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?

WHAT THE...BEEP!
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.

Advertisements

The Amazing Flying CGM!

I reached into the front pocket of my sweatshirt. My tube of glucose was there, but nothing else…oh, shit.

My CGM receiver was gone.

“C’mon, pup, we’ve gotta find it,” I said to my canine companion, Clarence. He was all too happy to oblige as we sprinted back up the street to find my receiver.

It couldn’t have gone far…

My anxious eyes scanned all around our surroundings. Surely, my CGM’s bright pink case would pop against the dull browns, grays, and greens that painted the wet landscape.

Where WAS it?

Did I actually leave my house with it in the first place? Or was it still sitting atop my nightstand with my glucometer?

All I knew was that I’d better find it soon…or the chances of it getting run over by a car going at least 40 mph were very good.

cgm
Have you ever had your CGM (or any other diabetes device) take off in flight?

Not here, not there…

Really, Clarence, it’d be great if you could help me look for it rather than pick up sticks…

Dammit, what am I going to do if it’s gone for good…

“AHA!” I triumphantly said out loud as I spotted the neon pink rectangle, nestled on a patch of damp earth. I tugged Clarence, who was just focused on sniffin’ and walkin’ as a young puppy would be, over to where my CGM was lying face-down. It was almost like it was too exhausted to continue on our walk.

Or perhaps it had just wanted to leap free from the confines of my pocket and fly high…just as my blood sugar had that morning. Who knows. I was just glad to have found it. Reunited, I tucked it safely into a different pocket – a zippered one, this time – and continued my walk with my happy puppy.

 

Must Be Hypo, Super Low

Today’s blog post is part 2 of my re-imagining of two classic Christmas carols! Last week’s rendition was all about high blood sugar, so of course, this week has to be about the opposite: low blood sugar, also known as hypos!

This blog post is for my extended family, who will simultaneously appreciate and cringe at my spin on the holiday classic, “Must Be Santa”. Unfamiliar with the tune? Click this link to listen to the original, and maybe even sing along using my oh-so creative lyrics, below!

Must be hypo, super low
Must be Santa – I mean, hypo.

Must be Hypo

Who’s got a blood sugar that’s dropping quick?
I’ve got a blood sugar dropping quick
Who needs a juice box to do the trick?
I need a juice box to do the trick
Dropping quick, do the trick
Must be hypo, must be hypo
Must be hypo, super low
Who’s got too much insulin on board?
I’ve got too much insulin on board
Who has a massive candy hoard?
I have a massive candy hoard
Insulin on board, candy hoard
Dropping quick, do the trick
Must be hypo, must be hypo
Must be hypo, super low
Who’s got a red sweaty face that glows?
I’ve got a red sweaty face that glows
Who is cursing at their CGM, “no, no, no!”
I’m cursing at my CGM, “no, no, no!”
No, no, no, face that glows
Insulin on board, candy hoard
Dropping quick, do the trick
Must be hypo, must be hypo
Must be hypo, super low
Who very soon will come back up?
I very soon will come back up
15 carbs, perhaps a Reese’s cup?
I ate 15 carbs, thanks to my Reese’s cup
Reese’s cup, come back up
No, no, no, face that glows
Insulin on board, candy hoard
Dropping quick, do the trick
Must be hypo, must be hypo
Must be hypo, super low
Must be hypo, must be hypo
Must be hypo, super low
Must be hypo, must be hypo
Must be hypo, super low

 

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)

That Time I Asked Someone to Prove Their Diabetes to Me

It was not my finest moment.

Yes, I doubted someone when they claimed to have diabetes. But there was no ill intent! Let me explain.

I worked at a local movie theater for five and a half years. During that time, I was trained to work the concession stand, sell tickets at the box office, and clean theaters with the ushers. More often than not, I was happiest working in the box office – it was nice and quiet when there weren’t any lines of customers to contend with, but when there were, time flew by as I worked at a frantic pace to get through the line as fast as I could.

One of my responsibilities as a ticket seller was to check to see what people were taking into the theaters with them. Mainly, I was supposed to make sure that outside foods or beverages weren’t making their way into our theaters, for a few reasons: 1) to encourage customers to buy snacks/drinks at our concession stand, 2) to reduce the possibility of customers leaving behind terrible messes for the ushers to clean up, and 3) to help ensure the comfort of other customers – after all, no one particularly enjoys the sharp stench of raw onions or malodorous tuna fish sandwiches.

IMG_7014
You have diabetes? Well, prove it! (At least I didn’t ask the kid to take a shot or show me his pump. That would’ve been over the top.)

So I was merely following protocol on this particular day when I asked a teenage boy to throw away his mysterious styrofoam food container once he entered the lobby. He looked at me, unsmiling, and said, “I have diabetes, I can’t throw it away.”

It’d been a long afternoon dealing with irate customers and pesky teenagers, so I figured he was just being bratty and didn’t want to toss the food he’d clearly just purchased from the mall. This is when I retorted back with, “Oh, really? I have type one diabetes, myself. Do you actually have it, too?”

He nodded. His face was expressionless, which made me even more suspicious. If I’d been in his shoes, I probably would’ve been a bit more emotional/passionate about my need to keep my food with me. His poker face prodded me into asking this next question, which nearly seven or so years later still makes me feel ashamed when I remember it:

“Well, then, show me your medical ID or your meter, or some other diabetes supplies!”

Ugh, I can practically hear my defiant tone. I was so certain I was about to catch a fibber! Alas, the boy lifted his arm to show off the gleaming medical ID hanging from his wrist. Again, he was completely wordless and his face betrayed no emotion – and for a beat, I couldn’t say anything, either…though I felt the blood rushing rapidly into my cheeks as I found my voice again.

“Oh, I’m sorry for the inconvenience. You’re all set to take the food in with you,” I said in a tone much higher for me than normal. I’m pretty sure I smacked my hand to my forehead out of pure embarrassment as he walked away.

To this day, I still can’t help but cringe when I reflect on this interaction that couldn’t have lasted more than two or three minutes. I felt horrible about it, but I guess that the one good thing that came from it is that it taught me to be a little more compassionate when I witness situations like this. Rather than assuming the worst, I should try to see the other side of the coin and view things a bit more rationally.

So to that teenage boy, who I never saw again: Please accept my extremely-belated but utterly sincere apology for that exchange of words.