LOL Cats, SUM-style
I couldn't help it. I had to. The temptation was too strong.
I just had to.
Sausage has been submitted. Let's see if she makes the LOL cut.
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June 30, 2007
June 29, 2007
Dexcom Warrior: Day Three.
Oodles going on today. Here's the rundown:
Dexcom: Dexcom and I had a very nice day yesterday. My sugars held surprisingly steady (surprising because I tend to ping all over the place) ALL DAY LONG. I didn't pop out of range once during the workday. I'm potentially chalking this up to techno-joy at the moment, though, because my A1c plummeted the months after I started pumping, and then once I fell back into old habits, it rose a bit. But there is something very reassuring about looking at the graphs and seeing good results. Positive reinforcement. Makes me want to remain steady. Oh, and Siah left it the hell 
alone, so overall it was a good day.
Dexcom at the Gym: I screwed this one up myself. Just before I headed off to work out, I was trending heavily towards a low. (The screen read 130 ... 110 ... 82 ... 70 ...) and I tested on my meter to confirm: 72 mg/dl. So I took a long swig of juice and had two pieces of cheese before I trotted off to the gym. Once I was on the treadmill, I had hit 280 mg/dl on my meter, 342 mg/dl on Dexcom. Must have over-chugged the juice. I ran instead of walking and watched the Dexcom trend me down back to 260 mg/dl. My meter showed me at 212 mg/dl. Close enough. Weight training dropped me even further, back into range at 198 mg/dl for Dexcom and 167 mg/dl for meter. The rest of the night held steady. I'll try again at the gym tonight and see if I can keep from cresting.
Dexcom Caught a Low: It worked! At about 2 am, the Dexcom started freaking out and buzzing from the bedside table. I woke up and it hollered "LOW - 62 mg/dl." My meter confirmed me at 58 mg/dl. Uncapped the juice, drank my 8 sips, and fell back asleep. Woke up at 122 mg/dl on the Dex, 111 mg/dl on the meter. Solid.
Dexcom Pisses Me Off: It's not all dreamy and fabulous, believe me. This sensor is pretty damn big and it constantly catches on the waistband of my pants. Next time I Dexcom, I'm putting the sensor on my thigh. And to be perfectly honest, it's not very sexy. Sporting an infusion set for the pump and a sensor on my abdomen doesn't make me feel pretty. Of course blood sugar control is sexy because being healthy is sexy, but I'm not sure how I feel about deciding to wear this more than for a trial. I wish these things were smaller and less intrusive. I also DESPISE the shower patches, as they adhere to my skin like they were fused on at birth and ripping them off makes me curse (once again) like Yosemite Sam.
It's all about whether or not the benefits of wearing this gizmo outweigh the cons. Oh, and since this Dexcom was a "free gift" from the Diabetes Fairy, I haven't had to mangle with insurance companies or coverage factors yet. Do you need a script to order new sensors from Dexcom? I'm in the dark on the insurance angle.
And Chris comes home from CA early-early Sunday morning. Hooray!
June 28, 2007
Dexcom Warrior: Day Two.
I climb into bed, pump clipped to my shorts on one side and the Dexcom receiver resting on top of Chris's pillow. The air conditioner whirring and sleep coming at me fast, I reach over and check quickly with my meter. 92 mg/dl. Dexcom tells me I'm 132 mg/dl and indicates that I'm holding steady, so I close my eyes and fall asleep.
2:30 am: The sound is so shrill it cuts through the silence and reaches directly into my ears. I jump from the bed with a start and reach over for the Dexcom... which is making the noise. From down the hall.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Siah looks at me, her tail puffed up and her eyes wide with surprise. The Dexcom she has dragged out of bed and down the hallway has started buzzing and shrilling and she's not quite sure what to do.
"Siah! You little pain in the ..." I reach down and grab the receiver, smashing my sleepy hands against the buttons to stop the noise. It eventually quiets after I hit "ok." I check the display - 98 mg/dl. Not high, not low. What caused that shrilling sound?
I bring the receiver back to bed and place it on the pillow. Siah follows, tail slightly puffy but purring in apology. She climbs up on the bed and settles gently next to the receiver.
"Sausage, don't touch it. Seriously."
Purring.
"Siah, so help me ... leave that thing along. It's not your toy. It's my toy."
She licks the edge of the receiver case and tucks her nose into her paws.
Aside from the cat issues, the Dexcom-induced OCD has passed a bit. I'm not clicking the buttons every five seconds to see where I'm at. I am, however, noticing that my mornings are chaotic. Between 8 am and 11 am, my stress levels mirror my blood sugars - pinging all over the place and rapidly, at that. I'll go from 90 to 190 in the blink of an eye. This convinces me further that my diabetes and my emotions are linked at their very cores.
Also, this little experiment is good for my ego, in that it makes me feel good to see all these little graph numbers plotting in their assigned ranges. This morning has been excellent. I wonder what is causing that - paying attention more? The "reward" of seeing a nice line on the graph instead of enormous peaks and valleys? The techo-joy of a new diabetes toy?
Either way, Day Two will also include my first gym workout with Dexcom. I'm so curious to see what happens to my numbers while I'm working out. I also wonder if this sensor will be irritating while I workout.
Either way, Siah is banished to the living room tonight.
June 27, 2007
Dexcom Warrior.
I have to be completely honest here: The Dexcom scared the hell out of me.
It sat on the kitchen table for a few days and stayed hidden in the FedEx box. I wasn't quite ready to look at it and I was even less ready to saddle myself with another medical device. But a couple of Officially Scary low blood sugars, coupled with my fiance being away on business, and I was ready to give it a go.
Siah and I spent a few hours reading over the material that came with the Dexcom. She flipped through a few pages and finally trotted off with one of the shower covers, leaving me in peace to peruse the papers.
8:00 pm: There are a lot of pieces to work with here. The sensor, the inserter for the sensor, and the receiver. I'm intimidated at the idea of wearing another device, even for just a few days. I don't want it to be cumbersome. Oh man, I'm nervous.
What? The insertion needle is how long? Half an inch? Is that long? That's 1.3 cm. That's more than double the length of my infusion set. Damnit, I just need to put this thing in and be done with it.
9:30 pm: Here's the insertion device for the STS Sensor. (That's Prussia the Cat asleep in the chair in the background. This is her blog cameo.)
After reading over and over in the instruction booklet how to put it in, I pressed the insertion device against my stomach and gently - oh so gently - pressed down on the plunger apparatus. I felt the needle prick against my skin. It felt like an infusion set. My panic eased back a bit as I deployed the plunger and fully inserted the sensor needle.
9:35 pm: Inserted. Now I wait two hours for the damn thing to calibrate.
11:35 pm: The receiver clipped to my shorts buzzes like it is alerting me that the house is on fire. "Whoa there, Dexcom." I mutter, unclipping the device and setting it on the desk in front of me. Two little blood drops are dancing on the screen. Following the instructions in the manual, I test my blood sugar twice on a One Touch Ultra machine and link up the One Touch to the STS Receiver. The results travel across time, space, and the span of my desk and lodge themselves into the receiver.
11:50 pm: As promised, 15 minutes passes and my results pop up on the screen. "96 mg/dl." Nice way to start. Let's see if it lasts.
Here's what the site looks like "on." (Pump on the left, Dexcom on the right, like I'm a six-until-me shooter from some weird diabetes Western. And apparently I need to Windex the full-length mirror.)
It feels slightly more intrusive than an insulin pump infusion site, but it's not too troublesome. I'm wondering if it can be worn on the thigh. The biggest drawback so far (even after only three hours) is definitely the size of the receiver. This thing is clunky and cumbersome. I'm hoping that the data will outweigh the device.
Tomorrow brings my first full Dexcom Day. I'm all a-twitter!
June 26, 2007
Crumbs Morrone and the Evil VW
Last night when I left work, my tire looked a little mushy.
"Oh come on, Tire." Terrible habit, calling the different parts of this ridiculous car by name, but it gives my mind something to do other than hurl insults into the air and see where they land.
"You aren't quite flat, but you look like crap."
The tire shot me a tired look. "You drive too fast. And I don't like your hair today."
"Whatever." I went around to the trunk and grabbed the emergency kit, which includes flares, jumper cables, a pressure gauge, and this incredibly cool pump that you plug into the cigarette lighter and it can refill your tire. (Thank you, Dad, for buying me boring and practical gifts. You were right.)
The tire yawned at me as I filled it up. Once it was tight with air, I climbed in the car and drove home. Went inside, changed for the gym. Looked out the window at my car by chance and saw that the tire was flat. Again.
I swear it winked at me from the driveway.
After changing the tire over to the full-size spare (good ol' cruddy VW does offer a full-size spare, I'll give them that), I went to the gym to workout. Came home, did some stuff, coaxed Siah off of the bookcase where she was hoarding a stash of gym socks, changed my insulin pump site, and went to bed.
The alarm went off this morning early, giving me plenty of time to shower, get dressed, make lunch, look out the window, notice that now the spare tire was flat, let loose with a stream of curse words not unlike Yosemite Sam, and eat a plum.
The Car Gods are aligned against me today. I pumped the spare back full of air, drove my six minutes to work, and made an appointment at Town Fair Tire. (Name brands at discount prices! Now try and get that theme song out of your head.)
I'm admittedly Crumbs Morrone about this, and the only thing that is bringing a smile is a memory of Pee Wee's Playhouse (brought to me by Lester22). Oh this blasted car.
Today's secret word is: Tire! Ahhhh!
June 25, 2007
Weekend Update.
Over the weekend in Rhode Island, NurseBestFriend and I spent a little time on the beach, relaxing in the sun and watching families play along the shore and the old guy with leathered skin behind us swirl his belly hair into a cyclone. 
"What is that guy doing?" NBF whispered over her shoulder as the man behind us sang along to his iPod.
"It's like his stomach is a cotton candy machine. Oh my goodness, is he singing Celine Dion?"
We talked about our jobs, the wedding next year, and our plans to take Batman out for her birthday that night. After assessing our sun-burned skin, we headed up Route 4 and grabbed the Batman.
Dinner in Providence.
A drink or two. (Okay, maybe a few drinks.)
And some dancing.
Blood sugars were a little on the higher side (running from around 180 mg/dl and crested up as high as 265 mg/dl) but it was nice to relax with friends and have a good time. Focusing on work, developing side-projects, and keeping my eye on the career ball is good, but sometimes you need to just let loose and have a damn good time.
And before bed last night I was 129 g/dl. This morning, 127 mg/dl. Good recovery. Back on track for the work week.
June 22, 2007
Another Friday Six
1. It's Friday, my fine Faithful Readers. And if you are plodding through the last work day of the week and you just so happened to be diagnosed with type 1 diabetes after the age of 18, sounds like a survey is a good way to kill some time! (Whoa, long lead there.) If you were diagnosed with Type 1 after you turned 18, take this survey over at Diabetes Daily.
2. The deposit was mailed out for our wedding reception site. It's now official: Chris and I will be married on May 18, 2008. I am so excited! And I just can't hide it!
3. The ADA's 67th Scientific Sessions are taking place in Chicago starting this morning. Already the internet is buzzing with new diabetes developments. Medtronic unveiled a new physician component to their diabetes-mangement software, CareLink. The component would allow "healthcare professionals to quickly and easily analyze their patients' critical diabetes management data, and identify cause and effect relationships in therapy that may enhance office visits and optimize treatment decisions," according to the press release. Anything to make the most of our endocrinologist appointments, right?
Also, there's been an announcement about a non-invasive screening method from VeraLight, Inc. The device is called "Scout DS" and it looks a lot like the plastic manicure sets that would come with your Barbie doll. According to the press release, "using light directed onto a small area of an individual's forearm the device is able to detect abnormal concentrations of advanced glycation endproducts (AGEs), which correlate well with diabetes and pre-diabetes and are associated with the disease's serious complications." No blood drawn? Cool stuff! Let's see if it makes it to approval in the U.S.
4. I woke up this morning with Sausage s-t-a-r-i-n-g at me in a highly creepy way, not unlike the little girls from The Shining. It's not normal to wake up to insistent purring and whiskers in my face. Does anyone want a small, gray cat? I'll ship her out, free of charge.
5. With Harry Potter behind me (until July 21st!) and plenty of time to myself lately, I have been plowing through books like a schoolkid cramming all their summer reading in on August 30th. I just finished Little Pink Slips by Sally Koslow and am now knee-deep in Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris. I recommend the first one as a book to tide you over at the beach and the second as one to make you hate the fact that most of America works in a Cubicle Farm.
6. Some terrific new Your Story entries being posted - make sure you catch up on the latest. And if you want to submit your own Story, send it in by email!
Off to RI for the weekend for some relaxation on the beach. Have a good weekend, guys!
Note: Apparently comments were flaked out for a few hours. Sorry about the problem! I think it's fixed now ... if you notice any issues, send me an email! :)
June 21, 2007
Fudgy the Whale
Back a few years ago, when I was working in an arbitration firm, I developed an obsession with Fudgy the Whale. (Yes, we're back at Tom Carvel again.) The job I worked was thankless, forcing my then 23 year old self to receive payment for only 35 hours when I was plugging through more than 40. Deadlines were strict, the matters were enormously legal, and my days were spent consulting with high-power attorneys and former FBI heads. Files piled up. Stress levels were elevated.
It was at this job that I decided to start insulin pumping. I had been struggling to lower my A1c for some time and my morning dawn phenomenon symptoms were becoming a daily nuisance. Couple those factors with the low blood sugars I was being tagged with and I was a grumpy little diabetic.
I started making the phone calls to my doctor in November, telling her that I was ready to transition to pump therapy. After a few training classes at Joslin, some in-depth discussions with my then-partner, and way too many phone calls with the soul-sucking ghouls at my medical insurance company, I was finally suited up with my Minimed 512 and ready to roll.
After I started pumping, I was so tempted to start experimenting with the insulin-to-carb ratios. Specifically the ones that would allow for, say, some ice cream cake?
"You guys remember Fudgy the Whale, right?" I asked my co-workers over lunch one day. They did. But I wouldn't let it go.
"Man, those ice cream cakes were delicious. We should totally get one for the office."
"Right. We should!"
But we didn't. And the pump clipped to my hip kept whispering to me as I filed my arbitration awards.
"Pssst. Kerri. Listen, you can totally do an ice cream cake. Just use your 1:10 ratio and read the carb count on the side of the box."
I tried to whisper back without moving my lips. Didn't want anyone at work to think I was nuts.
"I know. I'm working on it."
After a few days, my frenzied discussions about Tom Carvel and his fabulous cakes tapered off a bit, thanks to a workload that was holding me by the throat.
One afternoon - "Hey guys, we have a meeting in ten. Conference room." My bosses voice rang out over the cubicle farm and we all popped up like overworked whack-a-moles.
I finished up the file I was working on and grabbed my notebook for the meeting. The conference room was right near my desk, so I strolled on over, opened the door, and saw:
Fudgie.
And on his belly, it said, "Fudgy Loves Kerri."
"Oh! Fudgy the Whale! He's here!" I couldn't help myself. I regressed immediately, grinning like a six year old at the idea of ice cream cake with tasty crunchies.
"We were going to write 'You Must Shoot Up Now,' but figured that may be offensive. But you can shoot up now. Use your pump thing. And we'll have cake!"
And we had cake. As a team, we devoured every last morsel of Mr. F.T. Whale. I used my new insulin pump to cover bases and enjoyed both a piece of Whale and a stable blood sugar an hour and half afterwards.
Even a crappy job can be momentarily saved by Tom Carvel.
( And a HUGE Happy Birthday to my friend Batman! )
June 20, 2007
Time for Meme.
Oh memes. Where would I be without your inspiration? Stolen unabashedly from Nicole.
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Kerri
2. Six
3. Zippy
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Eye color, the same as my Nana and my Grammie.
2. My torn up, bitten to the quick, busy little hands.
3. My grin.
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My anxiety. (It feels physical sometimes.)
2. My height (oh, how I wish to be taller!)
3. The little dots that infusion sets leave behind on my thigh.
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. Irish
2. Italian
3. German (But not the crummy, VW German. VWs suck.)
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Being alone.
2. Offending people.
3. Complications from diabetes.
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Insulin (I'll take it however I can get it.)
2. Extra wintermint chewing gum.
3. That little book I carry everywhere to jot down notes about random bits and pieces.
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. A v-neck Ann Taylor top.
2. My engagement ring. :)
3. Lip gloss.
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE MUSICALS:
1. I Don't Like Musicals.
2. Maybe Spamalot.
3. Okay, Spamalot.
THREE OF YOUR [current] FAVOURITE SONGS:
1. Grace Under Pressure- Elbow
2. Song for Someone - The Frames
3. How to Disappear Completely - Radiohead
THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. Love.
2. Comfortable conversation about anything.
3. Laughter.
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS THAT YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE:
1. Shiny new toasters.
2. Flowers in bloom on my back deck.
3. Clean sheets.
(You didn't specify, so this is what you get.)
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE HOBBIES:
1. Blogging.
2. Writing.
3. Shopping. Oh man, do I love to shop.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Hug my fiance.
2. Jump into the ocean and feel the sand on my feet.
3. Take a nap. Damn insomnia.
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Media maven.
2. Writer of a professional-ish nature.
3. Kitten cuddler.
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. Ireland.
2. Italy.
3. Some quiet little tropical place where I can lay out on a blanket on the beach, drink fabulous frothy drinks with paper umbrellas, and soak up the sun. (Very unhealthy, I agree. But it's vacation, so I can do as I please.)
THREE KIDS NAMES YOU LIKE:
1. Aidan Christopher.
2. Emma.
3. Martin. (Yes, mom. Like the cat.)
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Publish the book.
2. Oh, maybe I should start with "Write the last third of the book."
3. Have a family.
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A CHICK:
1. I cry. Easily. And with tears that could fill a swimming pool. Or at least a thimble, at a rapid rate.
2. I believe strongly in the power of clothes shopping.
3. I live to love.
Adding a 4th - I hate when people refer to women as "chicks." Even this question pissed me off.
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:
1. Fart jokes are funny. All the time. Without fail.
2. I have no problem being confrontational.
3. Did I mention fart jokes? Classless, yet special.
THREE CELEB CRUSHES:
1. Chris Sparling (star of An Uzi at the Alamo, don'tcha know?)
2. Bono
3. Tom Carvel
Everyone is tagged. Memes for all!
June 19, 2007
Belly Up.
Last night: In a bit of a fit, I decided to use my abdomen for my infusion set. Pressing the Quick-Serter against my stomach for the first time in over two years, I had that fleeting thought of "Oh what if this stings???" but it deployed smoothly. Sitting at my desk and returning some emails, the site on my stomach didn't bother me much. Resting about three inches to the right of my naval, I didn't notice any issue due to my low-rise pajama bottoms.
Went to bed just past midnight, after texting Chris good-night and knowing he would call once he was back in his hotel room in San Francisco, I fell asleep with Abby to the right of me and Siah prowling around after the cap of the hairspray bottle on the floor.
The phone rings at 2:30 in the morning, 11:30 California time.
I reach over and answer, my head damp and the waves of nausea coming over me violently.
"Hello?"
"Hey baby, it's me. How's my girl?"
How's his girl? She's fumbling with the test strip, convinced she needs to test and confirm this low blood sugar instead of crawling to the kitchen for juice. She's pricking her finger by the lamplight. She's afraid to say anything yet because she knows this one is bad and she doesn't want to make him nervous.
30 mg/dl.
"I'm low. I'm 30. I'm low." The words are a steady stream of consciousness, falling off my lips and traveling 3,000 miles across the country to my fiance's ears.
"Juice. Now, okay? You need to drink it now." I can hear him trying to be calm, but it's hard when he's not next to me and able to run for the juice himself.
"Okay." I walk out to the kitchen, Abby following me and wailing. I open a sports bottle of juice and drain it. I open a second one and drain that one, too, my phone against my ear and my back against the cold edge of the fridge.
"I drank it. I'm going to come up soon."
Most of the time when I'm low, I know it's going to be okay. I know that I'll regain my control and then I'll smile sheepishly. But this time, I'm scared. I'm alone, I'm scared, and these tides of weakness and release are washing over me, making me frightened that if I close my eyes, I won't open them again.
"It's okay, Kerri. It's okay. We're going to wait and you'll be okay. I'm here."
The tears escape without my permission.
"But I'm scared. I feel close. I'm scared.."
I sit quietly and wait for the juice to push back the tide. And it does.
"I miss you."
"There's my girl. You sound better already. You're coming up, right? Why don't you test?"
62 mg/dl. Just seeing the number brings me relief.
"Sixty-two. I'm on the climb. It's okay. I'm sorry."
"What happened?"
"I don't know. I put the site on my stomach for the first time in a few years and maybe it absorbed more quickly than my thigh. I don't know."
And we stay on the phone for another thirty minutes, his voice coaxing my blood sugar back into range.
I have a DexCom (thank you, endlessly, Diabetes Fairy) sitting on my dining room table. I think it's time to give it a go.
June 18, 2007
Regression.
The phone rang at 4:30 in the morning. One shrill ring cut through the unfamiliar darkness of my mother's house. I reached over to grab the receiver but it stopped ringing. My head, warm from sleep and damp with sweat, pounded in the silence.
I switched on the lamp by the bed and unzipped the black case that hides my meter. I closed my eyes as the screen counted down, not wanting to see the numbers just yet. I wanted to go back to sleep.
42 mg/dl.
My arms like overcooked spaghetti, I spilled from the guestbed in my mother's house and shuffled into her kitchen, my hands tracing the walls to keep me centered. I switched on the kitchen light and rescued a bottle of juice from her fridge. Poured a glass of dark purple grape juice, tipped it back into my throat. Counting back eight sips, a small bit dribbled out onto my blue t-shirt and left a splotchy reminder.
Back in the bed, I lay on top of the covers and concentrated on the face of a small ceramic doll in the corner of the guest room, locking eyes with it and willing the room to stop tossing like a ship.
My mother poked her head in. "Are you okay? Was that Chris? Did he arrive safely?"
"I'm okay. I'm just low."
"Oh." She pushes the door open and steps inside. "Did you have some
juice?"
"I did. I'm okay. I'll come up in a few minutes. Don't worry."
"I feel weird going back to sleep now."
I haven't lived with either of my parents since I was 20 years old. I share an apartment with my fiance and a few cats, maintaining some semblance of adult life and living independently. Yet a low blood sugar under my mother's roof sends me back to when I was nine years old.
"It's okay, Mom. I promise."
She nods her head and I hear her go back into her bedroom. She leaves her door open just enough.
As I wait for my blood sugar to rise, I understand that despite a career and a wedding and fierce independence, I understand that no matter how grown-up my life may feel, I am still her daughter.
Her worries don't taper with age.
June 15, 2007
Six Things on a Friday.
1. It's official: I'm being stalked by Madonna's "Lucky Star." Chris taunted me last weekend by waking me up with a falsetto, early-morning "You must be my lucky star!" This was accompanied by several dance moves and some grins. And ever since, I've heard this song as the first radio song my alarm blasts out, playing as I shopped at CVS, trilling to me on my commute home, and lastly, some girl was humming it as she worked out at the gym last night. This tune is chasing me, and it is relentless.
2. After much thought about whether or not to disconnect the pump for my rafting trip, I've decided to disconnect. I won't be able to enjoy myself if I'm constantly paranoid about losing the damn thing. So, in choosing between Lantus and NPH, I'm hearing lots of votes for NPH because it will be out of my system in a more predictable 8 - -10 hours vs. the 24 hour basal rate of Lantus. Am I right on that? I'm calling for scripts from my doctor on Monday and I need my Blogosphere Medical Team to help me make the right decision. Sure, doctors have all those initials after their name, but if 
they're not actually doing this, I'm not actually believing everything they say.
3. Thanks to F.R. Kristen, I've been shown the virtual way to Someecards. I have sent them to dozens of people. They are tacky, classless, and their humor is so dry it's dying of dehydration. I love them. Go look. I can't stop.
4. Tu Diabetes. I know you've joined. I've joined. I don't even have to mention it, do I?
5. Admittedly, in hot anticipation of the July 21st final Harry Potter book on the horizon, I've recently plowed through the last book. Preparing. I felt like such a ten year old kid on Thursday night, holed up in my bed with the lamp on and reading The Half-Blood Prince. But now I'm done. And it's such a long, long time until July 21st. Am I the only blogger who has been sucked into the Harry Potter vortex?
6. And HUGE congratulations to Kelsey! And to Art-Sweet and Pili. And Flmgodog. And belated congrats to Lyrecha. (And to anyone I may have missed.) There are so many new additions (and coming attractions) to the d-Blogosphere that it's making my head spin.
Have a good weekend! I'm off to RI.
Tags: diabetes, insulin pumping, babies, blogosphere,Madonna.June 14, 2007
28 Zombies Later...
Strange, what ends up in your dreams.
To set the stage: First, we had gone to see (edit: Not Danny Boyle's. Juan Carlos Fresnadillo's. Boyle did the first one. Chris nagged me until I made this edit.) 28 Weeks Later. (It terrified me and I watched the majority of it through Chris's sleeve. But I do respect Danny Boyle's affinity for Muse.) Second, we've been spending a lot of time apart due to Chris's project, so there's been that undercurrent of hypoglycemia fear. And thirdly, the cats have been very annoying.
Yesterday morning, Chris admitted to having had a nightmare.
"I had the weirdest dream. It was so real."
"Really? What happened?"
"It was like 28 Weeks Later. We were in my old house and the zombies were there. They were tearing through the house and you were low. There was no food. I was only able to find like a quarter of a cup of juice. Barely any juice at all."
"I was low in your dream? That's odd."
"Yeah. You drank the juice but it didn't do much. In my dream, I found half of an English muffin and I had it in my hand, but you know how dreams are, and all of a sudden I couldn't find the English muffin."
"What? It had disappeared?"
"It had. So we ran upstairs and we were hiding in my sister's old room and you were completely out of it. Walking around, mumbling to yourself. I was holding the door shut and the zombies were pounding on the other side. There was a big, white bureau in there that I kept asking you to push in front of the door, but you were barely coherent, you were so low."
"That's scary. Then what happened?"
"This is where it gets awful! I have my feet braced against the floor and my back against the 
door. There are zombies pushing to get in. You're completely low and just about passed out. And then the stupid cats start climbing all over me! Prussia came up and sat on my lap, Siah was purring in my face ... it was ridiculous!"
I couldn't help it. I started laughing.
"I know!" Chris looked exasperated. As he was talking, Siah was winding herself through his ankles.
"Zombies. Lows. The stupid cats. And a missing English muffin." I said.
I think we need another vacation. Diabetes and zombies? Our lives are becoming tangled in our dreams and there isn't even a decent soundtrack.
Tags: diabetes, english muffin, Danny Boyle, Siah,dreams.June 13, 2007
Grocery Wars.
The wheels on the grocery cart clatter against the store's tile floor as my Internal Motivational Speaker and My Stomach wage war inside my head.
Internal Motivational Speaker: Oh Kerri, don't those organic cucumbers look delicious! You can slice them up and eat them as a snack in the morning. Grab two of those.
My hands extend out and grab two cucumbers.
Stomach: Seriously, dude, if you don't get me something to eat I am going to make 
that noise you hate. You know the one.
Internal Motivational Speaker: And raspberries! They are filled with flavonoids. Get those, too.
The raspberries make their way into my cart. I shuffle through the grocery store on autopilot.
Internal Motivational Speaker: Yes, yes. Baby spinach. Some sliced turkey and cheese for sandwiches for lunch. Good idea. Baby carrots ...
Stomach: Baby spinach, baby carrots. You eat babies. Heh heh. FEED ME. I'm running out of patience.
I turn right and make my way down the granola bar and cereal aisle.
Internal Motivational Speaker: You liked those organic granola bars we bought last week. Grab another box of those. Keep walking past that cereal, too high in carbs for you. You know if makes you spike. How about some banana bread oatmeal? That worked out nicely.
The area just below my belly button lets loose with a low growl, like I'm hiding a ravenous bear underneath my workout shirt.
Stomach: See? Told you. You can't go to the gym and then come straight here without feeding me. I've let the bear loose now. That guy over there just looked at you because it sounds like you are about to throw up. Ha ha ha. Because you eat babies.
Internal Motivational Speaker: Stomach, stop being so crude! We'll be home soon. Just be patient.
Stomach: I am being patient. You don't know what I've been through, lady. She did abs tonight. Do you know what that means? She spent way too much time crunching and now I'm all tense. Hey Kerri, grab those frosted mini-wheats. I've earned them.
Internal Motivational Speaker: No no! Frosting on the outside means high blood sugars on the inside, you silly prat!
Stomach: They say whole-grain. Do you see that, Kerri? Whole-grain. Grab 'em.
Whispering "Whole-grains are in these," to myself, I add the mini-wheats to my cart.
Internal Motivational Speaker: I can't believe this! You just went to the gym and now you're adding "frosted mini-wheats" to the cart? I mean really, Kerri, you need to get your priorities straight. Now come on and put them back.
Stomach: Kerri, you have your priorities in fine order. You are eating well and exercising and torturing the hell out of me. Add those mini-wheats to your rabbit food carriage and let's get on with this. I need a snack.
The bear growls again.
Stomach: Rocco's getting upset. Better move on.
I move the mini-wheats underneath the bags of fresh vegetables. My Internal Motivational Speaker sighs deeply.
Internal Motivational Speaker: I can still see them, you know.
Stomach: Oh would you just shut up?
Internal Motivational Speaker: I will not. And another thing ...
I hear the sound of a heavy chain snapping and the ravenous roar of a hungry bear.
Stomach: Sick 'em, Rocco!
Internal Motivational Speaker: Noooo!! Oh God, I can feel his breath on my motivational neck! Help!
Her voice trails off. And the mini-wheats stay in the cart.
Tags: diabetes, cereal, grocery shopping, RoccoJune 12, 2007
Can My Pump Swim?
It's game on for white-water rafting in July. Chris's sister made the reservations and we're off and running for the weekend of July 7th.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I'm ready to do this, but navigating insulin needs may prove trickier than making my way down the rapids. As one of the most ungraceful people on the planet, it's certain that I will either be tossed out of the boat or I will simply fall out, rendering my pump useless if it ends up waterlogged. You guys mentioned the AquaPac and things of that nature, but knowing my luck, the pump will somehow become disconnected and lost.
Pumps aren't cheap.
So I'm disconnecting for the trip.
I've given some thought to grabbing a script for Lantus and bolusing throughout the day with a Humalog pen. This way, I'm covered on the basal front and I can selectively bolus for meals and any corrections throughout the day.
My brain is covered with questions, though.
How much Lantus do I need to take? I've been pumping for over three years now and I barely remember what my insulin needs were B.P (Before Pump). And should I start this "pumpless" regimen a day or two before the trip so I can have things almost figured out before we hit the river? Also, what about morning highs? I had some serious dawn phenomenon business going on B.P., and I have a morning basal setting that's almost double what I take for the rest of the day. Should I just suck it up and run a little higher for those three or four days?
I have a call in to Joslin and I'm waiting for their two cents. But I know you guys have the other $0.98. :0) Any thoughts on this? I appreciate any and all feedback!!
Tags: diabetes, white-water rafting, insulin pumping, Joslin,type 1June 11, 2007
An Open Letter to Shoes, The Girl Who Lives Above Me.
Dear Shoes,
I'll come right out and say it: I'm concerned. I'm not sure if you have incredibly swollen feet trapped in shoes made of lead, or if perhaps you are stricken with a disease that leaves you clomping around like a yeti, but either way I want to reach through the ceiling and punch you in the face.
I've lived below you for almost a year now, and at first I didn't know of you at all. You were just another tenant in this condo building with an assigned parking spot and a cute table and chair set out on the deck.
Oh Shoes, at first I thought it was a thunder storm, rolling and swirling in a spot strategically located above my kitchen counter. Then I realized it was you and your fleet of horses (maybe it's just one black lab) running back and forth across the length of your apartment floor (read: my ceiling) at midnight.
I'm not the old lady who goes to bed at 9 o'clock at night, but I don't regularly stay up until 3 o'clock in the morning, that is unless I'm lying in bed and listening to you go out on your deck and yell things to your boyfriend in the yard. I hope he eventually admitted that he was "an asshole, do you know that?!" and that you let him come inside instead of making him "sleep underneath the mailbox" where he was welcomed to "die a lonely death."
Oh my friend Shoes, I am a night owl. I'll admit to being up and writing until the late hours of the night, lit by the light of my laptop and brimming with ideas. I'll also admit that it's tough to write when you're clomping around like Sloth.
Occasionally, you bring me a small moment of comfort, like last night when I woke up at 4 am with a blood sugar of 52 mg/dl. As I slid the straw into the juicebox I kept on the bedside table, I knew I wasn't alone because I could hear you fighting with your boyfriend (who apparently wasn't sleeping underneath the mailboxes). Thanks for being there for me, Shoes.
For the most part, my neighbor friend, you do not cause me much grief. Oh, I've seen your weird Gwen Stefani styled pony tail, where it looks all-too-similar to a mohawk, but I have faith that you'll outgrow your style stumblings. But there are occasions where I can't help but wish you did not exist.
I have sincere hopes that a cure will be found for your heavy-footed affliction, which causes you to stomp around All. Night. Long. If there is a walk I can contribute to or a pasta-and-meatball dinner I can attend to raise awareness for your condition, please don't hesitate to ask me.
Otherwise, I'll wait patiently for your lease to run up.
Sincerely,
Kerri.
Tags: open letters, annoying neighbors, shoesJune 08, 2007
The Ear of Medtronic
Wondering how to slide your perspectives into the ear of Medtronic (makers of Minimed pumps)? Wil over at Life After DX has Medtronic design fellas waiting for the perspectives of the blogosphere on the next design for the Minimed Paradigm 2.
Weigh in with your thoughts! Make your voice heard!
And have a good weekend!
99 Problems But a Meme Ain't One.
1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought? "Ooh, Kerri. Nice hair. You need to go straight back to bed."
2. How much cash do you have on you? $2.50. Just enough to go downstairs and grab an iced coffee.
3. What's a word that rhymes with DOOR? Implore.
4. Favorite planet? My wedding - I need to planet. (Ha!)
5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone? Maid of Honor
6. What is your favorite ring tone on your phone? The Law & Order theme. Brings me great joy.
7. What shirt are you wearing? Blue polo shirt, nice and comfortable and cozy enough to make the drive home to RI without ending up all rumpled.
8. Do you label yourself? I haven't given that much thought. I guess I do, mostly out of convenience/laziness.
9. Name the brand of the shoes you're currently wearing: Ann Taylor.
10. Bright or Dark Room? Is this a preference or where I am now? I'm currently in a bright room with three skylights above my head.
11. Why is there always a missing question? Because some people can't count. Like me.
12. What does your watch look like? Silver link band, rectangular face, small silver numbers, and silver hands that haven't moved because the battery died and it just dawned on me now. This watch has just been downgraded to "bracelet."
13. What were you doing at midnight last night? Rebuilding my About Me page because it flaked out. And then I hugged Chris.
14. What did your last text message you received on your cell phone say? "I love it!" from Batman, about her new, impromptu nose ring.
15. Where is your nearest 7-11? I have no idea. And I can't bring myself to care. But there is a Tim Horton's coffee shop about four miles down the road. Yay!
16. What's a word that you say a lot? I can't narrow it down, but I do laugh too much. I've been called out on it at work several times.
17. Who told you he/she loved you last? My handsome fiance.
18. Last furry thing you touched? Abby, who was asleep in my purse and I had to scoot her out of the way so I could leave for work.
19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days? Three - insulin, blood pressure meds, and birth control. Too much information? Potentially.
20. How many rolls of film do you need developed? About 3,432. There's a whole cache of undeveloped film at my father's house that I need to rescue and develop. I know there are at least three summers at CBC that are unaccounted for, as well as my brother's college graduation party.
21. Favorite age you have been so far? They've all been fun. I'm pretty content where I'm at today.
22. Your worst enemy? Volkswagon.
23. What is your current desktop picture? My niece and nephew.
24. What was the last thing you said to someone? "I thought you slept that off."
25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly, what would it be? I'm scared to get in a plane - why the hell would I want to fly all on my own? Sounds dangerous. Check, please.
26. Do you like someone? I like almost everyone. And I'm loyal to the bitter end.
27. The last song you listened to? "Rifles" by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.
28. What time of day were you born? Early in the morning on a snowy Thursday in February.
29. What's your favorite number? Eleven.
30. Where did you live in 1987? At my parent's house in Westerly, gearing up for third grade.
31. Are you jealous of anyone? As little as possible. No time to waste on jealousy.
32. Is anyone jealous of you? I couldn't care less.
33. Where were you when 9/11 happened? On the Pell Bridge in Newport, heading to my first job after college. I was terrified.
34. What do you do when vending machines steal your money? Have a stern but direct conversation with it, explaining my reasons for being upset and trying to coax my change back out of its belly. And when it refuses to comply, I kick it in the shins.
35. Do you consider yourself kind? Yes. I don't like cruel people.
36. If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be? I like other people's tattoos, but I don't want one on myself. Ever.
37. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be? Gaelic.
38. Would you move for the person you loved? Yes.
39. Are you touchy-feely? Physically, I love being held by someone I love. Emotionally, I'm the most sensitive person you'll ever meet and I'm always thinking of the feelings involved.
40. What's your life motto? I don't believe in mottos. I do, however, like a good tagline now and again.
41. Name three things you have on you at all times: My engagement ring, my pump, and my smile.
42. What's your favorite town/city? I love Boston. And Watch Hill, RI.
43. What was the last thing you paid for with cash? "Iced coffee," says Kerri, her hands shaking from caffiene withdrawal.
44. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it? When the people at Logimedix Medical Supply pissed me off. I wrote them a complaint letter, telling them where precisely to put what.
45. Can you change the oil on a car? Proudly, but not neatly.
46. Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her? That he's living in RI. And he looks almost exactly the same.
47. How far back do you know your ancestry? I am not quite sure. But I would love to dig around in my family history.
48. The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy? I wore a black and white dress for a fancy dinner in South Norwalk with my fiance. There was no real reason, but it was fun to dress up and go out on a date.
49. Does anything hurt on your body right now? Yes, my knee because I fell coming up the stairs at work today due to the fact that I'm terribly awkward.
50. Have you ever been burned by love? Yes. But I healed.
51. Do you have a crush on any bloggers? Does Larry Bird have a blog?
52. Where would you like to live? Anywhere. Everywhere. Bring it on.
June 07, 2007
Lisa Roney, and then Some Sausage.
Three items in this post, two of which are very important. (One is purely silliness.)
ONE: My friend Lisa Roney, author of "Sweet Invisible Body" is the guest of honor tonight over at Diabetes Talkfest. Log in to chat with her at 9 pm EST. 
This is definitely a chat to be at!
TWO: Be sure to check out the posts over at Your Story! If you'd like to submit your own story, send an email to story @ sixuntilme dot com. And if you'd like to post a banner in your sidebar that links to Your Story, click here for the html.
AND THREE: (this is the silly one.) I'm sorry to be posting another YouTube clip (they make the blog look messy, in my opinion), but I was duped. Sausage has been trotting around with a little notebook I received (from Ms. ChronicBabe herself, actually!) and bringing it everywhere with her. I wanted to grab her escapades on video, but she wouldn't perform for me. I sat on the floor for a few minutes, hopeful that Siah would do her thing, but she just sat staring at me. I left the camera on the floor. And the little rat bastard pulled a fast one. (Guest appearance by Abby the Cat. She also has a speaking role.)
Ah. Cat blogging. Completely ridiculous. (And the video is a little on the dark side. Working on fixing that now.)
June 06, 2007
Snacks.
Diagnosed as a kid, I don't remember ever having the option to snack recklessly. My mother and father, determined to keep me as healthy as possible, packed me school snacks that would bring great joy to ... an 80 year old woman maybe. However, I was eight years old and toting around a lunch sack containing rice cakes and carrot sticks. (Yes, very healthy. Yes, also very boring when you're a kid.)
I have to admit: I finagled some lunch switcheroos when I was a kid. Those rice cakes that my 
mother had loving factored into my meal plan were chucked into the trash in favor of someone else's Ring Dings. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I'm assuming I'm not the only one who ditched the meal plan. I was a stupid kid, for crying out loud! And those snacks that were orchestrated to fit with my peaking NPH and Regular doses were tedious.
I've heard that taste buds change every seven years. Is this a bullshit claim? Does that explain why the snacks of yester-year are no longer repulsive to me and are instead coveted tasty bits?
Enter green beans.
Fresh green beans are my snack of choice all year long, all day long. I like their cool exterior and their vibrant green color. I like how they snap. And I like how they make me feel full and require almost no insulin to keep their effects on my blood sugars quiet.
If you asked me when I was a kid, "Hey Kerri, how about some nice, tasty green beans?" I would have mustered up the nastiest look possible. But now I buy them by the pound at the grocery store.
Other snacks I've found to be both diabetes-friendly and tasty (or at least not disgusting) are walnuts, almonds, cottage cheese, and sharon fruits. If I was presented with that list as a child, I would have been sick to my stomach. But thanks to my evolving taste buds, I find these things to be delicious and relatively easy on the D. What are you guys snacking on? I could use some further palette expansion.
But don't get me wrong - my remaining childish tastebuds scream for some black raspberry ice cream. Or a Snickers bar. ;)
Tags: diabetes, snacks, Type 1, Snickers barJune 05, 2007
Rediscovering Home.
We've been out here just about a year now. It's the first time I ever moved away from Rhode Island, so for my slightly sheltered self, it has created "home" into a word that has multiple locations and meanings. Is home the place where I grew up? The place from which I type these words now?
While Connecticut has been the place where Chris and I have taken our relationship to new levels, where careers have found roots, and where my car is parked outside, it's not completely home. It's not entirely familiar.
Home is in Rhode Island, where I rode my bike fast and furiously down the big hills, played in the woods with my brother and sister, and grew up in our family home by the beach. While I mutter on about how SmallTown my hometown is, with the people that never leave and the "if it's not here, you don't need it" mentality, I miss it.
Since Chris's project is keeping him in flux between Rhode Island and New York (with a sojourn to CA coming soon - I'll need many kind distractions those weeks...), we are spending most of our weekends in RI again. Lately, with the weather warming up and RI blooming into it's finest season, I feel like a tourist in my own state, rediscovering my home.
We ventured up to Federal Hill in Providence and had lunch at Cafe Dolce Vita. A nice antipasto, some ice water, and finishing off with a chocolate lava cake at Jessie's. (Granted, my fiance had the lava cake. I opted for a tamer version, indulging in some chocolate ice cream instead. And a cappucino. One and a half hours later - 124 mg/dl. Take that, blood sugars!)
Later in the weekend, we ended up in Newport, where we saw the beautiful early summer flowers...
... and, of course, the great blooming bear. (I have no idea what the deal is with this bear, but it was distracting. And there was a second one riding an electric scooter. Those Newporters are odd indeed.)
We capped off the weekend with a quick wine tasting at the Newport Vineyards. (Having eaten lightly all day long, this tasting went straight to my head and I rambled on to Chris the whole car ride home. Poor guy.)
It was strange, exploring our homestate as though it were new. There was something about seeing the towns through "different" eyes that made us appreciate our true RI home even more.
Maybe I'm a little homesick lately.
June 04, 2007
Starbucks Strikes Again.
Walking along Thames Street in Newport,