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Posts tagged ‘type 1 diabetes’

Pros and Cons of Going Gluten-Free. (and a brief lament about the smooshed banana)

It’s been about seven weeks on this “no way, gluten!” lifestyle, and I’m starting to find my footing.  But there are still many pros and cons to balance, so I’m listing them here.  That way, I can look back at this post in a few months and be all, “Pfffft.  Whiner.  You’re in the zone now.”

Here we go – PROS and CONS of Going Gluten-Free in ALL CAPS at times because that’s the only way my brain can operate this morning.

CON:  It’s a pain in the ass, doing this.  Reading food labels for carbohydrate content and grams of sugar in pursuit of better blood sugar control is second nature to me by this point.  After 28 years with type 1 diabetes, I’m comfortable with the carbs.  But trolling labels for that bright, shiny GF logo, or reading through each ingredient to ensure that I’m not inadvertently eating gluten is a new adventure, and one that I find very intrusive.

PRO:  As a result, weight management has been easier lately.  Which I guess is a plus but at the same time, I’m hungry, so I can’t call this a total pro.

CON:  I’m hungry.  (See above.)  All the time.  Mostly because I’m unsure of what to eat, and that insecurity leads me to eat the same things all the time.  Staples like hard boiled eggs, grilled chicken, spinach salad, yogurt, almonds, and every fruit I can get my paws on dominate my days.  Menu items like gluten-free pizza, butternut squash (done with GF ingredients), and chicken soup are being explored, but my natural inclination to be a lazy chef makes this sort of exploration tougher.

PRO:  Eating the same things all the time makes me very familiar with how they map out, blood sugar wise.  So I’m best able to pre-bolus with precision and my post-prandials aren’t gross.  This is boring as eff, but effective for diabetes management.

CON:  Low blood sugars have been really weird lately, especially the ones that follow a visit to the gym.  Before going gluten-free, I’d eat froast or some other glutened up snack to keep my blood sugar steady through cardio (yes, there are other options, but I can’t pretend to have chomped on kale during a run – that would be a big, fat lie and kale hates lies).  Now, I’m erring on the side of fruit and sometimes those sugars get in and out of my system too quickly to hold me for an entire workout.  I’m still figuring out what foods work best to deal with during- and post-exercise hypoglycemia.

PRO:  Glucolift Wildberry tabs are gluten-free.

CON:  Traveling is weird now, too, keeping gluten off my plate.  Airports are not designed for people with dietary needs or preferences, especially little airports like the one I frequent here in Providence.  Finding foods that are gluten-free while on the road is tough, with little exception.  Once I land somewhere, I’m fine, but while in transit, I keep my bag stashed with snacks.

PRO:  I’m learning a lot about what foods travel well.  These gf bars are among my favorites to toss in a backpack, and while they are not as healthy as something fresh, they can stand up to traveling with me and they are more filling than the Southwest pretzels that I can’t eat.

CON:  Bananas do not keep well in backpacks.  They turn brown quickly and often end up smeared on … oh, let’s say the lid of a laptop.

PRO:  I wash my backpack more often than I ever have before, and now it permanently smells like dryer sheets.  Which is a nice contrast to my computer, which smells permanently like bananas now.

CON:  I hate being “that girl.”  The one who asks waitstaff if certain menu options can be made without gluten.  The one who reads labels before taking a bite of anything.  The one who might be mistakenly marked as someone following a “trend diet” instead of someone who is unhappily-but-smartly following through on feedback from her body.  As good as I feel off gluten, I wish I could still eat the stuff and not make waves.

PRO:  I’m learning not to care about feeling slightly embarrassed because DUDE I feel so much better.

“You’re more … you.  The change between then and now is significant,” Chris said the other day.

He’s right.  My mood/disposition/health/everything since kicking gluten out of my diet has been ten steps in the best direction.  All of the non-celiac gluten sensitivity symptoms are gone.  The “head fog” where I would forget what I was doing or what I was about to say has receded.  The numbness and tingling in my hands and wrists is gone.  The ache in my hip joints after running is gone.  I don’t want to spend the afternoon taking a nap on the couch.  My energy is back.  My face is less puffy.  I can chase Birdy without feeling like my feet are in lead boots.  It took months to tune in to how poorly I felt, but now that I’m feeling better, the change is undeniable.

As much as I miss being more carefree about food, a gluten-free diet is the best fit for me.  And after almost three decades of type 1 diabetes, what’s one more food constraint?  So long as coffee and wine remain in the mix, I’m good.

Show Me Your Pump … Or Not.

During a presentation in Duluth, MN last week, I was talking about my family and I used a photo in the slide deck that I’ve used many times before.  It’s one of Birdy, Chris, and I and we’re at some park on a sunny fall day, enjoying the sunshine.

“This is my family.  And right there – RIGHT THERE – is my diabetes.  Can’t miss it.  It’s just THERE and it’s always there.  I love this photo because it shows off my wonderful husband and the daughter I went to the ends of the earth and back for, and I couldn’t be prouder and more in love with my family.  But then there’s that reminder again, the reminder of diabetes and the intrusion it makes into my life.  Like I said, I love this photo.  But I want to Photoshop the hell out of that one part.”

Diabetes has not been a smooth ride for the last few weeks.  Unusual moments like a skunked bottle of insulin and two Dexcom sensors that rolled off my skin way too early, a few low blood sugars that fucked with my happiness a little bit … all stuff that sometimes happens, but lately it feels like it’s always something.

A relentless itchy patch left behind by a Dexcom sensor from weeks ago on my right thigh that, in the middle of the night itches so badly that I scrape at it while I’m sleeping, only to wake up and find blood underneath my fingernails sums up how I’ve felt lately.  (And holy run-on sentence!)  It’s not the actual diabetes moments – the actual low blood sugar, the actual itchy sensor, the actual hour lost to reinforcing to my insurance company that yes, insulin is necessary and should be covered – but the cumulative experience that’s a little more than meh of late.  I’m grateful for access, but having access gives me a perspective that allows for being wildly grumpy at times.  I’m worn out on the self-care crap.  I don’t have any choice but to continue to make the best efforts I can to take care of myself.  Diabetes without self-care becomes chaotic quickly, for me.

There’s no “but,” to that, no caveat.  There’s just a desire to take a sponge and wipe away all the traces of diabetes for just a few hours.

… that, and our coffee pot cracked this morning, so that’s probably not helping my mood.

 

#DOCasksFDA – Your Feedback is Needed, DOC!

THIS IS THE LINK TO THE SURVEYRead below for more information on the virtual discussion between the diabetes community and the FDA, and how your input will shape that discussion, and potentially our future.

“On November 3 from 1pm-4pm EDT, the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and the diabetes community will host an unprecedented event to discuss unmet needs in diabetes. As a community, our job is to present the numerous challenges we as patients face each day, and we need your opinions to be a part of this discussion! Please fill out this short survey to share your thoughts on what’s important to you when it comes to living with diabetes. Your feedback will go directly to FDA and help influence the conversation on November 3.

Please answer the questions that follow as honestly as you can. Your answers could affect the way the FDA perceives unmet needs in diabetes, and ultimately, how it reviews the risks and benefits of new drugs and devices.”

THIS IS THE LINK TO THE SURVEY AGAIN.  IT IS IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE IT IS IMPORTANT AND YOU ARE IMPORTANT AND YOUR OPINIONS ARE IMPORTANT.  As a community, we need to raise our voices.  Please show the FDA that we are many, we are empowered, and we are loud.

Link coming soon so that you can register for the discussion, but in the meantime, please fill out the survey and share it with your DOC friends.  And thanks!!

Opening a Can of Gluten-Free Pumpkin Whoop Ass.

I’m five-ish weeks into a gluten-free life, and the waah waaaaaah is starting to wear off.  (I can’t pretend to be above the waaah.  Diabetes is such a food-anchored disease, and an additional restriction acts as an extra fun vacuum, sucking the fun out of meals even more.)  But I’m rounding a corner with this new (and admittedly self-imposed, but with good reason) restriction, and it’s time to start branching out.

My mother-in-law is an excellent cook and she gifted America’s Test Kitchen:  How Can It Be Gluten-Free cookbook to Chris and I after learning about our gluten-free leanings.  For a few weeks, I avoided opening it because I was feeling crummy about the transition, but this morning Birdy and I decided to tackle the gluten-free pumpkin bread.

I don’t know what copyright infringements exist when it comes to recipes, so I’m opting to not post the recipe here (I’m scared of the Test Kitchen people), but I will confirm that the bread, although a little bit of a pain in the butt to prepare, was delicious.  IS delicious, because it’s still sitting out on the kitchen counter cooling and the whole house smells terrific.

The bread recipe only called for 1/2 a cup of pumpkin, so we had the majority of a can of pumpkin left over, all nice-smelling and tempting us to make something else.

“COOKIES!!!” yelled Birdy, which is her answer to just about everything.  (A close second to “Why?”)

“Okay, let’s hunt down some cookies that have pumpkin in them,” I replied.

“Why?”

“Because … you just said cookies?”

“Oh yeah.  I forgot.”

Moving on.

We found a gluten-free pumpkin sandwich cookie via Google with these puffy, awesome pumpkin cookies and a cream cheese filling, so have at it we did.  Navigating the gluten-free curve has been interesting, though, because I am learning how many random things have gluten in them.  Like vanilla.  The vanilla in our cupboard is imitation (don’t hate) and according to Chef Google probably contains gluten (and also anal secretions from beavers WTF), so we used the makeshift substitution at the bottom of the recipe of 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon plus 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger, 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg and 1/8 teaspoon ground cloves.

The end result, though visually clumsy, was also delicious.

It’s easier for me to avoid desserts most of the time because eating less junk makes the most sense for me, diabetes-wise.  But for those moments when I’d like to enjoy something sweet, I’m glad there are options that won’t wreck havoc on my body.  Gluten-free doesn’t have to be gross, and I’m slowly learning that fact.

LOW.

BEEP!BEEP!BEEP! from the Dexcom receiver on the bedside table.

I heard it beeping for a long time.

Woke up with sweat pouring off my forehead and running down the side of my face, pooling up in my ears and in my collarbone.  The pillow was soaked.  My hair was soaked.  An outline of me underneath me, the line drawn with the panicked sweat of hypoglycemia.

Panic.  But tempered panic, since I was so deep into the low that I was slow in recognizing anything.  My status updated slowly:  This is a low.  This is a bad, bad low.  Eat something in a hurry or you’ll probably die.

The juice box on the bedside table was hard to assemble.  Plastic sleeve around the straw, poking the straw through the foil hole … all actions I’ve done before but it took 30 seconds apiece for me to figure out how the whole thing worked.  I drank the juice as fast as I could, in just a gulp or two and then I settled back into my self-made sweat lodge.

A few minutes later – maybe two, maybe twenty – Birdy arrived fresh from a nightmare, clutching her blanket and asking to sleep in our bed because she was scared.  I don’t remember gathering her up, but I do remember putting her on the outskirts of my dampness, snuggling her up against her still-sleeping father.  I was scared, too, still arranging blankets, trying to find a cool, dry section.  I looked at the Dexcom, and it only told me I was LOW and had been LOW for a long time.

Normally, I get up and brush my teeth after a low blood sugar.  Sometimes I use the hairdryer to dry my hypo-damped hair.  This time, I couldn’t move my ankles without feeling the dizziness flooding up to my hairline.  I used the edge of my t-shirt to mop the sweat from my ears.  So gross.  But necessary.

This morning I woke up chilled to the bone, the result of falling back asleep soaked to the skin and then drying off in the cool, fall night.  The Dexcom told me I had risen up safely to 109 mg/dL, and my meter confirmed that result.  My family bounced up and was ready to start their day, and I followed behind them, nursing the hypoglycemic hangover, grateful for technology that woke me up and for portion-controlled hypo treatment, but pretty fucking pissed off that diabetes was the nightmare last night.

 

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.

“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.

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