When Life Gives You Lancets

Don't you just hate it when the first prick decides to bleed only after you've already pricked a second time??

Oh well, when life gives you lancets, don't just make finger pricks... make smiley faces!

Have a happy Sunday, everyone!

What is Quickly Becoming My Newest Pet Peeve...

Oh, the reassuring things people say... not.

You Know You're Diabetic When...

Here's a little bit of diabetic Monday-humour to hopefully get your week started off with a smile or two. Don't despair. Friday will be here again before you know it.

You know you're diabetic when...

You say that you feel “high” in public and then wonder why people around you give you weird looks.

You can have a debate about the best and worse glucose tab flavors, and take it seriously.

You are abnormally good at multiplying by 15 (Thankyou, carb counting!)

You think that diet soda is normal and regular soda tastes completely disgusting.

You have a year's worth of Crystal Light stashed away in your closet.

Just hearing the word “dessert” makes your blood sugar rise.

Any restaurant bragging about it’s amazing “pasta & pizza” is your definition of a Torture Chamber.

A really great day for you is defined as “90-120″ — which means nothing to most people you know.

Eating a piece of fruit is a REALLY BIG DEAL in your life.

Your often get the feeling that your life is like one big science experiment.

You find teeny tiny blood stains on lots of your shirts, and near jacket pockets.

Blood-glucose testing becomes a fun sort of game to see where your blood sugars are at.

You’re parents ask how you’re doing and you tell them your blood sugar.

You have test strips all over you purse, car, and bedroom.

You think it’s funny seeing the look on people’s faces when you give an injection in public restroom.

Seeing the initials "BS" makes you think of "Blood Sugar" and using the term doesn't get you in trouble.

You use being low as an excuse when you do something dumb, but get extremely offended if you're in a bad mood and someone tells you to test your sugar.

You know what the terms diabetic ketoacidosis, glucagon, basal/bolus, and endocrinologist mean.

You know the amount of carbohydrates in basically every food known to man.

You have a favorite flavor of glucose tabs (and you know what they are).

You notice a friend’s been drinking a lot and you automatically assume they must be an undiagnosed diabetic.

You get incredibly tired of having to explain to people 'no I don't have the same thing as you're 800 pound grandma...' (especially if you're type 1).

Instead of butter in the butter compartment of your refrigerator, there's insulin.

You can chug a bottle of water REALLY fast.

You cut yourself on something and use it as an opportunity to test your blood sugar.

You stare at a child eating an ice cream cone and try to work out how much that would raise your BG levels.

When you calculate the carb intake of everyone else’s meal... then they say they don't eat much and wonder why they are overweight.

You’re in a restaurant and you’re the only one not devouring the basket of dinner rolls.

You cross your fingers while doing your morning test because you fell for that late night craving the day before.

You can guess your blood sugar based on how vigorously mosquitoes are attacking you.

The Non-Self Help Book for Diabetes

Erica and I deliberated and came up with an idea which will help get my mind off the doom-and-gloom of having diabetes, and focus more on the humorous side of it. I don't like self help books, so my "book" is the opposite; it's basically just a new journal I have started documenting all of my new adventures, like how it is to learn to give yourself insulin shots when your biggest fear IN THE ENTIRE WORLD is needles. These days I need all the ways to rant and rave that I can get, and I figure it will help me to feel better. So I have my book (who knows? maybe I'll publish and become a gazillionare one day, create an artifical pancreas and ka-zam!, no more diabetes for me) - and I have this blog, and both will sort of follow that "non-self-help" theme. So a lot of things I write in my book I will put down here for y'all to read if you are interested - which I don't know if you are, but if you are, I'm honored!

Hey, at least now I have a lot to blog about.

The first chapter of my book is titled,

1.

Diabetes is for Masochists

This is a suitable chapter title. In fact, the term "masochist" is a suitable adjective for Diabetes.

For those of you who were like me just a week ago, allow me to educate you a bit on Type 1 Diabetes. Doctors do not really know why you get it, which kind of frustrates me because I'd sure as hell like to know what I could have NOT done in order to avoid getting Diabetes.

Anyways, moving on. Diabetes Type 1 is basically a disease where your pancreas attacks itself, fails and causes you to stop creating insulin, which is necessary because it allows sugar - food for cells - into the cells. It is not to be confused with Diabetes Type II, which has more to do with genetics and unhealthy lifestyle. You can be perfectly healthy and just "get" diabetes type I, though you usually do when you are younger. There is no cure, and Diabetes Type 1 MUST be treated with Insulin or YOU WILL DIE! Afterall, when a bad pancreas causes insulin production to stop, sugar can't get into your cells, and this is, as you might imagine, very bad.

So, imagine your pancreas has now stopped functioning properly. Let us walk through this experience.

You will notice that you have to drink water about every .012765 seconds and then about 5 seconds later you will have to use the bathroom - what water weight?

You will lose a ton of weight because your cells are basically being starved - a revolutionary diet plan!

Even though you're POSITIVE that you are full, you will still feel like you have plenty of room for that extra slice of pizza or birthday cake - but don't worry, because remember, you're losing weight! Eat whatever you want! Calories don't count!

However, the fun, unfortunately, must come to and end. All of those sleepless nights from having to get up and pee, all of those insane calorie-laden food-eating escapades; no, I am afraid they do not go on forever. You might just end up like me; strapped to a stretcher and whisked away to the ICU.

So now, insulin or death?

"YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT BEFORE I EAT EVERY MEAL?!"

Two nurses corner me on my first day back to consciousness, needles on each side, and jab me. Tears stream down my face. I am usually well put-together but needles ... those hold a very deep-rooted place of hate within me.

You have no need to worry of my ever being a heroin addict, or any kind of drug that involves needles (well, nor any kind of drug, of course).

Because I fear the needle.

Let me say that again.

I HATE NEEDLES!

Ever since I was a little girl, I knew that needles and I did not get along. I dreaded every school shot, cried every time I had to get one, and if I saw anyone as a potential threat to my needle-less life I usually fled the room STAT, even to this day. I abandon all maturity, the blinds come off, and I am a freaking baby when it comes to getting shots.

So imagine my ecstatic joy when I found out I was diabetic.

For Diabetics, eating is quite a process.

1. Diabetics must first test their blood sugar before every meal. This requires a handy device called a lancet, which is basically a fancy word for "sharp object from the stone age required for pricking finger". Seriously. I can download an app for my phone that detects metal, but the best thing they have come up with to test my blood sugar involves a freaking needle? Where is the technology here?

2. Then, depending on my blood sugar level, I give myself a dose of short-acting insulin into an area of fat on my body. This means on my belly, my thighs, my butt, or the back of my arm (how I am supposed to give myself a shot on the back of the arm while pinching fat I have yet to figure out). I have these handy "insulin pens" I set up so I can inject myself. I have to clean the area, then pinch it, then insert the needle. Hold 10 seconds and enjoy the pain. Remove. This injection will cover the amount of insulin I need to digest my meal, because everyone knows that shots before meals are the perfect way to build an appetite!

3. So now I am all ready to eat. YUM! But wait - I can't eat just anything; I must carefully study the nutritional labels first. Previously I really only scanned these labels for the calorie count - yes, I will admit to being quite figure-conscious - but now the important thing to watch here is the carbohydrates. I challenge you to do that at your next meal. Count your carbs. I'm supposed to eat roughly 45 carbs per meal. Items higher than 60 carbs will probably send my blood sugar through the roof... but we have yet to test that on a milkshake yet!

I have eaten my meal. Now I am done with that whole ordeal, until my next meal, where I must do the process over again. So I get a minimum of 4 shots a day plus Blood Glucose tests. I am a walking, living, breathing, overused pincushion. For masochists, this would be a very fun and exciting experience. You get to hurt yourself AT EVERY MEAL!

Unfortunately, I do not have the good favor of having been born with masochistic tendencies. Only diabetic ones. This past week I have had to brave the needle and, let me tell you, if you have seen me (especially after all the weight loss) it is tough to keep finding fat to inject needles into! (This is not to say I want to be fat - come to think of it, I'm not sure I've ever seen a fat Type 1 diabetic).

Rest assured all you masochists and non-masochists out there, there's sure to be more updates on my learning to shoot up later (No - still not a druggie!)

So I hope you've been reasonably entertained enough to want to read more. More later...