Just in time for the anniversary, my blood sugars decide to revolt against me – just as they did 24 years ago. Let’s take a walk down memory lane shall we.
It was on this date, my friends, that I was offered my last guilt-free, auntie home-baked Mennonite cookie (the best EVER home-baked cookies!) of which I regretfully declined. Hours later I was told no home-baked cookies for you ever again. Bastards! (The docs were a lot more strict back then.)
It was also my big sister’s 18th birthday. She’s now 42! Happy Birthday Jules, love you to pieces, and once again I apologize for ruining your birthday 24 years ago. But, in my defense, I was given a faulty pancreas, so really, it wasn’t my fault. Blame the dude upstairs for this one.
I remember early on counting the years following diagnosis, and counting down to when I was supposed to have a cure, to when I could stop poking my finger multiple times a day, stop pumping myself full of synthetic insulin, stop avoiding the sugar nazis. I got diabetes when I was nine, and was told that by the time I was 16, I would be a free child again, and then it was extended to my early 20s, and by the time they were telling me my 30s, I’d pretty much given up hope on a cure. I’m skeptical, jaded if you will, that I will ever see a cure in my lifetime. This disease, like many others, brings in way too much money, which is disturbing on so many levels, but frankly, reality.
I know I’m sounding bitter, and for the most part, I try not to be when it comes to my diabetes given that I’m kinda stuck with the disease and all, better make the best of it right. The last couple days, however, my glucometre has been spouting off higher than desired readings – ever since that bloody mojito! They’ve been hovering in the 10-13 range, once even surpassing 14! Quite the drastic surge from my desired 5.0 to 7.0 numbers.
After a full day and a half of high blood sugars, I started thinking maybe the mojito wasn’t fully to blame. (WARNING: a brief moment of ‘girl talk’ to come) I started counting back the days, trying to remember the last time I had that ‘monthly monster’ and discovered that yep, I may very well be encroaching on pre-monthly monster, which could be the cause of my current BG wars. Oh joy.
Without going into details, I contacted my big brother (a math genius!) for some mathematical support in changing my basal rate settings on my insulin pump. My friend Google suggested I increase my settings by 1/10ths of what they currently were. Are you kidding me? How the heck am I supposed to know what 1/10 of 0.650 is?
My big brother, bless his heart or wring his bloody neck, once again tried to give me a lesson in math. And you know, I got to say, for such a super smart guy, dubbed the golden child of the family, why he can’t grasp the fact I will never understand the math world, just boggles my mind. Seems simple to me really.
This is what I received in an email response from him after he gave me the numbers I required: FYI – when calculating tenths…..1 tenth = 0.10…2 tenths = 0.20…………..so, to calculate the above, 0.650 x 0.10 = 0.065 + 0.650 = 0.715.
He should seriously know by now that by putting that addendum at the END of the email AFTER already giving me the numbers I wanted, it’s pretty much ignored. Er, I mean, thanks for the math lesson big brother 😉
Here’s hoping the temporary settings and the premature changing of my infusion will help.