Saturday, September 29, 2012

One more time, with feeling!

An update for those who have pitched in, and a plea for those who have yet to do so:

Tomorrow's the big day! In less than 24 hours, I'll be cutting the ceremonial ribbon for this year's JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes. It is SUCH an honor - I am tickled right down to my busted pancreas. But even more thrilling? I'll be cutting that ribbon with an astounding Team Hoffmanderson fundraising effort behind me. As of this morning, our team of nine has raised a flabbergasting $9,230 (!!!) for the JDRF. The generosity of our loved ones just melts my brain.

That being said, I'm greedy. We are so close to the $10,000 milestone. Won't you help us meet it? Every single dollar matters! Please join our efforts here:  You might not be able to join us at the bridge tomorrow, but you can be there in spirit.

Thanks to you all - I could squeeze each and every one of you until you pop.

Karen and the Team

Friday, September 28, 2012

Thursday, September 27, 2012


Does it count if that friggin' alarm five minutes ago was a falsie? My BG was actually 95 and it recalibrated back down to 107...

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

T3s - I love you, but I don't understand you

It's been a hectic few weeks, so I've been quiet in a lot of places. (Except for my JDRF Walk nagging, natch.) I finally had a rare night to myself tonight with nothing to do, and thought "Holy hell, I need to go through my reader!" I had more than 300 posts to read through in my diabetes folder. Post after post from people who struggle like I do, who slog through the day-to-day bullshit, who sometimes have great days and sometimes have crap days, who love a nice Diet Pepsi, who understand what a high feels like and also what it means to wake up at 3am drenched in sweat. I feel such kinship with all of you because I am one of you. I have Type 1 diabetes. I didn't choose to have it, but I do and it has shaped my life and who I am as a person.

Now, you know I have a kiddo. (Bear with me - this does end up relevant!) Out of nowhere, our sweet tiny pixie all of a sudden has zero appetite. Every. single. meal. has become a battle. I feel like I'm counting peas and weighing sweet potatoes and oh, geez, did she drink 6 ounces of milk or was it 8 and is she going to wake up at midnight starving to death and how will we get her vitamins in her and omigod what about dehydration and I HATE THIS SO MUCH IT'S KILLING ME. It has been years since I have had such an incredible fixation on calories and food, and it feels just as emotionally draining as it did in college.

And that's the thing. I spend untold amounts of time worrying about what she will and won't eat, whether she weighs enough or not, on and on and on. She's just 14 months old, but she does have some control over herself - I can put food and drink in front of her all day long, but I can't force her to consume it. That's up to her and her alone.

So after reading post after post after post from the DOC people I've come to know and love, I realized that I'm actually worried about them. I wonder if so-and-so's feeling better after that endo appointment, how is Madame X doing with that insurance battle, is Mr. Y settling down after that pump disaster - I haven't met the majority of you, but I worry about you like you're my cubemate and I see you every single day. And if I feel this way about people I know rather remotely, how in the hell do T3s do it every single day? How does a husband or a wife or a parent look at their loved one and just say "Well, I'm going to be as supportive as I can, but this is kind of on you" and then live with that?!

This sounds heinous, I'm sure, but I think I'd be a really horribly shitty T3. Like, ABOMINABLY horrible. I wouldn't be able to shut my mouth when my T1 ate some tricky stuff and then coasted at 300+ while they slept. I'd feel anxious about my T1s endo report, and I would go to pieces if they got complications. I'm sure I'd be judgy about a crap-ton of stuff, and I'd be that aggravating creep who kept track of when set changes were due and whether or not scrip refills were ordered. I could get them juice until the cows came home, but I could never be the kind of T3 I know I have in my life. I'm a micromanaging control-freak in most ways, and that does not lend itself to trusting other people's self-care.

And this makes me feel weird. I'm quick to anger when I'm D-policed by someone. I have ill-concealed rage when someone presumes to know my disease better than I do, or questions a decision I've made about my own health. It's hard to reconcile this painful degree of hypocrisy: if I weren't T1 myself, I'd be a real asshole to diabetics.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

10 more days for Team Hoffmanderson

A reminder...

We have ten more days before the JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes - plenty of time to join our team! Become a member and walk with us (team page: - I promise cute babies and lots of snarky comments about cyclists!) or support us by making a donation (my page: We only have $550 to go to meet our goal for this year's walk! If even a small number of you put in $5, we'd crush it in no time flat. Five bucks is a burrito! A cheap beer in Manhattan! A fancy coffee drink! You can swing $5, can't you?

And if you've already joined the cause, PLEASE don't forget your matching donation from work. Free money is the best, amiright?

Thanks, as always, for being a part of the Team, guys.


JDRF meet-up tonight!

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Storming the bridge

I just sent my annual JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes email to my friends and family, asking them to support Team Hoffmanderson with sneakers or donations. But there's a big, fat hole in that list - all the people I interact with online on a daily basis. I have connections here, on Facebook, and on Twitter that are just as important to me as those that exist in "real" life. What would I do without those people? Without the DOC?

So I'm putting a (very slightly) modified version of that email below because you should be included, too. Join us, won't you?

*     *     *

Hello all,

In a little more than a month, Team Hoffmanderson will once more take to the Brooklyn Bridge for the JDRF's Walk to Cure Diabetes. This will be my eleventh trek to raise money for the Walk, and I've done it year after year because it's important.

It's important because little girls worry if they'll still be pretty while wearing glasses and an insulin pump*: (check out 2:19!)

It's important because some moms have to wonder if they can still bake cookies with their kids:

It's important because people still get a lot of their information about my disease from movies - - but it's often incorrect.** That it IS incorrect is due to advances in research and treatment that make these sorts of things possible for people like me:

AND, holy hell, it's important because people STILL have a hard time pronouncing diabetes correctly***:

We're raising money for the JDRF to help diabetics like me and the others in the video above, to help kids like L who want healthy parents to watch them grow up, and to help all the thousands of people who've yet to be diagnosed. Like I said, it's important. So Team Hoffmanderson needs your support.

  1. A donation can be made here: Any amount will put us closer to our goal! PLEASE check to see if your company matches donations. I know my employer does, and that's doubling your generosity with very little effort! (See below for details.)
  2. Support us with your feet - join our team and walk with us on September 30th! Register here: 
  3. If you already got this plea from B, apologies - I just wanted to personally invite you to do the Walk with us! 
  4. If you've already donated or registered, THANK YOU. Still, please click the links above. You should be reminded that you're a part of something vital. 
Thanks as always for your time and your generosity. (And really, if you do nothing else, click that first link - it'll give you hope for humanity.)

xoxo Karen and Team Hoffmanderson

TO MATCH YOUR GIFT: Please note that your donation should be credited toward me or Team Hoffmanderson and send your forms to:
JDRF - NYC Chapter
Attn: Walk Department
432 Park Avenue South, 15th floor
New York, NY 10016

* Spoiler alert: they are.
** Also because of bad acting.
*** Tip: It is NOT diabeetus.

Biohazard flower FTW!

Well, "walking" - she was in a stroller.

Team Hoffmanderson 2011

I'll show you my pump if you show me yours

I got an email from the JDRF last week. I merely glanced at it, as I'd thought it was for Team Hoffmanderson's Walk efforts and I've got aaaaages before that becomes a READ THIS IMMEDIATELY sort of thing. Two days passed, and then I noticed the word "meet-up." Hold on a second. A JDRF meet-up? Probably for moms of kids with T1, since that's what I see most often from the JDRF....but no. It's an adult meet-up. Here! In  New York!

SO. Do you have Type 1 diabetes? Do you happen to live in the tri-state area/near New York City? Then join me for this get-together! I believe we'll have appearances from Karen at Bitter-Sweet and Scott at Rolling in the D, too, and I wouldn't be surprised if other folks from the DOC show up as well.

It'll be a par-tay!

Friday, August 24, 2012

You are goin' DOWN - all of you!

When I'm "in the saddle" and working hard on keeping the D in check, one of the ways I try to keep focused is by keeping a written list of my meter averages and total daily dose of insulin posted on the wall of my cubicle at work.

The former is pretty self-explanatory, but the latter? Well, I've found that the less insulin I'm bolusing the less carbs I'm consuming and the more stable (and in range!) my BGs are. This is where I am now, as I get ready to buckle down:

I'm not happy with where I am, and I know I can do better. For comparison:

I was really rockin' it in January.
These are reminders that diabetes is inconsistent, but that I do have power over it - I can affect outcomes and drive change. It's empowerment on a Post-it.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Diabetic socks

Poor things. How would they ever do a finger stick?

This Book Will Save Your Life (#2)

"America has two kinds of politicians - one has sex, the other has war--which do you like"?

-This Book Will Save Your Life, A. M. Homes

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

This Book Will Save Your Life

"People should pay more attention. Everyone wants attention, but no one wants to give attention."
-This Book Will Save Your Life, A. M. Homes

Monday, August 13, 2012

Low grade stress

means a Dex graph that is consistently higher than I want it, no matter how much insulin I bolus.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Dreamed: boys and leg art

A boy was drawing on my leg with a pen - a giant design all the way up and down and around my leg. It was a stunningly gorgeous drawing, and I loved it. I loved it so much I was then dream-transported to a tattoo parlor, where I asked them to please make the drawing part of me forever.

* Side note: what the hell is going on with my dreams?! 

I get emails like this now.

Oh, how life has changed. I used to have my big celeb sightings while wandering the streets of NYC...and now it's on Sesame Street.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

I'm gonna go out on a limb...

and say maybe this had something to do with yesterday's D-difficulties.

OneTouch paranoia, part 1 jillion

No, really! You don't need to switch your meter!! Stay with OneTouch! Or, uh, if your warranty's up, maybe you'll consider switching to Animas?

Dreamed: bedskirts and Marshall

This morning, I woke from a dream in which I was desperately trying to explain to Marshall (of How I Met Your Mother fame) why he should replace his ruffled bedskirt with a nice flat pleated one.

He had the girliest bedroom!

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Epic D frustration

Nothing is behaving as it should. Salad Dex graphs look like I gorged on French fries or pizza. I raise my basals and still end up hovering way higher than I should, and these damned numbers are completely unbudging. I know I've stopped nursing, and I was expecting some hormonal and diabetes changes because of it. But this? This is unfathomable.

This evening, I pre-bolused 7.6u for dinner (popcorn!) at 7:03 pm - a dose that included a correction for my blood sugar, which was 158 at the time. I had not eaten anything except for roasted almonds for lunch, and some string cheese sticks during the afternoon while I played with L. I was waiting for my 40 minutes (20 pre-bolus, plus an extra 20 to see if I could drop my BG to a sweet spot before eating) when I got a phone call. It went on for nearly an hour and a half. Understandably, I was worried - I'd pre-bolused and wasn't eating! I was going to crash! But I figured I could nosh an apple and just change my food plans if I needed to.

Well. I got off the phone call and checked to see where I was. I expected a 60 to peek out at me...and I got a 119. Dex was flatlined at 126. An hour and 40 minutes had passed. My pump said I had less than 3 units active. Where the hell did those other 4.5 units go?!

I've never experienced anything like this before. Even pregnancy progressed in a more predictable pattern.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

RoadID'd: Now, a little safer

I had a medical ID bracelet. I loved it. And then I got De Quervain's. My orthopedist gave me a cortisone shot for it in January (result: no weird BGs that day, but my skin is permanently messed up over that portion of my tendon) and had to wear a wrist brace 24/7. I took off the ID so I could wear the brace...and then we moved apartments. The ID, of course, vanished without a trace.

So I've been ID-less since January. Walking around the streets of New York - often with my infant daughter, no less - without any ID explaining I have Type 1 diabetes, or that I pump, or that I take insulin, or anything. I've been feeling guilty about it. I KNOW I'm being irresponsible. I KNOW better than to be anywhere without ID. And then this popped up in my Google reader: Lorraine's well-timed post on RoadID. I was inspired, both by how cool the thing looks AND by the cost - my last bracelet set me back more than $80. I loved it and wore it daily for years, but $80 is $80.

It arrived!!

Fun shipping packaging!

It came with a fancy case!

I took it from far away so you can't see my info, but it looks badass, right?

I love it. I'm so very glad I bought it. I even got a blue band I can wear for Blue Fridays! If you need one too, I wholeheartedly recommend it. And if you go to to RoadID's site to buy your very own, this coupon code - ThanksKaren17668345 - is worth a dollar off your purchase price (it can be used 20 times for the next 30 days).

Sixteen bucks is a bargain for peace of mind.

This is not what a salad graph looks like

This is a french fry or pasta graph. Looks like I need to do some tweaks on my pump settings. Sigh.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Adventures in peeing

I freely admit that I'm not one of those people who diligently checks for ketones. Frankly, I've never had a problem with them when I didn't have a wicked high blood sugar and I've never been made horribly ill by them, so my treatment is basically bolusing corrections, chugging water, and monitoring my BG through CGM and fingersticks.

However, I've recently been working harder to keep a vial of Ketostix on hand just in case - I've had a few problems with vertigo/extreme dizziness after a night of high blood sugars, and I wanted to see if that's ketone-related. 

Last night, L woke up around 4am for a bottle. I'd had a particularly irritating glucoastery dinnertime - a miscalculation for a carby dinner that resulted in a giant crashing low followed by a huge leap right before bed as my bolus was wearing off and the fatty highs were kicking in. Waking up to a "HIGH" reading on my Dexcom meant I didn't get off that glucoaster, and my finger stick clocked me in at an awful 373. 

The giant blank spots? A new sensor at the beginning and, sadly, I-left-Dex-home-today blank at the end.

I felt atrocious (albeit not dizzy) and figured I'd do a Ketostix before going back to bed to get a baseline reading - verdict: no ketones. When I woke up for the day a few hours later, I was at 244. Still high. So I did another Ketostix. And folks, even though I don't check for ketones regularly, I have been diabetic for more than 18 years. I am well trained to be nervous about peeing on sticks. I know enough to root for zero color changes. But when I did the test this morning, I had a bit of a heart attack. I still wasn't throwing any ketones, but holy hell was I passing sugar. My color change went allllll the way to the right:

I won a nice poop-brown reading from the top chart

The problem with this is I honestly have no earthly idea what that means. (And when was that even added to the sticks?! I've only ever seen the ketone test.) According to their little chart, I was spilling 4 zillion metric tons of sugar into my urine. No ketones, though. So...what? I mean, I was bolusing to bring my blood sugar down. I was drinking tons of water to flush my kidneys and the rest of my body. Does spilling sugar require a different tactic? Is it only a problem if I'm spilling ketones?

I tried googling how to use Ketostix and just got a bunch of results for people doing Atkins and Paleo diets. (How incredibly weird is it to think about people intentionally aiming for something I'm trying my damndest to avoid?) I found very little info about it, but did love this little gem:

It's embarrassing to buy Ketostix?!

I can't seem to find them listed on Bayer's U.S. site, and I no longer have the box. I'm sure this will be a non-issue tonight, as I've gotten my blood sugar down around 120 and am drinking water like it's going out of style. But man. Finding this info shouldn't be so complicated!

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Fear: A confession

Deciding to get pregnant was one of the hardest things I've ever had done. Big Nan had utterly convinced me that a healthy pregnancy was an impossibility, that I would be irresponsible and cruel to try to bring a child into this world through my toxic wasteland of a body. Clearly, Big Nan was big-time wrong about that.

I still worried, though, throughout the entire pregnancy. (Actually, I was kind of a mess.) It's hard to trust your body when it's already failed you once, y'know? So I worried and worked at BGs and visited doctors and did everything in my power to ensure my daughter would be healthy when she was born. And she was healthy. Happy ending, right? Yes and no. Yes, because - other than being a little skinny - she's the absolute picture of baby health. No, because I am forever worried about what sort of genetic hand she was dealt.

Last Sunday - after she'd had a week or two of fussiness, sobbing instead of napping, guzzling nearly double her usual amount of milk, waking twice a night to inhale a bottle, and utterly soaking her diapers - this worry reached a crippling extreme. I could not stop thinking about all the signs and what they could portend. I could not stop feeling sick to my stomach, certain that something awful was going on but not quite brave enough to face it.

I knew, though, that I'd never forgive myself for going through with a party when L should be taken to an emergency room. So I took a deep breath and made the worry tangible by saying it out loud: I asked B if he thought I was crazy to want to test L's blood sugar.

B was, as always, himself - calm and rational and supportive. He did not think I was crazy. He, too, agreed she wasn't behaving like she usually does. More to the point, he knew I was not going to be able to think of anything else until I saw proof that I was wrong. And so we decided to test. I took my Delica and lanced her teeny tiny heel, feeling like a monster all the while - my girl didn't so much as bat an eyelash. I put blood to strip and held my breath while it counted down to a 112. 112. I was crushed by the relief I felt - completely overwhelmed - and promptly burst into tears.

I don't want to be the T1 mom who can't let her kid be a kid, who's overprotective and always thinking the worst. But it happened to me, and it's happened to so many people I know in the DOC. Why not L?

I'm working on being positive, on reminding myself that I have no control over this and that all I can do is be vigilant without being crazy. And, honestly, deep down I know that diabetes is not the end of the world. I have an amazing life, and I've lived with this disease for 18 years. I know countless tremendous people who also have diabetes and are happy and live well with it. I wouldn't wish this disease on anyone, but I do know that - even if my worst fears were realized - L would be just fine.

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Is "rage basaling" a thing?

If it isn't, it should be - I think I just did it.

L hit a year of age last weekend and, for me, that means I'm finally done with breastfeeding. (Well, the last few months has been more exclusive pumping, but at the end of the day my body is none the wiser). My goal was a full year of breastmilk for her, and I achieved that.

I have mixed feelings about it, of course - it's been a HUGE commitment. It was a lot of time and mental energy, not to stress. I'm glad I did it, but I'm also rather glad it's done. (Even though I'm also a little sad. It's complicated!) But. Last month, when I saw my endo, she told me to be ready for some major changes once I stopped breastfeeding - the hormones that keep that whole system going are known for lowering blood sugar levels.

Well, I'd never been one of those ladies who went low every time she nursed. I never needed a snack when I sat down with the pump. On the whole, my blood sugars were pretty stable and my basal levels were actually a little higher than they were pre-pregnancy. I figured "Oh, maybe I'm not sensitive" since I wasn't struggling with lows, so perhaps I'm just not having that issue - I wasn't really worry about any sort of jump.

Holy crap was I wrong.

I've been weaning for nearly two weeks, and I think the full effects can finally be seen. I haven't been below 120 in days, and I think 120 is my new 60. My post-commute bump - usually a nice 115-125 - is up to 201 today. My salad dinner last night had me orbiting around 300 and fighting to get it down to a mere 160 by 4 hours later. I bolus and bolus and bolus and nothing budges.

I looked for a pattern, a time of day where I'm higher, and all I could see was an all-around hyperglycemia. Solution? Rage basaling. I just upped every single basal rate I have on my pump. Not by a ton, but enough (I hope!) to bring things down to a point where I can see some actual steps to take to fix this new post-breastfeeding reality.

YDMV, indeed.

Monday, July 30, 2012

VerioIQ - still being a pain in the ass

My VerioIQ - the NEW one, that came with NEW strips - is still pulling that "Oh, your blood is control solution" bullshit.

How am I the only one that's had problems with this?! So. Effing. Aggravating.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

One year

A year ago today, my little girl was born. Months and months of waiting and worrying and she had finally arrived. And now a whole year has passed. A year! I was pregnant for 437 long, dragging years (blech), but the past 365 days have gone by in a blink.

Having her in our lives has been everything I'd thought it would be, but to the jillionth degree. So much fun! So many different adventures! So much adorable babyness! I'm so in love with my little elfin girl that I don't even care about the sleep deprivation. (Hoo boy, is there sleep deprivation.) Watching her grow and learn and change, seeing her personality develop, knowing that there's still so much to come - this is a wild ride, and I'm loving every minute of it.

Happy birthday, my little pixie. I'm glad you're mine.

I'm one today!

Thursday, July 19, 2012

VerioIQ: First impressions

I'd been keeping notes about my impressions of the VerioIQ meter, planning on posting a mini-review after the first week of usage was done. Alas, I think this post is going to be a little less of a cheerleading party than I'd thought it was going to be. You see, I'm on hold right now with LifeScan's customer service because of this:

Note how it says "control solution" below each of the results? The funny thing is I don't own any VerioIQ control solution yet. As I've been doing since I received the meter last week, I inserted the strip, lanced my finger, applied my blood...and yet the meter thought it was control solution. Upon retesting, it read the blood correctly, but c'mon. The meter is practically brand new - should I be experiencing this kind of issue already?

**** Note: I'm at 15:20 for holding. ****

Other than this current malfunction, which started at 4:59 this morning, I've been in love with this meter. (My poor crushed heart is so sad to think my love was for naught!)

*  I've been impressed with the numbers. Usually, when my meter and my Dexcom disagree, when I retest to see who's right the second result generally declares Dex the winner. But this time? If I get a result that doesn't line up, I retest and the second test is almost identical to the first one. I have been astounded every time it happens. I mean, it SHOULD line up like that, but in my experience it doesn't. So yay for consistency! Accuracy is another matter altogether, of course.

**** Note: I was switched to holding for a VerioIQ rep. I'm at 20:27 now. ****

*  Holy crap is it SO MUCH EASIER to do a blood sugar in the dark! When I get up for L's middle of the night feeding, I hate turning on lights/waking her up any more than I need to - this week, for the first time ever, I was able to do a test without turning on a light. Or, y'know, using the glow of my meter or Dexcom, or a particularly bright part during a movie, or the open refrigerator door, or a candle on a bar or restaurant table, or any of the other weird ways I've tried to shed some light on my meter.

* I love love LOVE the white strips. When they suck up a drop of blood, I can actually see contrast between the blood and the strip! Not so with my old black One Touch strips.

**** Update: Samuel is very nice. However, he has told me that this is "a very unusual issue," so he's going to have to go speak with his supervisor. Yeah, Samuel, I know it's weird. This is why I'm I've called customer service. I've never seen something like this in 18 years! And no Samuel, dear. This is not a matter of not washing my hands. Nor is it a matter of expired test strips. Currently at 26:59. ****

* I don't know why, but I am - again, for the first time ever - using the lancing device. I tried it because, in Think Like a Pancreas, Gary Scheiner basically says manual lancing is just about the worst idea ever. I've been doing precisely that since I was fifteen without too much problem, but if I'm gonna go another 18 years with the D, perhaps I'd better listen to the professionals. I don't know if it's that the Delica is more awesome than other lancing devices OR I just haven't bothered to find one I like since I was fine with the manual method, but I've been using the device without complaint since I got the new meter. I still have to curl my toes and brace myself like I'm doing a infusion set or Dexcom sensor change, of course, but I'm doing it and that's all I care about.


Well, that's the end of it. Those are my big first impressions. I love the meter, and yet... LifeScan is sending me a replacement meter and vial of test strips. I am a bit conflicted about this. I'd been SO excited about the new machine, SO excited at the possibility of having new gear that was better than what I was already using. Now? Now I'm less able to trust the technology. Such a weirdo malfunction in the very first week of usage? How can I completely rely on something like that? We PWDs rely so heavily on technology - our meters, our pumps, our CGMs - but technology is so very, very far from perfection.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

My first result!!

I came home to my brand-new VerioIQ this evening. I was thrilled to break it out for my pre-dinner BG check:

And I even used the lancing device like a big girl!

I have a feeling dialing in my BGs is gonna get really old really quick.

Eeeeeek! It's coming!

1.  My new meter is on its way to me. I. Cannot. Wait.

2.  I've been using the BD Ultra-Fine 33G lancets for roughly 413 years. My brain is currently melting at the thought of using something that looks different even though it's the same thing. Why did you send me these foreign Agamatrix lancets, Edgepark?! Are you trying to mess with my head?

Anyway. Yay new meter!

Friday, July 6, 2012

Ignorance is bliss

On the fast-acting insulin side, Halozyme had a number of encouraging presentations. The company is attempting to produce faster-acting insulin by adding an enzyme (PH20) that would temporarily degrade connective tissue in the skin, allowing insulin to be absorbed more quickly.*
I think if I'd be horrified if I found out how all my gear and meds actually worked.

* Quotation from the latest issue - #44 - of diaTribe's newsletter. Get it here!

Thursday, June 28, 2012

It's heeeeere...

And no, I don't mean a poltergeist.

I mean that, at long last, I'm going to see my endocrinologist. And I'm fretting about it, big-time.

Not just the standard fretting, although that's there. As usual, I'm stressing over what my A1c's gonna be, or what she's going to say about my pump download data. I mean, I *know* where I'm at. I've seen my numbers, I've been quasi-logging. I eat like crap - both in a regular person crap way, and a disordered eating kind of crap way - and my numbers are proof of that. I feel sick about it, as I always do before an appointment. But there's more to it this time.

You see, it has been a year since I've seen anyone from my endo's office, and even longer since I saw the doctor herself. A year. Sure, I had a baby. And went down to a part-time schedule at work. (Ha. Part-time in salary and butt-at-desk hours only. I'm still doing the same job, performing the same functions.) And moved to a new neighborhood. I'm still freelancing too, of course. But still. Going so long without a visit really drives home how much attention and time I've been giving to my diabetes. Hint: not a hell of a lot.

At what point do we - as diabetics, as patients, as people - prioritize our disease? I know I don't. I'd rather spend time with B or L, read a book, watch a movie, take a nap...I don't know what in the world I wouldn't rather be doing than logging or weighing food. I mean, I test. I duly bolus. I wear my Dexcom 24/7. But I have NEVER done a basal test. I'm only 50 percent confident about my carb/insulin ratio, or my sensitivity factor. This is SWAGing to the nth degree, people. Everything's kind of a guess, and then I bat cleanup when  my squint-and-shrug methods put me in the 300s or the 40s. I'm a diabetic pinball, and I know it. Pretty soon, my endo is going to know it and give me the stink eye, as she rightly should.

This is no way to take care of myself. I know this, just like I know I feel better when I'm in range, just like I know that I NEED to take better care of myself for L's sake. But good fucking grief is it incredibly hard to put what I know into practice and muster the energy to do more.

Friday, June 22, 2012

Eleven months

Oh, my sweet little child. My stubborn, pretend-laughing, big-grinning, drooly-kissing sweet pixie girl. You're eleven months old today!

The past month has been one of many changes, and it blows my mind how quickly things are moving.

You're clapping now - for yourself, for others, for no reason whatsoever - and you cheer when you've successfully (and unsuccessfully) stacked your rings, when you hear any level of enthusiasm from mom and dad (yes, you ARE the best sweet potato eater!), and whenever there's a lull in the day (best boredom-crusher ever). It's joyful and simple and pure, and I could watch you do it all day long.

You're waving! Waving to the world, from strangers on the subway to Jack and Lucy. And oh, how crushing  it is when you can't get Lucy to wave back to you - I'm sure you'll pay her back a hundredfold once you're walking, right?

You give high-fives and kisses on request, and you're working oh-so-hard on copying the sounds your parents keep saying over and over and over again. You get where the sounds come from, and that is fascinating. "Jack" is a sound, and "SSSSSSnake" is a sound, and you get that. My brain's going to melt out my ears when you start saying actual words, babycakes.

YOU ARE CRAWLING LIKE A BOSS. You've yet to get up on all fours, but you would give any Marine a run for his money on the army crawl - your tiny little arms drag you all over your room from toy to book and back again. You're as relentless as a zombie. A cute zombie, sure, but a zombie.

I want to memorize every second with you, my teense. Every perfect, ridiculous, wonderful second.

I. Love. You.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

It's that time again...

I just registered for the JDRF's Manhattan 2012 Walk to Cure Diabetes - it's not until September 30th, but Team Hoffmanderson is getting ready to roll. We want to beat last year's astounding fundraising total!

Who wants to be my first donation? Every penny counts, and it counts double if you get a matching donation from your employer!

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Better than popping a can of diet Pepsi...

I mean it's not a LOT better than the crack-fizz of a new soda - I'm not crazy - but hot damn is snapping that orange lid off my NovoLog satisfying.