Nerd, Party Of One.

Actual conversation (via text messages) between Aaron and I last night, while he was sitting in night class:

Aaron: Guy sitting in front of me is wearing a Ping.

Me: WHAT

Aaron: GUY SITTING IN FRONT OF ME IS WEARING A PING! Better?

Me: You know what I meant, dammit!

Me: Also, I have the urge to crash your class and tackle hug him. But maybe that's just me.

Aaron: Well, he's sitting, so that would be weird. Plus you might disconnect his pump.

Me: I can be ninja-like in my pouncing. Plus, I'd have a spare infusion set on hand for him. Win!

Aaron: I think every ninja should have a spare infusion set on hand for that exact reason.

Me: I think that's the best rule in the history of the world, ever.

I will seriously tackle hug this guy if I ever meet him. And if he ever reads this, it will be just that much more awkward.

Nerd, party of one? Oh, yes. That's me.

You Can Do This Project - Updates.

I've got a couple of things to share with you guys.

First, last week marked the sixth giveaway from Hope Paige Medical to the You Can Do This Project community, which was originally supposed to wrap up the contest.

But wait!

Hope Paige Medical has graciously offered to continue the giveaways, in support of the YCDT Project community. Every other week for ten more weeks, you'll have a chance to win a free engraved medical ID from the six designs listed in my original giveaway post. Yay!

Starting with the giveaway that will happen next week, the contest is moving to www.youcandothisproject.com, so look for the reminder posts (every other Thursday) - and winner announcements (the following Fridays) - there. (When the project started, I didn't have the domain yet - and didn't want to change up the giveaway rules in the middle of the contest. This seems like a good place to transition.)

Speaking of which - last week's winner is...

Sue (RFamHere)!

Congratulations, Sue! Please send me an email at textingmypancreas@gmail.com (including your phone number), and I'll get you in contact with Hope Paige Medical to redeem your free medical ID.

And second, I got an email last week from Faith, who wanted to contribute to the You Can Do This Project in a different way. She already has a "store" established on Zazzle for her photography business, but has now added several items with the YCDT logo - you can find them by clicking here.

If you're wondering about where the money goes: Faith has set the prices to as low as Zazzle will allow, which includes a 10% royalty. Faith and I talked it over, and this 10% will be donated to the Diabetes Research Institute. It's a win-win!

I thought it was a cool idea - a way to carry a little reminder of the project around with you. A little mental pick-me-up when you need it, but can't watch a video. A reminder that you're never alone.

Just Go.

This post is mostly for me. Sorry.

I need something to go back to, to remind myself of what I often allow myself to become too busy or distracted or exhausted to recognize. I've done it so many times before, and I know myself well enough to know that I'll do it again. And again.

But maybe this will help me remember a time or two.

With that in mind, Kim:

When things are going north, go for a walk. Bring the dog with you. It will be fun, and you'll feel better, and that graph will get whipped back into shape. You'll feel better tomorrow, and have better numbers, and probably be a little less tired too, although I know that doesn't make a whole lot of sense.


Just go for the walk.


Just go.

Diabetes Art Day 2011.

Do you know what a week from today is?

...yes, it's Thursday.

...yes, it's also the first of September.

...oh, right, and you probably saw the title of this post.

September 1st, 2011 marks the second annual Diabetes Art Day, created and facilitated by the fabulous Lee Ann Thill, and I'm super excited! Last year, I did a drawing by hand representing how I feel about the robot parts I wear. This year, I'm actually not sure what I'm going to do - but I'm pumped (ha) about whatever that will be.

If you aren't familiar with Diabetes Art Day, here's the scoop (in Lee Ann's words):

It’s a way for us to tell our stories so we can connect and share with each other and with our loved ones. It’s a way to generate diabetes awareness outside of the DOC by sharing artwork on Facebook, Twitter, blogs and community websites. 

Diabetes Art Day is for people young and old with any type of diabetes and their families, so children, spouses, parents, siblings, or anyone who is affected by diabetes can participate. For this one day, you’re encouraged to break out of your linguistic comfort zone, bust out some art materials, and make a piece of artwork – painting, drawing, collage, sculpture, an installation piece, a mixed media something or other, or whatever you can imagine.

 Whether you have lots of experience making art or none at all, Diabetes Art Day is for you to show the world what it’s like to live with diabetes in that “a picture is worth 1000 words” kind of way.

Details on how to participate (like, for instance, where do I upload the dang thang?) can be found on the Diabetes Art Day website, and if you'd like to talk about it on Twitter - hey, there's a hashtag too! (It's #DArtDay.)

Get out your pencils, markers, stickers, paint, pastels, charcoal, glue, glitter, frosting, googly eyes... and get to creating already!

It Was A Ruff Walk.

So, we've got this dog, right?

Like good doggie parents, Aaron and I have been trying to get in the habit of taking him for a walk as often as possible. Which, as you may guess by the shenanigans I mentioned in yesterday's post, didn't really happen this weekend.

I felt bad.

Last night as I left work, I thought, This is it! I'll make it up to him! Billy Corgin and I will go on such a long walk that he won't even know what hit him!

Instead - I was the one who got hit with something.

I had packed up my CGM receiver, phone, glucose tabs, lip balm, and plastic bags in my not-a-fanny-pack-dang-it, filled up a thermos with water, coaxed him into his harness and leash, and off we went.

With a pre-sweatbetes blood test of 84, and a Juicy Juice and Nutrigrain bar freshly deposited into my bloodstream, I felt confident that this walk would be epic. I would get through this without a low. Billy and I would stay hydrated. I would do that polite head nod thing to our fellow pedestrians, and Billy would happily wag his tongue at them, and we'd get our workout on like normal people.

It was going to be like this:

You may have guessed where this is headed.

First, he was a poop factory, and I ran out of plastic bags. (Sorry, neighbor on the other side of the 'hood - I'll bring more bags next time.)

Then, he'd start pulling away from me (like he needed to do his thing), but instead he'd just plop down in the grass to take a breather. "No, dude, keep walkin'. We aren't even halfway yet." And so I'd tug, and he wouldn't put his legs out under him until the last second (the last second being the one before he hit pavement). It felt like dragging a pancake on a string around. I felt like a horrible dog mom, certain that the driver of each passing car was mentally chastising me and my unsophisticated canine motivating skills.

When we had reached our halfway point at about the 30 minute mark, we both took a water break. I had noticed that my legs were feeling a little bit noodley, and took a gander at my CGM.

Say it with me: Nooooooo...

I was lucky that little William was content to sit in the shade while I shoved my face with glucose tabs recovered.

And when we finally got going again, but I still didn't feel great, he seemed to know that it was now his turn to be the motivator amongst us.

It's cool, Mom. I'll take it from here.

He's a good pupster, that Billy Corgin. He's a keeper.

Sometimes.

Sometimes diabetes tries to ruin your pajamas.

Sometimes you have the willpower to turn down cupcakes made of ice cream.

Sometimes you finally get around to ordering a medical ID for yourself, because apparently all of the cool kids are doing it.

Sometimes diabetes goes with you to a concert, and you feel compelled to take a "this is what I'm holding up instead of a lighter" picture.

And sometimes you win a ridiculous amount of tickets at Dave and Busters because you watched one of the games long enough to figure out how to win every other round. 

Shhhh.

(It was a fun weekend.)

Happy Friday, Yo.

A couple things to leave you with, as I bid you a happy weekend:

1. Last week's giveaway winner was "Jennifer from Hurricane", but I have yet to hear from said Jennifer. If that's you, would you please send me an email at textingmypancreas@gmail.com? Thanks. :)

2. That U.N. Summit scheduled for September 18th has hit a snag - read more about that here.

3. Billy is so totally ready for football season. I mean, he may not be HAPPY about it... but he's ready.

Please Don't Notice.

Low blood sugars in the workplace are one of my least favorite things.

I had one yesterday - but not a run-of-the-mill, shaky sweaty kind of thing. Nope, this one walked right up and punched me in the face with one of those huge Incredible Hulk fists.

image credit

See, that's the worst part for me - that WHAM! feeling of helplessness, where I'm trapped at my desk and I'm just praying that no one who comes within a five foot radius of me decides to strike up a conversation, because every bit of my energy is focused on trying to appear normal. My mind is this scared, panicking child trapped in an adult body and that child is pleading with all its might that no one notices what's happening.

If only Jodie Foster would come rescue me.

(I might also hope that no one notices that I've had three snacks that morning already - none of which seem to be doing a darn thing, I'd like to point out.)

Rationally, I know that I just need to treat the low and sit tight for a bit. Rationally, I realize that people are generally kind and understanding, and that if I really needed to, I could go hang out in the break room and not be bothered.

But "rational" isn't the state I'm in when my blood sugar is in the same range as my age.

When I feel that way, I know I can't do my best work. (Actually, sometimes I can't even form thoughts or words very accurately - so work is pretty down low on the ol' totem pole.) I know I shouldn't try to do anything right then because my mind isn't operating at full speed, nor are my motor skills cooperating. And yet, I can't help but feel guilty if I do what I need to do - which would be sitting there and recovering for a few minutes. Because "sitting there and recovering" looks an awful lot like "slacking off and not working", and I'm not all about that.

Lows at work feel worse than any others, because not only am I dealing with the symptoms of that lack of glucose in my bloodstream, but I'm also trying to (over) compensate for myself. 

The hardest part is balancing the appearance of a "normal" outside with the temporary raging chaos inside.

Wordless Wednesday: "Tee Hee!" Edition.

Cartoon found in my local newspaper. Batman "gets it".
Click image to enlarge.

Make Sense, It Does Not.

There's a monstrosity of mostly-carnivorous celebration once a year nearby, named "Ribfest". As the name would suggest, there's a lot of food to be tried - ribs, pork, brisket, and just anything you can name On A Stick. Midwestern sterotyping at it's finest.

Aaron and I headed there for lunch on Sunday, and investigated several options before landing on a 1/3 slab of ribs and a pulled pork sandwich to share between us. Afterwards, we thought we'd give the funnel cake a go. (Okay, the funnel cake was mostly for me - Aaron got the cookie dough on a stick. Neither disappointed our 'This Is So Totally Bad For Me' tooth.)

Seeing as how the composition of a funnel cake is much like a donut - mostly fat and sugar - I expected significant CGM graph shenanigans for the next several hours. I tested; I bolused; I ate; I waited for the rocket launch.

Except that it never came.

Somehow the magical combination of walking, sunshine, mega-bolus, and luck meant that I never left the 105 - 135 range. Success!

Later that day, we had sweet corn for dinner. Just sweet corn - we weren't that hungry, and a stop at a roadside farmer's stand meant we'll be eating fresh, locally grown veggies all week. (Yay!)

I guessed 30g of carb for two ears, based on the Ping remote's food listings of "corn on cob wht - 13" and "corn on cob yell - 25". (They were speckled with both.) It wasn't until ten or so minutes after eating that I heard Jim vibrating from the kitchen counter.

"HIGH - 180". My CGM was currently reading me at 226, and I stayed above 200 for the next few hours, despite the two correction boluses I threw at it.

So let's get this straight - a funnel cake keeps me in range, but sweet corn sends me to the moon?

I'm not sure even Yoda could explain this one, but I'd sure like to hear him try.