8 Things I Hate About High Blood Sugar

High blood sugar, high bg, hypergycemia, sky high…whatever you want to call high blood sugar, it doesn’t change how I feel about it. I hate it. My loathing of high blood sugar is probably not unique among other T1Ds – I’m sure most would agree that it’s the worst – but on a recent and particularly bad day of high blood sugars, I started thinking about why I hate being high so much and it turned into this blog post…which turned into a very cathartic thing for me to write.

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What do you hate about high blood sugar?

What are the eight things that I hate about high blood sugar? Here they are, from least to most detestable:

8. It makes me thirsty.
This reference may be lost on some of my readers, but to those who get it, it’ll be wildly funny (or at least it will be in my mind): *Parched Spongebob Squarepants voice* “Waaaaaaaaater! I neeeeeeeeed it!” When my blood sugar is high, I basically turn into that shriveled-up version of Spongebob that appeared in the episode in which he visits Sandy the squirrel’s treedome for the first time. He doesn’t realize that, being a mammal, Sandy doesn’t depend on water like he does to be able to live/breathe. Hence, he struggles throughout the episode to stay hydrated. I bet that if he were dealing with a high blood sugar at the same time, his desperation for water would become much more dire…because let me tell you, I simply cannot drink enough of it when my blood sugar is above 200. This results in many trips to the bathroom, and as I’m sure you can imagine, it’s pretty annoying.

7. It turns me into a major grump.
Nothing kills a good mood quite as swiftly as high blood sugar…I don’t like admitting it, but I tend to snap at people when my blood sugar’s elevated. So really, it’s a lose-lose situation for everyone.

6. It’s a weight on my shoulders.
If my blood sugar is high, I can’t help but wonder what I did wrong to make it so. Did I miscalculate my carbs? Should I have given myself more insulin? Should I have timed my exercise better? Is my insulin pump work properly? The list of questions and possible answers are practically endless, and it weighs heavily on me when I’m dealing with an inexplicable high.

5. It’s disruptive.
When my blood sugar is high for a prolonged period of time, I can’t focus on anything else but that. I’ll do anything and everything I can to take my mind off it and just let my corrective insulin dose go to work, but I can’t help but worry. This can be especially disruptive when I’m trying to get work done at my desk job, or when I’m trying to enjoy a night out with friends. It can suck the joy out of any situation, and that can be incredibly disheartening.

4. It doesn’t get along with exercise.
High blood sugar is weird, because sometimes it cooperates with exercise, and other times it reacts very badly to it. I find that if I workout at 250 or below, my blood sugar responds wonderfully to the movement and it’ll drop my blood sugar down to a better level much faster than insulin. But if I dare to workout above 250, then things can go terribly wrong and my blood sugar will go up even more. I learned that lesson the hard way in college, when I went to a high-intensity spinning class…I was so nervous about going low in the middle of the class that I overcompensated with a pre-workout snack. So over the course of the class, my blood sugar shot up to 300 due to the strenuous exercise coupled with the extra carbs. Not fun.

3. It makes my CGM wail.
I appreciate the alarms on my CGM, but NOT when they go off over and over and OVER again. It feels like my CGM is judging me for being high and it couldn’t be more obnoxious…and I just want to throw my device across the room to get it to shut up.

2. It prevents me from eating when I’m hungry.
I don’t always want to eat when my blood sugar is high, but occasionally, high blood sugar coincides with mealtimes and I end up staring longingly at food while I wait for my blood sugar to stabilize at a better level. Depending on when the high happens and how badly I wanted to eat some food, I can get very hangry (angry AND hungry), which is never a good state of mind to be in.

1. It’s stubborn.
The worst part about high blood sugar is that sometimes, it feels like it takes FOREVER for it to come back down. During the waiting period, anxiety, irritation, and anger are all emotions that can manifest themselves within me. And it sucks. The mental games that high blood sugar can play with me are straight-up cruel, and since a high can be so damn stubbornly slow to respond to insulin, it makes it that much harder to handle…which is why, I can say with 100% certainty, that I hate high blood sugars with a bloody passion.

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The Hellacious, Headstrong High

There’s lots of different “kinds” of high blood sugar. There is the type that is self-inflicted due to inaccurate carb counting or insulin dosing. There’s the sort that can be blamed on technological error – an insulin pump failure or a cannula kink, for instance. And another kind is linked to illness, when a cold or other sickness prevents insulin from working efficiently, thereby stopping blood sugars from coming down to normal levels.

And then there’s the type of high blood sugar that simply can’t be explained. It’s high for seemingly no goddamn reason, and it’s the most frustrating high of them all.

That kind of high is also the kind that takes what feels like forever to come down.

I experienced this after a Saturday of travel earlier this month. I’m fairly accustomed to traveling, especially if it’s a quick trip on a plane or just a few short hours in the car. I say this because I’m almost positive that my hours-long high blood sugar had nothing to do with my travel day…although when it comes to diabetes, nothing can truly be ruled out.

Anyways, I digress. That day involved me heading out of the house at 10 A.M. I drove to the shuttle that would take me to the airport. I got to the airport about an hour before my flight was due to take off. I went through TSA Pre-Check – my first time using the service, which I totally recommend – without any issues. I had enough time to pick up some food for a small lunch, but when I checked my CGM and noticed that my blood sugars were hovering in the 200s, I decided to deliberately pick lower-carb snacks to munch on in lieu of a real lunch. Turkey jerkey and cheddar popcorn weren’t the most filling snacks, but it was something.

I figured that by the time I got on the plane, my blood sugars would be stabilizing. No such luck. I was still in the low 200s. I took one or two more boluses during my quick hour-and-a-half long flight, thinking that I must be heading for a blood sugar crash by the time I deplaned. Nope. I was still running high, even by the time I met my partner by the baggage claim. I raised my temp basal and kept my fingers crossed that by the time we reached the restaurant we were bound for, I’d be coasting down. As we got settled at our table, I checked my blood sugar and felt slightly relieved to see that I was 183. At least I was finally below 200.

Teacher's Month 2020

I pushed blood sugar worries out of my mind for the next hour or so. I just wanted to enjoy my meal and my time with my significant other. But as we finished eating and made our back to the car, I couldn’t help but notice the repeated buzzing coming from my CGM. I was rising gradually, well on my way to 300. I tried to not panic and gave myself more insulin. We arrived home and the vicious cycle truly began. For the next three or four hours, I tested and corrected every hour, on the hour. Midway through that interval of time, I changed my pod – perhaps it stopped working properly – and prayed that the new pod would finally bring me back down.

And, spoiler alert: It eventually did. But in the agonizingly long hours I had to wait before my blood sugar was down…I experienced a bevy of emotions. I was mad. I was upset. At one point, I was very technical and rational, going through my next steps both in my head and out loud to my worried partner. He asked me what we should do in the event that my blood sugar was still elevated after a certain length of time, and that’s when I started crying tears of fear and frustration. It all felt so unfair. I was doing all the right things and it wasn’t make a difference. That was a hard reality to swallow. And I couldn’t help but cry harder when he asked me to show him how to use glucagon again (it’s been at least 3 years since he had formal training with my diabetes educator). Part of me felt better, knowing that he was prepared for adverse affects of taking so much insulin to combat a high, but I think I was more focused on and distraught by the fact that he might need to intervene, which was an especially upsetting scenario because I never want to put that responsibility on anyone.

Once I calmed down, I filled a water glass, sat down on the couch, and texted my mother, who is always my T1D sounding board. She reassured me that I was doing the right things, and that I should continue to wait and see what happened. She also advised me that I should be prepared for a crash, because sometimes, it seems like all the insulin kicks in at once when blood sugar drops too quickly/low from a high.

So I waited. I drank water. I showed my boyfriend the app on my phone that simulates glucagon injections – just in case. I played video games. I tried to keep my cool. Before long, it was nearing midnight, and I desperately wanted to curl up in bed. I went through my pre-bed routine, washing my face and brushing my teeth, knowing I’d check my blood sugar for the umpteenth time that night once I was done.

And…it was 153. Better yet, it didn’t go as low as it could have overnight: I dropped to about 75 by 8:30 A.M. All things considered, it was a decent outcome.

The hellacious, headstrong high had finally subsided. I was so, incredibly relieved. And I’m so, incredibly hopeful that I don’t experience a day like that again any time soon.

Rolling with the Punches (and the High Blood Sugar)

I just wanted a nice dinner out on New Year’s Eve…but diabetes – or rather, my diabetes devices – had another plan in mind.

You see, that’s when my brand-new pod decided to stop working properly, leaving me no choice but to deliver insulin via syringe in the middle of a fancy restaurant.

Hence, my unamused expression in the following photo.

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Shooting up like the diabadass I am.

On the one hand, it was irritating to deal with, especially since my malfunctioning pod delivered high blood sugar to me in lieu of insulin. But on the other hand, what else could I do except roll with the punches? After all, it was New Year’s Eve – the final night of 2018. I was NOT about to allow diabetes to ruin it for me.

So I left my frustration and dismay at my high blood sugars at home, where I first realized there might be something wrong with my pod, and did my best to maintain an upbeat attitude throughout dinner. Yes, I was checking my CGM often, but I also remained engaged in conversation with my dinner companions (thanks for that meal, Mom and Dad). I took comfort in the knowledge that I was prepared with a vial of insulin and syringes should my blood sugar stay high in spite of my aggressive boluses. And when it did indeed climb into the 300s, I calmly set down my fork and knife, fished a syringe and my insulin from my backpack, drew up eight units, and rolled up my sleeve to inject right then and there. It felt kind of weird to “shoot up” in the middle of the dining establishment, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I could’ve gone to the restroom, but I knew that the lighting would be bad – at least I could have assistance from my parents by injecting at the table (again, thanks Mom and Dad, the cell phone lights came in clutch in this situation).

As I pushed down on the syringe’s plunger, I vaguely wondered whether any restaurant patrons were watching and wondering what the actual eff I was doing. I was self-conscious about it for a hot second, but I got over it because I knew I was doing what needed to be done.

I was rolling with the punches, high blood sugar and all, because it was the best thing to do for my body and my mind. Plus, I really got to stick it to my diabetes by refusing to let it spoil my night, and to me, that was much sweeter than the cheesecake my mom and I split for dessert.

Diabetes, Diets, and Holidays are Naughty, Not Nice

Ahh, the holiday season…it’s been in full swing for just about a month now, and with that arrived a bevy of parties, potlucks, and poor dietary decisions. In a week, the new year will be here and it’ll bring a fresh start with it, but for now…I’m trying to find a way to make peace with all the indulgences I’ve enjoyed in the last several weeks.

Takeout Chinese food, pizza, homemade roasts, and baked goods galore are among the gamut of glutinous grub responsible for transforming me into a guilty gourmand over the course of the holidays. (Can I get a round of applause for that alliterative sentence?) I wish I could say that I had the willpower to resist the temptation of these foods that have been provided at the various holiday parties I’ve attended; alas, I couldn’t stop myself from noshing on them just as much as the other guests at these gatherings. A fair share of my fellow party attendees commiserated with me about diets flying out the window this time of year, but very few of them could understand that the fattening fare impacts more than just my waistline.

My blood sugars, of course, have been a victim of holiday feasting just as much as my size six jeans.

Feel the joy!
Instead of sugarplums, I’ve got visions of wacky blood sugars and too-tight pants dancing in my head. Fun!!!

Truthfully, they’re not as terrible as they’ve been during past holiday seasons. But that doesn’t mean I’m satisfied with them, or okay with the fact that they tend to rise and crash at equally rapid paces when I eat too much of the carb-y stuff and correct accordingly with insulin. The roller coaster ride combined with the feeling that I’m turning into the Pillsbury dough girl is what I’m fed up with, and I’m trying to figure out a way to stop punishing myself for it. After all, a new year IS right around the corner, and like many others in the world, I can and should use it as a reason to start eating more mindfully and healthfully, leaving the dietary mistakes of 2018 in the past.

It’s definitely cliche, but I’ve got to get back into the routine and replace all the cookies and fancy chocolates I’ve been consuming with leafy veggies and lean proteins. It won’t be easy, but I know that it’ll be worth the improved blood sugars and looser pants that are bound to follow.

 

Christmas Caroling: Diabetes Style

I love Christmas. And I love Christmas carols. Why not express my love for Christmas carols here, on my diabetes blog, by switching up the words to some Christmas tunes and making them about the ‘betes?

Have a magical Christmas!

Here’s attempt #1 of two to transform a classic Christmas song and make it about diabetes. First up, we’ve got the words to “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” changed to reflect to something else that comes ’round this time of year…high blood sugar. Oh yes. I can’t be the only one who seems to experience higher blood sugars in the month of December, largely due to the fact that there’s tons of tempting treats to be enjoyed, potlucks to attend, and dinners to savor. So I wanted to recognize that episodes of hyperglycemia may be an unwelcome, but inevitable, aspect of the holiday season by singin’ about it. Because what else are you going to do while you wait for your insulin to kick in?

Without further ado, here’s my rendition of High Blood Sugar’s Comin’ to Town…(please, please, PLEASE sing along to the tune of the original song. It really is so much more fun to read that way!)

High Blood Sugar’s Comin’ to Town

You better carb count,
You better take care
You better have the right amount,
Or else you will swear
High blood sugar’s coming to town
High blood sugar’s coming to town
High blood sugar’s coming to townGrab your glucometer,
Check your bg twice;
Gonna regret eating that cheesecake slice,
High blood sugar’s coming to town
High blood sugar’s coming to town
High blood sugar’s coming to town

It keeps you from sleeping
You’re forced to stay awake
It makes you super thirsty,
So stay hydrated, for goodness sake

With buzzing Dexcoms and beeping pumps,
Beep bop boop and now-I’m-a-grump,
High blood sugar’s coming to town
High blood sugar’s coming to town
High blood sugar’s coming to town

It keeps you from sleeping
You’re forced to stay awake
It makes you super thirsty,
So stay hydrated, for goodness sake
Goodness sake!

You better carb count,
You better take care
You better have the right amount,
Or else you will swear
High blood sugar’s coming to town
High blood sugar’s coming to town
High blood sugar’s coming
High blood sugar’s coming
High blood sugar’s coming to town

(Coming to town)
I’m a busy girl, I’ve got no time to play
I’ve got tons of sweets to enjoy on Christmas day
(High blood sugar’s coming to town)
(Coming to town)
(High blood sugar’s coming to town)
(Coming to town)

Why Backup Supplies are Important to a T1D

“It’s better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it.”

Growing up, this mantra was frequently repeated by my mother regarding my diabetes supplies. More often than not, I’d roll my eyes at the saying – not because I was annoyed with her, but because the prospect of carrying extra supplies “just in case” felt very inconvenient. My purse/backpack/overnight bag would already be crammed to maximum capacity, so squeezing in backup needles or insulin was practically impossible. But typically, I’d cave and make it all work somehow, because the fear of not having something essential when I was away from home was strong enough.

I’ve kept up this practice in my adulthood, as overnight travel and increased distance from home have become more common. And I was reminded why it’s a good idea very recently.

I was staying at a friends’ place for the night. They live about 45 minutes away from my house, which isn’t far, but it was far enough for me to want to make sure I had extra supplies. I definitely did not want to have to make that drive twice in one night, and I knew it wouldn’t even be a realistic option, because chances were good that I’d be drinking alcohol – it was game night, after all.

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If you have T1D, always be prepared.

Pizza, beers, and laughs were had, and before we knew it, it was one in the morning. We all headed off to bed, and just as I do every night, I checked my blood sugar before I got totally settled.

I was wicked high – the mid-300s, actually.

I was worried, because I thought I’d been on top of my blood sugar for most of the night. I gave myself an extended bolus for the three slices of pizza I ate, limited my beer intake (too many carbs), and kept a watchful eye on my CGM. While I did know that my blood sugar was climbing, I thought that I was staying on top of it with correction doses. Apparently not.

No matter, I figured. The best I could do was take more insulin, drink some water, and try to relax a bit before bed. I didn’t want to sleep until I knew my numbers were coming down, but I also knew that my willpower to stay awake was fading. So I set an alarm on my phone to wake up in an hour and check my blood sugar again.

When I did, I was 377! I couldn’t believe it. I followed the same process again – bolused, drank water, set an alarm to wake up in another hour – and hoped for the best. But when my alarm blared again at 3 A.M. and I discovered that I was STILL stuck at 377, something told me that there was more to the story here. I lifted up my shirt to check my pod, which should’ve been securely stuck to my belly…except it wasn’t. The end with the cannula was sticking up, revealing that the cannula was not underneath the surface of my skin.

I felt simultaneously pissed off and relieved. I was mad because I’d just changed my pod earlier that day, so it should not have come off so easily. But I was relieved because finally, I had an explanation behind the super-high, super-stagnant blood sugars.

And I was seriously relieved that I’d thought to pack my insulin, a spare pod, and an alcohol swab in my overnight bag.

So there I was, changing my pod at 3 A.M. Far from fun, but it was necessary. I even wound up giving myself an injection with a syringe – yet another diabetes supply that I don’t really need to carry but had stowed away in my kit (just in case) – to ensure that my system had insulin in it to bring my blood sugar back down.

From there, it was a long night (morning!) as I set numerous alarms for the next few hours to wake up, check my blood sugar, and bolus more as needed. I couldn’t rely on my CGM for readings, because guess what? It got torn right off my arm as I tossed and turned in bed. Go figure, right? (I didn’t have a backup sensor because the CGM is one thing that isn’t exactly necessary. It makes life a helluva lot easier, but for a single overnight trip, an extra sensor wasn’t needed.)

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What a long night…

I probably only got three hours of sleep that night, and I was pretty damn defeated looking at a shitty CGM graph the next day. But you know what? The whole incident serves as a stark reminder that it’s important to ALWAYS have backup supplies: You never know when you might depend on them.

Diabetes and Honesty: Don’t be Afraid to Speak Up

It’s said that ignorance is bliss…but as I recently (re)learned, ignorance can cause fear and misunderstanding in times that it’s better to be honest.

The lesson was hammered into my brain after fibbing to my significant other about my blood sugar a couple of weeks ago. It was a Saturday night, we had spent the day moseying around the city, and we were looking forward to a chill evening doing a whole lot of nothing. We decided to get into a collaborative card game while we watched the Red Sox play against kick the Astros’ butts.

As we set up the game, I knew my blood sugar was high. But I ignored it, figuring that my insulin would kick in soon and bring my levels back down to normal. I should’ve known that it wouldn’t be so simple (is ANYTHING ever simple when it comes to diabetes?) because after an hour and a half, no progress was made on the BG front and my mood was worsening as a result of it. My partner, ever-attentive, asked me more than once why I seemed so cross. He even directly asked if it was related to my blood sugar, and I…didn’t exactly tell the truth.

diabetes honesty

Okay, I lied! But it was only because I didn’t want him to worry. I was already worried enough for the two of us. And I thought I was doing the right thing here. I really, truly thought my blood sugar would come down in no time at all, and I hate, hate, HATE using anything related to my diabetes as an excuse for my behavior…so rather than admit what I was going through, I brushed it off, which only exacerbated everything. Not my proudest moment.

As the night went on, we got deeper into the game and my blood sugar climbed higher. I was beyond agitated at this point, and my heart certainly wasn’t into the game. Besides neglecting to open up about my blood sugar problems, I’m also ashamed of my lack of interest in the card game. In hindsight, the healthy thing to do in this situation would’ve been to have faith in my treatment decisions and try to enjoy myself in the meantime. But I was too caught up in the negative mindset that the high blood sugar put me into, and unfortunately, it marred an otherwise perfectly nice night.

The next day, when my blood sugar situation was back to normal, I came clean to my boyfriend. I think he was a bit irked with me for hiding the truth from him, but I also think that he understood a little more after I explained why.

In this case, diabetes won…at least it did in that brief moment in time. Between ruining my mood and causing a mild rift between me and a loved one, I felt pretty damn defeated by it. In the long run, though, I think this experience will be more of a boon than a bane, because it reinforced the notion of honesty being the best policy – even when it comes to diabetes.