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What Does the DOC Mean to You?

Two weeks ago, the #dsma chat was centered on the how and why of people’s participation in the Diabetes Online Community (DOC), and after chat participants shared what brought them to the web for diabetes information, the last question of the night asked them what the DOC means to them.

The answers created a quilt of community and comfort that can’t be denied:

And for me?

Tune in to tonight’s #dsma chat at 9 pm EST. For information on how to get started with Twitter, jump back to this Diabetes and Twitter 101 post.

What Influences Blood Sugar? (Hint: Everything.)

“So the food you eat makes your blood sugar go high, right? And the insulin makes it go lower?”

I clearly remember asking this of my certified diabetes educator, way back in the day, as I was trying to make sense of the things that could influence my blood sugar.

It wasn’t until I was a little bit older, with access to different diabetes technologies, that I saw just how many things left their mark on my blood sugar.  This morning, with only emotional stress as an influencer, I watched my blood sugar take the straight road north on my Dexcom graph:

My emotions have their way with my blood sugars all the frigging time.  The math isn’t always repeatable.  Easy morning + healthy breakfast + in-range fasting blood sugar = in range post-breakfast blood sugar.  Stressful morning + diabetes – rational thoughts = rising blood sugar.

Getting the number after the equal sign to remain “in range” takes more work that I’m willing to admit at times.

All About that Cure.

Ever stumble upon an ear worm while you’re waiting in the airport?  For me, it’s usually something like “On the Wings of Love” that ends up embedded into my brain for hours on end (thank you, Mr. Osborne) but yesterday morning it was “All About that Bass.”  Except it was with a diabetes twist, thanks to a JDRF walk team in Tucson, AZ:

To support their team, visit their walk page.  In the meantime, jam out to their earworm.

 

“Do you wish you didn’t have diabetes?”

“Hang on two more seconds, kiddo.  I need to check my blood sugar before we go.”

She watches me casually as she slides her arm through the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“Mom, do you wish you didn’t have diabetes?”

She asks me this question all the time now.  While diabetes is not a secret in our house, it’s not a hot topic of conversation.  Instead, she sees what my pump looks like and knows what my Dexcom does, and she likes to push the button on my lancing device to deploy the needle when I need to check.  She knows that glucose tabs are for low blood sugars and that I apologize for being unreasonably grouchy when my blood sugar is frustratingly high.  A few times she’s seen me cry because I was low, but I try to explain to her that it feels bad in the moment but then I feel okay.  Most of this becomes threads in the fabric, but lately, she’s been asking me that one, specific question on repeat.

“Mom, do you wish you didn’t have diabetes?”

My answer is generally the same every time, because I don’t want to lie to her.  I am not filled with diabetes-loathing, and even though this disease is the single biggest negative issue I deal with every day, I don’t feel entirely devoured by it.  But I don’t fucking like this disease.  It’s a complicated half-way.  There are moments that are compromised, but my life as a whole is not.

“I don’t like having diabetes, but I’m fine.  I like having you.  And having Daddy.  And having Looper and Siah Sausage,” and then I deflect to something else because I don’t want to have long, drawn out discussions with my introspective daughter who has already queried me about how many birthdays people have left.

I think about how diabetes is something normal to her, and always has been.  Moms wear insulin pumps, and it furrowed her brow for years that my friends here at home don’t have a pump clipped to their hip.  Moms carry purses filled with crayons and hand wipes for kids, and then a jar of glucose tabs for when the car is hard to find in the parking lot.  Mom’s bike basket has a bottle of water and a Dexcom receiver in it.  Moms sometimes say, “Let me check my blood sugar first,” before going outside to play.  This is her normal, too.

“Mom, are you glad I don’t have diabetes?”

“I am glad you are exactly who you are.  If you ever get diabetes, we’ll handle it.  When it comes to cookies, we’re the toughest,” and I breathe out as slowly, slowly, slowly as I can.

Diasend: Now With More CGM!?

Is it a glitch?  A misfiring Internet tube?  A mistake that they haven’t realized yet and now I’m that jerk for pointing it out?  WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?!!

Dexcom data, now available for upload on Diasend.  I don’t know when this changed (last time I looked was over 18 months ago), but it’s working now.  Even here, deep in Rhode Island (can’t go too deep, actually, as it’s a very small state).

After digging through the box of diabetes-related cables that lives in my bathroom cupboard, I can easily upload my glucose meter (Verio Sync), insulin pump (Animas Ping – actually not the easiest upload because it requires dongle dexterity and I can barely say “dongle” without losing it, so being dextrous is extra difficult), and continuous glucose monitor (Dexcom G4).  All my data garbage, dumped into one source.

It’s not streamlined, but it’s closer, and I’ll frigging take it.

(For a list of supported devices, check out this link.  And if you knew Diasend worked with Dexcom for US accounts a long time ago, sorry for being late to the game.  Also, why didn’t you tell me?  I am now VERY EXCITED and the CAPS BUTTON is sort of STUCK.)

February Comes Fast.

Chris always sums up Spare a Rose in the same way:  “It’s so simple. So sticky. And so important.”

Because it is.

February is fast-approaching (Don’t act like you don’t know – it’s October today!  Time refuses to stand still.) and now is the time to start thinking about how you and your company can participate in the Spare a Rose campaign next Valentine’s Day.  February 1 – 14th.

Yeah, I said you and your company.  This topic came up on a call a few months ago, about opening the campaign to offices and employers.  “Earn a casual dress day for your office!” sort of sentiments (except when I pitched this idea to a super cool Austin PR firm, it sort of backfired because their dress code is already casual, so I recommended a Wear a Tux to Work day).  Put an empty flower vase on the front desk with a sign that says, “Best bouquet of roses I’ve ever received!!” with a link to SpareARose.org.  There are a lot of fun ways to bring awareness and funding for Life for a Child.

Also, now is a perfect time to bring up Spare A Rose to media outlets who might be planning their editorial calendars for next year already.  If you’d like to see the campaign highlighted in your magazine of choice, reach out to the editor and let them know about it.

You can sign up to receive updates on the campaign here.

You can learn more about the In My Office ideas here.

Want some beautiful images?  Here you go.

Here’s a handy FAQ about Spare a Rose.

It’s a simple sentiment with tremendous outcome:  spare a rose, save a child.  Thanks for thinking ahead to February and being part of the solution.

 

Best Intentions Need to Stick.

Yesterday, my bag was packed with all kinds of good intentions.  My CGM sensor was only three day old, on a bright and shiny Toughpad to prevent adhesive rash!  The Dexcom receiver was fully charged!  My CGM in the Cloud rig was all charged up and ready to send my data into the cloud so that I would have a safety net while traveling to Washington, DC for the night.  Extra test strips and a fully charged Verio Sync meter?  I’M ON IT.  My wallet even had a few slips of Opsite Flexifix tape cut into band-aid sized strips and wedged into the change purse, ready to help hold down a wilting sensor.

Much best!  So intentioned!

… which did me zero good when I arrived in DC and my receiver threw a SENSOR FAILED error message after I went to the gym, forcing me to reboot before dinner.  Which meant I went to dinner without a CGM graph, which made me feel like I was sort of flying blind, but then I realized I left my glucose meter in my hotel room so I was actually flying blind without any way to check my blood sugar or calibrate my CGM during the meal.

… and then, sometime during the night, the sensor came loose and fell off my thigh.

All these good intentions? They need to STICK.

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