In Vlog #3, I talk about how frustrating it can be to experience a low blood sugar when trying to do something as simple as run an errand…and what I decided to do about it on a recent trip to a few stores. Watch the video and leave a comment to let me know what you think!
Tag: doc
Dad Appreciation Post
This post originally appeared on Hugging the Cactus on June 18, 2018. I wanted to republish it today because my dad (and all fathers of T1D children) should be recognized for everything they do for us. I also wanted to give my dad a little extra shout-out, as this is the first Father’s Day that I’m not there to celebrate him in-person.
Father’s Day was yesterday, but as I did the day after Mother’s Day, I want to use today’s blog as an opportunity to express my appreciation for dads: Namely, my own father.
Besides being the family patriarch, my dad is a firefighter/EMT. He makes his family feel safe with his emergency preparedness knowledge and skills. He also deals with his diabetic wife and daughter on an almost-daily basis, which warrants, at the very least, a ginormous golden trophy with his name engraved on it in fancy script.

That’s because he sees the ugly side of diabetes from time to time. The side that causes blood to spurt out of mom’s abdomen when she removes a pod that struck a vein. The side that causes me to lash out, because my blood sugar won’t seem to come down from a sticky high, no matter what I do. The side that causes mom and I to lose sleep, because we’re treating another middle-of-the-night low blood sugar. The side that forces mom and I to be prepared for any and every possible diabetes scenario that could occur while traveling. The side that causes us to cry, because we just can’t deal with diabetes today.
And he’s there through it all.
He’s there to apply pressure and gauze to the bloody site. He’s there, feeling just as upset as I am, because he just wants my blood sugar levels to come back down, too. He’s there to make sure mom and I have enough glucose tablets or juice to bring our levels back up. He’s there, keeping us calm as we pack for our next trip and taking care of all the travel arrangements. He’s there to comfort us when we need him to, and he hates that we live with diabetes – probably even more than we do.
He’s the kind of guy who says he’d trade his pancreas with us in a heartbeat if it meant we wouldn’t have to live with diabetes anymore.
He’s the kind of guy I’m proud to call my dad.
Thanks, Dad, for helping me handle my diabetes over the years, and supporting every venture (diabetes and otherwise) that I pursue.
Metformin Update #2: Reintroducing Myself to the Big White Pill
It’s been a minute since I wrote about my Metformin journey on the blog. The last time I posted about it, I had made the decision to stop taking it after experiencing a scary low blood sugar. That, coupled with the fact that I just didn’t feel ready to be experimenting so much with my diabetes medication, convinced me that the timing wasn’t right for me and Metformin.
Fast-forward to May 30, 2019. I had an appointment with my endocrinologist. It was a productive one, because we addressed a number of my concerns that have cropped up in the last three months. One question I had for her was whether she thought I should give Metformin another shot.

She thought that I should. We went over the benefits: it’d make my insulin more effective, thereby fighting back against my current insulin resistance and reducing my total daily intake. With less artificially-made insulin in my system, I may be reducing my risk for cancer (according to studies she’s read), and I may also shed a few of the pounds that I’ve been struggling to lose.
By the time of this appointment, I was feeling frustrated with the amounts of insulin I was using each day. Ever since I got off my parents’ health insurance plan, I’ve been super conscious about my supply of insulin as I try to figure out how I’ll afford it under my new plan. And it hasn’t been easy. So in an effort to reduce my overall insulin use, I decided it was time to give Metformin another go.
I’m more cautious this time around. My doctor and I talked about my fears and she helped me come up with a plan to reintroduce it to my diabetes care and management routine. I’m starting to take less insulin at dinnertime and I’m running a temp basal overnight to see how my blood sugars fare. We’re playing it safe by somewhat dramatically reducing my dinnertime insulin-to-carb ratio, but I’d much rather do that than be overly aggressive.
It’s only been about a week since I’ve started the new regimen. That’s not enough time for me to attest to whether or not I’ve adjusted to it, because I deliberately skipped taking Metformin on a couple nights in which I knew I’d be imbibing alcohol…again, it’s all about being smart and not introducing too many variables at once. We’ll see how it goes. Until Metformin update #3, that’s all I’ve got for now.
That “Thing” on my Arm
“Yo, I don’t mean to be rude, but what’s that thing on your arm? Looks pretty cool.”
I turned around to face the stranger who was looking at me and asking me this question. It was well after midnight and we were on the rooftop of a fairly crowded bar. It was a balmy, summery night and I was enjoying the atmosphere with my boyfriend and my best friend. I’d had a few drinks over the course of the night, but judging by the state of everyone else on the rooftop, I was probably more sober than most of them.

I could’ve answered his question in a scolding manner; it wasn’t a “thing”, it was a device that keeps me alive.
I could’ve totally dismissed him and told him to mind his own beeswax, because really, it is sort of rude to point out something on another person’s body.
I could’ve lied and told him it was something that it’s not to get him to stop bothering me.
I could’ve launched into an educational breakdown of what an insulin pump is and why my OmniPod looks the way it does.
I could’ve done any number of things, but instead I decided to say, “Oh, this is my insulin pump. I’ve got it decorated right now with a picture of a lighthouse because I like adding some style to it.” I smiled at him as a way of reassuring him that I really didn’t care that he was asking me, because I didn’t.
My straightforward answer seemed to please this random man. He told me again that he thought it was cool, and then we chatted a bit about where the lighthouse is and discovered we both have a connection to Massachusetts. Within a few brief moments, the conversation was over as we went our separate ways.
It was a perfectly harmless interaction that could’ve went a number of different ways, but to me, it’s all about context. This guy was just asking out of curiosity, and I truly don’t think he was trying to be rude about it. So I answered his question succinctly but good-naturedly, because I felt that was the only way to go about it in this busy party environment. Plus, let’s be real here…had I delved into a discussion about diabetes and devices, this drunk man probably wouldn’t have digested a single detail of my description. (Ahh, I love alliteration.) And another important point? He was damn right, my pump did look cool because of the lighthouse sticker!
But man, how much simpler it’d’ve been if I’d just been wearing my “THIS IS MY INSULIN PUMP” sticker on my pod that night.
What Would it be Like to Have Diabetes in the Wizarding World?
I’m a Harry Potter fan. A major one. I attended the midnight release book parties. I saw every movie in theaters. I’ve dressed as Hermione Granger for Halloween on more than one occasion. I’ve been to the theme park in Florida, I’ve read the books a countless number of times, and I’ve even written fan fiction before. So maybe I’m a little bit more than a fan…I’m an ardent enthusiast.
Even though the last Potter book came out years ago, I still indulge in the wizarding world somewhat often. One day, I was thinking about it and how nobody in the books ever suffered any serious maladies (okay, having all of your bones removed by your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor or getting petrified by a basilisk snake or Splinched when Apparating are all pretty significant conditions…but bear with me here). None of the characters had anything chronic, like arthritis, or Crohn’s disease, or type 1 diabetes. And one might make the argument that it’s the effing wizarding world…why couldn’t magic be used to cure any of these illnesses?

My response to that question would be: How come Mad-Eye Moody had a fake eye? Couldn’t a new, working one have been magicked into his eye socket? (Same thing goes for his wooden leg.) George Weasley lost his ear, thanks to a Death Eater – how come it couldn’t be restored onto his head? Dragonpox, Spattergroit, and lycanthropy are all serious conditions in the books that, if curable, weren’t easily healed. Particularly lycanthropy, otherwise known as a condition in which a person transforms to a werewolf. The books specifically said there was no cure for this; only Wolfsbane potion could be drunk by the affected person to ease the transition from human to werewolf.
So obviously, I think that lycanthropy = T1D, and Wolfsbane potion = insulin in this hypothetical comparison/scenario. That being said, life with diabetes in the wizarding world as I’ve imagined it would be a little something like this…
- Diagnosis would take place at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Madam Pomfrey would be on-hand to learn how to help the affected student.
- Pumpkin juice and butterbeer are definitely the best/most preferable ways to bring up a low blood sugar.
- Honeydukes, the confections shop in Hogsmeade, would offer sugar-free confections that tasted so wonderful that I’d forget they were sugar-free.
- Insulin would be administered in a much less painful and invasive way. Perhaps Professor Snape would let me brew some potions for doing so in class?
- Quidditch would be the ideal form of exercise/would help keep my blood sugars in check.
- Instead of Express Scripts, I’d get my medications via Owlery Express – my very own Hedwig-esque owl would deliver them to me. And they’d cost no more than a Knut (the lowest value coin in the wizarding world).
- In Charms, I’d learn how to calculate the carbohydrates in my food with just the wave of my wand.
- My Care of Magical Creatures class would introduce me to a hot-pink colored pygmy puff who would be the magical equivalent to a diabetes alert dog – just with a touch more inherent as opposed to learned knowledge about diabetes.
- I’d learn all about Banting and Best in Muggle Studies.
Well, what are your thoughts? If you’re well-versed in the PotterSphere, what would you add to my bullet-point list? Drop a comment below…trust me, it’s actually incredibly fun to imagine a world where diabetes is a bit more tolerable, especially one so fantastically magical.
Trying to Stay in the Loop with DIY Diabetes
I can’t remember exactly when I heard of “DIY diabetes”, also known as “looping”. It may have been at a conference a few years ago, or maybe I saw something about it on social media. Either way, it seems to have totally blown up as more and more people with T1D are looping.

Before I talk about it more…a brief definition of looping. Loop refers to a kind of automated insulin delivery system. According to what I read about it on diaTribe, Loop systems are open-source and DIY, meaning that T1D Loopers download an app for the iPhone that communicates with a device that also communicates with compatible pumps and CGMs.
If you’re confused, don’t worry – so am I. There’s a number of moving pieces involved with Looping that make it daunting and difficult for me to keep up with as the technology changes. But the ultimate goal of Looping is what has me interested in it. Looping is supposed to help improve time-in-range, particularly overnight, because it does a lot of the thinking for you and ultimately makes life with diabetes easier. And I’m all for that.
Looping’s been popping up on my social media a lot lately because at the end of April, the geniuses behind Loop announced that compatibly with the OmniPod for the first time. (Previously, Looping was only available to Medtronic folks.) On what feels like a daily basis, I notice more people on my social media platforms – particularly Instagram – who are Podders that have made the decision to start Looping. The common denominator with many of these individuals, besides being Looping Podders (sounds like a wacky band name) is that they’ve found great success in doing so. It seems like each person spends 90% or more of his/her time in range, encounters fewer low/high blood sugars, and wastes less time worrying about diabetes in general.
All of that sounds too good to be true. Of course my interest is piqued by such incredible results, and of course I’d love to dive right into Looping and see whether it’s a good fit for me. But the reason why I don’t is simple…I just hesitate to trust new technology.
Technology can fail. Plain and simple. All operations for Looping with the OmniPod take place on the iPhone. That means that the PDM is rendered useless. What happens if I lose my cell phone? What if the battery dies when I need to bolus? What do I do when I upgrade to a new phone? There are so many questions I can think of related to the phone issues alone, never mind any other potential problems. Put simply, the unknowns – the “what ifs” – terrify me so much that I can’t help but be skeptical of Looping.
But this doesn’t mean my interest goes away. My curiosity about Looping is stronger than ever. The DIY element is frightening, but the rewards could be greater than the risks.
The only thing I know for sure is that I won’t even attempt to Loop until I have a conversation with my endocrinologist about it. Together, we make decisions about my diabetes care and treatment that we both feel are safe and right for me. I’d love her opinion on Looping to see how much she knows about it and whether she has any patients who use it. Until I talk to her and gain more information from other Loopers, it’ll just be something that I cautiously admire from afar on social media.
Starting Off on the Wrong Foot
“How are you today, ma’am?” The man behind the Dunkin’ Donuts counter smiled and looked at me expectantly, as I started back at him blankly.
I wasn’t sure how to answer. My mental state wasn’t great, that was for sure. I’d just come from a visit to a walk-in clinic, where I’d had X-rays of my foot taken to see whether or not it was fractured.
The previous 24 hours had been a bit of a whirlwind. I’d worked and gone to my first-ever kickboxing class, which was an awesome experience. I’d had dinner with my partner and started playing video games soon after as a way to unwind after the long day. That’s when pain in my foot flared up, suddenly and significantly.
Could I have injured it in the kickboxing class, without even knowing it? Was I overdoing it on exercising, in general? How and why did the pain just start up like that? Almost immediately, I plopped myself down onto the couch with an ice pack and extra cushions, hoping that I could stop the pain as quickly as it started.
No such luck. I went to bed early that night, but the pain was so severe that sleep was virtually impossible. I tossed and turned for hours, wondering what the hell was going on and coming up with a plan to get it checked out A.S.A.P.
That’s how I found myself at a walk-in clinic, a little over 12 hours after I first felt the pain. I was evaluated by a nurse practitioner who told me that “the likelihood of a fracture was low” (thank goodness) and that it was “probably tendinitis.” I was given instructions to rest, ice, and elevate my foot for the weekend, and take non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (otherwise known as NSAIDs, like Ibuprofen or Aspirin) as needed.

That meant hours and hours of being sedentary.
That meant no exercise of any kind – I even had to keep walking at a minimum.
That meant my spirits were crushed.
I was glad that it wasn’t worse, and proud of myself for not waiting to seek medical treatment. But that didn’t mean I was thrilled with the outcome. Basically, I had to take the wait-and-see approach. Time will tell how long the pain lasts, and I can’t stand not knowing. I also can’t stand not being able to be active. Daily exercise is a key element to maintaining good blood sugars. Sitting around idle doesn’t do my diabetes any favors, but it’s not like I had any other choice.
I left the clinic, trying to process this information. This certainly wasn’t the way I wanted to kick off the long Memorial Day weekend. It definitely could have gotten off on a better foot. (Okay, okay, I’ll stop with the puns.) I found myself at a nearby Dunkin’ Donuts minutes later. I hobbled in, hoping that an iced coffee might lift my spirits somewhat.
I blinked, bringing myself back into the moment, and smiled wryly at the Dunkin’ cashier. “I’m okay,” I said to him. It wasn’t just a response to his question, it was also a reassurance to myself. I’m okay and I will be okay. I won’t let this get me down.
4 Things That Make Traveling with Diabetes Easier
Throughout June and July, I’m going to be a travel fiend. I’ve got plans to travel by plane at least twice, and by car countless times. My trips will vary in length from just a couple hours to eight or nine hours. My head’s spinning just thinking about it, but I’ve got to get it together enough to think about how I can make traveling with diabetes a little bit easier. Given my past travel experience, I can think of four things that are absolute musts for me to take on any trip…

4. Packing cubes
I always thought packing cubes were a total gimmick…until I actually started using them. I got a set of four for Christmas and they’ve really turned me into a much more efficient packer. They help me visualize the space that will be taken up in my suitcases, and what’s even better is that one of the cube’s is the perfect size for my diabetes supplies. I can fit 15-20 pods, a handful of CGM sensors, various device chargers, alcohol swabs, IV prep wipes, and more into the compact little cube. It’s so much better and more organized than the lame-o gallon-size Ziploc bag that used to store all my diabetes supplies for a trip.
3. My Myabetic backpack
I don’t know how I ever traveled with a purse as opposed to my Myabetic backpack. I can fit way more things into my backpack than I ever could put into my purse, and I love that there are specific compartments in the backpack for certain diabetes supplies. I know exactly where things I might need during a flight are stored, eliminating that panicky feeling I used to get when I would dig frantically through my purse in order to find my tube of glucose or my PDM.
2. Snacks and water
This is an obvious one. In my opinion, traveling with diabetes shouldn’t even be attempted without a refillable water bottle or at least two emergency-low-blood-sugar snacks. Even though it’s basically diabetes 101, I’m guilty of going places without water or snacks…and I’ve always regretted it. There’s not much worse than being in an unfamiliar place and unsure of where the closest food and water is located, especially when dealing with a blood sugar crisis.
1. My CGM
The most important tool in my travel kit is, without a doubt, my CGM. More specifically, my receiver is key, particularly when I’m traveling by air. I am religious about turning my phone off for the duration of a flight (just a weird paranoia thing, don’t judge me), so my receiver becomes my go-to whenever I want a status update on my blood sugar without taking out my meter and kit. It helps me handle any weird blood sugar spikes and drops that occasionally happen when I travel, and it provides me with a peace of mind that makes traveling with diabetes much more bearable.
Brunching with ‘Betes
Confession: I’m a brunch lovin’ millennial who also really hates brunch.
The reason I hate brunch (besides waiting all morning long to eat my first meal, I get hangry) is that it annihilates my blood sugars.

It probably has a lot to do with the aforementioned fact that the timing of a typical brunch is typically not favorable when it comes to my basal rates and insulin-to-carb ratios. On a normal weekday, I’m used to eating breakfast within an hour of waking up. My body and my blood sugars are very much so accustomed to this pattern, so when it’s interrupted, it shouldn’t be any wonder why they don’t respond well.
It’s not that I don’t try. I do everything I can to offset the lateness of a brunch meal by running a temp basal and ordering as low carb as I can. And it seems to work well, up until I get up to leave the table and head home. Often, I find myself correcting two or maybe even three times after brunch, and it’s extremely annoying.
Maybe I could help curb spiking blood sugar by ordering just one mimosa, as opposed to two or even three (or just skip drinking them altogether, but seriously, I’ve had enough mimosas in my life to know how to properly bolus for them). Maybe I could insist to my friends that brunch plans should be earlier and force all of us to wake up early on a weekend morning. Maybe I could skip brunch plans altogether.
But that would be accepting defeat. Just like I refuse to let diabetes ruin any aspect of my life, I won’t let it stop me from enjoying brunch with whomever I please. I’ll figure out how to avoid post-brunch highs, I just know it. It’ll just take a little more time and patience…and several more brunch outings. Yum.
Why It’s Important to Remember That The Doctor Isn’t Always Right
We should always do what medical professionals tell us to do…right?
I mean, why wouldn’t we? They’ve gone through many years of extensive training. They’ve got the education and degree(s) to prove their medical expertise. So why would a patient question a doctor or a nurse when they’re telling them to do something that will improve the patient’s health?
Well, a patient might question a medical professional’s advice when it seems contrary to everything else that the patient’s been told by other, trusted members of their healthcare team.
This is exactly what happened to me when I went to see my primary care doctor a few months ago.
Actually, more specifically, I saw a nurse practitioner who works at my primary care doctor’s practice. I made an appointment with the office because I’d been experiencing some wheeziness that made me think I might have asthma that couldn’t reliably be treated with a rescue inhaler (which is all that I had) on its own. I figured it’d be smart to talk it over with my doctor, or at least someone at his practice, to see if I should start treating my symptoms with another kind of medication or therapy.

My appointment barely lasted 20 minutes. I met with a nurse practitioner who I’d never seen before. I explained how I’d been wheezing the last several days, and how it got worse when I went to lie down in bed at night. Before I could get another word out, she asked me if a rescue inhaler was all I had to use in these situations. I said yes. She proceeded to tell me that rescue inhalers aren’t designed for daily use because, as the name implies, they’re for emergency situations. Then she started telling me about a steroid that she thought I should begin to use twice daily.
I cringed at the word “steroid” because I know that they don’t interact well with my blood sugars. Steroids can make blood sugars go high rapidly, and it can take hours for blood sugar to come back down to normal levels. I told her this, and she shrugged off my concerns by telling me that the inhaled steroid would be going directly to my lungs, not my entire body like a typical steroid. I remember nodding uneasily and asking her how to use the steroid – I wasn’t going to leave the room until I had a satisfactory amount of information on this new, unfamiliar drug.
She told me I’d take it once in the morning and once at night, before brushing my teeth. Apparently, I would need to be careful and remember to rinse my mouth out with water immediately after administering the medication in order to prevent…thrush. (If you’re unfamiliar with that word, it has something to do with oral, yeast, and infection…A.K.A. something that sounds like a nightmare.) That’s when I really became alarmed. I told her that people with T1D are already more susceptible to that kind of infection, and wouldn’t it be a bad idea to even risk it by taking this steroid two times a day? And again, she essentially disregarded my protests and told me I’d be fine as long as I remembered to rinse. Then, she sent the prescription to the local pharmacy and left me in the exam room in a confused daze.
I went to pick up the prescription, but I never used it. I decided to trust my judgment and avoid a steroid that seemed like it would cause more harm than good. I also figured that since the weather had abruptly gotten cold, then perhaps my asthma symptoms would subside before long; in the meantime, I could use my rescue inhaler as necessary. And you know what?
I was right. My breathing was normal again in a matter of days, and I only had to take a few puffs from the inhaler when it was all said and done. My decision to take my health in my own hands was further validated when I went to go see my allergist soon after this ordeal. I told her all about it as we ran through the list of medications that I regularly take. She was incredulous that I was prescribed the steroid in the first place, seeing as my asthma is practically non-existent. To quote her, “You’re (meaning me) already sweet enough, you don’t need this steroid or a risk of thrush!”
That remark alone sealed it for me: I did what I thought was best because I knew I was capable of making a decision about my body; nobody knows myself better than me…even a medical professional.
