Types 1, they know

The last week has been pretty rough. I’ve been really struggling with my blood sugars, and as I’m sure most of you are aware by now, I’m somewhat OCD when it comes to my BG averages; I like perfection. And for the most part, I’m pretty close to it, but every now again, my BG likes to rebel, take me on a roller coaster ride of extreme highs and serious lows for seemingly no reason whatsoever. Nothing has changed. I’m eating the same foods. My infusions appear to be okay. I don’t have a virus that I know of. But for some jerk-like reason my BG has decided to flip the middle finger up at me.

Previous times, I’ve suffered through it alone. Sure I had Mario and my family to rant about it to, and I had the specialists and the diabetic nurses and the pump manufacturers to send frantic, frustrated emails too, and while for the most part I got sympathetic ears, not one of them, not my husband, not my extended family, not my doctors, nurses or anyone else who came across my path during those raging times knew what I was going through. I always felt alone.

But thanks to this blog, I’ve had the luxury of building up my T1 support roster. And so a couple of days into this week’s roller coaster and the resulting stress which inevitably keeps the wheel turning, I fired off an email to fellow T1 chick Scully at Canadian D-Gal entitled Warning: mini vent inside.

I didn’t have to go into great detail about what was going on, I didn’t have to tell her my exact BG readings, didn’t have to disclose what I’d already checked, or what I’d already done, and I didn’t have to feel sheepish about my own rebellion with the whack load of ice cream I inhaled. All I pretty much had to say was F diabetes, and she knew.


Okay, so I am now totally in love with the phrase Boo Snickles!

And you know, when I got her email and the question about the whole monthly thing (sorry guys) it dawned on me that yes, that could very well be the reason for that jackassedness, which in itself is really stupid because it doesn’t happen every month, just sometimes, when it feels like it. Awesome. But yeah, if any of my family would have suggested that, I would have vehemently shook my head thinking No, no, no, you can’t possibly know a thing about what I’m going through so no, no, no you can’t possibly be right. But Scully, she knows. Type 1s, they know. And having some of them in my corner, well, I don’t feel so alone anymore.

So Diabetes, I will win this battle, I’ve got a force of fierce T1s behind me, and you, my longtime nemesis are going down. Who’s got the middle finger up now? Ha! Ha! Ha!

TONIGHT’S PILATES:

  • 5 p.m. BG before: 5.4
  • No temp. basal
  • Time: 1 hour of ab-sweating hell
  • 6:30 p.m. BG after: 5.1

Along with my nasty blood sugars, I’ve been pretty darn moody, which I’m thinking is a good sign it’s time to start lacing up my sneakers again and hitting the pavement. So, on the to-do list for this holiday weekend is to map out a training plan for the Tiffany’s half in October! Eeeeeeeeee!

Do you have plans for the long weekend?

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