Last week we had “Bring Your Child to Work Day” at the office. I have been through many over the years and some are fun. Some are not.
I am logging onto my computer and I feel two pair of eyes on me. Their dad, let’s call him “Adam”, came over and said “these are my daughters, ‘manda and Meghan. I told them you’d help them if they needed anything - I’m going to be out of the office for an hour”. Well, ‘manda and Meghan were the cutest little girls, ages 7 and 9, all dressed up for their visit. They had moved to Minnesota a year ago from Nashville and had the most charming southern accents. Their dad set them up in an ampty office near me and told them he’d go get their “treats”.
Dad comes back with two frosted PopTarts and two cans of Mountain Dew.
He leaves. ‘manda promptly burns her mouth on the PopTart and starts screaming. But soon they were both engaged in a video they’d brought..
Half hour later - “Miss Kathy, can you help us open another treat?” Gummy Bears. I asked if they were allowed to have this and both explained that their dad doesn’t get to see them too often (mom has custody) and he wants them to have as “much fun as possible” so of course it was okay.
Adam finally comes back and says let’s look in the minifridge in his office, where he has a supply of pudding snacks. The girls squeal with delight and start shoveling the pudding. Then they got thirsty and had more soda.
But it was only 10 a.m. I was actually waiting for one of them to vomit.
Things calmed down after the kids found another girl to play with and went to investigate how the paper shredder worked. Then dad took them out for a special lunch.
They came back from lunch with a big shopping bag from Candyland, an old fashioned type confection store, and dumped its contents onto a file cabinet - jawbreakers, licorice, gumdrops. Where on earth did they have room for this huge volume of food?
One of my co-workers had been emailing all morning, asking what Adam was doing stuffing his kids with sweets. I could tell she was getting ready to confront him, and she at last stepped up to the plate.
Why are you feeding the girls all this sugar? Surely you know that eating too much sugar will give you diabetes, just like it did Kathy.By then, a couple other employees were taking in the conversation, and both looked at me and nodded solemnly. Within a second, the conversation had rotated from a dad trying to win his kid’s affection with candy, to me giving myself the db by pigging out on tootsie rolls.
I said “you know, I think I’m gonna call it a day” and left.
The next morning as I put my hand on the mouse it felt all sticky and crusty. There was a little trail of half eaten Jelly Bellys leading to the edge of my desk.
Then I heard someone say that Adam had was not coming in because both girls were sick with a weird 24 hour virus. He hoped they hadn’t been exposed to anything by coming to the office……….tough world, ain’t it?
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Goodbye, Mother
My mother died on Feb 16. Today I feel like I'm sitting in a maze of emptiness, with no concept of time or location.
She was 82 years old, enjoyed good health for most of her life until about 3 years ago when she was diagnosed with end-stage lung disease. She'd had breathing problems for several years, and was always tested for cardiac pathology. We'd celebrate when the angiograms came out clear, having no idea that pulmonary scar tissue was already forming in her lungs.
So, she declined, ever so gradually, but always remembered to call me on Thursday mornings, saying "hi, my girl". Then she started forgetting. One week. Then two weeks in a row. Then the numerous hospital visits started. She lived in a town 70 miles west of Minneapolis, so got to ride in a helicopter more than once. And, finally, the transition to assisted living. She'd say, "I know this is where I need to be" and the tears would roll down her face.
Two weeks ago, the staff suggested she be placed under hospice care. Throughout that day, I wandered around with my stomach in a knot, thinking "this can't be happening". My sister, niece and I had visited her on President's Day, the 15. She was very weak, but asked me to hand her the Valentines she'd gotten in the mail. She loved Valentines - the bigger and more glittery, the better. I remember my niece hugging her goodbye. I remember giving her a kiss on the forehead. I remember silently telling myself that she was just fine.
On Tue, after not having gotten out of bed in several days, she had a surge of energy and wanted to be taken to the game room to play bingo. She stayed for the entire evening. They wheeled her back to her room and she simply stopped breathing.
I got the call and spent the rest of the night sitting on the edge of the bed, staring. My dad has been gone 20 years. And yes, his death was different. At that time I was frightened because I didn't know if I could tolerate the pain of losing him. I guess I thought M's death would be easier. I am indeed glad she is no longer struggling. I'm also glad for myself - not having to jump every time the phone rings. But I still want her to call on Thur morning, telling me how busy she'd been, volunteering at the blood bank and library. Telling me that this was aboslutely the last year she was going to have a garden (well, maybe just a few extra potatoes).
The two of us never talked much about the db. I was in my late teens when diagnosed, and her only reference point was several of my young relatives had died from or were currently suffering from complications. She didn't know how to help me. I don't know what I needed. She'd ask if my testape was still negative and I'd scream back at her. My 20's were very stormy, and I think tne entire family wrote me off as a nutcase. So the silence remained until I required emergency surgery for a detatched retina. She hated the TwinCities - said it made her nervous to be here. When I called and asked if she would come and stay with me, she said "of course." For the entire 7 days that I had to lay on my face to recover, she cleaned. Tidiness is not my forte, but neither am I too slovenly. I was on heavy pain meds and would wake every so often to hear a brush tackling some new surface. "What are you doing, Mom?" ..."Oh, nothing much - do you have an owner's manual for the vacuum cleaner?"
Tonight I will be removing her picture from my family collage frame and putting it on a little table that I have for the ancestors that have passeed - my dad, uncle, and brother. The picture was taken on her 75th birthday, at a little party we had. I got her a corsage, which my sister said was stupid, but M loved it. She said she even wore it to church the next Sunday....."it was a little wilted, but I wanted them to know I got it from you".
Mom, I miss you already. I know you are in a better place. My favorite recent memory will be this past Christmas, when you had on your bright red sweater and were smiling because you family was all together. Rest in peace.
She was 82 years old, enjoyed good health for most of her life until about 3 years ago when she was diagnosed with end-stage lung disease. She'd had breathing problems for several years, and was always tested for cardiac pathology. We'd celebrate when the angiograms came out clear, having no idea that pulmonary scar tissue was already forming in her lungs.
So, she declined, ever so gradually, but always remembered to call me on Thursday mornings, saying "hi, my girl". Then she started forgetting. One week. Then two weeks in a row. Then the numerous hospital visits started. She lived in a town 70 miles west of Minneapolis, so got to ride in a helicopter more than once. And, finally, the transition to assisted living. She'd say, "I know this is where I need to be" and the tears would roll down her face.
Two weeks ago, the staff suggested she be placed under hospice care. Throughout that day, I wandered around with my stomach in a knot, thinking "this can't be happening". My sister, niece and I had visited her on President's Day, the 15. She was very weak, but asked me to hand her the Valentines she'd gotten in the mail. She loved Valentines - the bigger and more glittery, the better. I remember my niece hugging her goodbye. I remember giving her a kiss on the forehead. I remember silently telling myself that she was just fine.
On Tue, after not having gotten out of bed in several days, she had a surge of energy and wanted to be taken to the game room to play bingo. She stayed for the entire evening. They wheeled her back to her room and she simply stopped breathing.
I got the call and spent the rest of the night sitting on the edge of the bed, staring. My dad has been gone 20 years. And yes, his death was different. At that time I was frightened because I didn't know if I could tolerate the pain of losing him. I guess I thought M's death would be easier. I am indeed glad she is no longer struggling. I'm also glad for myself - not having to jump every time the phone rings. But I still want her to call on Thur morning, telling me how busy she'd been, volunteering at the blood bank and library. Telling me that this was aboslutely the last year she was going to have a garden (well, maybe just a few extra potatoes).
The two of us never talked much about the db. I was in my late teens when diagnosed, and her only reference point was several of my young relatives had died from or were currently suffering from complications. She didn't know how to help me. I don't know what I needed. She'd ask if my testape was still negative and I'd scream back at her. My 20's were very stormy, and I think tne entire family wrote me off as a nutcase. So the silence remained until I required emergency surgery for a detatched retina. She hated the TwinCities - said it made her nervous to be here. When I called and asked if she would come and stay with me, she said "of course." For the entire 7 days that I had to lay on my face to recover, she cleaned. Tidiness is not my forte, but neither am I too slovenly. I was on heavy pain meds and would wake every so often to hear a brush tackling some new surface. "What are you doing, Mom?" ..."Oh, nothing much - do you have an owner's manual for the vacuum cleaner?"
Tonight I will be removing her picture from my family collage frame and putting it on a little table that I have for the ancestors that have passeed - my dad, uncle, and brother. The picture was taken on her 75th birthday, at a little party we had. I got her a corsage, which my sister said was stupid, but M loved it. She said she even wore it to church the next Sunday....."it was a little wilted, but I wanted them to know I got it from you".
Mom, I miss you already. I know you are in a better place. My favorite recent memory will be this past Christmas, when you had on your bright red sweater and were smiling because you family was all together. Rest in peace.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Over the Top (..or over the hill?)
My friend Colleen has nominated me for the
Over the Top blog award. Colleen and I first became acquainted a couple of years ago when she was talking about the pink lady slipper. I replied back that it is the Minnesota State Flower, and we've been friends ever since. We also both wear Mary Poppins hats, although in recent days, with our below-zero weather, I've taken to
my Elmer Fudd version with the earflaps.
Colleen was also very helpful to me when my mother transitioned to assisted living. Her dad was in a nursing home and we emailed a lot about dealing with aging parents. Thanks Colleen.
Here are my responses to the survey
1. Where is your cell phone? I don't own one.
2. Your hair? Wild Oat with Carmel highlights.
3. Your mother? In assisted living.
4. Your father? Deceased for 22 years.
5. Your favorite food? Pasta salad with tuna, celery, onions, and Hellmann's real full fat mayo.
6. Your dream last night? Don't recall.
7. Your favorite drink? Ice cold Diet Pepsi with lemon.
8. Your dream/goal? Peace of mind.
9. What room are you in? Drafty bedroom.
10. Your hobby? Knitting and beadwork.
11. Your fear? Becoming disabled from db and being a burden to someone.
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Maintaining my health and aging gracefully.
13. Where were you last night? Home.
14. Something you aren't? Skinny.
15. Muffins? Blueberry
16. Wish list item? Car.
17. Where did you grow up? A small charming prairie town in central Minnesota. Free band concerts every Friday night in the park. Quiet, tree-lined streets. Neighbors helping one another.
18. Last thing you did? Ate a Lean Cuisine and two perfectly ripe clementines.
19. What are you wearing? An unbecoming fuzzy purple bathrobe and big clunky clogs my cousin brought me from Norway.
20. Your tv? Too small.
21. Your pets? None. But I'd like a miniature Schnauzer. I'd put bows in its hair.
22. Your friends? Precious beyond gold.
23. Your life? Chaotic.
24. Your mood? Anxious.
25. MIssing someone? Yes. My friend, Andrea, who died last March.
26. Vehicle? None. I gave up my car over a year ago in order to have more $ to pay diabetes expenses. However, I am very partial to Honda Civics.
27. Something you're not wearing? Medical i.d. bracelet.
28. Your favorite store? Knitpicks Online Knitting Store
29. Your favorite color? Sapphire blue.
30. When was the last time you laughed? This morning.
31. Cried? At 3 p.m. at work. My middle nephew fainted during basketball and was being evaluated for cardiac problems over the last two days. They found he has unstable blood pressure, which runs in his dad's family. It can be controlled with medication. When my sis emailed me and told me he was going to be okay, I cried, because I love him dearly.
32. Your best friend? E.
33.One place that I go over and over? Fort Snelling State Park - I call it my "hidden jewel" because it's right here in town and few people know about it. And I certainly don't go blabbing it around. It has trails for hiking and biking, a swimming beach and picnic areas. There are two picnic shelters for use in winter, with big stone fireplaces. Very peaceful on a summer afternoon, sitting under one of the big cottonwood trees......
34. One person who emails me regularly? JT, a lawyer from my company's NY headquarters. I have to check in with him, so it's not voluntary.
35. Favorite place to eat? The Bombay Bistro. Yum times ten.
And here are 3 sisters that I pass the torch to:
Zazzy, also known as my vindaloo sister. Zaz is not afraid to delve into deep emotions and has a lot o f wisdom and insight. (And two very cool kitties). She is extremely honest with her life and determined to improve it. She also has a cookiong site, Chicken and Eggs which always makes me hungry.
Next we have Molly, at
Dam Diabetes. Molly , who lives in my neck of the woods, blogs about her super-pooch, Dixie. (I think Dixie is from anoter planet.) Dixie helps Molly to safely live an active life as a schoolteacher, despite having hypo unawareness. In the summer then go canoeing at
Boundary Waters Canoe Area in northern Minnesota. This wilderness is populated by big mean bears, mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds, and, of course Bigfoot.
And Heidi, over at
The D Log Cabin, who writes creative poetry. Heidi is a very smart lady and knowledgeable about science, medicine and db. Heidi is also an EMT, and if I were in need of medical assistance, I'd like her to be the one to help me.
Wow. That was a lot of linking. And my 'puter ain't in a linking mood. But it was fun to get reconnected again after not posting since November.
Happy and Healthy New Year to all! xoxoxoxoxox
Friday, November 13, 2009
WDD Eve
World Diabetes Day. My first thought, as through most of my post-diagnosis days, is “this isn’t fair”. Why is diabetes affecting the lives of so many across the globe that we have to have a day for it? No fair whatsoever.
I am no longer in denial of my diabetes. And blogging has helped to nurture a positive attitude, but it also brings me close and up-front to the struggles that a lot of fine people go through. As I come to know more people and consider them my friends, I get mad as a hornet knowing what db does to us, on all levels of our existence. The want to strangle the monster until it disappears in a mist of vapor.
I have many days when I’m filled with optimism - and rightly so. Research and technology are advancing exponentially and I expect many more improvements yet to come in my lifetime. But I don’t expect a cure. And so here I am, stuck in the foreverland of being a person with diabetes.
I don’t know if it’s the stage of life that I’m in, or the fact that my mother is on the home stretch, or my job insecurity, but lately I’ve been feeling very nostalgic and thinking about growing up and times gone by. Some surprisingly poignant and lovely memories have crept out of the shadows, like berry picking on my g’ma’s farm, and ice fishing with my dad, and sneaking away to go shopping in a “big town” with my high school girlfriends.
Tonight on the eve of WDD, I remember my relatives who have died from TiDM.
The first person (that we know of) was diagnosed in 1945. Age 9. She died 7 years later. And several more died after that.
These people who shared my bloodline
- had to boil their glass syringes (as one of my TD friends put it, “the needles always develoved barbs on them so they hurt coming out as well as going in”
- had to put urine and a fizzy tablet in a test tube
- had to adhere to a ridgid exchange system, where there was no room for a pancake or brownie
- did not have ACE inhibitors to protect their kidneys
- did not have statins to control blood lipids
- faced across the board job descrimination
- had no publications, support groups and Online Communities to help with the difficult emotions.
There should probably be a whole other day of remembrance for those who died before the discovery of insulin.
But tomorrow, please don’t forget the people who bravely faced life in the early days of insulin. Let the strength of their collective spirit carry you forward when you face challenging times.
All of us, old/young; type 1/type 2; pumpers/pokers; newly diagnosed/veterans are in this together. The ocean refuses no river. Do something nice for somebody tomorrow. Trust life. Press on to a better future, for all of us.
Click here for lyrics to the song below. You won't be disappointed.
I am no longer in denial of my diabetes. And blogging has helped to nurture a positive attitude, but it also brings me close and up-front to the struggles that a lot of fine people go through. As I come to know more people and consider them my friends, I get mad as a hornet knowing what db does to us, on all levels of our existence. The want to strangle the monster until it disappears in a mist of vapor.
I have many days when I’m filled with optimism - and rightly so. Research and technology are advancing exponentially and I expect many more improvements yet to come in my lifetime. But I don’t expect a cure. And so here I am, stuck in the foreverland of being a person with diabetes.
I don’t know if it’s the stage of life that I’m in, or the fact that my mother is on the home stretch, or my job insecurity, but lately I’ve been feeling very nostalgic and thinking about growing up and times gone by. Some surprisingly poignant and lovely memories have crept out of the shadows, like berry picking on my g’ma’s farm, and ice fishing with my dad, and sneaking away to go shopping in a “big town” with my high school girlfriends.
Tonight on the eve of WDD, I remember my relatives who have died from TiDM.
The first person (that we know of) was diagnosed in 1945. Age 9. She died 7 years later. And several more died after that.
These people who shared my bloodline
- had to boil their glass syringes (as one of my TD friends put it, “the needles always develoved barbs on them so they hurt coming out as well as going in”
- had to put urine and a fizzy tablet in a test tube
- had to adhere to a ridgid exchange system, where there was no room for a pancake or brownie
- did not have ACE inhibitors to protect their kidneys
- did not have statins to control blood lipids
- faced across the board job descrimination
- had no publications, support groups and Online Communities to help with the difficult emotions.
There should probably be a whole other day of remembrance for those who died before the discovery of insulin.
But tomorrow, please don’t forget the people who bravely faced life in the early days of insulin. Let the strength of their collective spirit carry you forward when you face challenging times.
All of us, old/young; type 1/type 2; pumpers/pokers; newly diagnosed/veterans are in this together. The ocean refuses no river. Do something nice for somebody tomorrow. Trust life. Press on to a better future, for all of us.
Click here for lyrics to the song below. You won't be disappointed.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Stranger to My Kin
Last weekend I went with my sister F and niece E to a family reunion in my home town. I agreed to go because F is close to a couple of second cousins who were visiting from out of state and I agreed to stick pretty close to my mom, in case she became disoriented.
TIDM is prevalent in my extended family. My g’ma had 11 siblings and my dad had 78 cousins. It was the generation of the children of the 78 cousins that developed db - no cases outside of that (yes, I still get anxious if my nephews ask for a refill on their pop).
So, there have been 34 of us diagnosed - the first in 1949 and the last in 1995. 19 are dead, with the rest of us in various states of health. Many of them live on the west coast so only myself and another man represented the db contingent of the family at the gathering. I have never spoken with any of these people about living with db. I don’t care to.
We were also celebrating my M’s 82nd birthday and had brought a big cake to share. F was cutting it and E and I passing out pieces.
My great-aunt L was there with her identical twin sister, B. B is obnoxious and outspoken and rude. She has never been a favorite of mine.
L has a grandson with T1, now 35 years old, in a nursing home. He had some major strokes a few years. ago and is essentially unresponsive.
So, I line the little paper plates up my forearm and head over to where L and B are sitting. The conversation went like this:
L: Now, who are you?
K: I’m H’s daughter, Kathy.
L whispers to B: She takes those shots too.
B: How awful. I can’t think of anything worse to have.
L: Neither can I. Terrible. Just terrible.
B: Why are you carrying that cake? You can’t have cake.
K: It’s my mom’s birthday cake.
B: But you can’t have any.
K: (smiles and contemplates smashing the cake in B’s face)
L: No, she can’t have any.
L: Did you know that they had to cut off part of G’s foot before he died? It was from the sugar.
B: Why, most people who have it are just skin and bones. You don’t look like you’ve missed many meals.
K: Yes, I am thankful that I have enough to eat when so many are starving across the globe.
B: Do you get those terrible pains in your legs like W’s kid?
K: No, I don’t.
B: It’s horrible. Just horrible. And to think you can’t have your mother’s b’day cake. Why are they making you serve cake you can’t have?
By then the conversation was starting to pierce my armor, like a knife twisting its way around my heart. I was feeling vulnerable.I I was close to tears and wanted to yell, “yes, I have diabetes but I’m not a freak”. Then it seemed to me that everyone in the room was staring at me, commenting to themselves that over there is one of “the diabetics in the family.”
No, I did not feel like sitting down and calmly talking about my treatment routine. B just wouldn’t get it. It would have been wasted effort. And I also didn’t want L to start talking about her grandson - do you think I need to be reminded about what db can do to a person?
But I wasn’t seeing the entire picture. B is a bitter lady, being very envious that her twin had a relatively comfortable life and B hadn’t enough to make ends meet. That sort of history can make your attitude spiteful and distorted. Maybe it validates one’s misery to focus on all the hardship in the world.
B: (pointing to my niece) Who is that girl? How did she get invited when she’s not one of the relatives?
K: That’s F’s daughter, E. She became a member of our family 5 years ago when F brought her home from China.
B: Well, I’ve heard those Korean orphans are all the daughters of prostitutes.
K. Maybe so, but she is very precious to us and we love her a lot.
B: Did they check her for worms when she got here?
K: (you’ve got to be kidding).
Well, by that time I sure didn’t want any cake, nor the variety of casseroles (made with condensed soup and attractively garnished with pimento) that were served later.
I said to F, “I need to get out of here”. and she agreed. So we took M back to the residence and I got in the backseat with E to work on old Beatle songs, which we practice in the car. She has tired of “Good Day Sunshine” and moved on to “Yellow Submarine”. Then she reminded me how much she dislikes the White Album.
F suggested we stop at Red Lobster, since we both were famished. We split a big platter of shrimp and crab, and the events of the day were blamed on small town living, old age, and the cake that “I couldn’t have”.
TIDM is prevalent in my extended family. My g’ma had 11 siblings and my dad had 78 cousins. It was the generation of the children of the 78 cousins that developed db - no cases outside of that (yes, I still get anxious if my nephews ask for a refill on their pop).
So, there have been 34 of us diagnosed - the first in 1949 and the last in 1995. 19 are dead, with the rest of us in various states of health. Many of them live on the west coast so only myself and another man represented the db contingent of the family at the gathering. I have never spoken with any of these people about living with db. I don’t care to.
We were also celebrating my M’s 82nd birthday and had brought a big cake to share. F was cutting it and E and I passing out pieces.
My great-aunt L was there with her identical twin sister, B. B is obnoxious and outspoken and rude. She has never been a favorite of mine.
L has a grandson with T1, now 35 years old, in a nursing home. He had some major strokes a few years. ago and is essentially unresponsive.
So, I line the little paper plates up my forearm and head over to where L and B are sitting. The conversation went like this:
L: Now, who are you?
K: I’m H’s daughter, Kathy.
L whispers to B: She takes those shots too.
B: How awful. I can’t think of anything worse to have.
L: Neither can I. Terrible. Just terrible.
B: Why are you carrying that cake? You can’t have cake.
K: It’s my mom’s birthday cake.
B: But you can’t have any.
K: (smiles and contemplates smashing the cake in B’s face)
L: No, she can’t have any.
L: Did you know that they had to cut off part of G’s foot before he died? It was from the sugar.
B: Why, most people who have it are just skin and bones. You don’t look like you’ve missed many meals.
K: Yes, I am thankful that I have enough to eat when so many are starving across the globe.
B: Do you get those terrible pains in your legs like W’s kid?
K: No, I don’t.
B: It’s horrible. Just horrible. And to think you can’t have your mother’s b’day cake. Why are they making you serve cake you can’t have?
By then the conversation was starting to pierce my armor, like a knife twisting its way around my heart. I was feeling vulnerable.I I was close to tears and wanted to yell, “yes, I have diabetes but I’m not a freak”. Then it seemed to me that everyone in the room was staring at me, commenting to themselves that over there is one of “the diabetics in the family.”
No, I did not feel like sitting down and calmly talking about my treatment routine. B just wouldn’t get it. It would have been wasted effort. And I also didn’t want L to start talking about her grandson - do you think I need to be reminded about what db can do to a person?
But I wasn’t seeing the entire picture. B is a bitter lady, being very envious that her twin had a relatively comfortable life and B hadn’t enough to make ends meet. That sort of history can make your attitude spiteful and distorted. Maybe it validates one’s misery to focus on all the hardship in the world.
B: (pointing to my niece) Who is that girl? How did she get invited when she’s not one of the relatives?
K: That’s F’s daughter, E. She became a member of our family 5 years ago when F brought her home from China.
B: Well, I’ve heard those Korean orphans are all the daughters of prostitutes.
K. Maybe so, but she is very precious to us and we love her a lot.
B: Did they check her for worms when she got here?
K: (you’ve got to be kidding).
Well, by that time I sure didn’t want any cake, nor the variety of casseroles (made with condensed soup and attractively garnished with pimento) that were served later.
I said to F, “I need to get out of here”. and she agreed. So we took M back to the residence and I got in the backseat with E to work on old Beatle songs, which we practice in the car. She has tired of “Good Day Sunshine” and moved on to “Yellow Submarine”. Then she reminded me how much she dislikes the White Album.
F suggested we stop at Red Lobster, since we both were famished. We split a big platter of shrimp and crab, and the events of the day were blamed on small town living, old age, and the cake that “I couldn’t have”.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Phantom Carbs?
I was in Target today, without a shopping list, and magically my cart became full. Who would have guessed that I needed that much stuff?
Right by the checkout stand was a big display of this:
SoBe Lifewater - "vitamin enhanced water beverage". See that big "0 Calories" at the top of the label? Cool. Sounds yummy. And on sale for $1. I took a bottle of the mango melon flavor.
I got home and was unpacking my stuff, and started to read the back label to see what vitamins it was enhanced with. Yes, I frequently make unwise choices with regard to self-care, but I always read labels. Maybe I'm just curious.
2.5 servings per bottle. 6 gm carbohydrate per serving. SAY WHAT? How can something have carbs but no calories. Carbs and proteins have 4.5 calories per gram; and fats have 9 calories per gram. If I drank the entire bottle, that would be 15 carbs - enough to certifiably treat a hypo.
What is it that I'm not getting here? Someone please explain, or else I'm going to have to call the 800# on Monday morning.
Right by the checkout stand was a big display of this:
SoBe Lifewater - "vitamin enhanced water beverage". See that big "0 Calories" at the top of the label? Cool. Sounds yummy. And on sale for $1. I took a bottle of the mango melon flavor.
I got home and was unpacking my stuff, and started to read the back label to see what vitamins it was enhanced with. Yes, I frequently make unwise choices with regard to self-care, but I always read labels. Maybe I'm just curious.
2.5 servings per bottle. 6 gm carbohydrate per serving. SAY WHAT? How can something have carbs but no calories. Carbs and proteins have 4.5 calories per gram; and fats have 9 calories per gram. If I drank the entire bottle, that would be 15 carbs - enough to certifiably treat a hypo.
What is it that I'm not getting here? Someone please explain, or else I'm going to have to call the 800# on Monday morning.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
CVS To The Rescue
I got to work on Friday morning and was going to have some shredded wheat for breakfast. I opened my purse, and, no insulin. Rarely does this happen.
We have no pharmacies within walking distance of my office. It's an hour bus ride to get back home. I needed all the time possible to prepare for a lunch meeting with some people from our corporate headquarters so could not afford to leave the office even for a few minutes.
I get good coverage from my basal insulin, and could easily do without breakfast. And probably lunch, also, for that matter. But, I did not want to draw attention to the db and sit there not eating anything and having to explain that not only do I have a medical condition, but I forgot my insulin.
Called a Walgreens a couple of miles away. No they do not deliver. No, they knew of no pharmacies that did.
Called a couple of independent pharmacies. Same story.
Called CVS and was immediately talking to the pharmacist. "Are you okay at the moment?" I told her I was fine and needed the insulin in about 3 hours for prandial coverage. "Well, normally, if an order is called in prior to 11 a.m., we'll guarantee delivery by 5 that afternoon. But this is a special case and I'll see what I can do and call you back."
Bless her heart. This dear woman phoned back in about 10 minutes and said she had contacted a private courier service that would get the insulin to me. I explaned that I knew Humalog was a prescription item but I was willing to go with Humalin, which is not. I gave her my credit card number and 30 minutes later the courier delivered the little paper sack. Our receptionist called me and said "Kathy, some man brought you something from the drugstore and he said to be sure you knew it had to be refrigerated right away".
So, the day was happily saved by the professional kindness of a stranger. And, there was no additional charge for the courier. On Monday I am going to call the CVS corporate headquarters and see just who should get the letter commending the people for good work.
I guess an obvious question would be why didn't I have the Humalog script transferred to the CVS pharmacy? Well, I had left a message at my pcp's office first thing. They returned it at 2 that afternoon, after the meeting was over. I know them well enough not to expect a time-sensitive response. Aaarrrrgggghhhh!
We work with the facts of the situation. And sometimes are pleasantly surprised.
We have no pharmacies within walking distance of my office. It's an hour bus ride to get back home. I needed all the time possible to prepare for a lunch meeting with some people from our corporate headquarters so could not afford to leave the office even for a few minutes.
I get good coverage from my basal insulin, and could easily do without breakfast. And probably lunch, also, for that matter. But, I did not want to draw attention to the db and sit there not eating anything and having to explain that not only do I have a medical condition, but I forgot my insulin.
Called a Walgreens a couple of miles away. No they do not deliver. No, they knew of no pharmacies that did.
Called a couple of independent pharmacies. Same story.
Called CVS and was immediately talking to the pharmacist. "Are you okay at the moment?" I told her I was fine and needed the insulin in about 3 hours for prandial coverage. "Well, normally, if an order is called in prior to 11 a.m., we'll guarantee delivery by 5 that afternoon. But this is a special case and I'll see what I can do and call you back."
Bless her heart. This dear woman phoned back in about 10 minutes and said she had contacted a private courier service that would get the insulin to me. I explaned that I knew Humalog was a prescription item but I was willing to go with Humalin, which is not. I gave her my credit card number and 30 minutes later the courier delivered the little paper sack. Our receptionist called me and said "Kathy, some man brought you something from the drugstore and he said to be sure you knew it had to be refrigerated right away".
So, the day was happily saved by the professional kindness of a stranger. And, there was no additional charge for the courier. On Monday I am going to call the CVS corporate headquarters and see just who should get the letter commending the people for good work.
I guess an obvious question would be why didn't I have the Humalog script transferred to the CVS pharmacy? Well, I had left a message at my pcp's office first thing. They returned it at 2 that afternoon, after the meeting was over. I know them well enough not to expect a time-sensitive response. Aaarrrrgggghhhh!
We work with the facts of the situation. And sometimes are pleasantly surprised.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Time Thief
Last Monday, I had the pleasure of celebrating my oldest nephew's graduation from the University of Minnesota.
(Isn't he just impossibly cute?) Yes, his mother cried. Yes, I cried. I had such a big jumble of emotions inside me, I had to sit down on a bench for a couple of minutes.
Never, ever, did I expect to still be living on this day. And yet here I am, with 35 years of db under my belt. I work and support myself. I am a valued friend and family member, and contribute to my community. At present I have nothing to be p-ssed off about. Except the years that db stole from me. Or, were they the years I willingly gave away?
I remember the day that L was born. My sister called me at work, and after I hung up the phone I went into the supply room and cried among the sticky notes and rubber bands. Not tears of joy, but tears of rage because I mostly likely wouldn't be around to see this little boy enter first grade.
Their family lived about 4 hours north of here, so I saw L maybe 3 times a year. Sure, I sent birthday cards and Xmas gifts, but, I kept my distance because I didn't want him to know and love an auntie who dropped dead in her 30's. (Yeah, I know. Makes no sense to me now).
It wasn't until he came to Minneapolis to start college that I let down my defenses. I invited him to lunch. He had initially intended on becoming a pharmacist so it was no problem for me to test my blood in front of him. Each time we got together, our visits became more intimate and all the years of distance dropped away. I know that he and I talked about things that he was not willing to discuss with his parents. And I'm thankful he felt confident to share these issues with me.
So, off he is going to his first job as an actuary at the State Farm Insurance headuarters in Bloomington Illinois. And, I'm full expecting to be around to dance at his wedding. Yes, it's a strange feeling. But I'm okay with that.
Heck, why not really tempt fate and fully expect to be around to dance at this little gal's wedding?
No her mother did not forget to wash her face. E had been to a birthday party with a lady bug theme. Hence and red and black dots.
John Lennon said that "life is what happens when you're making other plans". Well, I guess I was planning to die. And now I'm planning to live. Don't know for how long. Let's just leave that open.
(Isn't he just impossibly cute?) Yes, his mother cried. Yes, I cried. I had such a big jumble of emotions inside me, I had to sit down on a bench for a couple of minutes.
Never, ever, did I expect to still be living on this day. And yet here I am, with 35 years of db under my belt. I work and support myself. I am a valued friend and family member, and contribute to my community. At present I have nothing to be p-ssed off about. Except the years that db stole from me. Or, were they the years I willingly gave away?
I remember the day that L was born. My sister called me at work, and after I hung up the phone I went into the supply room and cried among the sticky notes and rubber bands. Not tears of joy, but tears of rage because I mostly likely wouldn't be around to see this little boy enter first grade.
Their family lived about 4 hours north of here, so I saw L maybe 3 times a year. Sure, I sent birthday cards and Xmas gifts, but, I kept my distance because I didn't want him to know and love an auntie who dropped dead in her 30's. (Yeah, I know. Makes no sense to me now).
It wasn't until he came to Minneapolis to start college that I let down my defenses. I invited him to lunch. He had initially intended on becoming a pharmacist so it was no problem for me to test my blood in front of him. Each time we got together, our visits became more intimate and all the years of distance dropped away. I know that he and I talked about things that he was not willing to discuss with his parents. And I'm thankful he felt confident to share these issues with me.
So, off he is going to his first job as an actuary at the State Farm Insurance headuarters in Bloomington Illinois. And, I'm full expecting to be around to dance at his wedding. Yes, it's a strange feeling. But I'm okay with that.
Heck, why not really tempt fate and fully expect to be around to dance at this little gal's wedding?
No her mother did not forget to wash her face. E had been to a birthday party with a lady bug theme. Hence and red and black dots.
John Lennon said that "life is what happens when you're making other plans". Well, I guess I was planning to die. And now I'm planning to live. Don't know for how long. Let's just leave that open.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Ipod Shuffle
My favorite fun thing, the Ipod Shuffle, is once again circulating on the OC. I consider music to be a primary healing force in my life. So, then, why couldn't I find my Ipod? I have no idea where it is, but I did find what I think is the charger.........I took these 20 off my ITunes shuffle (and now that i've gotten going, will be playing tunes for the rest of the evening).
1) Purple Rain - Prince
2) Farther On - Jackson Browne
3) Midnight Rider - Willie Nelson
4) The Very Thought of You- Natalie Cole
5) Amelia - Joni Mitchell
6) Life in the Fast Lane - The Eagles
7) Tenderness - Stppenwolf
8) Fortune Teller - Robert Plant and Allison Krauss
9) How Can One Woman Be So Mean - Buddy Guy and Junior Wells
10) Smile - Tony Bennett
11) Carnival Town - Norah Jones
12) Travelin' Band - Creedence Clearwater Revival
13) I Want to Satisfy You - Leon Russell
14) Harvest - Neil Young
15) Brownsville Girl - Bob Dylan
16) Crazy Love - Cassandra Wilson
17) Sweet Baby James - James Taylor
18) Raining in My Soul - Guy Davis
19) A Case of You - Diane Krall
20) Somewhere Down the Crazy River - Robbie Robertson
Ok, so I'm old.
As far as rock videos go, I always watch this when I'm feeling low on energy - watch these guys rock the blazes out of an old hit
1) Purple Rain - Prince
2) Farther On - Jackson Browne
3) Midnight Rider - Willie Nelson
4) The Very Thought of You- Natalie Cole
5) Amelia - Joni Mitchell
6) Life in the Fast Lane - The Eagles
7) Tenderness - Stppenwolf
8) Fortune Teller - Robert Plant and Allison Krauss
9) How Can One Woman Be So Mean - Buddy Guy and Junior Wells
10) Smile - Tony Bennett
11) Carnival Town - Norah Jones
12) Travelin' Band - Creedence Clearwater Revival
13) I Want to Satisfy You - Leon Russell
14) Harvest - Neil Young
15) Brownsville Girl - Bob Dylan
16) Crazy Love - Cassandra Wilson
17) Sweet Baby James - James Taylor
18) Raining in My Soul - Guy Davis
19) A Case of You - Diane Krall
20) Somewhere Down the Crazy River - Robbie Robertson
Ok, so I'm old.
As far as rock videos go, I always watch this when I'm feeling low on energy - watch these guys rock the blazes out of an old hit
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Sprouting in the Dark
Last Christmas I received a flower bulb kit from one of my nephews.
I forgot about it until a couple of weeks ago when I was thinking about spring clothes and discovered it in the corner of my closet. I thought that the bulb was perhaps dead from not being tended to. I had to look twice when I opened the box, for there it was, sprouting and with green shoots coming out the top - in the dark! Mercy.
I put it into soil and the perfect spot on my windowsill. And here is what we have today.
Gosh, neglected, discarded and still the potential to bloom. I know, of course, that bulbs represent the dormant/resting stage of a plant. But still, this seemed like a miracle.
In March I passed over the 35 year mark of having diabetes. It still floors me. I took it for granted that I wouldn't make it much past 20 and was absolutely certain that I'd be dead before I reached the 25 year anniversary. ..........sigh.........and here I remain today. Since I started blogging, I wonder if things would have been different in the early years had I had an online community to talk with. After all, the only examples of pwd's were my relatives, most of them suffering from debilitating complications. I didn't know anybody who was living well with db. I only knew that at family gatherings the conversation would stop when one "of us" walked into the room. And then there'd be the hushed commentat that she "takes those shots too". My small town family practitioner knew nothing, and that was not his fault. When I was in the hospital he just kept increasing my single dose of NPH until the fasting glucose the next morning was within range. Sheesh - how did any of us survive?
I believe it is because life, all living things, have within them the greatest of potential for survival, just like the bulb in my closet. I believe that it's never too late for good control, and I believe that the possibility for renewal and healing are always close at hand. Sure, I gave up on myself many many times. But by grace or fate or fortune, was always able to rise back to the surface.
Spring has arrived here in Minnesota. The snow is gone, the sidewalks are dry and the trees will soon be showing new growth. Tomorrow I will wake up to a handful of oral meds, needles, lancets and the certain assurance that I'm still happy to be here.
I forgot about it until a couple of weeks ago when I was thinking about spring clothes and discovered it in the corner of my closet. I thought that the bulb was perhaps dead from not being tended to. I had to look twice when I opened the box, for there it was, sprouting and with green shoots coming out the top - in the dark! Mercy.
I put it into soil and the perfect spot on my windowsill. And here is what we have today.
Gosh, neglected, discarded and still the potential to bloom. I know, of course, that bulbs represent the dormant/resting stage of a plant. But still, this seemed like a miracle.
In March I passed over the 35 year mark of having diabetes. It still floors me. I took it for granted that I wouldn't make it much past 20 and was absolutely certain that I'd be dead before I reached the 25 year anniversary. ..........sigh.........and here I remain today. Since I started blogging, I wonder if things would have been different in the early years had I had an online community to talk with. After all, the only examples of pwd's were my relatives, most of them suffering from debilitating complications. I didn't know anybody who was living well with db. I only knew that at family gatherings the conversation would stop when one "of us" walked into the room. And then there'd be the hushed commentat that she "takes those shots too". My small town family practitioner knew nothing, and that was not his fault. When I was in the hospital he just kept increasing my single dose of NPH until the fasting glucose the next morning was within range. Sheesh - how did any of us survive?
I believe it is because life, all living things, have within them the greatest of potential for survival, just like the bulb in my closet. I believe that it's never too late for good control, and I believe that the possibility for renewal and healing are always close at hand. Sure, I gave up on myself many many times. But by grace or fate or fortune, was always able to rise back to the surface.
Spring has arrived here in Minnesota. The snow is gone, the sidewalks are dry and the trees will soon be showing new growth. Tomorrow I will wake up to a handful of oral meds, needles, lancets and the certain assurance that I'm still happy to be here.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Test Strips MIA
I sure hope I don't have to write too many more posts about the mail order pharmacy. This is getting irksome.....
In mid-January I had my primary fax them a prescription for test strips - 8 per day. I checked my account online that evening and it said "processing order". A week later it was still processing, and a week later as well. I called and the woman said she'd have to do some research. 3 days later I found out that under my new plan, the max that are covered are 6 per day, and since mine was for 8, they had "put it aside". Put it aside? Give me a break.
I squawked a bit and a supervisor said that since it was their error, they would overnight me the supply. I explained that there would be no one home to sign for it, but standard mail would be just fine. No problem.
Two weeks later, still no strips. I had a great day off for President's Day, and upon coming home in the afternoon noticed a cardboard box laying on the sidewalk near the door to my building. I picked it up to take to the trash, and, guess who it was addressed to? Why me!
Yes indeed, inside were 6 boxes of One Touch Strips, along with a large bottle of what turned out to be anti-seizure medication (which I've never taken).
Fortunately it was a warm day - about 30 degrees. I made a quick call to One Touch and they said it was okay if the strips had sat outside for a couple hours. Just don't use them until they've warmed up.
I was telling my neighbor about this and he said "great - you can say you never got the order and then have a bunch extra for free"
Why not? I sort of liked the idea and scrambled to come up with moral and rational reasons to do this:
1) I have had db for 35 years and deserve a break
2) Express Scripts is a huge profitable company and can esaily absorb the loss
3) I didn't ask for this to happen. It's UPS' fault
4) Had the timing been different, somebody else would have come along, opened the box and then tossed it
5) It would be really nice to have an extra suppply as a cushion - for sick days and such
6) Because I had not signed for the pacakage, it would be impossible to prove that I'd received it
I was still pondering the swhen a couple of distractions put it aside. The next day at work, ES called to see if I'd gotten the package. I reluctantly said yes, and added, for drama, that it was laying in the street. The woman said "well, once it's been turned over to UPS, it's out of our hands". Gee, lady. Thanks a lot.
I am not a model citizen. I smuggle pop into the movies. I have gone fishing without a license and exceeded the speed limit. I have stolen driftwood from a state park.
If the same think happens again, there is every chance that I'd respond differently. But sometimes it's just easier to tell the truth.
In mid-January I had my primary fax them a prescription for test strips - 8 per day. I checked my account online that evening and it said "processing order". A week later it was still processing, and a week later as well. I called and the woman said she'd have to do some research. 3 days later I found out that under my new plan, the max that are covered are 6 per day, and since mine was for 8, they had "put it aside". Put it aside? Give me a break.
I squawked a bit and a supervisor said that since it was their error, they would overnight me the supply. I explained that there would be no one home to sign for it, but standard mail would be just fine. No problem.
Two weeks later, still no strips. I had a great day off for President's Day, and upon coming home in the afternoon noticed a cardboard box laying on the sidewalk near the door to my building. I picked it up to take to the trash, and, guess who it was addressed to? Why me!
Yes indeed, inside were 6 boxes of One Touch Strips, along with a large bottle of what turned out to be anti-seizure medication (which I've never taken).
Fortunately it was a warm day - about 30 degrees. I made a quick call to One Touch and they said it was okay if the strips had sat outside for a couple hours. Just don't use them until they've warmed up.
I was telling my neighbor about this and he said "great - you can say you never got the order and then have a bunch extra for free"
Why not? I sort of liked the idea and scrambled to come up with moral and rational reasons to do this:
1) I have had db for 35 years and deserve a break
2) Express Scripts is a huge profitable company and can esaily absorb the loss
3) I didn't ask for this to happen. It's UPS' fault
4) Had the timing been different, somebody else would have come along, opened the box and then tossed it
5) It would be really nice to have an extra suppply as a cushion - for sick days and such
6) Because I had not signed for the pacakage, it would be impossible to prove that I'd received it
I was still pondering the swhen a couple of distractions put it aside. The next day at work, ES called to see if I'd gotten the package. I reluctantly said yes, and added, for drama, that it was laying in the street. The woman said "well, once it's been turned over to UPS, it's out of our hands". Gee, lady. Thanks a lot.
I am not a model citizen. I smuggle pop into the movies. I have gone fishing without a license and exceeded the speed limit. I have stolen driftwood from a state park.
If the same think happens again, there is every chance that I'd respond differently. But sometimes it's just easier to tell the truth.
Monday, January 26, 2009
The Mail Order Pharmacy
In 2009 my wonderful HMO was dropped by my employer. We switched to Empire Blue Cross and a mailorder pharmacy which shall remain nameless. Last year my insulin co-payment was $15/vial and I could pick it up at a neighborhood drugstore 2 blocks away. This year it is $25/vial and has to come in the mail.
I began researching this back in November, when we were first notified. The conversations went something like this:
K: Hi, I'm going to be on your plan in '09 and have type 1 diabetes. How is the insuln shipped?
ES: How do you spell that?
K: Spell what?
ES: Whatever it is you wanted shipped.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Well, I knew this was going to be a long process. I found out that insulin is shipped overnight in cold packs.
2nd call.
K: Hi. I,m trying to get something figured out here - I take insulin and know that you ship it overnight. I work during the day and I cannot receive personal mail at work. Whar are my options?
ES: We can leave it with a neighbor.
K: All my neighbors work too.
ES: We can leave it by the door.
K: It was below zero here today.
ES: Then you might want to be careful it doesn't freeze.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The next day I speak with my boss, who says that due to security regulations, I cannot receive personal mail at work. Maybe I should rent a mailbox.
Closest PO Boxes are 22 blocks away. Hmmmmmmm. don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcry
A few days later I enlist the help of our company's Health Care Advocate. She says don't call ES at night as they are losers. We'll call during the day and ask to speak with a supervisor. I secretively dash into a private office at lunch and the advocate and I call, get put on hold, and soom I must return to my desk.
The next day I'm walking home from the bus and have a revelation as I go past the Fed Ex/Kinkos store in my neighborhood - maybe it could be sent there and they could hold it for me? Go in and ask the manager, who looks like he's about 12. "oh, I've never heard of that - I don't know if we can or not".
3 days later, stop in when there is a more "official" looking person behind the counter. "Sure, we do it all the time. Just have it set to youself, care of us - you can track it onlne and the day it's delivered stop by and pick it up." Whew. Problem Solved.
Call ES.
K:I would like to have my insulin shipped and held for pick up at a Fed Ex location - is that okay
ES: Well, we can't guarantee that.
E: Why not?
ES: Sometimes that doesn't work. I think you'll have to speak with the pharmacist, but they're not here at this time of night. We let them be home with their families.
K; What is a pharmacist going to be able to tell me about shipping?
ES: Just call tomorrow during regular hours.
===================================================================================
Me and the advocate call ES during the day and ask for a supervisor.
"Sure, we've done that before - just look your account up online, get the tracking number, and watch to see when it's been delivered to the store. Should work just fine?.
Well. I feel about 60% confident that this will work. One of my co-workers just told me today that they got 24 month's worth of her husband's migraine meds, when they were supposed to get 3. Luckly they were only charged for 3.
DB sure teaches us various aspects of problem solving. I feel sort of smug that I figured this out, and majorily pissed off hat I had to do it myself.
I began researching this back in November, when we were first notified. The conversations went something like this:
K: Hi, I'm going to be on your plan in '09 and have type 1 diabetes. How is the insuln shipped?
ES: How do you spell that?
K: Spell what?
ES: Whatever it is you wanted shipped.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Well, I knew this was going to be a long process. I found out that insulin is shipped overnight in cold packs.
2nd call.
K: Hi. I,m trying to get something figured out here - I take insulin and know that you ship it overnight. I work during the day and I cannot receive personal mail at work. Whar are my options?
ES: We can leave it with a neighbor.
K: All my neighbors work too.
ES: We can leave it by the door.
K: It was below zero here today.
ES: Then you might want to be careful it doesn't freeze.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The next day I speak with my boss, who says that due to security regulations, I cannot receive personal mail at work. Maybe I should rent a mailbox.
Closest PO Boxes are 22 blocks away. Hmmmmmmm. don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcry
A few days later I enlist the help of our company's Health Care Advocate. She says don't call ES at night as they are losers. We'll call during the day and ask to speak with a supervisor. I secretively dash into a private office at lunch and the advocate and I call, get put on hold, and soom I must return to my desk.
The next day I'm walking home from the bus and have a revelation as I go past the Fed Ex/Kinkos store in my neighborhood - maybe it could be sent there and they could hold it for me? Go in and ask the manager, who looks like he's about 12. "oh, I've never heard of that - I don't know if we can or not".
3 days later, stop in when there is a more "official" looking person behind the counter. "Sure, we do it all the time. Just have it set to youself, care of us - you can track it onlne and the day it's delivered stop by and pick it up." Whew. Problem Solved.
Call ES.
K:I would like to have my insulin shipped and held for pick up at a Fed Ex location - is that okay
ES: Well, we can't guarantee that.
E: Why not?
ES: Sometimes that doesn't work. I think you'll have to speak with the pharmacist, but they're not here at this time of night. We let them be home with their families.
K; What is a pharmacist going to be able to tell me about shipping?
ES: Just call tomorrow during regular hours.
===================================================================================
Me and the advocate call ES during the day and ask for a supervisor.
"Sure, we've done that before - just look your account up online, get the tracking number, and watch to see when it's been delivered to the store. Should work just fine?.
Well. I feel about 60% confident that this will work. One of my co-workers just told me today that they got 24 month's worth of her husband's migraine meds, when they were supposed to get 3. Luckly they were only charged for 3.
DB sure teaches us various aspects of problem solving. I feel sort of smug that I figured this out, and majorily pissed off hat I had to do it myself.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Practice Vlog
I have been very curious about putting up a video here. (Up until last week I didn't even know how to take videos with my camera.) Becoming a blogger has taught me a lot of things, aside from those related to db. Cool.
This was taken last weekend, when we went to visit my mom in a smalltown west of Minneapolis.
This was taken last weekend, when we went to visit my mom in a smalltown west of Minneapolis.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
The Winter of my Frozen Face
I have enjoyed reading everybody's recaps of the closing year and hopes for '09.
My holidays were reasonably nice - quiet, simple and stressfree - just the way I like it. I thought that I was cruisin' along quite balanced, until a clerk said a bright "happy new year" to me on Friday and I burst into tears. Yes, it startled me too.
Annual holidays always bring many thoughts of fear into my mindset. A lot can happen in a year. A lot can go wrong with diabetes in a year. Fear shouts to me, "where will you be a year from now, Kathy? - Think of all those decades that you did't take care of yourself. They're bound to catch up with you, sooner or later."
For whatever reason, my image of fear is a Humphrey Bogart man, dressed in a shabby trenchcoat, fedora hat, smoking a cig and standing at the end of my sidewalk, sneering. In the recent years, I have developed some pretty good skills to ignore him. So he comes - let him stand there as long as he wants. Just don't invite him in for tea and cookies. He will soon get tired and go pester someone else.
This winter we've so far had 13 days where the temperature has dipped below zero. Last winter, our total was 3. A co-worker and I were talking about this and she remarked that it's harder to deal with knowing that we've got at least 2 months remaining. It would be a lot easier to tolerate if the end was in sight.
Well, the end is never in sight with db, and that's what's been difficult these last days.
So, in the meantime, we all do what we can. I put on my fancy high-tech face mask (designed so that your glasses don't fog up).
And, if necessary, my Mary Poppins hat.
No, there isn't much of a smile under there, but a certain satisfaction in the fact that I know I'll be comfortable at the bus stop.
And, there is also a satisfaction in knowing that if I do all that I can to take care of the db, then I will probably be here a year from now. Maybe with some amazing adventures to look back on.
Happy New Year to all my friends. May you be served with peace, joy, and fulfillment in 2009!
My holidays were reasonably nice - quiet, simple and stressfree - just the way I like it. I thought that I was cruisin' along quite balanced, until a clerk said a bright "happy new year" to me on Friday and I burst into tears. Yes, it startled me too.
Annual holidays always bring many thoughts of fear into my mindset. A lot can happen in a year. A lot can go wrong with diabetes in a year. Fear shouts to me, "where will you be a year from now, Kathy? - Think of all those decades that you did't take care of yourself. They're bound to catch up with you, sooner or later."
For whatever reason, my image of fear is a Humphrey Bogart man, dressed in a shabby trenchcoat, fedora hat, smoking a cig and standing at the end of my sidewalk, sneering. In the recent years, I have developed some pretty good skills to ignore him. So he comes - let him stand there as long as he wants. Just don't invite him in for tea and cookies. He will soon get tired and go pester someone else.
This winter we've so far had 13 days where the temperature has dipped below zero. Last winter, our total was 3. A co-worker and I were talking about this and she remarked that it's harder to deal with knowing that we've got at least 2 months remaining. It would be a lot easier to tolerate if the end was in sight.
Well, the end is never in sight with db, and that's what's been difficult these last days.
So, in the meantime, we all do what we can. I put on my fancy high-tech face mask (designed so that your glasses don't fog up).
And, if necessary, my Mary Poppins hat.
No, there isn't much of a smile under there, but a certain satisfaction in the fact that I know I'll be comfortable at the bus stop.
And, there is also a satisfaction in knowing that if I do all that I can to take care of the db, then I will probably be here a year from now. Maybe with some amazing adventures to look back on.
Happy New Year to all my friends. May you be served with peace, joy, and fulfillment in 2009!
Friday, December 05, 2008
Phase 2 Mittens
Shucks, winter is here. We are getting some heavy snow right now - that's Minnesota for you.
I am thankful that I have a big supply of warm clothes and accessories. Inluding my walk to the bus stop and then the wait, I can be out in the elements anywhere from 10-30 minutes. It's best to be prepared.
These are my Phase 1 gloves, from the Dollar Store. I always lose them so will buy 4 pairs at a time. Phase 1 weather is between 20-40 degrees.
Then we come to Phase 2, about 0-20 degrees. These are mittens I knit and the pattern called them "Traditional Latvian Mittens", but we all know that things change over time and continents. There is another wool mitten inside, but, they are really not as warm as they look.
And finally, when it's below zero, we have to call on the big guys. The Phase 3's are lined with goosedown. I ordered them from Canada 10 years ago and guard them with my life. See that big diagonal ridge? That's where the down has lumped up, but if I put them in the dryer on low, the lump will disappear.
Today was a Phase 2 day. As I was getting ready to get off the bus, the woman next to me said, "oh, are those the mittens with that insulin from 3M"? Obviously she meant
Thinsulate, a synthetic product made to add warmth to outdoor clothing. I told her no, they weren't, but I had some insulin in my purse. She replied, "well, that's good - you can't go wrong with a nice warm handbag".
No, I guess you can't.
I am thankful that I have a big supply of warm clothes and accessories. Inluding my walk to the bus stop and then the wait, I can be out in the elements anywhere from 10-30 minutes. It's best to be prepared.
These are my Phase 1 gloves, from the Dollar Store. I always lose them so will buy 4 pairs at a time. Phase 1 weather is between 20-40 degrees.
Then we come to Phase 2, about 0-20 degrees. These are mittens I knit and the pattern called them "Traditional Latvian Mittens", but we all know that things change over time and continents. There is another wool mitten inside, but, they are really not as warm as they look.
And finally, when it's below zero, we have to call on the big guys. The Phase 3's are lined with goosedown. I ordered them from Canada 10 years ago and guard them with my life. See that big diagonal ridge? That's where the down has lumped up, but if I put them in the dryer on low, the lump will disappear.
Today was a Phase 2 day. As I was getting ready to get off the bus, the woman next to me said, "oh, are those the mittens with that insulin from 3M"? Obviously she meant
Thinsulate, a synthetic product made to add warmth to outdoor clothing. I told her no, they weren't, but I had some insulin in my purse. She replied, "well, that's good - you can't go wrong with a nice warm handbag".
No, I guess you can't.
Saturday, November 08, 2008
D Blog Day - Convenience
I am in a bad mood. And, like a lot of people, it's about money.
A couple of weeks ago my '99 Honda Civic, Phoebe, began having some problems. Hondas are good cars, but the older ones are vulnerable to headgasket problems, which are expensive to fix. I was looking at a bill of close to $4000, which was a lot, but I thought I could swing it.
That same week, we were told at work that there would be a 10% paycut, begining in '09. We also had 2 lay-offs in my office, leaving the rest of the staff feeling irritable and anxious. Then we got our benefits info for '09. My HMO was no longer offered. I will be switching to Blue Cross and my cost per pay period will rise from $58 to $125. I currently am paying nothing for test strips, but next year will have a 10% co-payment. I also pay nothing for lab tests, but next year another 10% co-payment. All of these 10%s can add up to a lot of dough. Some of the younger people with good health are choosing to not have insurance at all. I cannot take that risk.
I am giving up the car. At least for now. Minneapolis has a reasonable public transportation system, and I am already taking the bus to work. I won't have to shovel it out for snow emergencies, or worry about it starting after a stretch of below-zero weather. I have lots of warm clothes and the extra walking will do me good.
I can clearly feel myself blaming the diabetes for this. It is convenient to blame the db for everything that goes wrong in my life.............
I am getting old and don't like it...blame the diabetes.
I think I saw a strand of grey hair ...blame the diabetes.
I am no longer comfortable wearing high heels all day and feel like a frumpy school marm in flat shoes ...blame the diabetes.
My dvd player is broken.. blame the diabetes
My neighborhood is no longer quiet and quaint...blame th ediabetes
Winter is coming to Minnesota...blame the diabetes.
Last weekend I was out doing errands. It was cold and gray. Then, I came upon this (and fortunately had my camera):
We had already had a hard freeze, yet still these little guys were showing themselves, magnificent against the shriveling brown vines. And, my favorite shades of blue. Now, had I been driving in my car, I would have missed out on this blatant message that there is goodness and beauty around us - just keep your eyes open.
This next year I'm going to try to put the db into it proper place in my life - and shoot, I don't know what that might be. Too much focus and I am preoccupied and overwhelmed and conveniently dump all of my discontent into the db box; too little focus and I feel unwell and my life is shortened. DB is just one of many threads woven into the structure that we use to define ourselves. And I need to decide where it fits in.
Happy D Blog Day to all of my precious friends. You're the best!
A couple of weeks ago my '99 Honda Civic, Phoebe, began having some problems. Hondas are good cars, but the older ones are vulnerable to headgasket problems, which are expensive to fix. I was looking at a bill of close to $4000, which was a lot, but I thought I could swing it.
That same week, we were told at work that there would be a 10% paycut, begining in '09. We also had 2 lay-offs in my office, leaving the rest of the staff feeling irritable and anxious. Then we got our benefits info for '09. My HMO was no longer offered. I will be switching to Blue Cross and my cost per pay period will rise from $58 to $125. I currently am paying nothing for test strips, but next year will have a 10% co-payment. I also pay nothing for lab tests, but next year another 10% co-payment. All of these 10%s can add up to a lot of dough. Some of the younger people with good health are choosing to not have insurance at all. I cannot take that risk.
I am giving up the car. At least for now. Minneapolis has a reasonable public transportation system, and I am already taking the bus to work. I won't have to shovel it out for snow emergencies, or worry about it starting after a stretch of below-zero weather. I have lots of warm clothes and the extra walking will do me good.
I can clearly feel myself blaming the diabetes for this. It is convenient to blame the db for everything that goes wrong in my life.............
I am getting old and don't like it...blame the diabetes.
I think I saw a strand of grey hair ...blame the diabetes.
I am no longer comfortable wearing high heels all day and feel like a frumpy school marm in flat shoes ...blame the diabetes.
My dvd player is broken.. blame the diabetes
My neighborhood is no longer quiet and quaint...blame th ediabetes
Winter is coming to Minnesota...blame the diabetes.
Last weekend I was out doing errands. It was cold and gray. Then, I came upon this (and fortunately had my camera):
We had already had a hard freeze, yet still these little guys were showing themselves, magnificent against the shriveling brown vines. And, my favorite shades of blue. Now, had I been driving in my car, I would have missed out on this blatant message that there is goodness and beauty around us - just keep your eyes open.
This next year I'm going to try to put the db into it proper place in my life - and shoot, I don't know what that might be. Too much focus and I am preoccupied and overwhelmed and conveniently dump all of my discontent into the db box; too little focus and I feel unwell and my life is shortened. DB is just one of many threads woven into the structure that we use to define ourselves. And I need to decide where it fits in.
Happy D Blog Day to all of my precious friends. You're the best!
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Walking on Eggshells
This last weekend, my sister F and niece Emily made the 70 mile drive to central Minnesota to look in on my mother. We'd received a call from assisted living that she was coughing a lot and also very tired.
We took her to the dr, who said that she "perhaps" had pneumonia. They couldn't tell by a chest x-ray because there was too much scar tissue from the emphysema, nor could he tell by listening to her lungs. I said "pneumonia is very serious in someone with existing lung problems, right?" He then muttered that we should hope that it was pneumonia, which could be treated. Worsening emphysema cannot - one just progresses further down the tunnel of poor health. My M does not have much of a margin left before her quality of life is totally hosed.
So, it was not a happy visit. On the way home, Em and I were sitting in the backseat, playing travel bingo and working on learning some old Beatle songs. I took out my meter and lanced my finger. Em said, "wow - is that blood?". I told her that yes, it was blood, and that I was going to put it on a little piece of plastic and then a number would show up on the screen. We waited and looked at the number. I told her that the number tells me what to do next to take care of myself.
A few minutes later we pulled into a gas station and F turned around and shouted "don't you ever do that again - Emily is traumatized". Well, that was news to me. Em was singing "Good Day Sunshine" somewhat offkey but with a lot of gusto.
In truth, it was F that does not want to be reminded that I have db. She was very close to one of my cousins that died from it a couple of years ago. None of my immediate family has ever seen me take an injection, and I've always discreetly treated my hypos. It's a lot to keep up with. But no, I musn't upset anybody.
When we got back to my place they both came in to try on a sweater that I'm knitting for Em. F was in the kitchen and saw a piece of paper on my frig. Plain and simple, it is a list of all my meds and db stuff that I need to pack when we go home for my M's final days and/or funeral. F knew that and then again blew up. "You've already got her dead and in the grave - how can you think like that?" I calmly told her that the list had been written 9 months ago. I took it and moved it to the side of the fridge.
F is a high strung person, and my M's illness has been difficult for her. She refuses to talk about the funeral when M brings it up, but, I have. I don't know how to handle these episodes but to keep my mouth shut and not stir the pot.
I've talked to my friend Elise about it and told her that I was willing to make the compromise so that I could be a part of Emily's life. She said, "but there's no compromise involved. You are letting F dictate all your actions - she is not giving up anything". Hmmmm.
Well, hopefully she's cooled down. I'm tired of tiptoeing, and need to take the stage front and center, with everything that belongs to me. DB and ailing mother included.
We took her to the dr, who said that she "perhaps" had pneumonia. They couldn't tell by a chest x-ray because there was too much scar tissue from the emphysema, nor could he tell by listening to her lungs. I said "pneumonia is very serious in someone with existing lung problems, right?" He then muttered that we should hope that it was pneumonia, which could be treated. Worsening emphysema cannot - one just progresses further down the tunnel of poor health. My M does not have much of a margin left before her quality of life is totally hosed.
So, it was not a happy visit. On the way home, Em and I were sitting in the backseat, playing travel bingo and working on learning some old Beatle songs. I took out my meter and lanced my finger. Em said, "wow - is that blood?". I told her that yes, it was blood, and that I was going to put it on a little piece of plastic and then a number would show up on the screen. We waited and looked at the number. I told her that the number tells me what to do next to take care of myself.
A few minutes later we pulled into a gas station and F turned around and shouted "don't you ever do that again - Emily is traumatized". Well, that was news to me. Em was singing "Good Day Sunshine" somewhat offkey but with a lot of gusto.
In truth, it was F that does not want to be reminded that I have db. She was very close to one of my cousins that died from it a couple of years ago. None of my immediate family has ever seen me take an injection, and I've always discreetly treated my hypos. It's a lot to keep up with. But no, I musn't upset anybody.
When we got back to my place they both came in to try on a sweater that I'm knitting for Em. F was in the kitchen and saw a piece of paper on my frig. Plain and simple, it is a list of all my meds and db stuff that I need to pack when we go home for my M's final days and/or funeral. F knew that and then again blew up. "You've already got her dead and in the grave - how can you think like that?" I calmly told her that the list had been written 9 months ago. I took it and moved it to the side of the fridge.
F is a high strung person, and my M's illness has been difficult for her. She refuses to talk about the funeral when M brings it up, but, I have. I don't know how to handle these episodes but to keep my mouth shut and not stir the pot.
I've talked to my friend Elise about it and told her that I was willing to make the compromise so that I could be a part of Emily's life. She said, "but there's no compromise involved. You are letting F dictate all your actions - she is not giving up anything". Hmmmm.
Well, hopefully she's cooled down. I'm tired of tiptoeing, and need to take the stage front and center, with everything that belongs to me. DB and ailing mother included.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Complicated Fear
I have had two moments in my db career disrupted by a fear so acute that I felt like I was being devoured.
One was 12 years ago, when I tried Lantus and ended up with a "reaction" which put me in the hospital for 8 nights with symptoms of heart failure. That was a lot of time to think about death and disability. (My heart is fine.) The second was 6 years ago when I had emergency surgery for my detached retina and had to lie face down, not moving, for 7 days as it healed. The doc said the outcome could be anything from being able to recognized shapes to possible 20/60 vision. I recovered to 20/30 vision and remain one of his "best success stories".
I figure that at some point my luck will run out...................and thought I was at that point a month ago.
I'd had a high fever for a couple of days with no other symptoms. I went to Urgent Care and the doc was mystified. She kept going down the list and said in addition to a chest x-ray they would do a urinalysis to see if anything showed signs of infection.
After a long wait back in the exam room, the doc came in and asked if I had kidney disease. I told her no, and that my last a/c ratio (albumin/creatinine ratio) was normal and that had been done 4 months ago. I told her that I had some urine spillage about 6 years ago that subsided after I started on an ace inhibitor. She explained that I had a "huge amount" of protein in my urine and I interuppted and said "well, that could be due to an infection, right" and she then said there were no other factors which indicated an infection and that this was probably "acute onset diabetic nephropathy".
Oh. My.
I got home and my inner monologue was something like this - "....ok, ok.........so my kidney's might be failing.......maybe it's early in the process....... maybe I've lived long enough.........maybe I'll die and then not have to deal with all this crud anymore........". One of my relatives had just been taken off
the kidney/pancreas transplant list because his condition had weakened to the point where he would not survive the surgery.
The next morning I called my pcp's office and asked that the doc review the notes and call me back. The nurse phoned back in 20 minutes and said "the dr. wants to see you immediately - you need to come in today - we'll make room for you". Gulp. By then I was in that robot-like numbness where I send myself when things get too scary.
Dr. Steve came in the room and said that yes, this was a problem and needed to be addressed. We'd start with a 24 hour urine collection. Fortunately, the creatinine level in my blood was normal, but, it doesn't start to elevate until about half your kidney function is gone.
So I waited a few days to calm down and then did the collection. I brought the jug to the lab on July 17 and was told that my pcp would call me with the results, usually within a few days. The next week I jumped every time the phone rang at work and held my breath while listening to my messages at home. I made a couple of significant errors at work and was overtly mean to a couple of good friends. No news.
The next Monday, the 28th, I called the clinic and said I wanted the pcp to call me with the results. I was told he was on vacation. I asked to speak with his nurse and no, only the doc can give you the results. I asked to speak with whoever was covering for him but never got a call back.
I decided that I didn't care if I was dying or not - and conveniently erased the prior 3 weeks from my mind and stumbled about on auto-pilot.
Then, last Friday, August 15th, I got a letter from the doc. He wrote "Kathy, your kidneys look good. I don't know what the episode was about but presently there is nothing to indicate any damage or to be concerned about. See you in 3 months.".
Soooooooo.......I wasted a month of summer walking around like a zombie. I am too emotionally exhausted to be angry, and then, who would I be pissed off with? Maybe it was a lab error; maybe it was the body trying to tell me that I need to pull in the reins and improve my control; maybe it was a higher source reminding me that I am very lucky. Sigh..................
On a closing note, we have a lovely party last weekend for my mom's 81 birthday. She has had several major episodes of illness in the last 2 years and been in assisted living since February. Sometimes when I call her she is in la-la land. But, on the day of the celebration she was extremely good, as you can see on the picture. With her is my precious niece, Emily. Em came to be with our family just before her first birthday, and cracked open all of our hearts with the soft tap of one tiny finger...........sniffle, sniffle.
One was 12 years ago, when I tried Lantus and ended up with a "reaction" which put me in the hospital for 8 nights with symptoms of heart failure. That was a lot of time to think about death and disability. (My heart is fine.) The second was 6 years ago when I had emergency surgery for my detached retina and had to lie face down, not moving, for 7 days as it healed. The doc said the outcome could be anything from being able to recognized shapes to possible 20/60 vision. I recovered to 20/30 vision and remain one of his "best success stories".
I figure that at some point my luck will run out...................and thought I was at that point a month ago.
I'd had a high fever for a couple of days with no other symptoms. I went to Urgent Care and the doc was mystified. She kept going down the list and said in addition to a chest x-ray they would do a urinalysis to see if anything showed signs of infection.
After a long wait back in the exam room, the doc came in and asked if I had kidney disease. I told her no, and that my last a/c ratio (albumin/creatinine ratio) was normal and that had been done 4 months ago. I told her that I had some urine spillage about 6 years ago that subsided after I started on an ace inhibitor. She explained that I had a "huge amount" of protein in my urine and I interuppted and said "well, that could be due to an infection, right" and she then said there were no other factors which indicated an infection and that this was probably "acute onset diabetic nephropathy".
Oh. My.
I got home and my inner monologue was something like this - "....ok, ok.........so my kidney's might be failing.......maybe it's early in the process....... maybe I've lived long enough.........maybe I'll die and then not have to deal with all this crud anymore........". One of my relatives had just been taken off
the kidney/pancreas transplant list because his condition had weakened to the point where he would not survive the surgery.
The next morning I called my pcp's office and asked that the doc review the notes and call me back. The nurse phoned back in 20 minutes and said "the dr. wants to see you immediately - you need to come in today - we'll make room for you". Gulp. By then I was in that robot-like numbness where I send myself when things get too scary.
Dr. Steve came in the room and said that yes, this was a problem and needed to be addressed. We'd start with a 24 hour urine collection. Fortunately, the creatinine level in my blood was normal, but, it doesn't start to elevate until about half your kidney function is gone.
So I waited a few days to calm down and then did the collection. I brought the jug to the lab on July 17 and was told that my pcp would call me with the results, usually within a few days. The next week I jumped every time the phone rang at work and held my breath while listening to my messages at home. I made a couple of significant errors at work and was overtly mean to a couple of good friends. No news.
The next Monday, the 28th, I called the clinic and said I wanted the pcp to call me with the results. I was told he was on vacation. I asked to speak with his nurse and no, only the doc can give you the results. I asked to speak with whoever was covering for him but never got a call back.
I decided that I didn't care if I was dying or not - and conveniently erased the prior 3 weeks from my mind and stumbled about on auto-pilot.
Then, last Friday, August 15th, I got a letter from the doc. He wrote "Kathy, your kidneys look good. I don't know what the episode was about but presently there is nothing to indicate any damage or to be concerned about. See you in 3 months.".
Soooooooo.......I wasted a month of summer walking around like a zombie. I am too emotionally exhausted to be angry, and then, who would I be pissed off with? Maybe it was a lab error; maybe it was the body trying to tell me that I need to pull in the reins and improve my control; maybe it was a higher source reminding me that I am very lucky. Sigh..................
On a closing note, we have a lovely party last weekend for my mom's 81 birthday. She has had several major episodes of illness in the last 2 years and been in assisted living since February. Sometimes when I call her she is in la-la land. But, on the day of the celebration she was extremely good, as you can see on the picture. With her is my precious niece, Emily. Em came to be with our family just before her first birthday, and cracked open all of our hearts with the soft tap of one tiny finger...........sniffle, sniffle.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Dr Steve
Dr. Steve is my primary care physician. Because I do not pump and do not have an A1C over 8, my insurance will pay for one endo visit per year. The others are with the pcp.
Last Tuesday I was at the clinic for cholesterol bloodwork. I got there at 7:30 and knew that I was crashing - the really bad crash where you sweat buckets. The phlebotomist came to get me and I stood up but did not follow her - just stood there. I was able to explain that I was T1 and low. She said, "oh, my aunt has diabetes and she takes Glucophage" (what's that got to do with the price of eggs?).
She asked me my date of birth and I couldn't remember. She asked me how old I was and I guess I answered correctly. Then she had to peel all the little labels off my sheet and carefully attach each one to a tube. Finally the blood was drawn and she brought me a can of juice which I gulped in one swig. "You're feeling better now, right?" I stumbled out to the reception area and fell into a chair.
I got up to Internal Medicine and sat in the exam room for 50 minutes. I do not like sitting in exam rooms - I get freaked out and my mind races about illness and death. The copy of Ardhitectural Digest was of no interest. The nurse came and took my bp and it was 135/75. That upset me more. Plus, I was exhausted from the hypo and my hair was flat and stringy from the sweat.
Dr. Steve came in looking quite frazzled. He said my LDL was 118, up from last time and that in pwd it should be less than 100. "Let's get started on Zocor right away."
I respond how I usually do - started crying. I was upset and then started spewing off how I felt like I was always a bunch of numbers on a piece of paper and no one at the clinic treated me like a person. Poor guy, he did not deserve this. I have been eating poorly -making very unwise choices, using my mother's illness as an excuse. I was not surprised at the higher reading.
I need to cut the doc a little slack. After all, the numbers on the paper give him the information to make the proper decisions for my care.
He left with the agreement that I would try a small dose at night for 6 weeks and then we'd retest and reevaluate. No biggie.
Patients who have a high bp reading must at the end of their appointment go into another room and have three more readings done at 5 minute intervals by a machine. By then I'd calmed down and the average was 116/68. Good.
Yesterday I got the letter from Dr. Steve with all my results on paper.
Note how he altered the salutation...............that meant a lot to me.
Last Tuesday I was at the clinic for cholesterol bloodwork. I got there at 7:30 and knew that I was crashing - the really bad crash where you sweat buckets. The phlebotomist came to get me and I stood up but did not follow her - just stood there. I was able to explain that I was T1 and low. She said, "oh, my aunt has diabetes and she takes Glucophage" (what's that got to do with the price of eggs?).
She asked me my date of birth and I couldn't remember. She asked me how old I was and I guess I answered correctly. Then she had to peel all the little labels off my sheet and carefully attach each one to a tube. Finally the blood was drawn and she brought me a can of juice which I gulped in one swig. "You're feeling better now, right?" I stumbled out to the reception area and fell into a chair.
I got up to Internal Medicine and sat in the exam room for 50 minutes. I do not like sitting in exam rooms - I get freaked out and my mind races about illness and death. The copy of Ardhitectural Digest was of no interest. The nurse came and took my bp and it was 135/75. That upset me more. Plus, I was exhausted from the hypo and my hair was flat and stringy from the sweat.
Dr. Steve came in looking quite frazzled. He said my LDL was 118, up from last time and that in pwd it should be less than 100. "Let's get started on Zocor right away."
I respond how I usually do - started crying. I was upset and then started spewing off how I felt like I was always a bunch of numbers on a piece of paper and no one at the clinic treated me like a person. Poor guy, he did not deserve this. I have been eating poorly -making very unwise choices, using my mother's illness as an excuse. I was not surprised at the higher reading.
I need to cut the doc a little slack. After all, the numbers on the paper give him the information to make the proper decisions for my care.
He left with the agreement that I would try a small dose at night for 6 weeks and then we'd retest and reevaluate. No biggie.
Patients who have a high bp reading must at the end of their appointment go into another room and have three more readings done at 5 minute intervals by a machine. By then I'd calmed down and the average was 116/68. Good.
Yesterday I got the letter from Dr. Steve with all my results on paper.
Note how he altered the salutation...............that meant a lot to me.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Don't Blame the Bagels
When things go wrong on the db front due to me ignoring the facts, it's very tempting to put the blame outside of myself. DB is so hard to live with. I hate it. Blah blah blah.....
I work in an office of 90 people. It is an unwritten tradition that people bring treats on their birthday. Usually it's bagels, because Brueggers is nearby and they deliver for free (!!)
If asked the question re which food really plays havoc with my bg, bagels are near the top of the list. Those dang bagels. They always cause me to spike. It's not fair.
But it isn't really the bagsl's fault. A standard Brueggers bagel has over 60 grams of carb. I did not realize this until 10 years ago when I was in the hospital and the dietician was discussing what I usually had for lunch. I told her I brought my lunch to work but on occasion I'd go and get a bagel sandwich. She told me that a B. bagel had four carb exchanges. Yikes.
I am very sensitive to carbs in the morning and sometimes even delay breakfast until about 9 a.m. My ins/carb ratio is 1/5 at the beginning of the day, but by evening I'm at 1/20. Thinking from a logical standpoint, there is no way that I'm going to come through 60 grams of cho at 7:30 a.m. withput a spike. Rapid acting insulin is great, but it can only do so much.
So this morning when we got the "treats in the lunchroom" e-mail, I had to consciously remind myself that a better choice would be to take 1/2 of a bagel and save it for later in the morning. It worked. And involved only a small compromise.. Hopefully I can practice this enough times for it to become automatic, minus the self-pity.
To the collective bagel community, I apologize for casting you as the villain. Please forgive me.
Happy Independence Day. Enjoy the long weekend, travel safely, and cherish the freedom and opportunity this country affords us.
I work in an office of 90 people. It is an unwritten tradition that people bring treats on their birthday. Usually it's bagels, because Brueggers is nearby and they deliver for free (!!)
If asked the question re which food really plays havoc with my bg, bagels are near the top of the list. Those dang bagels. They always cause me to spike. It's not fair.
But it isn't really the bagsl's fault. A standard Brueggers bagel has over 60 grams of carb. I did not realize this until 10 years ago when I was in the hospital and the dietician was discussing what I usually had for lunch. I told her I brought my lunch to work but on occasion I'd go and get a bagel sandwich. She told me that a B. bagel had four carb exchanges. Yikes.
I am very sensitive to carbs in the morning and sometimes even delay breakfast until about 9 a.m. My ins/carb ratio is 1/5 at the beginning of the day, but by evening I'm at 1/20. Thinking from a logical standpoint, there is no way that I'm going to come through 60 grams of cho at 7:30 a.m. withput a spike. Rapid acting insulin is great, but it can only do so much.
So this morning when we got the "treats in the lunchroom" e-mail, I had to consciously remind myself that a better choice would be to take 1/2 of a bagel and save it for later in the morning. It worked. And involved only a small compromise.. Hopefully I can practice this enough times for it to become automatic, minus the self-pity.
To the collective bagel community, I apologize for casting you as the villain. Please forgive me.
Happy Independence Day. Enjoy the long weekend, travel safely, and cherish the freedom and opportunity this country affords us.
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