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Posts tagged ‘work’

Breathing Room.

Outside of this blog, I don’t do a lot of talking about diabetes.  When I’m at the beach with my daughter and my friends, or hanging out with my husband, it’s not diabetes-talk all the time.  It’s not:

“Yeah, let’s definitely check out that movie!  My blood sugar is 93 mg/dL.”

“Do you want to go to dinner at 7.30 or 8?  I put a new pump site in today.”

“Hey Sparl – we need to remember to get more cat food when we go to the store.  I checked my feet this morning to make sure I didn’t have any blisters or wounds.  Oh, and we need bananas.”

Nope.  Most of my diabetes musings take place on my blog, because it’s where I can stash all of my diabetes-related thoughts and issues for safe-keeping, letting me empty out my brain and go about the rest of my day without tilting to one side due to diabetes overload of the frontal lobe.  (I imagine my brain with a kangaroo pocket on the front, and that’s where all the diabetes crap lives.  None of this is medically accurate.)

Lately, I haven’t had much time to empty out the pocket.  Blood sugars have been unsettled the last two weeks (despite insulin) and the work/life balance is off kilter at the moment, as I’ve been dedicating a lot of time to a side project (due this afternoon – thank goodness!) and spending as much time as possible with Birdy before heading out to AADE this week.  Time to sit down and shake out my brain has been tough to come by.  I need to regroup asap, as diabetes thoughts are starting to spill out awkwardly.

“Hey Siah!  Do you want to come in?  A waffle has 18 grams of carbs, you silly kitty.”

“Meow?”

“A meow doesn’t have any carbs.”

Judgmental look from cat.  “Meow.”

 

Despite Insulin …

The Sparling household has reached a frenzied pitch of stress this week, with a big project for me reaching the finish line simultaneously as a big project for my husband begins.  Overall, we manage our family circus (… could Billy ever get anywhere without leaving a trail of dashes in his wake?  Gross.) without stepping into the ‘unhealthy’ zone, but the last few days have been an exception.

For me, stress usually leads to higher-than-normal blood sugars, even despite insulin.  (Or “to spite insulin.”)  And not in that, “Oh, I didn’t bolus enough, so I’ll just correct this high,” sort of way, but in the “What the EFF – I just rage bolused the hell out of that blood sugar and it still won’t budge.”  This week has been all sorts of that, with fasting blood sugars as the only ones I’m comfortable keeping.  For the last few days, it’s taking 150% basal to keep me even close to range, and my insulin:carb ratio has been tweaked to accommodate the exceptionally busy week.

That 233 mg/dL?  All emotional, no other influence.  Insulin is good, food wasn’t introduced yet, basal rate was solid, and no I’m not pregnant.  I was 108 mg/dL an hour earlier.  This high was the product of stress.  It always amazes me to see how tightly woven my blood sugars are to my emotions.

The bad news is that my meter average, with which I was very comfortable last week, has gone to absolute shit.  I feel more tired and the highs are making me feel grumpier and shorter-tempered than normal.  (Which, if you’ve met me, is sadly saying a lot, because my average fuse is the length of a whisper.)  I’m not able to parent the way I’d like, because these highs are sapping me of my funergy (energy for fun).  I hate when diabetes derails time with my daughter.

The good news is that I know the cause of these diabetes radar blips, and I know things will be much more manageable in a few days.  Until then, I need to do whatever it takes to coast.  Testing more and correcting while taking the insulin-resistent instigation of stress into account?  Trying hard not to consume coffee as though it’s a necessary and actual basal rate?  Moments like these make me thankful for the CGM, because I can respond to trends, and I get a head’s up when I’m over- or under-compensating for stress.

For now, I’m in “just keep swimming” mode, hopeful that the highs will abate and leave me the hell alone in a couple of days.

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