The Food Diary.

I've always avoided keeping food diaries. Always. There's a guilt that has always accompanied them, for me, so I've always dodged them, focussing my clinic appointments on other aspects of my diabetes care and not the food side of things. My blood sugars aren't exactly horrendous, so keeping my HCPs' eyes on other parts of my health, for the most part, is easy.

I had an appointment with my diabetes team last week. My hba1c wasn't where I wanted it to be, and I was told I'd put on weight. Not a lot, but, much like my hba1c, my weight is personal, and, again, it's not where I want it to be. As per usual, I kept emphasis on my ratios and basal rates, discussed my thyroid medication and my love-hate relationship with exercise.

With no mention of food or diet, I left my appointment and headed back to work before heading away on course the same evening.

It was Saturday evening, when I was sat watching X-Men with a (small) bowl of popcorn on my lap and a (large) glass of wine to my left that I wondered how I got here. I didn't feel hungry, but I was eating the popcorn anyway. And who knows where the glass of wine came from!! (Wine fairy, anyone?!)

That was when I resolved to keep a log of my food intake for a week. Not because I had to, and not because I was being told to by my health care team. But because I wanted to hone back in on my food choices and what I'm eating day to day. Because, it became very clear halfway through my movie that I had no effing idea what was happening day-to-day.

Now I'm coming to the end of my week of food logging, I remember why I don't like it. (Actually, it only took me a couple of days to remember why I don't like it!) It's not a level of accountability I enjoy or embrace, and I still feel guilty for some of my food choices. But (and I say this with SO MUCH reluctance) it's so damn useful. After just a few days, I could see that my coffee intake is shocking (and I can't even say the mug is small to make up for it), and my willpower is fine in the mornings and afternoons, whilst at work, but the moment I get home (or at weekends), I undo what has been, for the most part (let's ignore the caffeine intake) a balanced day of eating.

As insightful an exercise this has been, I'm happy to stop now. I know where the issues are, and I know what I need to do going forward. I'm glad to have made a conscious effort to realign my diabetes, brain and stomach. It's a step in the right direction to (hopefully) get my blood sugars back in check.

Living.

"Let me drive you home, please?"

"I'm fine," I replied, "not low anymore. Not shaky, not dizzy, not feeling weird, and my blood sugar is 7.2mmol. And I've eaten a granola bar. I'm fine."

"Yeah, but..."

"Yeah but what?!" I interrupted. "This is my normal. Lows are something I'm used to, highs are something I'm used to. If I stopped every time...sought help every time...I'd never do anything alone. You've said I need to trust you, you need to trust me too. I live with diabetes every single day, and have done for the last five and a bit years. I know what I'm doing."

"Fine. Text me when you get home, just so I know you haven't flaked on the train and ended up and the end of the train line!"

"I'm not gonna flake out. And if I do, that's what my medic alert's for - hedge my bets!" I was hoping to lighten the mood, but instead my manager just glared at me. "Okay, seriously, I've done some stupid shit, like frozen my insulin, but I'm not stupid enough to try to make it home if my blood sugar's crummy."

"You've frozen your insulin?!"

"Story for another time, boss. See you tomorrow. I'll text you when I'm home."

I know there are times when I'm fiercely independent and far too stubborn, but this was one I wasn't going to back down on.

For the record, I made it home. Which you've probably gathered seeing as I'm blogging about it.

"Conceal, Don't Feel, Don't Let Them Know."

Maybe it's just me, but I feel the need to hide my bad diabetes days from those around me. Maybe it's pride? Not wanting to admit weakness? Not wanting to be seen as weak? Or just different from those around me? All of the aforementioned? More than likely.

Here on this blog, I will write about my bad days. And my good days, for that matter. I feel comfortable doing that here. You're more than likely reading this because you "get" diabetes. Whether you live with it, you're the carer for someone who lives with it, or someone you love has it, you have a level of understanding. 

Those I work with know I have type one diabetes. They know I wear an insulin pump. And they know where to find my medical notes and emergency contact details (a document I drew up myself, and keep in a sealed envelope in my desk drawer). They know about low blood sugars and high blood sugars. 

For the last few months, as you may have gathered from previous blog posts, "high" would be a very good description of where my blood sugar's been at. For me, highs aren't as noticeable as lows. It was easy to plod along and pretend I had my shit together. Telling my manager that I needed to go back to see my consultant four weeks after my last appointment was hard ("You're really good at pretending you've got your shit together!" he said. "Thank you," I replied with smile. "Wasn't meant to be a compliment." Of course, I knew that). I felt like I was admitting defeat, that I couldn't deal with my diabetes on my own. And I know that if it were someone else in my situation, I would tell them to stop being stupid, it's not weakness, etc, etc. But walking my talk has never been something I'm good at. 

Over the past three weeks, I've put a lot of effort into basal testing, checking my insulin to carb ratios, correction factors, the lot. My blood sugars are starting to come down, which has been an interesting adjustment - running high for as long as I have done means I feel hypo at 6mmol. This has also meant that when I have actually been hypo, I've been hit with every hypo symptom: shaking, sweating, no coordination, lack of speech, double vision (manager with two heads, anyone?!) and, my least favourite of all, crying. 

(Painted you a lovely picture there, haven't I?!)

It's these "low moments" when I do everything in my power to hide what's going on.

Source.

Get through the meeting, then treat the hypo. 

Finish responding to my emails, then treat the hypo.

Finish my conversation, then treat the hypo.

Finish [enter other random tasks here], then treat the hypo.

It was after a conference call that my manager (getting ever so more observant) approached me.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," I nodded, not trusting myself to string a full sentence together.

"Do you want to try that again?"

"I'm fine," I replied, proud of my two word sentence and use of a contraction in my hypo state.

"You ought to trademark that response. It's you're go-to," and he handed me a bottle of lucozade.

With shakey hands, I picked the bottle up. The lid had already been unscrewed, and I counted six gulps and waited for my blood sugar to come back up, my manager now sat the opposite side of my desk. 

As my blood sugar came up and my mind began focussing on other things, and not my low, I looked at my manager. 

"Thank you," I whispered.

"You need to start trusting us, Vicki. We're not going to look at you any differently if you need to leave to sort your diabetes. I'm not going to sit here are pretend I know what you go through on a day-to-day basis, because I don't. What I do know, however, is that you're not putting yourself first some of the time. Start doing that, okay? And know my door's always open if you need or want to talk. Is your blood sugar back up now?"

"I think so. I'll just check. You no longer have two heads, so progress!"

"You're forming full sentences too. Progress again."

I laughed. "I'm sorry. Put me first. Got it."

As much as I enjoy my job (most of the time, anyway), and want to prove myself and further my career, not putting my health first isn't going to help me achieve anything. No negelecting of me, by me. It's one of many balancing acts I'm working on.  

Self-Care.

Self-care: the act of looking after yourself in a healthy way.

The NHS definition makes it sound so easy!

It's not, and I'm done with the self-care stuff. But I know that diabetes without self-care becomes a shit-show very quickly, which I'm currently experiencing. Yet I'm really struggling to find the motivation at the moment to do anything more than test my blood sugar and guesstimate at my insulin doses. 

Have you ever wished there was an "off switch" and you could just magic diabetes away for a little bit? That's how I currently feel. I want out for a little bit, maybe bribe my pancreas to do its' thing for a week to ten days so I don't have to think about carbs and blood sugars and where to stash my insulin pump.

I had my first appointment at the hospital I've transferred my care to the other week. I was referred to the wrong clinic. Not the best of starts. I received a letter in the post with a new appointment. September. I wasn't happy with that. So I phoned them up and requested an appointment with a DSN. 

That appointment was yesterday. 

And it helped. 

She downloaded my meter and pump data and I cringed, despite having checked the reports function on my meter the night before, so I had some idea of what to expect.

"I'm high like 75% of the time," I said as my meter was downloading, "It's not a pretty picture, it's not where I want to be, but I just don't know what to do."

"It's okay," she replied, "we'll look at the data, we'll work together to make the changes. We'll get you back to where you want to be."

"But, really, it's not good. I just want you to know that. Here it from me and not my meter data."

She laughed. "Stop worrying. We'll sort it. And then it'll go to shit again and we'll sort it again." She stopped and scrolled through all the various reports that could be accessed. I wished there weren't so many. "Okay...well you're all over the place, but you knew that. And you know that nothing's going to change unless you're prepared to put a bit of work in. I'll be here in the background, you can come back in in a few weeks and we can number crunch again and see where you're at, call me, email me, whatever. But nothing's going to get better unless you put the work in. Basal testing, insulin to carb ratio testing, carb counting properly, you know the drill."

I sat there nodding, tears threatening to spill, and I let them. (If this DSN is going to know every little bit about my diabetes health physically, she can know where I'm at emotionally as well. Because it's not just the physical stuff.) I let everything out: how demotivated I've been feeling, how I know I need to do something but I don't know what, how I'm getting used to running at the numbers I'm seeing on my meter.

I calmed myself down, we came up with a plan, and we wrapped up the appointment. 

"Quickly, before you go; as this is your first actual appointment with us, I just need to ask you a couple of things. Insulin to carb ratios? Basal rates? Do you smoke? Do you drink? Do you exercise?"

And I reeled off answers to all her questions.

"Last one, how often do you have hypos?"

We both laughed.

"I've just told you I'm high like 75% of the time...hypos aren't the issue right now!"

"Okay, I'll ask you that one again at your next appointment. I want you back in in four weeks. Will your work let you do that? I think we need to review and just catch up, make sure we're getting things back on track."

I nodded. I apologised for crying, thanked her for her help/support/advice and made an appointment for four weeks time. 

Time to get back on this whole self-care thing. For real this time. 

Fears.

It was just as I was leaving work that I decided to check my blood sugar. Multi-tasking, as I do, I put a test strip in my meter, locked my desk drawer, pricked my finger and put blood on the test strip, put my coat on, picked up my bag, then "beep, beep". 

The double beep. The one that means my blood sugar is either high or low. I look at my meter and my heart rate sped up.

23.7mmol/l.

High. Very high. But I didn't feel like my blood sugar should be that high. 

I checked again, washing my hands first and using a different finger. 

23.4mmol/l. 

Definitely high.

I sat back down in my chair, remembering the last time I hit that kind of number. (Well, I remember what I've been told about the last time I hit that kind of number). And, for the first time in a while, my mind opened that box that I keep tightly locked and fear took over. 

Diabetes is a scary disease. Not all the time, but there are moments when I am reminded just how quickly things can go from "fine" to not. I try not dwell on it too much, as I think if I did that fear would consume me and dictate my every move in this thing we call life. And, in my opinion, that's no way to live. So that "fear of diabetes" box is kept firmly locked...until moments like today happen. Then I struggle to trust my instincts and it takes me a while to close that box again.

That's where I'm at this evening.

Ball: Dropped.

mySugr has been my chosen form of blood sugar logging for a long time now. Yet it was only the other day that I text Lizzie (excitedly) about the fact that you could also access your blood sugar logs through the mySugr website, where much more detailed reports can be found compared to the app.

I then properly looked at my report.

The ball has most definitely been dropped. Or, to quote a friend, "a momentary shift in priorities". Why? I'm not too sure. I don't really know why I didn't pick up on things sooner. Maybe I just didn't want to. There's a guilt that comes with blood sugar readings, a reflex reaction for me, and maybe I just desensitised myself from what they were showing me. Because there is no doubt that they were telling me I'd dropped the ball. Take a look (and for context, my target on the app is set at between 4mmol and 10mmol):

There's more above the green (and off the scale) that I personally like.

For me, the hardest thing when it comes to times like this (because it has happened before, and it will happen again) is pin-pointing where things aren't working.

I've recently started taking The Pill, which is more than likely having an effect on my blood sugars. My before bed readings have been significantly out of range recently.

My waking blood sugar has been higher than I'm used to too, and I'm feeling crummy for it. This could also be because of The Pill, I'm not too sure.

My weight could also be an issue. I know I've gained a little. I'm not worried about it, but I know that I'm very insulin sensitive: a little weight gain, I see my insulin requirements increase and vice-versa. Factor  in that I have  a desk job, and until the last couple of weeks hadn't really exercised, it isn't much of  a surprise.

The pre-bolus is no more in my diabetes management. This, for me, is a pretty big thing.

I've joined the gym. It's helping, not only with reigning in my blood sugar management, but also with dusting away those mental cobwebs that seem to have made a reappearance of late. I've been spending a lot of time second-guessing my decision to move back to where I currently live. I miss my old town, and I was kinda hoping (maybe naively) that I would have had a sign by now telling me I'd made the right call. I'm still waiting. And I don't doubt that this frame of mind isn't helping either. I've also missed gym-ing it for me, not just the above reasons.

One thing that is for certain is that I need to make some changes, otherwise, before I know it, these tendencies I have picked up will become habit, and that will make things a hundred times harder to snap out of.

"Do you regret finding more detailed sugar logs online now?" a friend asked me over coffee at the weekend.

"No," I answered slowly, "because if I hadn't have picked up on all this now, when would I? At my clinic appointment? When I start to feel too crap to function well? Downloading data helps me see the big picture. And at the moment, I don't like what I see."

"Time for changes?"

I nodded. "Time for changes."

Time for changes.

Invisible.

I'd felt a bit funny during my last hour of work, but a blood sugar check told me I was at 5.2mmol/l. I still felt odd before I left so I checked again, and clocked in at 4.9. I went to the shop to grab a snack and then made my way home as normal.

It was when I got to the train station and I was fumbing around with my ticket that I realised something still wasn't right. I managed to get onto the platform, and I whipped out my meter yet again.

2.9mmol/l.

"Fuck," I thought.

One look at this number, and every hypo symptom hit me with full force: I was shaky, sweaty, my heartbeat was racing, my lips were tingling, and rummaging for food suddenly seemed difficult.

It was the kind of low where, if I were with family or friends, I would have told them, for my safety and comfort. The whole "I'm low, and although I probably won't pass out [passing out is a hypo symtom that I am lucky enough not to have experienced], I need you to know that I feel like I might" spiel. But I was travelling alone (on my very short commute home from work), panicking. It got to a point that I wondered why people weren't looking at me weirdly, because I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. But no one seemed to have even noticed.

Source.

That's when I caught site of my reflection.

I did not look the way I felt, and it reminded me just how invisible this disease is.

Sometimes, I like that. I like that diabetes is something I can disclose as and when I want to.

Other times, I wish it wasn't. Like when I'm on a train, feeling like I might pass out, and not looking like there's anything wrong with me. 

The hypo passed, as it always does. I calmed down, and got home safely, thinking a little too much about this whole diabetes thing.

This disease, on occassion, terrifies me. It's not something I often openly admit because I worry that if I think about it too much, the weight of diabetes will become too much. Instead, I keep those fears locked away in a little box in my head, and try not focus on them. Fear has never been a great motivator for me, and, also, doing so often leaves me in a frame of mind I don't like being in.

But what has stuck with me was how "normal" I looked. That's scared me. Because the way I felt was not conveyed by my physical appearance. There are measures I take to make me feel safer. For instance, I disclose my diabetes. And I have the ICE App on my iPhone, stating that I'm type one diabetic, but you wouldn't necessarily think to look at a person's phone. 

What one might look for is a medic alert bracelet. Of course I own one...and wear one...or perhaps I've been meaning to buy one for a number of months (read: years) now. 

(Feel free to tell me off, I most definitely deserve it!)

I have now, however, ordered one (see picture above), and it should arrive within the next few days. I don't know how I've managed to go so long without one, and I am so lucky that I haven't found myself in a situation that required me to have one, but enough is enough. I've finally had that wake up call that has made me buy one, and buy one now.

I hope I never need it, but being reminded of, and terrified by, how invisible diabetes really is, I'd much rather wear one than not.

Play Time.

Next to exercise, I swear that play time with my littlest friend is better at bringing down my blood sugar than insulin! (Of course, I understand that this isn't really the case, but that the exercise/playing games with Doodle makes my insulin work more efficiently).

Yesterday, messing around with Doodle meant my blood sugar kind of hung out in the trenches. 

3.9mmol

...

Glucose tabs. For both me and Doodle, who is rather fond of "Auntie Vicki's Special Sweeties".

...

3.6mmol

More glucose tabs. Except the kid was in bed for this second low blood sugar, so I didn't have to share.

I know that Doodle somewhat understands diabetes, thanks to E.Hales, my best friend, for weaving it into his life as appropriate. He knows how to check my blood sugar, and he understands that sometimes sweets are sweets, and sometimes they're medicine. And he also knows that I wear an insulin pump, although he just says "it gives Auntie Vicki her medicine so she can play" (he's three years old, so things are kept very simple). 

More often than not, I love how much he knows about my diabetes. But sometimes, it breaks my heart as well. Yesterday, he asked me where my pump was so that he could be careful with it when we were playing. Him remembering made me smile and I was so proud of the fact he did. But I was also saddened by the fact that it is something he is aware of.

Most of the time, I'm okay with my diabetes. It's my "new normal", and has been for the last four and a bit years now. It's become my family's normal, my friends' normal, and now my godson's normal. 

Today, however, I'm just wishing it wasn't the case. 

Dreaming Of Lows.

Hypos come in all shapes and sizes. There are those that I don't feel, and I lose faith in my instincts; those that trigger than internal voice in my head; those that I anticipate, but don't quite catch in time; and, sometimes, they leave me gasping for breath.

Images from Google, merged by me.

But never have I dreamt that I was low, and then woken up low. Very weird!

Happy Monday!       

Frustrated.

Yesterday was a bad day - my blood sugar kept on bottoming-out and I felt like I was constantly eating to keep my blood sugar up. I reduced my bolus insulin, I took less basal at 9.30pm (when I take my levemir), yet I still wasn't getting much above 5mmol.

I floated my way through the day, making small talk here and there with my housemates, trying to concentrate on my revision and job hunting, but very much failing. Instead, I admitted defeat, had dinner with some friends who were in town for the weekend, and, as lovely as it was, was glad when bed time rolled round and I could (hopefully) get some sleep and try again the following day.

It's the following day. 

And things are much smoother-sailing today. 

Sometimes...

...it is my fault.

For the last week, I've been battling countless high blood sugars. My day of diabetes is a good example of what I've been dealing with. 

The change of routine that comes with being back at my Mum and Dad's usually leaves me running a little higher than I'd like, but, normally, upping my basal sorts things out nicely for the few weeks I'm back for. 

I've been upping my basal for the last 7 days. I also upped my mealtime ratios when my increased basal didn't seem to be doing anything to bring my blood sugars down, and still I was seeing numbers above 15mmol after meals. Not every meal, but the majority, and poor Lizzie got the brunt of my frustrations. (Sorry, sugar!)

Then, yesterday, I had a light bulb moment. This time last week, I changed my insulin cartridge. And that's also when the 'high' highs started. So, before going out yesterday morning, I changed my insulin cartridge, and for the rest of the day I was greeted with numbers no higher than 12mmol.

Lots of this disease is out of my control - I do all I can to keep my blood sugars within my target range and I carb count to the best of my ability to match my insulin dose to the food I'm eating. I exercise regularly in the hope that it will help me hone in on better control.

But a dodgy insulin cartridge?!

Yeah, that one's on me, not my diabetes.  

Celebrating.

Last Friday evening, I went to the LCS Ball, an event for all the final year students on my course. I'd been looking forward to this since I bought my ticket for the event back in February. I bought a new dress and even wore heels on the night. (For those of you reading this that know me, I seldom wear heels. I'm all about the comfy flat shoes.) 

Now, this event included a three-course dinner. Awesome. I ordered my food at the same time as I bought my ticket. Tomato and pepper soup to start followed by a spinach and goat's cheese tart with new potatoes and salad and the cheesecake for pudding. 

First off, I needed to work out how to bolus for this: do I bolus after each course? Take a starting bolus and then take the remainder after the meal? Where do I bolus? My left arm is still a no-go site because of my BCG, so I have my right arm and both legs. Then there's my levemir that I need to take at 9.30pm as well.

Then there was the actual debacle of carb counting the dinner to take the correct dose of insulin. I'm comfortable carb counting when I have my kitchen scales or nutritional labels to read from. I often use my carbs and cals app when I'm out, providing there is wifi. But working from nothing? I'm incredibly uncomfortable with that. (Something I've now realised I need to work on.) 

So, I decided on taking a starting bolus of 10 units with my soup, theory being that the soup would be realatively low carb anyway, providing I passed on the bread. I then proceeded to photograph each course and send it to my housemate via whatsapp. She very kindly agreed to look through my carbs and cals book to provide me with carbohydrate guesses for my meal. This isn't something I would usually ask, but given that this event was the last with my coursemates (apart from graduation), I really didn't want to stressing about how much insulin I needed. 

And I'm glad I did, as my post-meal blood sugar clocked in at 7.4mmol! Shep, I owe you big time! 

I obviously kept a close eye on my blood sugar throughout the night, as I was drinking, but knowing it didn't look like I was going to be battling a post-meal high blood sugar meant I could enjoy the rest of my night.

And that's exactly what I did.     

Gasping.

Image taken from Google Images.

For me, low blood sugars come in a variety of forms. 

There are the ones where (somehow) I'm still functioning.

There are the ones where I can't concentrate.

There are the ones where my ability to form words is inhibited. 

There are the ones where I'm shaky and unstable, causing me to stop whatever I'm doing and sit down.

There are the ones that result me in crying. 

And there are the ones that sometimes (just sometimes) leave me gasping for breath. 

Like last night at 1.30am when a low blood sugar checked in at 1.8mmol.

That one definitely left me gasping for breath.  

Month Of The Log: Completed!

Back at the start of February, I set myself the target of logging my blood sugars, insulin doses, and making any accompanying notes. 

It was hard going at times, being so used to relying on my meter which stores all the necessary information for me, but I did find it useful to see the numbers on paper. It was a lot easier to spot patterns, and making any relevant notes to explain certain numbers was incredibly useful.

Question is, will I continue?

Honestly, no.

I think I needed to log more to prove to myself that I could do it. But doing that every day of every month for the rest of my life...no thanks! I found it useful, don't get me wrong, but it's not something I want to have to do day-in, day-out.

Alongside logging, this month I also did basal-testing and insulin ratio testing. I can't remember the last time I did a basal test, and that is so bad! So, I've set myself two new "rules" when it comes to my diabetes management: 

1. Throughout months June and October, I want to be keeping a paper log of blood sugars, insulin doses and other notes again. In doing this, I want to also be carrying out basal tests and checking my mealtime ratios are still okay - like I said, I can't remember the last time I did a basal test, so I need to make sure that that becomes a lot more regular in my diabetes management. 

2. Go back to the paper log book method in between the aforementioned months when things are quite right with blood sugars, even if it's just for a week. I know that it's beneficial to me to see the numbers written down on paper to see patterns. Basically, I need to stop being lazy!

I learnt a lot about my diabetes in February.  

Back To Basics.

I don't know what it is about February, but that seems to be the month where I go back to diabetes-basics. Maybe it's because in January I'm so caught up the whole "this year, I will..." that there's no room in my head for diabetes resolutions too. 

This month, I set myself the target of keeping a paper log of my blood sugars, insulin doses and any relevant notes. We're now nearing the end of the month, and I'm happy to say I'm still keeping a record of things! Although, I have to be honest and say I have found it quite a tedious task, especially knowing that my meter keeps a log of everything. 

But I have most definitely learnt a lot:

1. Exercise definitely makes my blood sugars plummet. 

2. My blood sugars also bottom-out when it's my time-of-the-month.

3. I regress back to a child-state when I colour in with crayons. 

4. Beer is not my friend when it comes to blood sugars, but I like it too much. 

5. I know stress tends to cause my blood glucose to go up, but I didn't realise how significantly until I had a grad scheme interview. Definitely need extra insulin when stressed.

6. Indian takeaway dinner - not my friend either, luring me into a false sense of security when I went to bed on a 6.9 mmol/l to then wake up to a mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert and a blood sugar of 15.5 mmol! 

7. Playtime, however, with my godson is great a lowering blood sugar. Sometimes a bit too much though.

Diabetes: it's a constant learning curve!

February: Month Of The Log.

Writing down blood sugars, insulin doses and accompanying notes, to perhaps help explain some numbers and doses, is something I'm awful at! I can never find a system that works for me. I've tried apps, such as the mySugr one, which I love, logbooks, spreadsheets, but after a few months (no, weeks) I start slipping and before I know it, I'm back to not logging anything again. 

Before my pump assessment appointment, I wrote down two weeks worth of blood sugar readings in my log book. My consultant also doubles as the head of pump clinic at my hospital, and her and I have a standing deal that I have to show up to appointments with two week's worth of blood sugars on paper. Whilst I was scribbling down the numbers, I said to my friend "I don't know why I don't do this more often, it's so much easier to see patterns!" 

During my appointment, my consultant asked me for my two week's worth of readings (in spite of being able to download them from my meter - I'm pretty certain she just wanted to know I was still upholding my end of the bargain) and she said to me "You write your readings down for us, which is great, but why don't you write them down for you? It's your health at the end of the day. I know people differ, and what works for one may not work for another, but it intrigues me that you do this for us, but not for yourself."

She made a very valid point. 

So, my target is one month. One month of logged blood sugars, insulin doses and notes to then take to my appointment toward the end of this month. 

I drew up a chart, all neat with spaces to log all the necessary information. But I knew I'd need something to keep me motivated to write everything down. So, I did a very grown up thing. I bought crayons. And stickers. Red for low blood sugars, green for high blood sugars (which I'm marking at 14.0mmol and above), stickers for the days I'm within my target range. 

February. The shortest month of the year. A mere 28 days. Month of the log. If I can't do it in February, I'm never going to be able to do it!  

Glucoaster.

You know you're in for an interesting night's sleep when you start with...

Positive ketones and a blood sugar of 18.6 and then at 3am you end up with...

 

An empty tube of glucose tabs having consumed the five remaining after a blood sugar of 2.6! 

Tired for my 9am seminar would be an understatement!

Yay for coffee! 

Low.

Image taken from Google Images.

I could hear my alarm going off somewhere in the distance, trying to pull me from my sleep. 

I shut the alarm off and rolled back over. 

Cue my second alarm (I know what I'm like when it comes to 3am blood sugar checks!)

I fumbled trying to switch it off, and closed my eyes once more. 

Now, I often require two alarms for those 3am wake-ups, but after the second I'm usually okay to quickly check my blood sugar, treat/correct/leave, and go back to bed.

I willed my eyes open and reached for my meter and test strips. That's when I realised that my hands were shaking and my pyjama top felt damp. 

I was low. Like, really low, given I'd ignored my two alarms. 

My meter confirmed this - 1.9mmol.

I reached for the carton of juice on the bedside table and quickly started drinking. 

As soon as that was finished, I reached for my glucose tablets and willed my mouth to chew down a couple of them. 

And then I waited. I grabbed my phone as a distraction - checked Facebook, emails, anything to keep my eyes open as I waited for my blood sugar to come back up.

35 minutes after my first alarm went off, I was at 4.5. Back to my slumber I returned.  

Gym, Gym, Gym!

Image taken from Google Images.

Yesterday evening, I bit the bullet and went back to the gym for the first time in weeks.

It hurt!

I still hurt.

I've been assured that's the sign of a good workout.

Exercising in the evening is new. Last year, I always went in the morning and I learnt how my blood sugars reacted to that, and made changes where appropriate.

So, last night was trial and error.

Before dinner, I had a blood sugar of 5.2mmol and I took a "regular" dose of my meal time insulin, where as before I used to reduce it.

Instead, I reduced my Levemir from 12u to 11u. 

My blood sugar before bed was 8.1.

I set my alarm for 3am (oh, how I love that time of the morning!)

7.4.

And my waking blood sugar? 3.4.

We'll try 10u of Levemir next time!

Happy Wednesday! 

Spinning.

Other than seeing my family, my absolute favourite part of coming back to Mum and Dad's for the holidays is seeing E.Hales and Doodle. We text pretty much everyday, and we skype when we can, but nothing compares to a catch-up over coffee (or tea in my case) with her and the sound of Doodle's voice saying "Auntie Vicki", often followed by a run-and-hug. 

Yesterday, we iced gingerbread men. 

Today, we did spinning.

First note to self: don't engage in any activity with the kid that I don't want to be doing for the rest of the afternoon!

I picked Doodle up once and spun him round.

"Again, Auntie Vicki! Please!"

So I did. You try and say "no" to his smile. And "Auntie Vicki" - I can't say "no" when he "Auntie-s" me!

"Again......again......again!"

And hello blood sugar of 2.8mmol when I got back to Mum and Dad's!

Second note to self: reduce insulin when spinning is the kid's game of choice!