TSA Diabetes Challenge

I'm in a secret Diabetes Challenge with the TSA. They don't know it. But it's happening.

I'm constantly testing to see how much stuff I can actually get on the plane in the name of diabetes.

Going through security at the airport as a diabetic is a very weird experience. The first few times I was pretty nervous about it. I'd have the letter from my doctor front and center, out of the envelope, fully unfolded. I'd put all my diabetes supplies right on top, my syringes, the mysterious vials of insulin, the oddly sexual looking site injector for my pump. Plus, whatever juice boxes, apple sauce packets, honey packets, all ready to go.

The next part is the controversial 3D body scanners, which I use the D-card for. "Oh no, I'm sorry. I can't walk through that violation of our personal freedoms because I'm a diabetic," flashing them my insulin pump as if it were a badge. Confused, they usually pull me over to the side. I am always pulled over to the side. I have yet to get through security without a pat down or my bags searched.

Because of this, I figured, fuck it. Let's see how much I can get through. Once, I've tried to make it through with a PB&J sandwich, a Chobani yogurt, a pack of almonds, and two apples. Yes, that was all for one flight....that was approximately four hours in duration. I get hungry! The Chobani didn't make it!

This week, I'll be taking a trip out west to Colorado. I'll be visiting a friend who I imagine is missing New York bagels, breads, and pizza pretty hardcore. Of course, being the amazing person I am, I want to bring bagels. But not just any bagels, the best bagels in Astoria, which are Brooklyn Bagels.

This is the challenge! How do I convince a TSA agent, that yes, as a diabetic, I need a half dozen bagels for the trip. No, no sir, juice boxes aren't going to cut. When I have a low blood sugar, I have to shove a bagel or two in my face. Yes, I'm sure. Call my doctor!

Wish me luck. And promise to bail me out TSA jail because I will throw down for these bagels!

Big Dreams....

On days when I'm really distracted (and hungry), I'll plan out meals in my head. I create menus filled with hors d'oeuvres, multiple courses and fancy drinks. I know! I live a wild and crazy life! 

One day, when I grow up, I plan on hosting all my friends for a brunch at my house in the country with my trophy husband and beautiful children. And when that day comes, this is a recipe that I'll make! Which probably isn't true because I would have already made a hundred better pretend recipes in my head and discount this one.
   
This recipe is really quite versatile. It is a pancake-y, crepe-y fruit tart. The great thing about this recipe is that it's elegant looking, you can use any fruit you want, and (if you're actually able to pronounce the name) sound fancy! I had some New York State grown peaches that I wanted to use before they go bad, hence why this is a Cinnamon White Peach Clafouti.

I reduced the amount of sugar in this recipe, but you can add more if you prefer. It's only 30 grams of carbs per serving, which is pretty good for a desserty dish!



I couldn't resist a slice before cutting. Fat kid.



Cinnamon White Peach Clafouti

by Bonnie Graham

Keywords: bake dessert peaches

6029679

Ingredients

• 3 eggs, lightly beaten
• 4 packets Truvia or 1/4 c sugar
• 3/4 c whole wheat pastry flour
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 c milk
• 1 tbsp melted margarine or butter
• 1/8 tsp salt
• 2 ripe white peaches

Instructions

1. Lightly beat eggs and sugar together. Add the milk and slowly incorporate the melted butter.

2. Slowly add your flour and salt. You don't want to overmix the batter as you want it to be light and airy.

3. Let the batter sit for 30 minutes.

4. In the meantime, preheat overn to 350 degrees.

5. Slice and core your peaches (or whatever fruit you are using).

6. Place pears in a greased pie pan and pour the batter on top of the fruit. Some of the fruit will float to the top while baking so don't worry too much about how you scatter them.

7. Bake for 35 - 40 minutes or until clafouti is set and slightly browned on top

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Date with a Doctor

I had a date with a doctor this week.
He didn't know it.
But we were definitely on it together.

I saw my endocrinologist this past week. On Valentine's Day. Isn't he so romantic? In honor of V-Day, Dr. McDreamy gave me one of the best presents a (diabetic) girl could ask for, a lower a1c! Yippee!

The last time I had my a1c checked, I was disappointed. I had gone up remarkably from a 6.1 to a 7.2. The combination of broken insulin pumps, bad insulin, summer vacation, and the stress of trying to single-handedly hold together a relationship probably had a lot to do with that dramatic increase in numbers. Stress does REdiculous things to your blood sugar!

I am pleased to announce that this past Thursday, I had an a1c of 6.4! 6.4, mofos!

It was all I could to do to stop myself from swiping McDreamy's belongings off of his desk in classic Grey's Anatomy style!

But then I would have had to pick it all up.

Before being escorted out of the building by security.

Snack Pack

Isn't there something about smelling other people's delicious food that makes you want to eat EXACTLY what they're eating IMMEDIATELY?!

This has become a regular experience for me in the last few months. My yoga teacher training happens to take place above a Panera Bread and Starbucks. While normally I bring my own food, there is something about watching other people drink their lattes and eat their soup out of a bread bowls that I can't resist!

One item that I have been a frequent consumer of is Starbucks' Protein Bistro Box. This box contains
a hard boiled egg, cheddar cheese, honey peanut butter spread, multi grain bread, apples and grapes. Sounds like just the thing a diabetic needs when doing 6 straight hours of yoga, right? 

Starbucks' Protein Bistro Box

Except it costs seven dollars. Seven dollars?! Yes, seven dollars! For essentially something I can make myself for 50 cents. Okay, maybe not 50 cents, but definitely for significant less then $7.

Challenge......accepted!

Here is my version of the Protein Bistro Box.

Isn't it cute?

My version of the Protein Bistro Box contains:
1 Jonagold apple - $.65
1 hard-boiled egg - $.25
1/4 c roasted peanuts - $.25 (though I could just as easily put in a couple of tablespoons of peanut butter)
2 slices of 2% milk cheddar cheese - ~$.75
1 Grab & Go Orange Oatmeal Cupcake - ~ $.75

For a whopping grand total of $2.65.

Take that Starbucks!

Enough Already....

I know what you must be thinking, "Really, Bonnie? Another baked good?" There's something moderately uncomfortable about having a diabetic force so many baked goods down your throat, right?

But it's the holidays!

That's pretty much my excuse for everything. 

"You're really going to eat that, drink that, buy that, wear that?" It's the holidays! I'm milking it for at least two more days and I won't hesitate to try to use it through the new year.

So enjoy these....because it's the holidays!

Eggnog Scones

by Bonnie Graham

Cook Time: 20 - 22 minutes

Keywords: bake breakfast dessert eggnog Christmas

6038956

Ingredients (8 scones)

• 1 c eggnog (I used Lite Trader Joe's)
• 1 t lemon juice
• 1 c whole wheat white flour
• 1 1/2 c all purpose flour
• 1/2 c sugar/Truvia
• 1 1/2 tbsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1/4 tsp cream of tartar
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 3/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
• 6 tbsp coconut oil
• Glaze:
• 1/2 c powdered sugar
• 1 tbsp eggnog
• few shakes of nutmeg

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Combine eggnog and lemon juice and set aside.

3. In a large mixing bowl, combine flours, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, cream of tartar, nutmeg, and salt.

4. Add coconut oil and mix until the mixture is uniform and coarse in texture.

5. Add in eggnog. Stir until a dough forms. Mixture may be a bit crumbly.

6. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured board and form into a round circle, approximately 10 inches in diameter and 1 1/2 inches high. Cut into equal wedges (as many as you'd like) Transfer scones to a baking sheet.

7. Bake for 20-22 minutes until scones are set.

8. Meanwhile, prepare glaze by combing all ingredients in a small bowl and mixing until it comes to a drizzly consistency. Let scones cool and then serve drizzled with icing.

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Cookie Exchange

There's something just wrong with the concept of a cookie exchange and being diabetic. Not only does it require me to make my own batch of cookie, but then I need to sample everyone elses' cookies too!

Oh dear insulin pump, how overworked you must be!

A cookie exchange was agreed upon at my office for this holiday season. Which sounds like fun. If you have a functioning pancreas. Otherwise, it sounds like High Blood Sugar City!

Shockingly, I struggled with finding an appropriate cookie recipe. It's shocking because just about everywhere you look there is a friggin' cookie recipe. Let me clarify. I struggled with finding an appropriate diabetic cookie recipe. You know, one that actually would still be appetizing to my co-workers and not just to my blood glucose meter. One that I wouldn't have to empty my insulin pump in order to eat. That kind of cookie.

After scroll through recipes that used cups of sugar, sticks of butter, or the ever unpleasant alternative of Splenda, I said fuck it and just picked a recipe.

But, of course, it can't be that easy. It's never that easy. I started with one cookie recipe, Fudgey Nutella Cookies with Sea Salt. They turned into flat little pancakes. Not good. The next recipe was Almond Florentine Cookies, which didn't initially look promising; however, they turned out to be quite good. BUT there wasn't enough of them the cookie exchange. Recipe can be found here.

I panicked and finally whipped up these bad boys, Chai-Spiced Eggnog Cookies.

Now, I totally have a Sugar Hangover.

Chai-spiced Eggnog Cookies

by Bonnie Graham

Keywords: bake dessert cinnamon coconut oil cookie winter

6038642

Ingredients (24 cookies)

• 1/3 c coconut oil
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 c all-purpose flour
• 3/4 tsp ground cinnamon
• 3/4 tsp ground ginger (optional)
• 3/4 tsp ground cloves
• 1 tsp ground cardamom
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 c eggnog, plus 1 - 2 tbsp (depending on consistency)
• 1/2 c powdered sugar, sifted

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 350°F.

2. Mix oil with sugar and vanilla in a medium bowl until well blended. 3. Stir in flour, spices and salt until just combined.

4. Add in eggnog and mix until combined, having the dough be slightly sticky.

5. Scoop and roll dough into small teaspoon-sized balls and place about an inch apart on parchment paper-lined baking sheets.

6. Bake until lightly golden, 15 to 20 minutes.

7. Cool on the sheet for 5 minutes. Roll warm cookies in powdered sugar and let cool completely on a rack.

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Diabetes Police

It is always with hesitation I put up posts that talk about some of the silly/stupid things I might do as a diabetic. Usually the hesitation revolves around the involvement of the Diabetes Police. Dundundun They're kind of like the Fashion Police, only their job is to tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing as a diabetic. It should be mentioned that they are usually not diabetics.

Most of the time, people make comments either out of concern or just plain ignorance. I need to constantly remind myself of that. And, most of the time, I have patience for it. In fact, I like to explain why I can eat what I'd like as long as take insulin, why it's possible for me to get Type 1 at 28, and that high and low blood sugar is just the name of the game in this crazy, messed up world of diabetes.

But sometimes...every once in a while....it really pisses me the fuck off. Can you see where this post is heading?

With the holidays here and parties galore, the Diabetes Police are out in full force. Those who feel the need to comment on what I am eating, how I am eating, and what I should be doing about it. For anybody who thinks that I am not fully aware of what the impact of eating, drinking, blood sugars, and all the rest, you are a fucking asshole! 

Trust me. I know. I'm aware.

But I still need to live my life. And living my life means I may not be the perfect diabetic. It means I forget to bring juice boxes everywhere I go, may not eat a strict low carb diet, and my blood sugar occasionally gets out of range. I'm going to eat an occasional slice of cake, have high blood sugar, have low blood sugar, and occasionally forget a honey packet all while keeping my baby toes, legs, and vision.

It also means that, 90% of the time, I skip the bread at meals. I test my blood sugar multiple times a day. I always take my insulin. I exercise. I carry something with me to treat lows. I take care of myself.

All without the help of the Diabetes Police!

So....are you a member of the Diabetes Police?
Think about it. 

No Soup?

I can remember a time back in high school where I dined at some "fancy" restaurant with a group of friends. I think it was Uno's. After reading the menu, I was so excited to order the Baked Potato Soup. As soon as I saw it, my decision was made. My menu was closed. I waited anxiously for the waitress to come take our order.

Everyone went around the table, ordering their lame burgers and gross deep-dish pizza. When it was my turn, I enthustiacally said "I'll have the Baked Potato Soup please!" The waitress said there was no soup that day. "No soup?" I asked, deflated. The entire table burst into laughter. They equated my reaction to that of a child who just lost their puppy, completely heartbroken. I don't remember what I actually ordered that night, but I do remember that there was no soup!

Needless to say, I have a crazy ridiculous enthusiasm for soup. In fact, I've been told its one of my best qualities! When the weather changes, I probably eat soup every day.

But wait, a diabetic posting a potato soup recipe? That seems unholy! Poor Mr. Potatohead gets a bad rep when it comes to carbohydrates. Potatoes are still vegetables, my friends. And while they may be more carb heavy then say...baby carrots...there is still a place for them (in moderation) for a low-carb diet. 

Creamy Potato-Kale Soup

by Bonnie Graham

Cook Time: 35 - 40 minutes

Keywords: soup/stew potato kale

6037910

Ingredients (4 - 6 servings)

• 2 tsp olive oil
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 1 - 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 2 tsp fresh thyme
• 4 – 5 medium potatoes, diced - I used Yukon Gold.
• ½ c white wine
• 3 ½ c vegetable broth
• 2 c kale, finely chopped
• salt and pepper

Instructions

1. Heat oil in a large pot. Add the onion over medium-heat. Stir every minute or so, until soft and lightly golden.

2. Stir in garlic and thyme until fragrant, about a minute or two.

3. Add chopped potatoes and sauté for a few minutes.

4. Add the white wine and deglaze, making sure to scrap all the brown bits from the bottom of the pot.

5. Add veggie broth. Bring to a boil. Cover and reduce heat to simmer for about 20min.

6. Stir in chopped kale, desired amount of salt and pepper if needed, and simmer for 10min.

7. Remove from heat. Using an immersion blender, puree your soup to desired consistency.

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The Lowest Low

I like to think that I have already had my lowest low. The low so low that you never want to be low again. That's how low your lowest low is. In case you didn't catch it....it's pretty low.

When I was diagnosed, my first night in the hospital, I experienced my very first  hypoglycemic episode. My head was spinning. My brain slowed down. My body didn't cooperate. Nearly passing out, my entire body tingled. I did a very dangerous thing that night.

I waited.

Not knowing what was going on or what to do, the whole concept of hypoglycemia as a life-threatening event being completely new to me, I waited. The nurses were doing regular checks each hour and I figured that she would come eventually. Rookie mistake. 

I have quickly learned that hypoglycemia is not something that you wait to treat. The longer you wait, the shittier you feel and more dangerous it becomes. I think this is in part to the "slow down," where my brain slows to the point where stringing together a coherent sentence becomes increasingly difficult as though I am a recovering stroke victim. My only diabetic friend says that she knows she's in trouble when she finds herself staring at the same box of cereal for an uncertain amount of time.

Occasionally, I read blogs written by other diabetics. Some of these bloggers talk about lows so low that other people might need to intervene to help them treat their hypoglycemia. Posts like that make me nervous.  I felt pretty cocky content that I haven't needed help to treat a low. That was until I realized that I was lying to myself.

This realization happened the other night. Jerry and I had been out drinking, which is always tricky at the end of the night since alcohol may initially cause a high blood sugar but drop my levels later on. I'm not sure which happened first, Jerry getting out of bed to use the bathroom or my waking up sweaty and shaking.

When Jerry got back from the bathroom, I asked him to get my tester from the living room. Through bleary, sleepy eyes, I held my shaking finger to the test strip. Before I had even heard the familiar beep of my meter announcing my low, Jerry was standing there with an apple sauce packet in his hands.

Could I have gotten up and retrieved my tester myself? Yes. Did it help that he was there? Certainly.

It definitely doesn't reach the level of not being able to get out of bed and needing someone there to guide my arm to my mouth, but it counts as an intervention, as help.

Ebb and Flow

Ebb and flow.

Isn't it strange when several, completely unrelated people share similar sentiments that so perfectly fit your present life? Maybe it's this whole hippie-dippie yoga thing rubbing off on me, but the concept of "ebb and flow" has recently become a theme in my life.

While I can expound on how this theme is so perfectly playing itself out in several areas of my life, I am going to narrow this post to a recent experience I had at a Certified Diabetes Educator (CDE) appointment.

Remember back in September when I had a zen approach to my 7.2 a1c, a number that would have previously sent me into hysterics, I was somehow able to take that number in stride, recognizing that I will have a million a1c tests in my lifetime and I can't fall apart every time one comes back higher then I want.

Right.

How quickly that fell apart in the CDE's office last week. While I didn't get a new a1c test done, we reviewed the data from my insulin pump. Which seemed horrendous. I had thought that my numbers were better. That I had been more in line with my blood sugar goals. As we looked through the list of numbers, I saw more 180's, 190's and 200's then I had expected.

I could feel my heart sink in my chest.

When I said to the CDE "I thought I was doing better" and repeated several times throughout the appointment how disappointed I was, she assured me that I was looking at skewed data. That most of the numbers on the insulin pump are going to seem high because that's when I will use it most. I won't plug my blood sugar numbers into the pump if I am in range. There's no reason to.

Regardless of all the perfectly logically reasons why numbers appeared so high on that sheet, I was feeling pretty shitty. I tried to remind myself of that zen feeling from only a few months ago. Reassure myself that I am getting back on track and that my a1c will be lower when I test again in December. That "doing better" isn't just about numbers on a page.

Sometimes things will be better. And sometimes they won't. And chances are, even when things seem rough, that better times will return. It's just the ebb and flow.

What Do You Do....

...when the power goes off and you have 12 vials of insulin in the fridge?

I may have mentioned before that insulin needs to be kept cold otherwise it will degrade and become less effective, becoming altogether useless. Jerry and I were a little arrogant when preparing for Hurriance Sandy, in that we didn't really prepare at all. Sure, we filled up a few water bottles, had plenty of food, knew we had flashlights somewhere in the apartment, but I think we assumed that we would maintain power and go on our merry ways. I'm sure that's what most people assume....up until the moment the lights go out.

I was hopeful naive in thinking that the power would be out only for a short time. Five days later, we're still sitting in the dark.

My first thought when the lights went out was "What do I do with all my insulin?" Actually, my first though was "Shit, I just made pumpkin mousse and now it's going to go bad." Priorities, people.

I had just received a three month shipment of insulin which means that every single vial I will need for the next three months was in a slowly warming fridge. You think that in all of our "extensive" planning, I would have thought through what to do with these extremely valuable, life-saving vials.

Luckily, Jerry's brother maintained power and has been able to baby-sit my insulin until we can give them a good home again. I'm worried that they still have become too warm in the 24 hours without power, but I guess I'll have to wait and see.

Hi, I'm Bonnie and I'm a Diabetic.....

On the first day of yoga teacher training, we were paired off as an icebreaker to get to know one another. The person you were paired with was the one was going to introduce you to the rest of the group and then vice versa. Because of the odd number of students, we had three in our group. 

As we went around asking each other where we were from and what we did as our day jobs, I wondered if I should share that I am type 1 diabetic. Do I introduce myself as though I'm at an Alcoholic Anonymous meeting? Hi, I'm Bonnie and I'm a diabetic? Would a purpose be served in sharing this information? 

I am really of two minds about it. One mind feels like this is private information that a room full of strangers don't necessarily need to know. I'm not embarrassed or ashamed. Hell, I don't even mind questions, but no one else seems to announce any of their preexisting health conditions. Right? 

The other mind says that it could be useful information in this setting. It's a safety issue, really. Any person involved in the teaching and training of others in a physical way should be aware of these health conditions, what issues might come up in class, and why it's good to know. I will be telling all the instructors so they know why I walk away from my mat in the middle of a Sun Salutation to eat applesauce. Another reason to share is that I like being an advocate for diabetes awareness, especially type 1, since so few seem to have accurate information about it. 

As time ticked down on our ice-breaker in class, the decision needed to be made on whether or not to share. I decided against it. I figured it would all come out in time. After all, I wear my pump during class, keep honey packets by my mat, and frequently check my blood sugar. Some smartypants will put it together.   At some point, when I actually know all these people's names, it will be a no-brainer. 

Until then....hi, I'm Bonnie and I like yoga. 

My Diabetes Anniversary

Happy Anniversary, Diabetes. You've entered my life two years ago and I haven't been able to shake you since. Just like a case of herpes. 

I've had this blog for almost two years and have never posted the full story of my diagnosis. Initially, it was just too hard to write. As time ticked by and diabetes became a normal part of my everyday life, it just wasn't something that I thought about anymore. And now....now I see the importance of it. If the point of this blog is help out a newly diagnosed twentysomething year old, it would be good for them to know where I started. 

Sit back and relax. This is a long one. 

The day before I was diagnosed with diabetes, Jerry and I won a pie competition. We kicked some pie ass with our Vermont Death Pie (aka Maple Bacon Praline Apple Pie, say that three times fast!). We competed against 35 other pies – almost all of which I personally sampled. It was delicious! It was awesome! It was ironic!

Earlier that day, assuming I was spending the day perfecting our pie, Jerry called to check in. I answered the phone in tears...from my bed. Looking back at it now, I am not sure if it was pure exhaustion or the frustration of insatiable thirst and hunger. Feeling much like a cranky, overwhelmed child, I put myself down for a nap like any good parent would. 

The truth was I hadn’t felt well for quite a while. On a nightly basis, I was alternately awoken by painful muscle cramps or a gut-busting need to pee! No matter how much I slept, I was exhausted. No matter how much I drank, I was thirsty. No matter how much I ate, I was starving! My body felt heavy. My limbs were weak. I was losing weight without even trying.

Despite all of this, I was far from thinking that I was diabetic. After all, I was young, healthy, ate well and exercised regularly. Sure, I knew how I was feeling wasn’t normal, but diabetes? Isn't that just for overweight people who eat too much candy?

My primary care physician called me the day after the pie competition to inform that I was, in fact, diabetic. I immediately burst into tears. She had little information to offer me. Not sure how someone at the age of 28 could possibly Type 1, she assumed I was Type 2. She suggested I stay away from sweets and make an appointment with an endocrinologist the following week. This was on a Friday afternoon. 

I spent the rest of the weekend in diabetic limbo, scouring the internet for answers. Which only made my head explode! Questions swirled around my head. What should I eat? What should I avoid? What did this mean for my future health? What did it mean for when I wanted to get pregnant? We spent the weekend at a full-day beer festival. What better way to drown your sorrows?

By the time Jerry's birthday came around a few days later, my untreated diabetes had hit its lowest point. I felt absolutely awful. I was exhausted, in pain, barely able to focus. The night ended with me in a crying heap, not really sure what life was going to look like.

When I first called the endocrinologist my PCP recommended, I was told I had to wait a month for an appointment. A MONTH! Are you fucking kidding me? Which is exactly what I said to the nurse on the phone. She was not too pleased, but considering my circumstances, she took pity on me and got me an appointment for the following week. Within 5 minutes, she had called me back, stating that the doctor just looked at my test results and wanted me to come in tomorrow. That couldn't be good.

When I saw the endocrinologist the next day, my blood sugar was immediately taken, 491. Was that bad? I didn’t even know. The doctor, in a matter-of-fact way, said “I’m sorry but you’re a type 1 diabetic. Your blood sugar is almost 500. This is not something that can be treated on an outpatient basis.” Through tears, I asked what that meant. She said “I need to send you to the Emergency Room where you will be admitted to the hospital.”

I spent the next 8 hours in the emergency room waiting for a room to open up. I was immediately put on IV fluids and given shots of insulin. It was surreal. I kept looking over at mother, who was with me at the appointment, and repeatedly said “I’m so sorry, Mommy” not even sure what I was apologizing for. I had started my day any other way, ate breakfast, drove to work and had a couple of meetings before heading to a doctor’s appointment on my lunch break. My day ended in a bleak hospital room, blood testing every two hours, an IV in the arm, feelings of absolute helplessness, anxiety, exhaustion, and depression. This is my life now? How did this happen so quickly?

Once everyone emptied out of my hospital room, I started to cry. And I couldn't stop.

I was inconsolable. Several concerned nurses tried to talk to me, but the mix of sadness and exhaustion prevented me from saying anything other then, “I’m okay. Don’t want to talk,” I cried until I fell asleep, realizing that my life was forever changed.

I spent the next three days completing a crash course in Diabetes Survival 101 and learning a new, unfamiliar language. Information came in waves. Totally lost, completely overwhelmed, I was discharged from the hospital to start this new adventure. At that time, I assumed life was over. I had stopped thinking about the future, because in my depressed mind, one just didn't exist anymore.

When I think back over the last two years, I really am proud of how far I've come. Life didn't end. It just looks a little different now.

The Little Post that Could

Ever since Jerry and I started dating, despite all of the other wonderful contributions I have made to his life, I have been a curse to his birthday.

The first year we were dating, I was diagnosed with diabetes, felt like shit all through his birthday dinner, and was hospitalized the very next day. Welcome to 30! Weeeee!

The second year, we weren't dating at all. We had broken up just days before his birthday. Fun stuff. 

This year....well, this year, I wasn't completely sure that we would make it to his birthday either. I have neglected to post any updates on our move and living together, mostly, because it's kind of sucked. The adjustment of living together in combination with some relationship issues we hadn't quite worked through had made those first few months not fun ones.

After several months of being bogged down in so much negativity, we hit our breaking point. If it hadn't been for our already planned trip to Spain, I probably would have been packing my bags. I'm glad I didn't. 

I am thankful for our trip to Spain for so many reasons, the most of which is the renewed energy and hope I gained in our relationship. Once all that shit was put aside, I saw the man I love. Hiding behind a cloud of his own noxious gas. But still...he was there.

And now I am here. Celebrating the birthday of the guy who exudes excitement over the smallest things, who has an endearing playfulness and humor, who offers to help strangers when most of us would probably just walk on by.

Relationships are not easy. Living together is even more challenging.

I'm not sure where our crazy lives are leading us, but I sure am glad you've been around for part of mine. And that I can be here for part of yours.

Happy Birthday, my dear. To many more, less-cursed birthdays. 

Mixed Emotions

Today, I had an appointment with my Endocrinologist.

I usually have a fair amount of anxiety before each of my endo appointments. While I would normally joke that it's because of my high school crush on my doctor, it really is because I'm never quite sure what my numbers are going to look like. I usually get a full panel of blood work done prior to each appointment so we can go over the results.

Well, not this time.

This time, I knew that the numbers weren't going to be where I would like them. When the nurse asked if I wanted to have an a1c done in the office, I begrudgingly agreed. I had a sense it would be the 7.0 range. Which is why I shouldn't feel too disappointed to find out that it's 7.2 Up significantly from my last 6.1.

But I am disappointed. Sort of.

I am disappointed by the overall number. Obviously. But there are a few things that make it not seem so bad. First, I had an awesome summer filled with weekend trips and a seriously amazing vacation. I ate and drank what I pleased, knowing that there may have been some diabetes consequences. I probably didn't check as often as I should, ate things I probably shouldn't have, and enjoyed myself. It's not like I let things get wildly out of control. I was a little lax. It happens. Maybe I'll figure out a better balance....next summer.

The other thing that I am kind of impressed with is my reaction to that number. Normally, I would have been on the phone to my sister, a blubbering mess about how I am going to die young because my a1c was a 6.8 instead of a 6.5. I would start rattling off all of the possible complications I would get now that my a1c has increased.

This time....no blubbering. No catastrophizing. No hysterical phones calls to....well, anyone really.

I don't want people to assume that I am not taking this increase seriously. Because I am. But I also have come to the realization that I will be diabetic for the rest of my life. I will have thousands of a1c tests. Some will be amazing and I'm sure some will not be. I can't cry over every bad number. I can't worry about every possible complication that can come of me. Life would be pretty bleak if I did that.

What I can do is come up with a plan.

The plan is:

• Begin to test my blood sugar 6 to 8 times a day - I've fallen off of this a bit
• Monitor and measure my food - The summer has put me off this habit. Time to get back on it.
• Food-logging - I always say I'll do this and then don't
• Mark the dates of my insulin - I definitely haven't kept track of when my insulin expires, causing me to have a few days with shitty insulin and high numbers
• Make an appointment with the CDE - already done!

6.1, I'm coming for you!

Doctors, Diabetes, and Diagnosis

On my third day back to work, I came down with the longest lasting stomach flu ever. EVER.

The first day of this flu was pretty terrible. I had a fever, full body aches and chills all the while crapping my brains out for what seemed like every hour on the hour. The second day, I felt better, but couldn't be more then 25 feet from the bathroom. By the third day, I should have swallowed my stubbornness and gone to the doctor. But I didn't.

Which is why I found myself at the Urgent Care Clinic on Saturday morning, complete with headache, chills, and body aches. Oh, and that whole bathroom thing.

I recited all my symptoms to the Nursing Assistant and then included, "Oh, and I'm a type 1 diabetic." Little reaction.

The doctor comes in for a repeat of all symptoms, to which he suggested that I start drinking Pedialyte. Assuming he had read the chart, I pointed out that I was a type 1 diabetic, thinking that they're had to be something better then Pedialyte for me to drink.

"How long have you been a diabetic? Since birth?"
"No, I was diagnosed two years ago."
He grimaces and I think, "Oh lord, here it comes."
"What made them arrive at the conclusion that you were type 1?"
"Ummm, the whole needing insulin to live thing probably pointed them in the right direction. Having this insulin beeper strapped to my side doesn't hurt either!" is what I should have said.
What I actually said is "I wear an insulin pump," a little dumbfounded that this doctor who knows absolutely nothing of my medical history is questioning my diagnosis.
"But type 1 occurs in childhood."
"And apparently when you're 28."

One of the most annoying things in dealing with medical professionals is this constant battle over what doctors think they know about diabetes. How rigid (and out of date) their knowledge is about it. Under the age of 18, must be type 1. Over the age 18, must be type 2. What's worse is this arrogance that somehow they're going to diagnosis me better then my endocrinologist who specializes in type 1, two years of blood work, blood sugar testing, insulin pumps, and a1c results.

Yes, you doctor, who I have only seen for two minutes are correct in assuming that all other medical professionals I have seen in the last two years are wrong. You must be right that I'm too old to have type 1 diabetes and I should just diet and exercise. Now that that whole diabetes thing is settled, can we talk about this shitting my brains out and pesky fever now?

Asshole.

Running Through It

I'm referring to my insulin.

While I mentioned in my post about travelling that one needs to accept that they may use more insulin when on vacation, I wasn't exactly mentally prepared for it. Sure, sure, I sounded all calm and zen about it. I know I'm going to have more high blood sugars. I know I'm going to use more insulin. I know I'm going to possibly have a low in the middle of a massive tomato fight filled with a bunch of Europeans. Yes, yes, I know, I know. It's all fine.

Until it happens.

I heard the familiar beep of my insulin pump, alerting me to a low reservoir (aka running out of insulin). The pump usually gives me a 20 unit warning, meaning that I'm not going to die in the next few minutes. It usually takes me about a day to run through a full 20 units. Apparently, that's not true when I'm travelling in Spain.

You want to hear another funny insulin thing about travelling in Spain? Okay!

I fill my reservoirs up to about the same amount of insulin each time, roughly 80 to 90 units. That usually lasts me three to four days. I've even stretched it to five (unintentionally). In Spain, I barely made it to three days. While supplies are definitely not an issue, it just isn't something I'm use to.

Overall, diabetes had not been a downer on this trip. There were moments where I was annoyed with diabetes or disappointed with numbers, but they were also just that. Moments. Fleeting thoughts that were only dwelled upon until the next glass of Sangria. Which came often.

I was on vacation. In beautiful places. Eating amazing food. I gave myself this vacation.

Travelin', Diabetic-Style

I'm a wicked over packer, but my diabetes brings it to a whole new level! When I go on vacation, I have enough diabetes supplies to keep me alive for 6 months! Great news in case of a zombie apocalypse!

Since I've been doing a lot of travelling this summer,  I thought I'd share with you my Diabetes Travel Tips.

1a. Always bring extra. I bring double the amount I think I'll need when I'm going away with a few speciality items thrown in for ha-ha's. I usually pack syringes, a back-up glucose tester, and even an extra insulin pen (just in case something goes wrong with my pump).
1b. If using a pump, check with the pump manufacturer about a loaner program for travel. Medtronic offers a travel loaner pump for the low bargain price of $50. Well worth it if you think about being stuck in another country and your pump malfunctions.

2. Always have a way to treat low blood sugar. Most people ask why I don't just carry juice with me. One reason is because drinking a warm juice that's been sitting in my purse for the last week is a little gross. The second reason is that having a juice box explode all of your bag really fucking sucks! Because of that, I like to steal honey packets from Starbucks and sneak myself the fun treat of Annie's Fruit Bunnies!!! Tropical Flavor! Ooooo!

3. Play the diabetic card when it comes to snacking. I always play the diabetic card when it comes to bringing snacks on an airplane! I need food, people! I like to pack snacks with and without carbs, like carrots, celery, and granola bars. You may notice the carb count written in Sharpie on the ziplock bags. I portioned out from larger boxes the correct serving size so I knew how many carbs were in each item. You may call this anal. I call it organized!

4. Be prepared to check blood sugar more frequently. Airplanes do wonky things to my blood sugar. So does ingesting large quantities of tapas and Sangria. Which also leads to...

5. Accepting that you may have need more insulin then usual.

6. A letter from my doctor is a must. Not that having a insulin filled beeper strapped to my side or a carry-on bag filled with syringes and insulin viles isn't enough to let TSA know that I have a medical condition, a letter from my doctor is pretty hard for knuckleheads working at the airport to dispute.

7. Think about where you're going and develop a plan. And not just in that day-dreamy "I can't wait to be sippin' on Sangria" kind of way. More in a "Will I be close to medical care in the event something goes wrong?" kind of way. Not nearly as fun and sexy, but a definite must. Are you travelling state-side? Are you going camping? Or are you going international? Can you speak the language well enough to get needed medical attention? Are you traveling with someone who knows enough about your diabetes to explain it if you aren't able to? Again, not fun stuff, but important!

8. Have personal medical information written in the language of the country you'll be visiting. Diabetes isn't something that one can easily explain through hand-gestures. It's best to have something written out in the doctor's own language. If there is a reason to seek medical care on vacation, you don't want to add to the drama by not articulating your pre-existing condition.

9. Write down your pump settings or insulin injection doses. I did this on the way to the airport and put it in several places. Just in case something goes wrong with my pump or if Jerry needed to communicate by dosage needs in case I wasn't able too.

10. Adjust for time differences. I always forget when I travel into different time zones to change the time on my pump. The same applied when I was using pens. When I was using Lantus, I had to adjust for the time change.

11. Remember that diabetes doesn't have to run or ruin a trip. It's just something that's there.

Pity Party

I'm home from work today. And not for a good reason.

Sadly, I'm sick.

The problem with being sick, besides its obvious suckiness, is that it has a way of throwing your blood sugar through a loop. Illness can cause blood sugar to spike for no apparent reason other then your body just wanting to fuck with you. The problem with high blood sugar, besides its obvious suckiness, is that it can cause you to become dehydrated. Which is probably the worst thing to be when you're sick since it inhibits your immune system.

And when I say "your," I mean "my". The diabetic in this conversation.

What had started last week as a sore throat has now turned into a full body ache. It sucks. I'm not a happy camper, especially considering that I had this whole exercise/diet plan for this week in preparation for Spain. So far, that's in the crapper since I have little desire to get out of bed right now, but do seem to have an all-consuming desire to eat everything chocolate!

What's the old adage say....starve a fever, feed a cold chocolate-peanut baked oatmeal for breakfast?

Well...it does now.

Chocolate-Peanut Butter Baked Oatmeal

by Bonnie Graham

Cook Time: 18 - 20 minutes

Keywords: bake breakfast snack vegetarian oats peanut butter

6031124

Ingredients (1 large serving)

• 1/2 c rolled oats
• 1/4 tsp pure vanilla extract
• 1/4 c apple sauce
• 1/4 c milk
• 1 - 2 packets Truvia or 4 tsp sugar of choice
• 1/8 tsp salt
• 1 tbsp cocoa powder
• 1-2 tbsp peanut butter
• Optional: chocolate chips

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

2. Combine all ingredients and mix well. Melt peanut butter in microwave for easier mixing.

3. Pour into a greased ramekin or a mini-loaf pan. Cook for 18 to 20 minutes, until it gets firm.

4. Optional - Set your oven to broil for 2 more minutes, or until it reaches desired crispness (broiling gives it a nice crust).

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August Challenge Page

Okay, I've been yammering on about my countdown to Spain, my need to get back into shape, blahblahblah and all that good stuff. We leave for Spain in exactly three weeks.

THREE WEEKS!!

Which means I need to get a jump on things. This past week, I've gotten back into the habit of going to the gym (going 5 days out the last 7 and taking a 9-mile hike). I definitely feel good about that.

However, my eating has not followed suit. I'd like to think it's because I've been doing this whole Tata Exposing countdown in stages, the first being exercise and the second being diet.

But that would be total bullshit. I'm just a fat kid.

This week, I hope to change that. One way I hope to do that is to hold myself accountable using this blog. I've created a new page dedicated to the "challenge" of the next three weeks, which I'll use as a food/exercise log.

A hopeful by-product of such a page will also be better blood sugar control. While my blood sugars have been okay, they haven't necessarily been great. I've had a lot more high blood sugars then I'd like in the last month or two. In fact, I'm a little concern that my A1c will be higher when I go for my endo appointment in September. While I accept that this is the natural biorhythm of being a diabetic, it doesn't necessarily feel good.

Of course, I don't expect anyone else to be interested in my daily diet.

But that's why this is my blog. And not yours. :)