June 3rd, 2011 by KerriSparling in True Stories
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The Dexcom said 177 mg/dl and dropping, but after a full 60 minutes of cardio, I expected the graph to show a lower trend.
“Whatever,” I said, a little confused because my pre-workout blood sugar was 143 mg/dl. Felt foggy, but I was a little dehydrated so I figured I needed to get home and relax. Ignoring the cotton-ball haze I felt encased by, I grabbed my keys and gym backpack from the locker room and walked out into the parking lot. After trying to get into someone else’s black Honda Civic (forgetting, in my fog, that we replaced my old car for the Mom Car), I put the key in my car’s ignition and sat there for a few seconds.
And then a few seconds more.
It wasn’t until I was out there for about two full minutes that I thought “Hey, might want to double-check that Dexcom reading” with my meter. The receiver was now showing some double-down arrows. And my glucose meter confirmed with a bright, shiny 35 mg/dl.
“Oh, you suck,” I said directly to my diabetes. And like a fast, hot breeze, all the symptoms of the low hit in full force, as though seeing the number made it actually real. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
May 19th, 2011 by KerriSparling in Health Tips, Humor, True Stories
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Yesterday I wrote about my wedding, focusing on the parts that meant the most to me: the man I love, our families and friends, the church service, saying “I do,” and dancing ourselves silly at the reception.
But diabetes was a part of my wedding day. We did our best to keep it quiet and unnoticed, though, using several tricky methods. I’m like a diabetes wedding magician … sort of.
First things first: the dress. Wearing an insulin pump is the easiest and least intrusive way for me to take my insulin, and I wasn’t about to go off the pump just for the sake of fashion. My solution? Design a pocket to hold my insulin pump, hidden in my wedding dress. I spoke with the seamstress at Ye Olde Bridal Shoppe and she and I designed something that left the pump accessible, yet hidden.
Even if you were looking for it, the pump pocket was almost impossible to find. Hidden along the seam of my wedding gown, it was held shut with a small piece of velcro. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
May 15th, 2011 by KerriSparling in True Stories
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September will mark 25 years for me with type 1 diabetes, but I still haven’t learned that an afternoon of lazy 200+ mg/dl’s that won’t budge, even after multiple boluses (and one really solid rage bolus where I actually grunted “You. Frigging. Diabetes.” as my fingers mashed the buttons), after repeated tests that showed climbing numbers … wouldn’t you think I’d inspect that infusion set? Maybe just give it a peek? See how things are doing there, on the back of my hip, where that 6 mm cannula is resting (hopefully) comfortably?
Oh, you mean I shouldn’t have waited until I smelled that distinct scent? The one that smells like a cross between bandaids and the dentist’s office? And then, when I dabbed at the gauze patch around my site and felt the dampness, I still didn’t really hone in on it because I was so high that everything was on like a 20 minute delay? Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
May 8th, 2011 by KerriSparling in True Stories
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So on Sunday night, I finished singing BSparl her bedtime song and leaned in to tuck her into her crib. But because she was giggling and reaching for me, I leaned in to give her an extra hug.
NEVER GO IN FOR THE EXTRA HUG.
Or at least that’s what someone should have whispered in my ear.
Because when I leaned it, she happened to reach up at the same time and her thumb met my eye with such force that it knocked me to my knees. Apparently, her thumb nail scraped off a section of my cornea (or, as my eye doctor said, “You know when you eat string cheese and you pull a section of the cheese off?” Thanks, Dr. S. I will never, ever eat string cheese again. Ever.) and severely damaged my eye. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
May 3rd, 2011 by KerriSparling in Humor, True Stories
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Growing up, we had these large, potted plants in our dining room, within throwing distance from the dining room table. (Stick with me – this is an important detail.) The plants were big and had wide, draped leaves and they made the corner of the dining room look like a veritable jungle.
Also, these suckers were really convenient for hiding food.
When I was little, the “diabetic diet” school of thought was based on the exchange program. This meant that my meals were structured around my calorie needs and the needs of my (then) peaking insulin doses. An average dinner would include one meat exchange, two starch exchanges, a dairy exchange, a fat exchange, and a fruit exchange. (Exchange, exchange, exchange.) When I was on insulins like Regular, NPH, and Lente, I needed to consume these portions in proportion, or I would end up with a very high, or very low, blood sugar.
So my mother (bless her anecdotal-medical-degree’d heart) would carefully measure out these exchanges and that would be my dinner. EXACTLY one meat exchange, and those two starches, etc. She worked very hard to make sure my meals were calculated and well-balanced.
And in response, I would hide my vegetables – aka “gross things” – in the dining room plants. Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Six Until Me.*
