Thursday, September 24, 2009

On the road again

THANK. GOD.

This canary will be fleeing her horrific coal mine before she dies of the black lung. Huzzah. The new gig? Back to books, kids.

Da books! I am happy to go back to them.

I'm nervous about The Epic Return, but also ridiculously excited. I've been out of the industry for nearly two years, and Me now is vastly different from Me then - I was beyond burned out, couldn't bear to read books, and got a stomachache whenever I considered another publishing job. I've recovered somewhat... not to mention having acquired intimate knowledge of what a bad job REALLY is.

So I'm going into this with a sunny disposition - I won't be editing this time. No author hand-holding! No heartbreaking failures to acquire! No abysmal sales responsibilities! No awkward, blind-date agent lunches! Just free books, reading about books, talking about books, living and breathing books...you know, what I already do anyways.

I am hoping that's the key to successful book employment.

Gah! Cuteness!

Is there anything cuter than miniature anything? Stumpy legs be damned...





Friday, September 18, 2009

Hungover again

But not in the traditional sense of hungover - this one's BG-related.

Last night, B and I settled in for takeout and TV. Thursday nights are often this way, and with the season premiere of Fringe and The Office in the wings...well, wild horses would have had to drag me off the couch. I got a meatball parm sub and was looking forward to it immensely - it's been crisp here the past couple of days, and I've been craving warm foods like nobody's business.

The sandwich was giant. I was starting out in the 60s. I did a conservative estimate of 70g of giant breadliness, bolused and we sat down. Maybe an hour later, and I noticed I was slurring and losing my train of thought - BG time. 38. Crap.

Juice + freaking out, trying to figure out what this meant for the next few hours: Why isn't dinner hitting at all? The tomato sauce should have bumped me, even if the bread was taking forever. How much should I treat for? Current low, or is this gonna be a sticky low I'm battling for the next 4 hours?

I opted for present-tense (working on not being too paranoid about those IOB numbers Dig keeps showing me) and did a generous 10-sip treat. Went back to the couch. And was rewarded with a 53 an hour later. Ugh.

Suffice it to say, I thought I got it all under control. My BGs were cruising under 120. At 11, I tested, got a 96 and was pleased - brushed my teeth, washed my face, hopped into bed. And jumped back out again 10 minutes later, feeling weird. 242 - a huge leap in just 38 minutes. Ugh.

I did not see a number below 200 again until 11:30 a.m. today. I feel like ass - dry and headachey, exhausted, just plain old gross - and I'm frustrated. I have no idea why it happened or why all of my BG reactions were so insanely severe. This wasn't a normal night for yours truly, and I'm just sitting on crossed fingers that the weekend won't see a repeat performance.

Eff meatball parm.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Jack and Lucy

Jack seems to have finally made peace with his new friend. Thank goodness.

Sleeping parallel is fun!

Nothing like a little double leg-cuddlage

Pump report: 48 hours later

So the Big Day was this past Tuesday. I spent Monday night wide-eyed and trying to fall asleep - with very little success - so I met the waaaay-early wakeup call for the trip to the center with a lot of grunts and desperate clutching of my coffee during the subway ride uptown. Glutton of punishment that he is, B went with me.

My first Paradigm hookup

We arrived with very little fanfare, and the CDE asked if I was okay with an coworker observing who'd never seen a pump start before. Sure! Who wouldn't mind a complete stranger tagging along for a day sure to include a spaz-out from yours truly?

The four of us spent the next 90 minutes going over (painfully and painstakingly) stuff I'd already learned through all of my pump preparation. It got interesting, of course, when the hands-on stuff started. I am proud to report I inserted my first set perfectly. And without crying.

It has been 48 hours of some serious adjustment:

I have forgotten to hit ACT for that final okay to bolus about a dozen times.
Me: "Why isn't that showing up in my bolus log?! I know I did insulin! [Hours later....] Oh. I think I forgot to hit the button again once the dose started flashing. D'oh."

I have forgotten to do my actual insulin (the D-brain does the math, assumes everything's accounted for, and its job is done. Insulin is not injected twice, so it can't be blamed I think). I have forgotten it's attached, and gotten caught in the tubing while tossing something on the chair. I have done a second insertion to replace the set I was SURE I'd messed up by the resulting yank on it. (I didn't mess it up. It just hurt. From yanking. Unsurprisingly.) I have pulled the tubing off doorknobs and out of our kitten's mouth. I have had to relearn trips to the bathroom and how to sleep with something hanging off me by a cord. I have become the proud owner of baby socks and five more tank tops with bras built-in (aka my new "pajamas").

In all, it is both better than and just as awful as I'd expected. Relearning how to handle D - a HUGE part of any T1's life - makes your brain explode a little. Everyone keeps telling me that I'll adjust, it takes time, blah blah blah. And they're right. But I still want to smack them. I'm sure it takes time to adjust to being blind or losing a leg, too, but that doesn't mean it doesn't suck to have to deal with either of those things.

I "go live" the morning of September 8th. I imagine that's when this will all get a little more exciting. I can't wait to be able to correct for a 135 BG! Mathy, nerdy excitement...