FUT1D

That's right.

Eff You, Type 1 Diabetes.

I'm literally over you.  You've been in my life for 30 years.  My longest relationship.  You have bossed me around. Controlled me.  Made me feel badly.  Made me cry.  Put me in pain.  Made me scared.  Made me sick. Made me feel hopeless.  You have made parts of my body give up.  You have made me stress out and become anxious.  You make me think of you first. You have made me depressed.  You have made me suicidal.   You have made me not give a shit about my life. You have hurt my friends, my family, my partners and random strangers.  You have been a selfish prick.  Literally.

I wish we could break up.

I am a middle aged woman, who is currently peri-menopausal, and has just received that dreaded post-bloodwork call from her Dr. My A1C raised to 7.7.  UGH!  Seriously????  I am doing NOTHING different.  NOTHING!!  I am eating that same.  In fact, I've been on the same damn diet for 30 years.  I have been wearing the same pump, counting carbs, watching treats, exercising more, taking my meds, checking my blood sugar....doing everything humanly possible for you, Diabetes.  Everything.

So, why do I have to suffer?

Why do I have to feel guilty and angry and sad, and etc etc and so on and so on because my A1C sucks?!?!

It's not fair.

Oh, and then my Thyroid is jacked up again?  Too low?  3 months ago it was just fine.  The meds were perfect.  Now they aren't?  Now I need a higher dose?  Because of my hormones again?  Because of my Diabetes again? WHAT?!

I'm so frustrated and sick of this effed up relationship.  I can't even take a break!  Go on a vacation, alone!  Get 5 minutes without the D bullshit invading my life.

The worst thing is that 'normal' people, 'non-Diabetic' people don't get it.  It's not only what I eat.  I know the lot of you are under that misconception and I cannot BEGIN to tell you how wrong you are.

It's what I do, how I feel, if I'm stressed, if I'm happy, if I'm emotional, if I'm over worked, if I'm tired, if I'm sick, if I'm busy, if I have sex, if I don't have sex, if the planets are aligned, if the stars are out, if it's raining on the West Coast and sunny on the East Coast.  It's every stupid thing that a person experiences or does in life.  Every single thing effects my Diabetes and my blood sugar.  I can't breathe without wondering if I b reathe too deeply will my freaking sugar drop!

Again.  Bullshit.

I'm over it.  I, and the other 1.2 million Americans who have T1D try so hard, every moment of every damn day, to get this relationship under some sort of control so that we can just live.  It doesn't matter that there isn't a cure.  It doesn't matter that our lifespan decreases by 13 years right out the gate.  It doesn't matter that we have more medical supplies in our homes/purses/cars/desks than we do anything else.  It doesn't matter that we spend billions on caring for this disease.  None of that matters because we have no choice.

Then let's talk about how much money I've raised for this disease?  For the hope of a cure. How much I have given over to JDRF.  Has anyone at JDRF helped me?  No.  Has anyone paid my hospital bills, ambulance bills, doctor bills, specialist bills, pharmacy bills, medical supplies bills, dental bills, food bills, insurance bills?  No.  Yet, I'm always asked to raise more money.

So, not only is my relationship partner a dick, so is it's family.

This is my life.

This is my relationship.

Until death do us part.

FUT1D.  I freaking hate you.

*Peace.

Law of Averages

I woke up thinking about A1C today. (Yes, I know, I really need to find where I put my life. Sigh....)



















A1C is a number that envelops a Diabetic in chains. It is only a number, sure, just like the rest. But this number has the potential of destroying you. If your number is good, then you can't believe it. You are elated, breath a sigh of relief and then continue to replay the past 3 months and figure out what it was that you were doing right. If your number is bad, then you berate yourself. Tears well up in your eyes and you replay the past 3 months to figure out what it was that you did wrong.



















For more reading, read my past posts about A1C here: A1C You in 4 Months and here: It's Just a Number.

My thought this morning was cynical. (No surprise there.) I had read a status on Facebook from 'Dear Diabetes' about things you can do to keep your A1C below 7. Several of the comments were about being frustrated that they can't get their A1C number in the normal range. This drudged up a reoccurring thought that I have always had.

Several Endo's have told me that A1C is an average of your blood sugar numbers over the past 3 months. Ok. Did anyone miss 'average'?? AVERAGE! So, if I have a month full of lows and a month full of highs, of course my average number will be good. Right? Law of averages??

So, how does this number have the right to dictate my control? Why do I get worked up over this number?

I had my A1C checked 2 months ago & my magic number was 6. I went to a different doctor 2 weeks ago and my number was 6.3. I walked out of the office upset because I went up .3. Really? Yes. Really.The A1C result has that much power.

I guess my question amongst all this ranting is why? Why does it matter? I could be the worst diabetic on the planet & my A1C number could be fine. Again, it's only an average.

I feel better than I have ever felt and that, alone, should tell me how I am doing.

Stupid A1C.

Stupid Diabetes.













*Peace.

It's Just a Number

For someone who despises math, my life certainly does revolve around numbers. A diabetic lives by numbers. What’s your bs? What’s your A1C? What’s your bp? What’s your bolus? What’s your basal? What’s the carb content? What’s Type are you? Numbers! Numbers! Numbers! Argh!! I am not a ‘paint by numbers’. No no, I am a ‘live by numbers’.















One of the yucky things someone can say to me is ‘It’s just a number.’ No matter what in my life they are referring to, ‘it’s just a number’ doesn’t begin to describe the impact it has on me. To me, it’s not just a number. To me, it’s the declaration of coma or ketoacidosis, lucidity or confusion, bad behavior or good behavior and ultimately life or death. Trust me when I say I wish the numbers didn’t matter, but they do.

I went to see Doc B. last week for my 3 month check up. Yes, yes. I have to get blood work drawn, I get to pee in a jug..yay...and I get my behavior judged every 3 months. However, this time I was more nervous than usual. I switched to a new pump and my numbers were skewed for a while. I was stressed over work issues, home issues, love issues, family issues, friend issues…life issues. In fact, my stress has been at an all time high recently and I was certain my numbers were not going to be good. Certain and scared and feeling guilty.


















The nurse came in and took my blood to check my A1C. I told her I was worried because I thought it went up. She said we will know in a minute. So, I waited. Nervous boredom doomsayer waiting. I do this to myself, I know. I immediately go into doomsayer mode & think a plethora of bad things. I don’t know why because I love the rainbows & sunshine mode so much better. I guess that’s just what my fear does to me.












Anyway, Doc B. came in and I immediately smiled. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he is the best thing that has come from my diabetes. He made his jovial greetings and flipped through my blood work. He turned to look at me and said ‘How long have you had diabetes?’ I replied ’Almost 25 years.’ He shook his head, turned back around and kept flipping through my file. Being the said doomsayer worry wart, I sat there with my mouth ajar waiting to hear the worst. I mumbled ‘What’s my A1C?’ He turned to look at me again and said ‘6. Kelly, you are an inspiration. You have had this disease for 25 years and everything is perfect. I hope you don’t mind but I am going to use you as an example to all my other patients. Your A1C is perfect, your thyroid is perfect, bp perfect, kidneys perfect, liver perfect…everything…perfect. You are doing amazing and, like I said, you are an inspiration. There is really nothing for me to say to you except keep doing exactly what you are doing. You give me hope for all my Type 1 patients. See you in 3 months.’

I sat there for a minute stunned. Literally stunned. I walked out of his office and burst into tears. I got in my car and cried in sheer and total relief. I am always busy feeling afraid of what this disease will ultimately do to me, feeling guilty over the things I do, being unsure of what my body will throw at me, that I never take the time to think everything will be ok. It’s not that I am negative about this disease, I am not. I am one of those people who believes in a cure. Who believes I will beat this disease. Who believes that nothing, especially diabetes, will ever take me down. Who believes in hope & the power of mind over matter. I am the person who believes that I am bigger, stronger and braver than this one chronic disease will ever, ever be.

















But, the reality of this disease does cause me to worry about my future. Quite often. But, the reality of this disease cannot, and never will, steal away my spirit or the words Doc B said to me. The words and the number that made my heart sigh.

On that day, I didn’t worry. On that day, one little number, one single digit, made me laugh a little louder, hug a little longer, breathe a little easier and put my fear away. Gawd, I wish I could do that every day.























Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

*Peace.

A1C You in 4 Months!

Written July 7, 2009


My body is tired of being tortured. It is. I have run out of places to put my pump. Cozmo uses the Cleo Infusion Set and I love it. It’s easy to use but the problem is my stomach has dots & scar tissue everywhere from the cannula. I don’t feel as if there are a lot of options for Cozmo & I. The tubing makes things difficult but I can’t get a tubeless pump. I just got Cozmo and my fabu insurance won’t approve another pump so quickly. So, where the hell else can I put Coz? My stomach is the easiest area. It’s comfortable, easy to reach, I just insert and stick Cozmo in my pocket. Done. But what to do when you run out of available stomach space?

However,the stomach does have its faults. Wearing a dress is a pain. Having the pump fall out of my pocket, smash & break on the bathroom floor is a pain. I just replaced my last cartridge cap. Having the pump slap me on my vag/leg/hip is a pain. Having tubing shoved down my pants is a pain. Rawr. I’m just complaining now.

Dexter gives me a little more freedom because there isn’t any tubing. I simply shoot him in and carry the monitor in my purse. Saturday I shot him into my thigh at 8am. All day I was uncomfortably aware of him but the pain wasn’t horrible. Please. Diabetics become friends with pain. We have no other choice. Finally at about 10pm, the pain & I were not friends. I, also, wasn’t getting any readings. I removed Dex and immediately started to bleed. This is what Dex did to me.















Stupid Dex. I am running out of landscape…and patience with all of my life sustaining devices. It sucks being a diabetic.

Something else that sucks is my ex-husband. That’s right, I said it. I have been divorced for 14 years. I have been over him for 15 years but apparently he still has a grudge.















My daughter spent the 4th of July with him and was finally allowed to bring a friend. He definitely isn’t in the running for any father of the year awards, trust me. This was the first time she was allowed to bring a friend. So, he starts regaling her friend with stories on how Amanda is a genius. This is true but he went on to say how she would have to call 911 when she was only 4 years old because 'her mother wasn’t handling her diabetes.' I love those people. Fortunately for me...YAY!...there are several of those people in my life. Can you sense the sarcasm? Low bs, to them, means ‘I am not handling it.’, ‘I did not eat.’, ‘I can’t control my diabetes.’, ‘I am doing something wrong.’, ‘It’s all my fault.’

What the French toast, people? Guess what? I can do everything with text book precision and accuracy and STILL have low bs. I have to deal with it and so do you. Shame on you for being ignorant when there is a plethora of information that is available to anyone who has access to Google, a library card or a bookstore nearby. Educate yourselves. You can also try to have some compassion and human decency while you are at it. Shame on me for allowing you to make me feel guilty for having a chronic disease that is sometimes unmanageable. Luckily for me, Amanda knows about diabetes as much as I do and was my champion, as always. Love you, babe.

I just got back from my Endocrinologist. I lurve him! He is so fabu and I am so lucky to have him. After 23 years, I finally have the most incredible doctor, Dr. Berelowitz. For those of you who live in Las Vegas, his office is in Summerlin and the number is 877-1887. It’s hard to get an appointment with him but he’s totally worth the wait. Check out Dr. B when he was a guest on the Diabetes Power Show.

My A1C is 6.4. This is the best A1C I have ever had since being a diabetic. I am SO proud of myself and so is Dr. B. Between Cozmo, Symilin and me, I am rocking the diabetes. Woooo!! I am on the cutting edge as far as therapy goes and I am doing better than I have in a loooong time.

I have just been made aware that some of you may not know what A1C is. Ooops. Sorry….lemme splain.

A1C is a test that shows the amount of sugar that sticks to the red blood cells. This lets us know how much glucose is in the blood. A1C provides an estimate of your average blood glucose control over a 3 month time period.

A non-diabetic may have an A1C that runs between 4 and 6. A diabetic strives for an A1C of at least a 7. 7 is a pretty awesome feat for a diabetic. I am as near to ‘normal’ as anyone, which makes me feel so totally accomplished. A1C can make or break the spirit of a diabetic. This number affects diabetics in a way that is hard to explain. It’s the defining number, the end all/be all number, the only number that ever matters. It’s the number that rates your success. It’s the number that speaks your failure. It’s the batting average, it’s the report card, it’s the progress report, and it’s the quarterly evaluation. Currently the score is Kelly: 1, Diabetes: 0. Whew.

For more information on A1C, check out Wikipedia.

While there are a lot of things about diabetes that truly sucks, an A1C of 6.4 makes me feel really good. Yay me! Take THAT diabetes! Ha! I should steal a blog idea from Kerri at Six Until Me and write about the things I like regarding diabetes. Only, first, I would have to figure out what they are.



*Peace.