"I Need Some Sugar! Do You Have Any Sugar?"

It was an all-weekend trip for work to Columbus, where I had three jobs lined up on Friday and Saturday. I'd visited Ft. Benning (the site of my first job) and visited my friend Crystal from Wesleyan afterwards. I stayed the night with Crystal Friday, having a great time with her and her family, being treated to Teriyaki Salad, doing facials, and watching movies that we actually got from a real-life Blockbuster (they still exist!) In the morning, we slept in and then had a delicious breakfast before I got ready for work. All in all, I'd had a fantastic time. It was so nice to get to see someone from school over the summer. I actually did miss Wesleyan a lot more than I thought I would! I can't wait to start back in the fall.

After leaving Crystal's and on my way to my first Saturday job, Kelle, who lives in Auburn - only about 30 mins. away from Columbus - called. We'd talked about me going to visit her but had failed to really make any plans. I answered the phone. "Hey! Did you say you were coming today or tomorrow?" Kelle's familiar voice asked. I hadn't planned yet on coming either... but jumped at the opportunity! It wasn't everyday that I got to see my best friend, who had moved from Florida to a little town in North Carolina when we were in freshman year of High School. The last time I had seen Kelle was last year, during my infamous sleepover when I got diagnosed with Diabetes (mentioned here as one of my friends). I'd been laying in a heap on the floor back then, so it hadn't the most pleasant of goodbyes. Kelle and I made plans over the phone. "But, I won't be there until about 5 or 5:30," I told her. "That's about 4:30 here", she replied. I hadn't even known I'd be switching time zones! I thought it cool that I'd gain back an extra hour of my day.

I finished both of my parties, tired and exhausted but ready to go see Kelle. I plugged in her address into the GPS and set off through Columbus. I'd been through downtown once before but never realized how close I was to Alabama (it had been dark at the time). Now I crossed over a bridge with a beautiful view of the river below and was greeted by a sign that welcomed me to Phenix City, Alabama.

I drove on towards Highway 280 West, and stopped at a gas station to refill, change out of my Cinderella dress, and get a Diet Root Beer. Gas was $3.18, which seemed like a good deal to me. It was a while before I reached 85 and began to travel past Opelika and reach Auburn. Gas here was as low as $3.06! I felt robbed! I got off the exit, excited to reach my destination. I reached the correct apartments and gave Kelle a call to see where I should park. I found visitor parking and that's where my truck came to rest. I took a moment to test, having not had time to eat anything at all today in between my parties. 62, and I knew I'd fall fast if I didn't get anything to eat soon. But I got out of the car, grabbing my purse, and heard that oh-so familiar voice. "Did you get taller again?" My beautiful friend strode over, wearing a strapless dress and boots. I hugged her elatedly. "Everyone always says that, but I don't think so!" I told her. (It was true, everyone always did think I was taller when they hadn't seen me for a while, but my actual height had yet to prove this to be true).

We walked up a flight of stairs to the second-floor landing and entered her apartment. Kelle's fiance, Jeff, was there (I couldn't even remember the last time I'd seen Jeff, who had gone to school with me back in Freshman year at Smith Prep). Kelle, who lived in North Carolina at the time, had come down to visit me and I'd thought that Jeff would make good company for us as we hung out at the mall. Matchmaking win.

Jeff and his roommate went off to watch the UFC fight at Buffalo Wild Wings, so after I got some food from Kelle to stave off my low, Kelle and I decided to do some shopping for dinner at Publix. While it had been 5:30 when I had left for Auburn, it was about 5:20 now that I was actually here. Time traveling! We reached the Publix, which was decorated in the front entryway with Auburn paintings. I could tell that the town had a lot of team spirit! We browsed through all of the aisles, everyone stopping to say hello to Kelle, who worked there. We got some vegetables, meat, and decided on a yummy looking pair of steaks for $10, potatoes, and grilled zucchini and squash for dinner. We checked out and Kelle took me driving through Auburn to see the sights. It was gorgeous! Auburn was like a city. There was just so much of... everything! Tiger pawprints sat right in the middle of the road, painted in orange, and led us to campus. I saw the dorms, the huge stadium, and all of the beautiful brick architecture. With the exception that Auburn dwarfed my little school, the brick buildings made me reminisce of Wesleyan's own rich history and beautiful buildings.

We reached the apartments again and both took in as many groceries as we could hold so as to not have to make a second trip. We put things away, then took out all of the veggies and sliced them up, putting them on a frying pan to grill with seasoning. We put the potatoes on a low boil, and when we finished the vegetables went down to the pool to grill our steaks. It was chilly after the rain - much colder than I'd anticipated - and I huddled next to the grill fire for warmth. We made it back to the apartment, finished all of the other food, and sat down to eat on the sofa in front of Aladdin, which was playing on the TV. It was a delicious dinner, and I was ravenous. I didn't bolus a bit, and by the time I fell asleep that night, I felt fine but had forgotten to check my blood sugar before bed.

The next morning I woke up to mom calling me at 9:15 (eastern time). It was 8:15 here. I answered the phone groggily. "Mom, it's 8:15 here!" "Oh! Sorry," she told me. "I just wanted to call and make sure you made it all right. And tell Kelle to call her mom, she's worried about the shootings last night." Shootings? "I'll tell her," I told mom. "We're all fine. Love you. Bye!" Kelle rolled over. "Call your mom", I said. "Apparently there were two shootings here last night!" We sat in the bed, talking, after Jeff had filled us in from the other room about what had happened. Two football players and one other person had been shot and killed - quite close to the apartment complexes we were at, actually. It had made National News. Kelle and I continued to talk through the morning, but soon the familiar shaky feeling came over me and I pushed it away like a bad thought.

After a time it had become hard to ignore, though, and I sat up quickly. "I really need to check my blood sugar," I said, walking into the kitchen where my meter was. 10 seconds later, I had my result: a solemn 50 staring at me from the screen. "Do you have any sugar?" I yelled to Jeff and Kelle. "I really need some. Any that you have." Kelle looked at me confusedly. "Sugar?" She asked. Jeff came out into the kitchen, the same puzzled look on his face. "Umm..." He opened the pantry door and rummaged around for a moment. A few seconds later he emerged, holding a white bag in his hands. It was a bag of sugar! "You actually eat straight sugar?" I stared between him and Kelle for a second and laughed. "No! Of course not!" I laughed a second time. I was unused to being around people who didn't know my Diabetic habits. Jeff seemed relieved as he put the sugar back into the pantry. I went on to explain, "Saying "sugar" is just out of habit for me. I really just mean anything with carbs - just check the back of nutrition labels. Something over 15 grams of carbs is good for a low." Jeff ended up grabbing some Italian Ice out of the fridge for me - I took it back to Kelle's room and ate it. It was much more delicious than eating sugar! Soon enough, I felt much better.

We spent the whole day shopping at the boutiques in downtown Auburn. They were adorable! Handmade jewelry, designer dresses, local artists, and all of the Auburn paraphernalia you could possibly imagine... I was in love. The sights and smells were new and unique to me. Kelle and I sat in one shop for at least an hour, trying to decide which jewelry we liked the best. I finally decided on a pair of pretty blue feather earrings - I'd always wanted some - and some pretty blue and green earrings with gold dreamcatcher feathers hanging on the bottom.


It was fantastic! I had such a good time I could hardly believe it. It seemed like it had been ages since I had gone shopping with a friend. Not just to find stuff to buy, but to have an experience - bonding and just simply having girl time together with a childhood best friend. My heart was happy. It began pouring as we headed to a shopping center called Tiger Town to browse, so we made our way back through the downpour in the car carefully. We were starved! Kelle and I (Kelle cooked - mostly I sat and watched) browned some meat in a pan and cooked up a fajita salad. I felt like my friends were really treating me this weekend to low-carb meals! The salad was delicious. We sat and talked a while longer, and I had a cup of coffee before my long two-hour trip back to Forsyth. Kelle soon had to leave for work, and as she got ready in her Publix Uniform I did a quick run-through to make sure I had all of my stuff.

5:15 PM (central time). It was time to leave. We walked down to the parking lot, where our vehicles were parked next to each other. The sun had begun to come out. Gosh, I was bad at goodbyes. We stared at each other, two girls who had known each other for years. I hadn't seen Kelle in over a year, but in between the time that had elapsed from then and now, it felt like not a single thing had changed. Our lives had changed, but not us. We had so much history together that I began to believe that we'd probably always be best friends. We gave each other long hugs, and I smiled at Kelle. "See you soon," I said, shutting the door to the truck.








The time had passed too quickly, but the memories that the last weekend had given me would last a lifetime.

Hypothetical Wall-Kicking Session

UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Warning: This blog is purely a rant.

Today is one of those days where I just want to kick and scream, cry, and throw something at the wall, all at the same time. Because today is one of those days where, no matter what it seems that I do, Diabetes has bested me.

This morning was perfectly fanfreakingtastic. I woke up with a Blood Glucose of 76 and was happy with where I was at. I've been eating cereal for the past few breakfast's, as opposed to my usual breakfast of eggs and toast. There are no eggs here, in Statesboro with Josh, hence eating the cereal. I should probably go get some but I am stubborn. So this continuous eating of cereal was probably my first mistake. Ever since getting Diabetes I have tried to stay away from eating cereal because I like to eat copious amounts of the stuff. I love cereal. And when you have Diabetes this is a problem. If you bolus for a certain amount of cereal, then you should only eat said amount of cereal. Eating more than Bolused-for amounts of cereal leads to higher-than-intended blood sugars. I tried giving myself 3 units of what Novolog I have left to cover me, however this usually leads to mid-afternoon lows and so I switched it back down to 2. However, 2 is usually too little, and what I really need to be giving myself is 2.5. However, my Novolog pen only does insulin in whole units. My new Humalog pen does half units, however, if you know how frustrating insurance companies can be (namely Government-owned ones) then you can sympathize with me when I say that by no means do you ever want to be wasteful because there's no way of saying how much crap you'll have to put up with before you can get your next prescription refill. So I'm doing my best to make do and use what I have in order to avoid having to deal with *shudder* CVS and their God-forsaken special people any sooner than I have to. What a mess.

I've found that Diabetes is usually a good indicator of what is and isn't good for you. Special K usually leaves my blood sugar reasonably happy if I bolus and eat accordingly. On the other hand Captain Crunch Crunch Berries usually turn my Diabetes into the equivalent of a PMS'ing Bipolar woman. You can guess which cereal I had this morning when I checked 4 hours later and my BG was at 157. Perhaps it may seem like I'm being too hard on myself, 157 isn't that bad after all, but I have enjoyed near-perfect Diabetes management for the past month and had managed to bring my BG average down to 87. Now I have watched as all my past month's work has been undone in the last week and a half after a string of respective highs has sent my BG springboarding back towards an average of 108. Thanks, Diabetes.

So Josh, his roommate who's name is coincidentally also Josh, and his girlfriend Kara and I go to a Mexican Restaurant (this word brought to you by spell check -- why can't I ever spell that word right??) today for lunch and in an attempt to be good I order the taco shell-less salad instead of a burrito and chips like everyone else. Another question - why is the most healthy item on the menu always one of the most expensive? I give myself one unit of Novolog to cover whatever carbs might be in the salad and to calm down my raging blood sugar and I feel really good for the rest of the afternoon. I check my blood sugar again at 6:30 and smile to see that it is at 82 - hurrah! I've done something right! Lunch was late today so I didn't really feel like having a whole other meal for dinner. I opt instead for a 19-carb ice cream bar and decide not to give myself any insulin, seeing as, being full, I'm not planning on eating for the rest of the night, and I'd end up going to bed lower than I'd like. 1.5 hours later I feel a little funny. My heartbeat is racing a bit, I feel kind of shaky... am I low? That would make absolutely no logical sense. I go to check my BG just in case.

187.

W.T.F?!
That can't be right. I wash my hands again.

150.
Come on, One Touch, what is your problem? What kind of excuse do you have to have for a margin of error like that?

I check again.
Error 5: Not enough blood on the test strip.
So much for not being wasteful.

Take 4.
177.

I end up feeling frustrated and defeated. I have no earthly clue what the hell my Blood Sugar really is, why I feel funny, and I do not  understand why a 19-carb ice cream bar that would usually have no negative effect on my Blood Sugar sent it skyrocketing over 100 points. I just want to collapse on the floor into a ball of self pity and cry.

Diabetes is a mystery to me. Sometimes my Diabetes behaves perfectly, responding to my careful treatment with respect and good behavior. And other times, despite my best attempts, I get days like this, where it seems that no matter what I try and do, I can do nothing right. I don't know why my Blood Sugar is acting so crazy lately. Is it because I am nearing the end of my honeymoon period and need to up my basal? Is it because is is nearing a month since I started using this pen of Novolog and the insulin has now lost its potency? Is it because it's that time of the month? Is it because Diabetes is a freaking lunatic? Are the Diabetes Gods looking down on me with a magnifying glass in the full sunlight and laughing loudly amongst themselves?

I do not understand.
I could be less hard on myself but I cannot afford to. I want to be one the few to live over 50 years with Diabetes, to experience no complications. It is a near impossible task, but if I am one of the few to have gotten Type 1 Diabetes, than why on Earth can't I be one of the few to live a long and healthy, complication-free life despite of it? But it is so much easier said than done. I have to up my efforts, have to prevent myself from slipping up. I do not want to go through days like this. I do not want these highs to happen. I realize they are sometimes unavoidable but why, how, when I am trying so hard? Diabetes control isn't rocket science. But sometimes I think that it's harder. There is no set formula to figuring out Diabetes, no tried and true way to manage it, that works for everyone. Like fingerprints, everyone's Diabetes is unique. And eating low carb can work but I want to live my life, too. I can't just live my whole life eating only salad and broccoli. What kind of a life is that? I want to enjoy food like I always used to, but it is so hard to find the balance when you have to continuously try harder to count carbs, stay on top of your swinging basal rates, emotionally manage the stress of all the bad days. Watch out, Diabetes. If I have to deal with another week of this, first thing I'm doing post-Fourth of July is going to the store, buying myself a nice food scale, and counting my carbs like it's nobody's business.

I hate Diabetes.
The feeling appears to be mutual.

Diabetes: Episode at 2 AM - The Hypoglycemia Strikes Back

Yesterday was a highly productive day, as far as Summer Break days go.
I spent the morning blogging and then drove over to our moonwalk warehouse down the street to wash my truck.
And boy, did my truck need washed.
I got my truck in September of last year -
I have not washed it once.
It actually didn't look that bad, all things considered... well, so I thought, until I actually started washing it, that is.

After I got it hosed off and got a good coat of soapy cleaning solution rubbed in, I realized that my truck had been so dirty that you could hardly tell how white it really was. The difference was akin to the difference between a pothole and the Grand Canyon. I didn't even know that white could feasibly be that dirty while still managing to be white. The start of my cleaning left streaks of pearly white crisscrossing all over the tepid grey coat of dirt that had settled on my truck for far too long.

I had figured I wouldn't be out there too long, so I didn't bother with sunscreen. I just stayed out in the brilliant, blinding hot Floridian sun with my white-white pale skin.

And fried, unsuspectingly enough, as I scrubbed and windex-ed, washed out the tailbed, vacuumed, waxed and launched an all-out offensive attack against any lovebugs that dared settle on my newly-cleaned car -- err, truck.

Sure, I could have saved myself the trouble, the effort, the slight hypoglycemia, and the searing sunburn by just running my truck through an automatic car wash for $5. But there's something purely satisfying about a clean, hand-washed truck. That and I was being a total cheapskate. That and I'm clearly a masochist because I just love getting highly painful sunburns in addition to testing my blood glucose and giving myself insulin shots.
I felt a little shakey after being out in the hot sun for at least two hours, so I took a break to let my car dry before applying the waxing spray. I tested my blood sugar and it was at 67; not too bad, but I didn't want to let that 67 slip into anything worse since I planned on being out there a little longer. I munched on a small granola bar and sipped a Diet Coke that I had brought along with me in the shade.

After I was convinced that my car was clean enough to be presented to the Queen, I stood back, admired my work, and drove home. It wasn't until about an hour later that I started to notice the painful sunburn developing on my arms, shoulder, neck and upper back. My blood sugar had also dropped to 57. Don't you just love your body sometimes? So I went ahead and made myself a quick dinner; tuna sandwich and an apple.
Low corrected, I let dinner settle and then was off - I have finally been inspired to work out again. I packed my meter and strips, lancet, water, a couple of snacks, glucose tabs, and glucagon kit into a backpack and biked over to the track. 2.5 miles of running-jogging-walking later, I biked back home. I ate a rice cake to stave off any low blood sugar and relaxed for the evening.
I tested before bed: 167. Kind of spiky. Hmm. I will admit to having snacked a little more than I should have. I only had a piece of fruit for bedtime snack since my sugar was that high, then gave myself Lantus, then went to bed.

My eyes flew open.
Mmmmphhhh. I muttered. Ugh.
The AC hasn't been working and the house is literally hotter than it is outside. But I am not much of a sweater, and I had woken up drenched - seriously drenched - in sweat.I felt like I had just been swimming in a pool of it. Conscience-Lacy suggested that perhaps I should check my blood sugar, just in case - now that I'm not waking up 5 times a night to use the bathroom anymore I usually sleep soundly unless low blood sugar wakes me up, which it has done only a few times before.
I turned on my bedside light and then realized how shaky my hand was. It all started to hit me. My heart was beating in my ears. I could hardly hold the lancet steady and it was two or three times before I could get a pinprick and slip the ruby red dot onto a test strip. 35. Mmmmkay, tired Lacy thought groggily.

Waaaiiit. Wha?

35? 


I had never been that low before. I had exercised at 5:30 pm. Maybe this was delayed hypoglycemia from the exercise.

But ohmygosh.

35.

OHMYGOSH.

WTF.

My body suddenly seemed to realize, "Hey, woah, wow. 35. I'm gonna be a real pain, as I always am, and start freaking out on you now. More than usual." And I suddenly felt so weak that I didn't think I could have gotten up to get to the kitchen even if I had wanted to. It was paralyzing. I thanked God I had decided, on one of my OCD cleaning raids, to put my rice cakes in the drawer in my nightstand next to my bed. I whipped the drawer open, struggled to undo the plastic, and munched on one as fast as I could.

Then it was official. The beast had been unleashed.

NEED.FOOD.NOW.

I waited a sec to regain some strength and was off to the kitchen like a marathon runner.

FOOD!

I grabbed peanut butter, I grabbed cereal, I stuck cereal in peanut butter, I ate the cereal in the peanut butter, I grabbed graham crackers, I ate graham crackers with peanut butter and graham crackers with peanut butter and blackberry jelly, I ate scoops of peanut butter with jelly, I ate just scoops of peanut butter, I ate just scoops of jelly.

Oh, how I ate.

In actuality, I didn't actually eat all of that in such copious quantities as I made it out to be, but yeah. I still ate way too much. I over-corrected. And I knew it.

As I scooped spoons of peanut butter in my mouth, I knew that I had no business eating food anymore, I had already corrected myself more than enough.

But it was like... I didn't care.

I have divided my excuses onto two hands:

1.) On one hand, hypoglycemia makes you want to shove all food, any food, in your mouth, as soon as you can get it.

2.) On the other hand, as guilty as I feel to say it, hypoglycemia is the closest I can get to feeling like a normal person again.

To feeling like you.

To feeling like I can eat what I want, when I want, without inhibitions, without the constant carb-calculator, counting away, in my head 24 hours a day, without the nagging: "DIDYOUTAKEYOURSINULINYESITOOKTHEDAMNINSULIN" conscience of mine.

And it's a really crappy feeling.
I hate it.
I feel degraded, I feel defeated, I feel beaten.
I feel like diabetes wins in moments like that.

I HATE IT! Can you possibly understand how intolerable it is sometimes? I hate feeling guilty every time I eat something. I used to feel guilty about eating because of the amount of calories, what it would make my body look like, but that is no longer top priority! I still care, but that can no longer always come first!

Now it is because of the carbs, the blood sugar, the amount of insulin I'll need, my meal plan, what my Doctors will say, my A1C, my entire well-being. Every time I eat, it is not just the carb calculator in my head but the consequence calculator, adding up all of the consequences of my actions, what I have chosen to eat, advertising my shortcomings, blaring them in my face, on full-screen TV.

I hate that Diabetes, like an unwanted guest, has entered my life uninvited, unasked for, has taken over everything. I try my best to control it but it is times like this that I feel like Diabetes is the real boss. I hate that Diabetes makes me feel bad about doing something that I am naturally supposed to be allowed to do - but because my body has failed me - I can no longer do, well, naturally. I cannot eat a sandwich without thinking of it. I cannot mindlessly spoon peanut butter into my mouth any longer. Gone are the days when I can eat free cookies at Publix like I always used to, even though I am no longer 12. And then that makes me want to cheat, because not being able to eat normally makes me want to pretend like I can eat normally any chance I get.

And you know, Irony would have it that I would have never done those things if I hadn't gotten Diabetes. I never wanted to. But now it's not because I don't want to, it's because I can't, and I no longer have the choice.


Live or die Lacy, Live or die? Is sometimes the only option that I seem to have now; the one and only, terrible question that Diabetes will ever ask of me. What kind of a choice is that?

Now that I can't, I wish from the bottom of my heart that I had dared to live more before my diagnosis. Even if it was living in that simple way. Even if I had appreciated my good health more, my ability to eat without the hassle, the strain, the calculators, the insulin, the guilt, The Diabetes.

Yes, I over-corrected for my low. I knew that I would get a high from it. I knew better. My mind was telling me I knew better the whole time I sat there, over-correcting. I knew the consequences. I knew I would wake up and my blood sugar would be something along the lines of 229. UGH. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,

And yet I did it anyways. 
I am human, I do stupid things, I succumb to weakness.

And I don't want it to happen again, but I can't honestly tell you if it will or not.
Because I am new to this, I am full of mistakes, I am Lacy Elizabeth Ball and I hate having Diabetes but I have to suck it up and live with it anyways, because to not live with it is to die.

So yes. This time, at 2 AM, the hypoglycemia struck back.
Who knows when it will strike again? Will I be ready?

Regular Routine.

Good morning, world!

Today is my half-birthday and I am only six months away from being 18!

(Hey, gimme a break here, I needed to have something interesting about today).

I am on here to write a quick blog before working on my homework for the day.

It feels great to be up early.

I woke up at 7 this morning, my cat passed out on the pillow beside me. As soon as I rolled over she took that as an "OH! LACY'S UP! TIME FOR FOOD!"

So, naturally, I had no choice in the matter.

I fed my piggy of a cat (I swear, she has more of an appetite than I do) and made some coffee.

It's such a pretty day out.

(Notice I say this before I've gone outside to feel the lovely Floridian humidity and heat. The day won't seem so pretty then).

I checked my blood sugar - yesterday evening I went to a party and though I was careful to watch my carbs and eat mostly protein (chicken and beef and cheese) I couldn't help but to have a couple of cookies and some cheesesticks. I gave myself a bit more insulin last night to cover it but apparently I didn't give myself enough...

I prick my finger and slide a test strip into the meter. My blood sugar was 413 this morning. "Holy crap!" I resisted the urge to say any bad words and grabbed a towel. Time for a shower.

After getting ready I gave myself my insulin shot, a whole 7 units before breakfast. I will definitely be going on a walk today.

Of course, at this rate, I might need to spend the whole day doing all-out sprints.

I had breakfast and went skimpy on the carbs this morning, and am trying to adjust myself to (shh - almost -) sugar-less coffee. Thankfully the coffee creamer only has 1 carb per serving, so I don't have to skimp on that. I used to drink my coffee all black but all the time I spent up in Georgia gave me quite the sweet tooth. I suppose I should get some artificial sugar but I really abhor the stuff. I just can't make myself believe it tastes natural. I know sugar is not good for you but I really have a hard time believing chemically-made sugar is any better. That is a battle for another day; finding an artificial sugar that I like! Any suggestions, anyone? And does anyone have any suggestions for good tasting sugar-free foods and brands? And what am I going to do about the sweet iced tea dilemma? I LOVE iced tea! If you are reading, please leave some comments! I need all the help I can get here!

Now I am listening to MuteMath and hoping my blood sugar goes down by lunch time. I'll give y'all an update then. Later!