Category: Blood Sugar

An Ode to Log Books

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This was originally published on Hugging the Cactus on December 11, 2017. I’m sharing it again today because of all the outdated diabetes tools that I used to rely on, log books are something that I find myself wishing I still used, or at least kept to look back on, because they held me accountable. It’s funny how much that opinion contrasts with how I felt about them when I wrote this post! Read on for my full reflection…

Remember when log books were a THING that PWD used to track blood sugars?

Log books were pocket-size diaries (of a sort) designed for PWD to keep track of blood sugars, insulin and carb intake, mealtimes, etc. Basically, it was the old-fashioned way of recording blood sugars so that you could bring it with you to your endo appointments so your doctor could review the book for patterns.

I remember HATING having to write down my numbers. I felt like those little log books were contraptions put in place to judge me and my numbers. Imagine an eight year old who felt judged by something like that? It’s just wrong. But I get that they had a purpose to serve, and even when I was little, I knew it was important to write everything down even if I resented doing it.

That’s why I made it more fun by drawing doodles next to certain blood sugars – a frowning face would appear when I was high, and a mini burst of fireworks would find their way next to a blood sugar of 100 (which I now refer to as a unicorn bg, along with much of the rest of the DOC). I also distinctly remember using the log book to keep track of where I was injecting my insulin: “RL” would appear on the page if I was due to give a shot into my right leg, or “LA” for my left arm. These days, I’m really good about swapping sites, mainly because it’s easy to remember, thanks to my pods. But as a kid, it was more challenging, so writing it down helped.Thankful that my meter tracks my blood sugars for me now (also, that 230 mg/dL would’ve totally gotten a frown-y face back in the day).

Thank goodness for modern meters and insulin pumps that keep track of my blood sugars for me now. It’s so much easier to show up to an endo appointment and hand over my meter for the nurses to download. Plus, doing so means that my doctor and I get to review all sorts of colorful charts showing my blood sugars over a certain period of time, which is more telling and helpful than a doctor thumbing through my log book and murmuring, “I see,” every few moments.

Log books are such an archaic artifact of my diabetes history that I don’t even own any nowadays. I trashed them all, years ago, when I realized that my blood sugars from 2001 were sort of irrelevant to now. Do you still have any of your log books lying around?

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An A1c Achievement

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Since transitioning to the Omnipod 5 roughly 8 months ago (and obtaining a deeper understanding of how the algorithm works), I strongly suspected that I would be pleased by the results of my next A1c reading. What I did not expect that it would be my best reading in four years – maybe even longer than that, if only I could see my results dating further back!

While I’m not going to share the exact number here, for reasons I’ve written about in this past blog post, I am writing about this little victory of mine because I needed to take a moment and reflect on how far I’ve come in my diabetes journey. For many, many years, I rejected the notion of diabetes technology. I was stubbornly resistant to exploring it whatsoever, likely out of fear that the change would have negative consequences on my health or standards of living. While I wish I could go back in time and encourage my younger self to give it a chance or explain how it would benefit me, I’m just grateful for the fact that I did eventually come around to trying it and realizing how much it changed my diabetes care and management for the better.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still very much a proponent of time in range compared to A1c – and I’m thrilled to report that my time in range has also significantly improved since I switched to the 5. But for me, I can’t help but attach some extra value to my A1c, maybe because it was the standard measurement of diabetes “control” for most of my life with diabetes so far. So it feels really good and natural to celebrate my latest A1c achievement.

A Temporary Diabetes Cure

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I always envied people who experienced a diabetes “honeymoon” period. I used to think, how nice it must be to have some extra time to prepare for fulltime life with diabetes and not quite rely on insulin injections right off the bat! I also always assumed that, after 25 years living with diabetes, that the honeymoon phase had absolutely skipped over me, and I was positive I’d never get to experience it.

Turns out, my diabetes – that saucy little minx – likes to keep me on my toes as it recently surprised me with an abrupt 48-hour window of time in which it seemed like my diabetes was cured.

That’s the only way I can describe what transpired. It was the strangest thing. One day, I woke up, ate breakfast, and took insulin for it – just as I always do. Except instead of my blood sugar spiking or even leveling out after eating, it started to drop, which was strange because I ate a fairly typical meal that morning. At the time, I thought nothing of it and just ate some extra carbs before my blood sugar went too low.

No big deal, right? But this phenomenon happened again, following both my lunch and dinner. It was especially inconvenient in the evening, as I had a volleyball game and wanted my number to be up so I could play. I had some fruit snacks before the game to keep my levels up, but was surprised when even after that, I was dropping by the tail end of our third and final match. I remember being out on the court, trying to track the ball as my team bumped it back and forth over the net with the other team, knowing full well that my blood sugar was going low but feeling determined to stay in the game until it was over. The moment the final whistle blew, I ran to grab even more fruit snacks, and felt both annoyed and confused by the whole situation.

The following day, I decided I wasn’t going to mess around anymore. I wanted to cut my mealtime insulin doses in half to see if that helped me at all. It was a solid idea, but it didn’t prove to do much to help as I again dropped after breakfast and lunch. Okay, so clearly that course of action wasn’t enough. Maybe I could try switching from automated mode to manual on my Omnipod 5 PDM and put myself fully in control, rather than leaving it up to technology. I set a temp basal decrease to ensure I was getting very little basal insulin, and resolved to enjoy my pizza dinner that evening with friends.

Of course, pizza is notoriously difficult to bolus for, so I knew I’d have to do even more extra work in order to prevent my blood sugar from dipping. So not only did I take half the amount of insulin than normal, but I also did an extended bolus so that I wouldn’t get it all upfront. I ate two fairly large slices of pizza and also had a generous serving of chips that I technically didn’t include in my bolus calculations. So imagine my bewilderment when, 2-3 hours post-pizza, I was still going low. I poured myself a glass of regular soda, and it became my companion for the remainder of the evening. I’d take sips as I saw my graph report blood sugars that never went higher than 110, but fluctuated for the most part between 60 and 90.

It was wild, and I was actually getting pretty worried about the whole situation. I couldn’t make sense of it. I ran through all the variables that could’ve caused this to happen – was I wearing my pod in a strange site? Was it because of my period? Could it be due to my activity levels or changes in the weather? I weighed so many possibilities in my mind and came up with nothing definitive, so I went to my next best resource for input…the diabetes online community.

I asked around for input and was – as always – so grateful to the folks who reached out and served as thought partners with me. Based on what I learned, the most likely culprit is hormonal changes. In fact, perhaps it was a bit of a birthday gift from my diabetes as I ushered in a new age/phase in life. It’s still totally bizarre that it happened, but a friend reassured me of her own experiences with the same temporary phenomenon as she’s experienced menopausal shifts. So, maybe…just maybe this was the explanation I was looking for, and perhaps the whole thing happened to signify the start of my upcoming cycle.

I won’t ever know for certain if that was indeed the cause of my temporary reprieve from diabetes, but at least I can find a little comfort in knowing that I got through it (as my blood sugars and insulin needs bounced back with a vengeance the following day) and that I had the support and feedback from friends and strangers alike the whole time.

Flatbread Failure

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Any type of pizza, plus diabetes, usually equals one giant headache in terms of nailing a correct insulin dosage.

Nine times out of ten, my blood sugar ends up high in the hours following a pizza meal. This is a fairly common phenomenon for people with diabetes, because even though pizza contains high amounts of carbohydrates, it also contains a large amount of fat that ends up delaying the digestion of pizza – resulting in a belated blood sugar spike. My go-to workaround for this is to do an extended insulin bolus, meaning that I take part of my insulin dose at mealtime and my pump will deliver the remaining dose later on, but it can be tricky to nail the timing of it.

So imagine my surprise when, after enjoying an evening out with my boyfriend in which we split a very tasty flatbread pizza (half buffalo chicken, half brussels sprouts and bacon), my blood sugar didn’t spike even a little bit post-meal. In fact, it actually ended up tanking – so much so that over the course of 2 hours, I had to eat 3 packs of fruit snacks and a handful of leftover Easter candies in order to keep it from dropping too much.

My mind was blown. I had actually eaten more flatbread slices than I normally do during this meal – the two of us nearly demolished a large-size flatbread, which is quite a feat – and so I bolused for 60 grams of carbs, using the manual mode on my Omnipod 5 PDM to enable an extended bolus in which I gave myself half my insulin dose upfront with the remaining half to follow 1 hour later. I actually thought I was underestimating the total carbs I’d consumed, especially considering I had two cocktails with my meal. But nope, I had completely missed the mark on this one and paid the price as I did whatever I could to keep my blood sugar up in the hours before I planned to go to bed. You can see from my CGM graph below that this was a bit of a prolonged struggle, one that kept me up much later than I would’ve liked.

But, oh well. That’s just how it is with diabetes sometimes, and I remain optimistic that I can nail the pizza bolus next time. After all, I’ve done it before, so I can do it again. And this is the kind of bolus experiment that’s kind of enjoyable – any excuse to have some delicious pizza.

The Last Time I Cried About My Diabetes

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It was around 4 o’clock in the morning. Rain was pounding relentlessly outside my window. The power must’ve gone out, because flickering lights and the sudden sound of my heat turning back on woke me up with a start.

I tried to let the sound of the falling rain lull me back to sleep, but it was loud. I tossed and turned, doing my best to resist the temptation to check my phone and mindlessly scroll through various feeds until I felt sleepy again, but before long I gave in. As I almost always do every time I unlock my phone, I tapped on the Dexcom app so I could see what was going on with my blood sugar.

At that present moment, I was 92 and steady, but what my graph indicated to me in the previous couple of hours made me audibly gasp.

I had fallen to below 55 at some point in the middle of the night, and stayed in fairly low territory for nearly two full hours before making the slow climb back up.

That’s when it came surging back to me: The memory of waking up, some hours before, to the sound of an urgent low alarm. And then me totally ignoring it in favor of sleep.

The realization hit me as hard as the rain was striking against my rooftop, and then the tears welled in my eyes. I lay there, crying quietly, as I tried to accept the reality that choosing sleep over fixing my low blood sugar could’ve been an extreme error on my part. What if the rain and the power outage hadn’t woken me up? I recognized that given my current blood sugar graph, I would’ve been just fine, but regardless I had still slept through a low and that frightened me – I’m not sure if I’ve ever done that before. Just as I was beginning to really freak out, I felt a rush of gratitude toward my Omnipod 5. After all, it had seemingly detected the low blood sugar and then lessened my basal rate (or perhaps completely stopped delivering any basal insulin altogether) in order to bring my blood sugar back up. I felt as though the system had possibly just saved my life.

So I couldn’t help but lay there and let the tears fall, marveling at the technology that I felt indebted to at this particular moment in time, before I found myself drifting off into a dreamless sleep again.

Sudden as Lightning

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It was as sudden as lightning, when it streaks across the sky just before the rain begins to fall, signs of a storm that that refuses to go unseen or unheard.

“It” being the sweat that began to bead on my forehead, then trickle down fast and furious as I grew more and more aware of a low blood sugar episode.

One moment, I was sitting cool, calm, and collected. I was alert and engaged in the conversation happening around me. And then boom, the sweat started and my concentration on my surroundings ended. Voices grew more distant as I honed in on my outward appearance. Panic struck – could others see how sweaty I was getting? Were they noticing my incessant fidgeting, a coping technique I have when my blood sugar drops and I get paranoid about maintaining an air of everything being just fine? My foot, already jiggling up and down as part of my fidget routine, seemed to pick up the pace as I began to get a grip on the reality that I needed to do something about this low before I further deteroriated.

The door to the room opens. I dart out, walking briskly down the hallway to where my low blood sugar supplies sat waiting for me. I gobble down a pack of fruit snacks as quickly as possible, and then force myself to sit. The sweat’s gotten worse and I worry about it being visible on my clothing. Seconds melt into minutes, somehow, though I pay them little attention as all I can think about is having this low blood sugar episode end, please please please, as soon as possible. I desperately want to escape to a restroom for privacy (and to mop the sweat off my body), but I’m immobilized by the low and also slightly nervous that it’s major enough that I might need help from someone in the vicinity so it’s a terrible idea to isolate myself from others. I push that thought out of my mind – I just need to give the fruit snacks some more time to work, that’s all. Keep it together, you’ve got this, stop freaking out so mu-…

…and just as suddenly as it had struck, the sweat dissipates. My shaky hands steady themselves. I regain an awareness of my environment. I exhale, relief flooding throughout my body as I realize that I’m recovering from the low.

Sudden as lightning, both in how it had struck and then how it had disappeared, leaving hardly any trace that it’d been there at all.

Tingly

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I knew something was wrong when my tongue inexplicably began tingling.

It was a sudden, prickly sensation – almost like I had pins and needles on my tongue. (This is a sensation I get in my feet when I’ve had them in a certain position for too long and I need to get the blood flowing properly again. A quick Google search taught me that just about anyone can experience this, so odds are you already know what I’m talking about.) And it lingered for a solid 20 minutes, making my entire mouth feel as though it was simultaneously numb and on fire from the unrelenting feeling.

This is my new(ish) low symptom: tongue tingling.

And I hate it.

It only seems to occur when my blood sugar hits the 50s or 60s, which doesn’t happen too often. But when it does, it hits me so abruptly that it catches me off guard every time. It’s an unpredictable phenomenon – usually, my first sign of a low blood sugar is feeling shaky/sweaty/dizzy. Once I feel those initial signs of a low, I’m pretty good about being quick to do something about it by grabbing something sugary to eat…and when tingly tongue strikes, it can make the entire eating experience unpleasant because it almost feels like I’m having an allergic reaction to my low snack. And it lasts longer than it takes for my Dexcom to pick up on a recovering low blood sugar.

I’ve genuinely been worried that I was having an anaphylactic reaction in addition to a hypoglycemic event, prompting me on more than one occasion to run over to the closest mirror to check and make sure that my mouth and face aren’t swelling up or turning red. Let me tell you, it’s enough to deal with the low blood sugar sensation – feeling like I’m having an allergic reaction on top of that makes a normally easy-to-deal-with low that much, well, suckier, to be blunt about it.

I classify it as only sorta, kinda new because I’ve dealt with something similar in the past. In fact, roughly 4 years ago, I wrote about “a fuzzy towel tongue” feeling that I experienced after a low blood sugar. It’s funny that I wrote about it because I think at the time, I only ever felt that a handful of times, and the symptom seemed to disappear. But now, it’s apparently back with a vengeance, as the tingling feels much worse now than the numbness I’d felt a few years back.

At least I know that I’m not alone. I’ve talked to my fellow T1D mother about this and she’s also experienced it, in addition to the folks I’d interacted with in the context of my original post on the matter. It might not be fun, but there’s (quite literally) strength in numbers.

Sluggish

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Pasta for lunch. I knew it was a gamble, but on a snowy Friday afternoon when I had a bowl of leftover spinach-stuffed ravioli in the fridge that was begging to be heated up, I simply couldn’t resist it.

I took a larger-than-usual lunchtime bolus to account for the heavy carbs. Or at least I thought it’d account for the carbs. But I was way off. Roughly 45 minutes after I gobbled up my meal, my blood sugar was beginning to take off – with no sign of a smooth landing in sight.

Not that I noticed. Rather, I found myself feeling…slow. My eyes felt droopy with a gradual drowsiness that I couldn’t fight off. Normally, this would feel quite pleasant, especially if I was about to take a nap. But on a Friday afternoon, when I had some work items to wrap up, it was far from a welcome sensation.

As I sat there, staring blankly at my monitor and pretending I couldn’t hear my buzzing CGM that was trying to alert me to the current state of my blood sugar, I was falling deeper and deeper into a state of utter sluggishness. I craved the warmth emitting from my space heater by my desk, relishing how the heat lulled me into listlessness.

In that moment, I was the human equivalent of a happy little slug, oblivious to the realities around it and going about life at my own passive pace, without a single other care in the world.

A representation of me as a slug in a high blood sugar stupor, complete with pod.

I don’t remember what caused me to snap out of my stupor – perhaps I’d heard my CGM vibrate one too many times, or maybe common sense jolted me into realizing that I had stuff to do and couldn’t afford to be overcome by this sensation. But I did find myself peeking at the number that my Dexcom was reporting to me and being somewhat appalled by my hyperglycemic state, as well as being almost grateful for having a logical explanation for why I’d turned into a slow-moving shell of a person. It’s funny how even after 25 years of diabetes, a high blood sugar can still throw me off my game in such a dramatic way. Luckily, a solid correction bolus, change of scenery from my overly cozy desk in my bedroom to the cooler comfort of my downstairs setup, and a large bottle of water brought me back down to where I needed to be – maybe a bit more slowly than I would’ve liked, but hey, a slug can’t complain about swiftness (or lack thereof).

The Emotions of Low Blood Sugar

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This post was originally published on Hugging the Cactus on October 8, 2018. I’m sharing it again today because as I sat down to write a new post, my blood sugar tanked…frustrating the hell out of me by taking away any and all creativity. But it did remind me of the timelessness of this post, and how the emotions of a low blood sugar can be so varied. Read on for more…

Previously, I’ve written about what it feels like to have low blood sugar. While many people with T1D feel the same symptoms as me when they experience a low, there are even more who experience a wider variety of emotions and sensations.

Renza, a T1D Twitter friend of mine, did a little investigating into how others would describe what it’s like to have a low blood sugar. She sent a tweet that read:

#Diabetes friends. I’m crowdsourcing (again). If you had to use ONE WORD to describe how hypos/lows feel to you, what would it be. Go!! #Hypoglycaemia

She received nearly 100 responses, which I’ve compiled into the below graphic.

Looking at this word collage is a bit startling because it represents the vast array of feelings associated with low blood sugar. Most of them are negative. A handful of them start with the prefix “dis”, which describes something with an opposing force. A couple of them relate to feelings associated with eating. And just about all of them can be summed up as sensations that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

To me, this graphic serves as a stark reminder that diabetes is more than just a chronic illness that affects the body: It affects the mind, too.

The Inconvenience of Low Blood Sugar

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Blood sugar drops (and spikes, for that matter) are never convenient, per se. They often take my attention away from the moment or experience that I’m in, and it just so happens that there are times when it’s a bigger deal than others.

Case in point? The blood sugar plummet I dealt with in the middle of reactive dog class for my pup.

Let me set the scene: It was a warm October evening in New England – perfect weather for walking a dog around the neighborhood. That’s exactly what my classmates and I were doing: We had about a dozen dogs that were only just outnumbered by humans getting walked in repetitive loops. The challenge was to test the dogs for their reactivity and correct them whenever they tugged too hard on their leashes or got too excited by another dog, person, or squirrel that was also out and about.

The training exercise itself wasn’t difficult; in fact, it was nice to watch the sun go down and chat with the other dog owners in the class while I kept my dog by my side. But what made it a challenge was when all that walking in circles finally caught up with me and my blood sugar and I started to feel an oncoming low.

I was stressed about it, because I was feeling the shaky/dizzy symptoms of a low, but was struggling with finding a good time to correct it. After all, it would’ve been kind of weird for me to randomly start gobbling down some fruit snacks in the middle of a conversation with the other dog owners, and I really wasn’t up for explaining diabetes to everyone and taking attention away from the training. I thought I was in the clear when it was my dog’s turn to be walked by another trainer – my hands were free and I totally could’ve eaten something quickly – but I balked at it because again, I found myself engrossed in conversation as I was given pointers for walking Violet.

In hindsight, I probably should’ve excused myself from the training exercise to sit down and eat my fruit snacks, but I simply wasn’t in the mood for dealing with my stupid diabetes at this point in time. This is the one hour per week that I’ve got with my dog that is solely focused on training her, and I wanted to be present in the moment. But I’ve got to acknowledge that I can only take good care of my dog if I take care of myself first, and I neglected to do that as soon as I should’ve in this situation.

Ah, well. It was what it was, and luckily the low happened towards the end of the class so I was able to eat my fruit snacks in the privacy of my car without having to explain myself to anyone. Next time, I’ll be better prepared with a sugary drink (like Gatorade) that will be much easier to consume without explanation while walking my dog.