"Drunk" Driving

I worked all day today in a small town in northerh Utah. With a 45 minute commute to get there this morning, I woke up a little too late to make myself a decent lunch. When lunchtime came around for me today, I walked out to my car thinking about the limited lunch options in such a small town. The strangest thing was that I didn't really start feeling that anything wrong until I was about 50 yards from my car. I didn't think much of it until I got into my car, because I was headed to lunch anyway. I got into my car and started driving in to town from where I was working, and very quickly felt dizzy and felt my car start to swerve a little in the road. I was only going about 40 mph, but I slowed down to about 25 mph only to have to force myself to concentrate until I got into a parking lot. The feeling of my BS going down that fast was quite unsettling! I had to gather what was left of my wits about me before I could even walk in to buy my lunch! I honestly felt drunk while driving today! It was kinda scary! I am just grateful that it happened while I was on a desolate country road instead of on the busy interstate. I would have been in a heap of trouble. The funny thing is is that if one of the small town cops had pulled me over for suspicion of drunk driving, I wouldn't have even had a valid excuse of inebriation to admit to!

Introspection of a Walking Pincushion

It doesn't take knowing me very long to know that my life is full of sharp metal objects. :)

Every single frickin' day is full of needles. I use a needle to inject a life sustaining substance every time I eat in to a chosen site such as my stomach, hip, or arm. My left hand's middle and ring fingers are callused from regular glucose monitoring. (There are times when I would like to GIVE this disease the middle finger)

With the needles I use day in and day out, it might not be hard to understand why I coin myself a "walking pin-cushion". But even when I certainly feel like a pin cushion, I have to remember the always important reasons for being one. First I consider how lucky I am to live in a time where the medical profession makes managing diabetes a reality instead of the initial diagnosis of diabetes being a death sentence though I often consider it a life sentence. Second, those finger pricks help me make sure my sugars are in the healthy and recommended range. Last, every 3 months or so when I visit my endocrinologist I get a test called a hemoglobin A1C. This test is a culminated testament to how I have managed my disease over a 3 month period. The professionals use the scores from this test to assess how a diabetic is taking care of themselves, as well as determine potential risks for complications later in life. A non-diabetic person has an A1C score of about 6 or less. It is recommended that diabetics be around a 7. If it is any higher than this, you are more at risk for facing a hellish future of complications. A score of an 8 or higher is definitely not ideal. Admittedly my last one was a 10.2. On the scale of A1C's that's pretty pathetic. That basically shows that I have been eating whatever I damn well please, even skipping insulin doses at times.

That is my rebellion to the every day struggles with this disease. Every day is a test.

I am lucky to report though, that in the last 2 weeks I have really buckled down and tried to take control back instead of allowing diabetes to control me. A cool feature about my glucometer is that it shows a 14 day average of my sugars, and today the screen popped up with a beautiful 132! I remember in the not to far past when the average was the 200's to 300's! I couldn't have been more thrilled with this! I have felt better these past 2 weeks than I have in the past couple years of rebellion.

I know that I can't take these last couple of years back, even if I could I wouldn't. I have learned more about myself and about my disease. I am grateful that I am starting to heal from the inside out and owning the fact that I will never be perfect with this disease and the managment that goes with it. And that says a lot.

For Those Blissfully Unaware Souls

"How do you do it?"

"Do what exactly?"

"How do you handle the needles, the finger sticks, etc?"

That's just it people. I just do. I handle the needles, the blood, the constant reading of nutrition labels, the expensive test strips and insulin, the annoying insurance company, the stares, and the reactions of those people I like to term "blissfully unaware" of what having diabetes really means.

It doesn't just mean that I take shots or test my blood sugar. It doesn't mean that I can't ever have sugar. It doesn't mean that I am fragile or sick all the time.

Diabetes has changed my world forever. Long gone are the days of being carefree or "foot-loose and fancy free". Diabetes doesn't just affect my diet. It affects every single aspect of my life in one way or another. Diabetes has changed my outlook on social gatherings where there is food. It has affected the options on restaurants where I eat on dates with my husband. It affects the fact that when I have to go somewhere, I have to carry a purse constantly to make sure I have a snack, my glucometer, needles, and most importantly my insulin. I can't go for a short hike without my diabetes stuff. I can't go for a fun day at the lake with my husband's family without hauling my stuff with me in to the boat, or camping without it either. While some people consider eating candy and desserts a daily ritual, for me it is something I plan for and have to know how many carbs or cholesterol are in the ingredients.

In our society today foods on my "no-no" list are everywhere. It is almost insane. When someone is a diabetic you don't just look at any menu and pick something. My thought process when looking at a menu is "that will make me sick", "i can't even imagine how many carbs are in that", or "it sounds good, but isn't worth the amount of insulin I would have to give myself".

I am not complaining when I express how I do things. This is the life that I live, and I love it and am so grateful to be living it. This is just the rhyme to the reasons behind how I do and why I do these things.

Part of being a "healthy" diabetic is exercise. Every time I go exercise in some form or fashion I have to check my blood sugar to make sure I won't have a LOW while working out. Then when I get back I check it to make sure I am not headed that way, or that I am not too high.

That is the unpredictability of my disease, and while some people have told me they could never do it, or that they would rather take a bullet to the head, I just think "this is how I take care of myself". Diabetes care has become second nature to me. Every day is just another day in the life of being Lisa. I just don't think about it too much anymore because if I did, I'd be certifiably insane and depressed.

I have learned to be more tolerant of people who are ignorant to diabetes. Often I do not tell people right off the bat that I am a diabetic, because of the questions that inevitably come from doing so. I don't mind the questions or any opportunity to educate someone about my "world", but I also don't want them treating me as if I am breakable or in need of sympathy.

This is just a miniscule glimpse into the world/life of mine and so many others like me. So for all those of you that fit in to the category of the "blissfully unaware", don't worry because I used to be one of you!

Getting My "Move" On..

When I was diagnosed almost 4 years ago I was so overwhelmed with the onslaught of information thrown my way that when the part that the "professionals" explained to me about complications seems more like a blur than anything else. All I really remember about complications is that it added to the fear and devastation I felt. So it was quickly forgotten or put on the back burner when it came to how I took care of myself. I went through denial, ate what I wanted while trying to compensate with insulin all the time. A couple years passed and the A1C's started climbing higher and higher. Every 3 months I swore up and down that I would change my eating habits. But that never happened. I would get frustrated with myself for giving in to eating the things that I shouldn't or knew would make me sick but it didn't do a damn thing to my psyche. My endocrinologist always tried to explain the complications that would occur if I didn't start taking care of myself now, but even that wasn't the dynamite under my butt to spring me in to action. Then something scary happened. When one of my worst A1C's ever came back and I had the "tickle" test on my feet to test for nerve damage, the doctor told me that I had lost 40% of the feeling in my feet! That was the first thing to scare me out of my wits, but that scare still wasn't the much needed dynamite. Admittedly, the last 1 1/2 to 2 years haven't been real pretty with my A1C's. Then my last appointment happened. Not only were my feet not feeling everything, but my cholesterol was too high, my A1C was high, and my triglycerides were elevated. That was the last straw, or should I say the match to spark the explosion of emotions and motivation in to me taking action. That scared the daylights out of me. I was also told yet again that if I exercised, took my insulin like I should, and ate better, that I could reverse all the bad things that were showing up in my blood tests as well as any possible future complications.

So here I sit.... thankful for dynamite.

Confessions of a Recovering Sugar-holic

For the first time in probably two years of yo-yoing back and forth in taking care of myself, I am finally coming to a place inside this head of mine that is ready to start taking more responsibility for my actions, my food choices, exercising.. etc. I am listening more to my body and how it reacts to certain things I eat, even though it has been screaming from the sidelines of my thought process from the very beginning. I am recognizing the calmness of my mind and body after doing half an hour of yoga, jogging, or walking. I am transitioning, if you will, from a mindset of eating whatever I want, giving in to eating something I shouldn't just because it's there staring me in the face telling me to eat it. I am learning to forgive myself for making mistakes. I have a pretty sound knowledge based on my own experiences of eating sugary desserts and snacks of the "hangover" that occurs the next morning the day after eating them. I have learned that what matters most is my quality of life. In my diabetes support group that I go to on a monthly basis we have discussed that by the choices we make in what eat, ultimately we are choosing the kind of life we want to live. Just as with every decision we make in our lives has ramifications, so do the decisions I make on a daily basis of what I am going to eat. What I eat affects my blood sugar, my mood, my level of energy, as well as my mind.

I have learned that while many diabetics are stifflers for eating well, and exercising the moment they find out they are a diabetic this does not reflect my own story. I have always been somewhat of a spontaneous person. I go through periods of my life where I love structure and routine, to times where I just kind of go with the flow. This is how I have always been. The stupid part of this though is that the more spontaneous part of me has more than infiltrated the structure of my ever important diabetes regimen. I will sometimes do very well at taking care of myself, and sometimes I will even "forget" to give myself insulin after eating. For my quality of life, I have to eat better, and be quicker to remember to shoot up after meals. ;) I have seen the scary things that can happen when you don't take care of yourself. Diabetes is a serious disease, and when you stop caring about taking care of yourself and lose control, it wreaks havoc on your body. I don't even want to start listing the horrendous things that can happen.

The funny thing is that through all of this "learning" and "experiencing" I have a confession. I am still addicted to sugar! I always will be! I will never tell you that cupcakes, cookies, chocolate, white flour baked anythings don't look good. Pizza has always been one of my favorite things, especially my mom's homemade. The first 21 years of my existence were filled with these things. My favorite types of food were Italian and Mexican and they still are. Last night I was at a staff meeting where admittedly I ate 3 rice crispy treats. I know that I have little to no self control when it comes the sweets. What I do have is my knowledge and my myriad of experiences of making myself sick in eating crap. I have a saying that goes something like this "If you eat well, you'll feel well, if you eat crap, you will feel like crap". The other funny thing is that I know that I will still make mistakes, I will give in to that occasional treat and over indulge and pay for it later. Because I am still human. It has taken me a long time to reach this realization because I am so hard on myself. I expect perfection. I expect that even when I go to family functions, or parties or wherever I know there is going to be lots of food that I tell myself that I am going to resist the temptation to eat anything sweet. Like my sister Katie so eloquently puts it "that goes over about as well as a turd in a punch bowl".

So again my point is this: I am finally at a place in my life where I can forgive myself for my mistakes and celebrate the triumphs that I face or make every day. It is not an everyday thing for normal healthy people to have this perspective on life. In fact it just might be a little weird. My world is one of constantly looking at nutrition labels, counting carbs, medication, and needles. And instead of being embarrassed or depressed about these things, I am accepting them. Diabetes is an integral part of my life now, but it will never define me as a person.

Diabetic Decision

Today I decided to start this blog on account for myself and whoever even cares to read it. Maybe my reasons are selfish for doing so, because it is for me to talk about my everyday struggles, frustrations, as well as my little triumphs that I face. Another reason is that I am amazed that so many people have diabetes or know people that are diabetics still don't know much about the disease. I have been a diabetic for almost 4 years and STILL don't know everything there is to know about it. Just as I do in every day life, I continue to learn and understand more about this humbling disease/struggle that God has given me. So for starters here is my story.

I was officially diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes December 1, 2004. I had just barely been married August 7, 2004 to the love of my life Brandon. This was a day that would change not only my own life, but Brandon's as well forever. What led up to this you might ask? Well the summer of 2004 was spent working in Houston as a lifeguard/multiple pools manager, as well as in anticipation of my wedding. I noticed that my health and energy that summer seemed different than any other summer that I had come home to work between semesters in college. My body didn't seem to handle the heat like it used to with me feeling nauseous much of the time, endlessly exhausted, and missing lots of work. The scariest things that happened were these strange sensations I experienced where I would get cold sweats, dizziness as if drunk (enter any humorous puns into your thought process here) and getting really bad cases of the shakes. These "episodes" would later be called hypoglycemic attacks/episodes where my blood sugar would get dangerously low. All it took was eating something or drinking something with lots of sugar to help me feel better. I seemed to eat and eat and never feel satisfied, and went to the restroom a lot. The worst thing though was the extreme fatigue I experienced on a day to day basis. Little did I know my body's energy was spent fighting the extremely high blood sugars so no WONDER I was tired all the time. Well my wedding came and went, and the fall semester of my junior year began with me feeling the same. Brandon often expressed concern about me lack of energy and mood swings, but I ignored him because we were poor college students with no health insurance.

My first Thanksgiving as a married gal came and we drove up to Idaho. The drive was something I will NEVER forget. For those of you sensitive to descriptions of bodily functions stop reading NOW. We had had car trouble and got it fixed right before heading to Idaho, during which we decided to go eat at the Golden Corral. I ate normally as I did back then... all the fried chicken, and whatever other artery-clogging assortments of food to be found. That was my first mistake. It was a good 6 hours to Cambridge where Brandon was from. Let's just say we stopped just about every half hour to 45 minutes in order for me to let the food pass through me like I had drank an entire bottle of turbo-lax twice over. I was horribly sick and equally as miserable. At first I just thought it was food poisoning. Looking back, I would trade that for the impending diagnosis any day.

Over the course of that week I found myself drinking whatever non-alcoholic beverages I could get my hands on. I was a beverage drinking fiend! The ever popular over-indulgent, packing on the pounds of flubber and squish squish Thanksgiving Thursday came and I was beyond miserable. The day after I started to notice that I felt worse and worse. Sunday morning before we left to drive back to school, I woke up with my vision totally blurry and fogged up. Almost over night my vision went from a perfect 20/20 to not being able to differentiate people's faces who stood 10 to 15 feet away from me. Talk about horrifying! I realized something was extremely out of whack (not just my mind folks!) and it freaked me out. My vision driving back to Logan that night was even worse. Monday morning, I wasted no time going to my classes and then headed straight for the student health center with Brandon. I described my symptoms to the docs there and they sent me to an opthamologist to test my vision. Then I was sent over to get my blood glucose tested (the test that shows the level of sugar in your blood) and went home and waited for them to call me back in. The next morning they called me in and told me that I had elevated amounts of sugar in my blood. This obviously translated to meaning that my blood sugar (abbreviated as "BS.. haha don't laugh) was off the ricter scale of normal levels. Normal levels are anywhere between 80 and 120 before you eat, or up to 160/170 for non-diabetics after you eat. MINE WAS 583... nearly 5 times the amount of a person without diabetes. I have heard of higher though, so I was what I consider "lucky". Other people I know ended up in the hospital with a glucose of over 900. So anyway, they immediately set me up with a Diabetes Educator who would give me my first syringe with insulin and tell me to give myself a shot. That is another moment I will not soon forget. Brandon and I just sat there and cried together. I was told that I would be okay, and that diabetes was manageable if I just knew how to count carbs and match that with my insulin intake. As if I didn't hate math enough in school, I was being instructed how to add, multiply, divide and subtract numbers in my head just to survive on a day to day basis! It was all so overwhelming. I would go to the grocery store and walk up and down the aisles in tears not knowing what I could or couldn't eat because it was all so new to me. I would stare at nutrition label after another to see how many carbs everything had. My life felt like it had been dictated as to what I could eat, when I could eat, and how much I could eat. I was told to eat something every 3 hours or so to maintain stable BS's and that was NOT cool to me. I was told that as a result of my insulin regimen I would without a doubt gain weight, and then have it be difficult to take off! I felt like I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn't.

The months following this experience, as with all traumatic things came with it's ups and downs. I have gone through serious periods of denial, eating whatever I wanted. I have learned from this enough to know that even though in recent years not all foods with sugar have been BANNED from my diet, there are just certain things I can not eat because I know I will pay for it afterward. I have learned that if I eat crap, I will feel like crap. If I eat well, I will feel fantastic. My disclaimer about this is the fact that it is so true that even if you are taking care of yourself and eating all the right things, diabetes remains a very unpredictable disease and you experience high and low BS's.

The way I eat now is in nearly direct contrast to what I used to eat. I avoid all the foods that people consider "fun" to eat. My relationship with food is forever changed. Coming to realize this concept and to abide my eating habits by it has been a long time coming. I am not perfect though. I still have my cravings for chocolate (what girl doesn't??) and sugary things, but I don't eat them nearly as often as I used to, and in moderation most of the time.

Tomorrow or maybe the next day I can blog about what I have learned about myself through being a diabetic. Who knows what that might entail.