This kind of “low hallucination” seems to happen to me a lot. If my blood sugar starts edging towards 70 or so, food-related connections start happening more and more frequently. Now, I was barely in the 70s at that moment, which isn’t terribly low for me, and consciously I *knew* that lady didn’t really have pigs in a blanket in her hair, but I did find it amusing that it was the first thing that popped into my head.

What is your funniest low hallucination? (and now I’m off to find me some pigs in a blanket for lunch….)

Wordless Wednesday – Giving Back

Volunteered with a few hundred other co-workers and community members to sort and package foodstuffs to feed 100,000 people in our state.

Volunteered this morning with a few hundred other co-workers and community members to package 100,000 meals to feed the hungry in our state.

There are food banks all over the US…find one in your area, donate or volunteer today! http://feedingamerica.org/

A Post of Gastronomic Poop-portion

I’m sort of embarrassed to be writing about this (and trust me, it takes a LOT to embarrass me!) but I’m thinking I need to go to the doctor about my poop. There, I said it.

Poop has become a common word around my house, it’s just, we usually talk about my daughter’s poop – considering she has been potty training for a couple of months now (“Yay, you pooped in the potty!!!!), and even as a baby, pooping was a very important occurrence to track. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve talked about poop over the past 2.5 years, and just last night, during a wonderful home-made stir-fry dinner, I talked about poop with my neighbors, and a girl I’d literally just met. No topic is taboo over dinner, apparently. None of us were grossed out. Poop-talk is that common.

This always makes me giggle

You can have your own jelly bean pooping bear! (click on image to go to site from whence said photo came)

But my own personal poop? Not that common. I’m lucky if I poop a couple times a week on average. However, in the past 3-4 months or so, I’ve noticed an alarming change in my poop cycles. I’ve been going more often, and they are usually not pleasant. They are not the bastions of solidity that I am used to. They are odd colors and consistencies. They are many times urgently required to happen, if you know what I mean.

I’ve asked my endocrinologist about it, as well as my OB/gyn. Neither of them seemed particularly concerned. I’m taking Metformin, and that supposedly has the side-effect of stomach upset. But I’ve been taking that for years now, and these poop problems just started a few months ago.

This past weekend, I had a new side effect: feeling nauseous after eating lunch, and then an overwhelming fatigue that hit me like a Mack truck – so hard that I was forced to take a mid-day nap (I have NEVER been a napper, except for when pregnant, and no, I’m definitely not pregnant) and I slept for 4 hours. Even after the nap, I was still dragging, went to bed at my usual hour, and slept for 8 hours. A humongous “thanks” goes out to my husband for taking over kid-duty 100% and letting me get as much sleep as I did.

Yesterday and today I haven’t felt quite as tired as all that, but I’m still not back to normal. Poops are still weird and gross. The nausea doesn’t occur after every meal, but it seems to be barely there maybe 1 or 2 meals out of the day. I am refusing to do internet searches on symptoms, because I don’t want to self-diagnose myself with the worst case scenario. Could this be something diabetes-complication-related? Maybe. But I’m not going to blame the big D until I know more.

All this poop-talk just to say: I think it’s time I found myself a good gastroenterologist.

I’ll have Gerard Butler with my wine, thank you

My favorite wines tend to be red….my current red wine of choice is just about any Malbec from Argentina. I’m not a wine snob nor do I profess to know much about wine, but I know what I like to drink, and over the years I’ve (mostly) figured out how wine affects me and my blood sugars. One glass of red wine with a carb-filled Italian dinner actually seems to help keep my blood sugars a little more stable….my guess is, my liver decides to process the alcohol instead of immediately processing the carbs, so I get a bit of a sugar-break. Now, this is just an observation I’ve made with myself and how my body works – YDMV (your diabetes may vary.)

When my eye was drawn to this “Stark Raving White” wine in the grocery store aisle, I felt compelled to buy it, even though white wines tend to affect my sugars more (by having more carbs in the wine itself), and they are not as tasty to me as the reds. Yum, wine. Yum, Gerard Butler.Ah, Gerard Butler! That may or may not be his image on the bottle, but this winery knew how to suck me into buying their wines….put sexy-looking men on the labels. (It’s like I’m back in college, didn’t know what wines I would like, so I bought them based on how pretty the bottle or label was. Sometimes it worked out, sometimes it didn’t. Bleck.) I have no idea if the steampunk-looking dude on the Stark Raving Red bottle is supposed to be Gerard as well – the glasses kind of throw me off – but I’ll happily drink him up as well.

(And here’s your Public Service Announcement from the ADA on alcohol and diabetes.)

Wordless Wednesday – Eating Corn

(I should just start calling them “Wordy Wednesdays” because I ALWAYS have to make comments about the pictures. OK, next week, that’s what I’m doing!)Mad 2 year old corn-eating skillsOne thing diabetes has not robbed me of eating, despite it’s high carbohydrate count…..corn! And I happily share the love of eating corn on the cob with my daughter. At 2 years old, she’s becoming quite skilled in eating it!!

Mixing Kids and Diabetes

How I feel on a daily basis about  “my diabetes” has dramatically changed since I was pregnant and had my daughter, and has been undergoing a constant evolution ever since. Most days, I’m OK with it, but some days, it really pisses me off and makes me feel helpless.

Before Penny, I felt that “my diabetes” really only affected me. Highs and lows were my personal cross to bear, and only influenced me and my own health.  I dealt with it, I controlled it the best I could, and I was OK with that.

While pregnant, I felt every blood sugar affected me AND her, and it totally freaked me out. I worried a LOT about her, there in my belly, dealing with *my* highs and lows with her own little pancreas, and hoping that she came out with no adverse affects from it. (She came out perfectly healthy, by the way.) I was pissed off about diabetes a LOT while I was pregnant.

In the early days of staying home with her as a teeny baby, I would assure I had juice boxes and fruit snacks handy when I was feeding her, and and I was constantly worried that I might crash and pass out and no one would be there to help her. I remember being fearful to take her anywhere in the car because my hands were still numb (from pregnancy-induced carpel tunnel – such a crappy side effect) but moreso from the worry of  “what if” my blood sugar crashed while driving. On top of all the crazy hormones and emotions that “normal” people had to deal with post-partum, I also had to deal with this other variable of diabetes. I was pissed off about that. Frequently and unreservedly. (Bless my husband – he should be given Sainthood as a reward for dealing with me during that time period.)

Once I went back to work, and Penny was in daycare, I was back to dealing with diabetes mostly by myself, and feeling it mostly only affected me. I could handle taking care of myself like I always had, and skillfully managed my day of work meetings, taking snack breaks, eating lunch on time, etc. I am mostly OK with it on a daily basis, and have been for a while now. I have the occasional  “off” day here and there, but have been in relatively good control, and feel proud that I am so on top of things. Things have been good. Really good. I am rocking it – goooooo me!

Penny, only a few minutes before making a run for the door

Penny, only a few minutes before inciting chaos and making a run for the door

Then, this past weekend there was a moment where I felt it all went to heck in a hand-basket…. Penny and I were in a restaurant with a friend and her 2 year old girl. It was getting close to nap-time, and Penny was getting antsy. As our food came (which, I had just bolused for), Penny needed to go potty. So, we traipse off to the bathroom, and spend 5 minutes doing the needful. Come back to eat, and Penny is squirming in her chair, and generally needing my constant attention to be focused on her food and not creating a scene. Well, *I* needed to focus on *my* food, too. I was hungry, and knew if I didn’t start getting some food in my stomach, things could get sketchy.  With no warning, Penny hops up and makes a break for the door. I drop my food, navigate through tables and patrons and chase after her. I successfully block her escape, and carry her back to the table. After giving her a stern talking-to, explaining that she should NEVER EVER exit a door without Mommy, and dealing with her subsequent tears, I try to scarf down my food, while assuring she’s eating some amount of food herself.

The clock is ticking….my insulin is taking effect, I need to eat, get her out of there, get back to the car, and get her back home for a nap before the time-bomb-that-is-a-tired-Penelope goes off. Oh, and I need to do it all while assuring my own blood sugar doesn’t crash from the stress of trying to make sure she’s not running outside into traffic or harassing fellow patrons in the restaurant. I *wanted* to be able to leave with her right then. But I couldn’t. I HAD to stay there and deal with any ruckus she created because I HAD to eat and assure I wasn’t going to crash and burn and be no good to anyone in the next 30 minutes. I had to make sure we both could get home safely because my diabetes affected both she and I at that moment. It caused me to have to make the parental decision of staying there and eating instead of picking up and leaving like I wanted to.

My friend helped out a lot (thank you again, Monica!), and entertained Penny for just long enough so I could finish my lunch. We did successfully make it home in time for the much-needed nap. I didn’t crash (unless you count crashing on the couch and sighing from relief.) On most days I spend with Penny, my husband would be there making sure I had time to eat, and it’s not really a problem if we have to take her out of a restaurant – we are a great team and we roll with the punches. Usually, I have plenty of support around eating times, and it’s not an issue. But on that day, diabetes really pissed me off, and it was a day of mixing kids and diabetes that made me just a little bitter.