My Diabetes Woke Up When September Ended

Apparently my diabetes has a theme song.

“Wake Me Up When September Ends” by Green Day is the song in question.

The entire month of September, I felt like my diabetes was asleep or something: It didn’t respond the way it should have to my regular dosages of insulin. 

It was truly maddening. I did everything I could to get to the bottom of the mystery.

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It’s like my diabetes had it penciled in on its own calendar to get its act together starting on October 1st. 

I thought it was rotten insulin. Nope. I thought it was maybe a bad batch of pods. Nah. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me (well, yes, I’m definitely a weirdo but for real, there was nothing out of the ordinary going on).

I thought I was going to go nuts, trying to get to the root of the problem and coming up with potential causes only for each one of them to be shot down.

I was not happy to be taking higher doses of insulin than needed, and I wanted answers. Luckily for me, I had an appointment scheduled with my endocrinologist (my last one with her, for now, I hope) at the end of the month, so you can bet it was a major topic of conversation.

We came up with a plan for me to resume Metformin. I didn’t really want to, and there’s certainly more on my feelings about that to come in a future post, but I was desperate to reduce my daily insulin intake and find some sort of stability in my CGM graphs between meals.

So I started Metformin…again. And the difference was noticeable within days.

My diabetes woke up to the insulin doses I was taking, and I felt such an immense relief that I can’t really even describe.

Oh, and you’re welcome for getting that Green Day song stuck in your head.

 

Hugging the Cactus Turns Two!

It feels like just 365 days ago that I was celebrating the first birthday of this blog…

Oh, wait. It feels like that because it WAS like that.

So here I am, 365 days later, on the second birthday of Hugging the Cactus.

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Is my blog’s second birthday a good excuse to eat a cupcake today? (The answer is YES.)

Wow!

The second year of this blog hasn’t been without its challenges. To name a few:

  • Technical difficulties. I’m still learning a lot about how to successfully run a blog. It seems like the blogging world changes on the daily, so it’s tough to keep up with such a fast-paced environment. It’s far from easy – so let me give a shout-out to all the bloggers out there. Whether you have a small following or legions of fans, kudos to you for keeping at it because it’s a lot of work.
  • Time trouble. This year has been jam-packed for me – a move to another state, several weddings, and a whole bunch of personal shit – so, to be perfectly honest, I haven’t been able to devote as much time as I’d like to this blog.
  • Diabetes drama. Of course a girl who runs a diabetes blog has a life filled with diabetes drama. Between navigating the intimidating world of health insurance and coping with diabetes that is constantly keeping me on my toes, sometimes I straight-up just don’t want to write about it because I’ve already spent too much time merely trying to handle it. I struggle with finding the balance between oversharing and holding too much back.

Through it all, though, I keep finding myself returning to this blog time after time. As I’ve shared before, I’ve definitely questioned why I bother with it, especially when it feels like blogging is a semi-irrelevant medium in this day and age of micro-blogging on Instagram.

But I’ve started to answer those questions of self-doubt that I’ve posed to myself.

I think, at the heart of the answer, that the reasons why I keep doing this blog is because it both pushes me to take better care of myself, as well as it forces me to seriously examine how I live my life with diabetes. (And it also brings me closer to other people with diabetes, but that’s a reason that I’ve placed on a pedestal of utmost importance many times before – my desire to connect with other people with diabetes will never not be there.)

It pushes me to take better care of myself because it provides an active record of my thoughts, feelings, and struggles with diabetes that I can consult.

It forces me to look at those records and see how I can address the issues I’m experiencing, or prevent old problems from happening again.

This blog serves as the ultimate T1D diary for me – by documenting my life with diabetes, I believe that I can improve my quality of life with it…which makes it incredibly worth doing, IMHO. And if I can connect with and help others along the way? Well, that makes it even more precious and special to me.

So, happy 2nd birthday, Hugging the Cactus. Here’s to another year of thriving with diabetes.

What the…BEEP!

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

A long, unfaltering, high-pitched beep was emitting from something in the pharmacy. I saw heads turn in the vicinity as fellow customers, as well as myself, tried to identify the source of the noise.

I gulped. Could it be coming from me? Did my OmniPod fail right then and there as I was picking up my prescription?

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I wish an image could accurately portray just how annoying the beeping sound can be.

I anxiously dug through my backpack, my fingers searching for my PDM, until they met it. I pulled it out and prayed that all was well, that my pod was working as it should be.

A quick press of a button, and…I confirmed that my PDM and pod were, indeed, working properly. Simultaneously relieved yet still bemused by the noise, I put my PDM away while I scanned the area around me, determined to find out what was making a sound so similar to my OmniPod.

What was the culprit? Well, you know those little plastic boxes that drugstores encase things like razor blades in, to prevent theft? That was the thing emitting a blaring beep, in this situation. And like I’d initially assumed, it was coming from me: I was holding one of those boxes in my hand (because I was about to purchase razor blade replacement cartridges), and I’d unintentionally obscured the sensor that triggers the alarm to go off.

Whoops.

While it was nice to know that my insulin pump hadn’t failed on me, it was still somewhat embarrassing to discover that I was the cause of the ruckus, anyways.

Lesson learned: Keep those protective plastic cases in plain sight so I won’t have to misidentify what the beep is coming from.

Ye Olde…Insulin Pump?

Sometimes, you just gotta have fun with diabetes.

Which is why I didn’t think twice before writing “ye olde insulin pump” on my pod before attending a renaissance faire last week.

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Me, wearing a flower crown and showing off my ye olde insulin pump…just living my best life.

Yep, there I am, with my pod in full view, my Myabetic backpack slung on my shoulders, and turkey leg in hand. This is pretty much me in my full glory.

I could’ve let my diabetes get in the way of me enjoying the faire, especially because it’s been somewhat unpredictable lately, but I didn’t.

I ate what I wanted, drank some raspberry wine (much tastier than mead, IMHO), and socialized with friends.

I anticipated some people to notice or comment on my pod, which I actually wouldn’t have minded because maybe it would’ve been from another T1D or someone who is familiar with insulin pumps. But all day long, the only remark came from someone within my group, and we all had a chuckle over it…and that was it.

Which is perfectly fine by me, because even though my ye olde insulin pump and I weren’t trying to hide diabetes at the renaissance faire, it did give me a mental vacation from it for part of the day.

Huzzah to that, indeed.

I Don’t Care Why I Have Diabetes

I saw a post on Instagram recently that infuriated me (I hope you can get a sense of the vitriol I’m about to spew out).

An Instagram user (who shall remain nameless because it’s not cool to put people on blast) was exploring the reasons why they thought they developed diabetes in a series of Insta stories. Several questions were asked:

Was it because of an sedentary lifestyle?

Did it have something to do with being breastfed versus bottle-fed?

Does it have to do with diet?

Was it because of exposure to a certain set of germs?

Did it have something to do with a family history of diabetes?

And the list goes on…and on.

Why did it make me angry?

It’s because, well, personally, I don’t care WHY I have diabetes. I don’t think that exploring the reason(s) why I have it is a healthy way to spend my time.

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*Shrug emoji* I just think there are more important conversations to be had when it comes to life with diabetes.

All I know is that my pancreas doesn’t produce insulin – rather than trying to narrow down the reason why that is, I’d much rather put that energy into taking the best possible care of my diabetes.

Am I crazy? Doesn’t that make sense? It’s just that wondering about the why won’t do a damn thing to change the fact that I have diabetes.

I don’t want to make anyone feel badly if they’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the “why” – I’m sure that when I was younger, I asked myself that question a lot – but I’m merely just trying to change the direction and the focus of the conversation.

Let’s not talk about why – let’s talk about how.

How we can live incredible, full lives with diabetes.

How fortunate we are to have access to tools and technology that help us manage it.

How, despite diabetes sucking a lot of the time, it’s actually brought about a lot of positive change and influence in many peoples’ lives.

Now that’s the kind of productive discussions I’d like to see on social media…not the ones that are all doom, gloom, and pure speculation.

The Curious Case of Rotten Insulin

I spent half of the month of August high.

NOT THAT KIND OF HIGH.

I’m talking about blood sugar here, people.

And I’m not talking about scary-high levels. I’m just referring to levels that are higher than I’d like – between 160 and 200. And I’d stay stuck right in that range, even after bolusing quite aggressively.

I chalked it up to stress – life has been a little unkind to me this summer. I also blamed it on making less-than-healthy food choices, and questioned whether I needed to seriously start thinking about taking Metformin again (even though I had a shitty experience on it).

In other words, I took the brunt of responsibility for my highs. I was angry with myself for letting my diabetes get out of my control, and was just starting to accept responsibility when it hit me that it might be something other than my body rebelling against me at play here.

As it turns out, I should’ve suspected an outside factor from the beginning. That’s because my insulin had, somehow, gone bad.

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The vial in question…it caused me a boatload of stress.

I’m still very confused about how or why it happened. My insulin had an expiration date that was like, 2 years from now. The contents within the vial were totally clear – discoloration would’ve indicated an issue – and everything about this vial of insulin looked completely fine.

It was, and still is, an utter mystery to me as to how or why the insulin spoiled.

If nothing else, the case of the rotten insulin made me wonder…why hasn’t anyone developed strips that can check the effectiveness of insulin yet?

Can somebody please get on that (and give me partial credit for helping to spark this genius idea)?

French Fries Are (Still) Evil

In Hugging the Cactus’s infancy, I wrote a blog post called French Fries Are Evil. In this post, I came to the conclusion that french fries are evil because they’re fatty, slow-releasing but high carb little jerks.

I’m here today, almost two years after that post, to let you know that these feelings toward french fries have not changed one bit.

Yep, they’re still evil.

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French fries…a.k.a. little sh*ts.

They straight-up tricked me into thinking that I was bound for a night of beautiful blood sugars not too long ago, despite the less-than-healthy decisions I was making regarding food and drink.

Why did I (naively) think that french fries would play nice with my blood sugars?

Well, for starters, I was doing my best to cut carbs the rest of the carbs I’d be consuming for this particular meal, which was a pulled pork sandwich with a side of fries. I ate less than half of the bun and I certainly didn’t finish the heaping portion of fries. But I did eat a lot more than I normally would (and savored every single one), making sure to bolus semi-aggressively for the indulgence.

And I was literally coasting for hours afterward – I didn’t budge above 130 for at least three hours post-meal. I was confused, but elated! Did I finally figure french fries out? Did I master the correct portion of carbs/protein/fat to eat with them? Or maybe my pancreas decided to resuscitate itself for a narrow window of time that particular evening?

I’m gonna go with the latter.

Because a bit after midnight – a witching hour, indeed – that’s when the crazy corrections, and excessive cursing on my part, started. The french fries had made a proper fool of me again, and I couldn’t believe I’d really fallen for their conniving ways again.

Needless to say, I won’t be ordering french fries with my meal again any time soon. Some foods just aren’t worth it when it comes to figuring out how to make them play nice with my diabetes, and french fries don’t quite cut the mustard.

Oh, and YOU’RE WELCOME for the really silly pun.

I’m Jealous of Your Working Pancreas

Sometimes, I look at my friends and family members and think, I’m jealous of your working pancreas(es). 

It’s not their faults for having perfectly functioning organs – and believe me, I’m glad that they do work the way they should. I’d never wish diabetes on anyone, especially the ones that I care about and love.

But I can’t help but think to myself, it must be nice to not have to worry about any of the crap that I’m constantly thinking about. 

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How lovely it must be to order whatever the heck you want at any restaurant you walk into, without having to worry about how many carbs it contains or how much to bolus for it.

How freeing it must be to live spontaneously, to go out and about wherever you desire without having to lug around a bunch of supplies and snacks, because you never know what you might need to have on hand.

The last time I had these thoughts was when my best friend visited me a few weeks ago in Washington, D.C. We had an absolutely wonderful weekend together that was filled with excellent culinary experiences and lots of walking (we logged 30,000 steps in a single day). Even though we had a blast, I was having a difficult time with my diabetes all weekend long, probably due to all the unfamiliar foods we were eating and the amount of movement we incorporated into each day.

I remember being in the Museum of Natural History when I checked my blood sugar and it was sky high, no thanks to the falafel wrap and soft-serve ice cream I’d consumed for lunch. I felt so defeated – not only was my blood sugar high, but my feet were aching and I felt icky after walking around in 95-degree heat for most of the morning and afternoon. But as an eager-to-please host to my guest, I felt like I still had to paste a smile on my face and show her and her boyfriend a good time.

That’s when the thought came – I’m jealous of your working pancreas – and went….because I knew that I shouldn’t waste any more time or energy begrudging my bestie of her healthy, insulin-producing pancreas. I’m so grateful that hers works – along with many other beloved family and friends – and that she doesn’t have to worry about all the crap that I’m constantly thinking about.

Isn’t it funny – funny interesting, not funny ha-ha – how perspective can change from one moment to the next? How jealousy can turn into gratitude? It’s kind of awesome.

What Every Parent of a T1D Child Needs to Know

I may not be the parent of a T1D child, but I am the T1D child of my parents. So I have a unique perspective on the concerns and fears that a parent of a T1D child might have.

I also have a little more insight on these concerns and fears through my interactions with many parents of T1D children over the years. These parents had children of all ages: from toddler to teenager. Their children ranged from newly diagnosed with diabetes to multi-year veteran of T1D. Despite these differences in ages and years with diabetes, they’ve all had something major in common: An intense fear over the day when their child would make the transition from living under their roof to living independently, on a college campus or in another living situation.

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The mere thought of their beloved son or daughter going through this was enough to make some of these parents on the verge of tears. It was heartbreaking, but also somewhat confusing to me. I understand the unconditional love that parents have for their children, so naturally, they were terrified at the thought of their children feeling alone as they made the transition to young adulthood, or frightened by the prospect of their children suddenly not wanting to take care of their diabetes anymore. But what I didn’t get was why they automatically assumed the worst.

What if their child thrived in this transition? What if their child found a wonderful group of people, such as the College Diabetes Network, that helped them through this period in life (like I did)? What if their child was ready to manage everything on his or her own? Certainly, it would be a source of pride for a parent to witness his or her child do well and embrace independence.

On the flip side, if a young adult with T1D struggled to make the transition smooth…well, I told many of these parents that it’s okay. Because I struggled. A lot, actually. But I made it through. The longer I spent away from home, the more I realized that it was time for me to hold myself accountable in terms of diabetes management. There was never really any big “aha” moment for me. It was more of a slow-and-steady recognition of the fact that the shitty blood sugars I was constantly dealing with could only be changed by me, and me alone. So I took the steps I needed to; naturally, with the support of my parents.

I guess that’s kind of the two-fold message I’m trying to convey here to worried parents of T1D children: 1) Have faith in your child’s ability to adapt to change, and 2) Never underestimate how your support, in any form, can mean the world to your child. Don’t be afraid to have conversations with him/her so you can get on the same page and understand how you’re both feeling about this new life stage. That way, you can find out exactly what kind of support you can offer to your child that he/she will find most helpful.

The bottom line: Parents with T1D children, it’ll be okay. Just like people with diabetes know they’re not alone in their struggle against it, you should also know that there are many other parents out there who probably feel the same as you.

In that way, we’re never truly alone when dealing with new challenges or changes in our lives. Once that’s realized, it becomes a million times easier to figure out the best way to tackle them with your support system by your side.

Stress: The Root of my Diabetes Problems

My summer hasn’t gone as I imagined it would.

I’ve had a lot of unexpected shit to deal with. I prefer not to get into details, because too much of my time and thoughts have been preoccupied by aforementioned shit. In the grand scheme of things, though, I have enough common sense to acknowledge that the shit I’ve dealt with isn’t too terrible…I’ll be able to learn and grow from it, ultimately.

In fact, I’ve already started taking in a lesson it’s taught me about diabetes and stress.

Before all this stuff started happening, I knew that stress could affect blood sugar levels. But I guess I never gave much thought as to how long or how dramatically it could affect blood sugar levels.

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This image of Dwight Schrute basically sums up how I feel lately.

Unfortunately, I found out firsthand how much havoc stress can wreak on blood sugars. I received some stressful news one Monday afternoon and had to combat high blood sugars between then and dinnertime. Into the evening, I was munching on a bunch of different snacks – I tend to stress eat – so I chalked up the resulting high blood sugars to my lack of restraint.

When the high blood sugars continued for three straight days, though, I knew something was wrong. I’d eat meals that I’d had plenty of times before, and contend with elevated blood sugars for hours after. I’d give myself bolus after bolus, sometimes even stacking insulin, and my blood sugar would barely budge. It was maddening, seeing my levels hover stubbornly in the 190-240 mg/dL range. It was only when I started bolusing very aggressively for food and increasing my temp basal that I finally got a reprieve from high blood sugars.

This whole ordeal has taught me that I’ve grossly underestimated stress when it comes to its impact on diabetes management and blood sugar levels. Not only does stress drive my blood sugar levels up, but it also makes it that much harder for me to confidently manage my diabetes, overall. It’s very sneaky in how it attacks blood sugar and, frustratingly, there’s never any surefire way of telling when my diabetes will calm down again when I’m undergoing a stressful situation.

Maybe this is a sign that I’ve got to find a better way to cope with stress. Meditation, yoga, exercise, more self-care…I’ve definitely been slacking on all of that lately. Just like I won’t be underrating how stress affects my diabetes any time soon, I’ll also remember to take into account how beneficial it is to just…relax.