Why I Should Be Allowed to Have Nice Things

Finally getting back into my routine habits after being on my death bed two days ago. (Figuratively.) This included a trip back to dance class and some exercise that I sorely needed to get the blood sugars back in check.

I almost didn’t make it.


Oooh… shiny.

Let’s start back at my endocrinology appointment yesterday. In addition to the non advice I received, I was also told that upgrading my pump for the shear need of experimenting with .5 and .25 insulin to carb ratios is unnecessary. No one is ever really affected by giving a .5 extra unit of insulin per carb, right? I conceded and said that I wouldn’t pursue getting a fancy new Revel because my current pump still has 2 years left on a 5 year warranty. And if I really wanted to try it, I could just do the half ratios manually. Maybe he was right and I was just making up excuses for the lack of control on the fact that I simply must have the latest pump model out there. (Even as I type this, that doesn’t make sense, medically.)

Well today was bad. It started off great with an 84 mg/dl and just went downhill from there. I’m pretty sure I fried my mini blender trying to process pineapple for a breakfast smoothie. Hated the smoothie after realizing how much fat was in it. Proceeded to eat a piece of toast to cover the insulin I had already administered for the smoothie I was no longer drinking. Stayed elevated all afternoon for no reason, other than I consumed more fat than I thought. (Another reason for me not to switch to paleo… I don’t think I could handle the high fat meals with my insulin resistance.) Debating my breakfast choices, I finally come down to a decent sugar around 1:00, only to be treated to a lunch of appetizers and wine. (Well, there goes my afternoon.)

I stop on the way home around 5:30 pm for gas. I’m 153 before I hit the road again. In another 10 minutes, I’m home and decide to correct for that 153. My dose is .3 units of insulin with some still on board. Fine. Obviously what I had on board wasn’t enough.

An hour later, I’m 97. We’re about to serve dinner. I convinced the hubs to cook quinoa instead of rice so I can enjoy “grains” without actually having them. Quinoa is perfectly measured according to calorieking.com. Bolus four units for dinner and eat. Half way through I’m not feeling right. My dinner insulin hasn’t even really started working yet, let alone finished coming out of the pump. I finish eating and check again. I’m now 58. WTF!?

I need to leave for class… 5 minutes ago. Now I have to treat a low with 4 units of insulin working against it. It was the first time ever that I had gotten three consecutive readings of the same (low) blood sugar. After three glasses of juice, some graham crackers, some cheese… I hit 81 and I’m safe to drive. (Or at least, if a cop were to pull me over, I can safely show that my last blood sugar said it was safe to drive.) I start class at 116. I end class at 181. Sigh. Rebounds.

So .5 units doesn’t really affect anyone huh? I guess .3 wouldn’t either, hmm?

I’m really hoping these last couple weeks don’t sincerely mess with my A1C too much. At this rate, I’m hoping for 6.5% or lower, just because it means I can hold this type of control for 6+ months. Though I’m going slightly crazy trying. Especially since it’ll all change whenever I end up pregnant.

On the bright side, I have a shit-ton of quinoa to enjoy at breakfast. That stuff doesn’t do jack to my blood sugars. Maybe I’ll try some quinoa oatmeal.

And then maybe I’ll fire my endocrinologist.


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