Author Archives: Tracy Gnadinger

Just Another Emergency Room Visit

Posted in Cost, Diabetes, Insurance, Mental Health, Type 1 by

The only time I’ve ever been admitted to a hospital was when I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes back in 2009. In the 22 years before then (besides being born), I’d never had any reason to visit a hospital. I’d never had a broken bone, an allergic reaction, or injuries sustained from sports (except for the one time I caught a softball with my bare hand or when I crashed into a teammate while trying to catch a ball in the outfield – she went to the hospital with a concussion; I iced my jammed thumb on the bench).

But upon reading one of the recent Narrative Matters essay from Health Affairs about a doctor’s perception of the emergency department as a patient, I was reminded of the two times I visited the emergency room due to diabetes and how I hope I will never have to return.

I used to date someone who worked in one of the many emergency departments in Cincinnati. I have a brief understanding of the chaos and stress the staff undergoes on a daily basis. I feel for them and have no complaints about how I was treated the two times I had a seizure as a result of hypoglycemia and was sent to the emergency room via ambulance.

But from a patient’s point of view, it was one of the most lonely and degrading experiences of my life, so much so that after my second seizure when the doctor wanted to admit me for further testing, I disagreed and persuaded him to discharge me. Besides the occasional vertigo, I didn’t sustain any injuries from the seizures, but that doesn’t mean I made the right decision. Continue reading →

Blood Sugar Woes

Posted in Diabetes, Food, Type 1 by

“Is everything okay?” my former colleague and friend asked the young woman standing across from me, a rack of beach towels and bathing suits between us.

It was my first visit to Ocean City. My friend, who I hardly saw anymore since I left the restaurant business, had invited me along with her roommate on this girls’ weekend, fourth of July beach trip. We had just arrived when the roommate realized she didn’t bring a beach towel.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “I just need to eat; my blood sugar is low.” I looked up from the myriad of snow globes clustered on one shelf. I particularly liked the juxtaposition of Disney characters in bathing suits basking in the snow.

“I feel like I’m going to pass out,” she added and then discards the wave towel she was looking at.

“Really? Do you want some juice?” I asked. She shook her head.

“I have some glucose tablets, too. If you’re blood sugar is really low, you should get it up quickly.” My friend and I exchange mocking looks. The roommate declined again, and I sighed. I held my tongue because I knew in bringing up the glucose tablets, I had embarrassed her. After all, I knew the full repercussions of a low blood sugar as a Type 1 diabetic.

But I didn’t mention the two seizures or attempt to unmask the real reason behind her irritability. It’s very likely she did need to eat, but unlike my body, her body knew when enough insulin was enough. It may drop to a certain point (unless she was hypoglycemic), but as long as she ate, it would self-manage.

Mine wouldn’t. If my blood sugar was dropping, I had to take care of it right away, less I risk having another seizure or going into a coma because my body couldn’t stabilize itself without external help.

As we left the store, still beach towel-less (due to the prices), and stopped at the nearest food depot and I watched the roommate’s mood improve significantly with food, I realized I was once just like her. Even before I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, I, too, became irritable and moody when I was hungry. Just like my mom, sometimes I would feel shaky if I hadn’t eaten in awhile.

Continue reading →

Single and Somewhat Strong

Posted in Animals, Diabetes, Personal by

A few days ago I saw a spider in the sink. Today, I saw an ant cross my path along the sidewalk home. I tried not to step on it. I always try not to step on insects or animals that come across my way. I don’t know why. Maybe I feel like giving them a chance at life?

When one relationship ends, it feels like I question everything to life. Like what am I doing? What’s the point? I don’t know why relationships make us feel this way. Maybe because we thought we were on a different track, but then when we realized we were unhappy, we changed everything?

A week ago I made it through airport security without a seizure. I didn’t take anti-anxiety medication or keep my blood sugar above 200. In fact, my blood sugar was 160. I always eat something before I fly to make sure my blood sugar stays stable. After experiencing my only two seizures in the airport, I take all precautions when flying.

TSA didn’t treat me like a criminal or a terrorist, which was a nice change. I walked through the body scanner, let the officials know I had an insulin pump and CGM, and they waved their magic wand, assured I wasn’t carrying drugs, and ushered me through. And then coming back from my trip to Louisville, I was approved to go through the TSA Pre line (which coincidentally I’ve just applied for). I didn’t have to take off my shoes or take out my toiletries (not that I really do anymore, to be honest), and I went through a metal detector. A metal detector! I haven’t used one of those since pre 9/11.

And you know what? My insulin pump wasn’t detected, and I walked straight through. No double check. No special treatment because I’m diabetic. I think I’m going to like this whole TSA Pre thing.

But the truth is, diabetes has become such an ingrained part of my life that sometimes I forget it’s there. It doesn’t even get me down, but relationships ending do. I’m much happier and calmer, I have to admit. I’ve started writing fiction again, which is fun, but still, in the back of my heart and my mind, I know something is missing.  Continue reading →

Scrambled Eggs

Posted in Mental Health, Personal by

In light of recent conversations on mental health, I thought it might be appropriate to reflect on a period of my life when I questioned that life. Even though I had everything going for me, I, like so many others, struggled with the mental and physical realities of my worth. What difference could I make? What impact could I have? Whether I lived or not, the Earth would keep revolving. I didn’t think things could get better. I also didn’t think they could get worse. This was two years before I met diabetes.

June 16, 2007

The most recent typed edition of my second working novel is scattered across the blue carpet of my bedroom floor. I write today’s date on a folded piece of looseleaf paper and set it aside. I just took eight over-the-counter IB Profen pills. They’re the most potent pills I could find in the medicine cabinet. Unfortunately, my parents do not take prescription sleeping pills (that I’m aware of).

I have no idea what overdosing on anti-inflammatory medication will do to me, but I can’t imagine it’s good. I think I’m playing with my life. But I am determined to finish my second working novel before the medicine kicks in. I only have two more chapters to write.

I look at myself in the shattered mirror of my closet door. My parents are in their bedroom across from mine. I’ve locked my door. They know about my depression, and they’ve supported me in the past two years as I made the transition from home to college and old and new friends. They know that I started taking anti-depressants. They know I was seeing a therapist at the university health center. They know I’ve run out of anti-depressants. Continue reading →

Eden: Back to Where I Started

Posted in Diabetes, Exercise, Personal, Relationships by

On the Capital Crescent Trail from Bethesda to Georgetown, I walk along the pavement, staying close to the right so that bikers and runners may pass. I hear a shuffling of leaves to my right and see something white zip through the branches. I immediately grasp my key ring and two apartment keys tighter even though I am surrounded by several bikers and walkers. I search for a male lurking in the trees but see nothing. I begin my run again.

I’ve felt an ache to run for two days now. I don’t know where it came from. I have to admit I was scared to take the trail after hearing the horrid stories of women being raped, but my coworker assured me as long as I run during the day or evening when it’s crowded, I should be safe. In the 10 years I’ve been running, I’ve never feared for my safety, but I’ve always carried a few keys with me in case I needed them as defense weapons, and I always keep my music at a low volume.

But today with a storm pending, I knew it would be a perfect opportunity for a run. With my 10-minute commute, it doesn’t take me long to arrive home and change my clothes. And then I’m out the door in a hot pink shirt and black shorts. I should probably carry my CGM with me and maybe some glucose tablets, too. But I don’t plan to be gone long, and my blood sugar is steady at 125. I drank some juice just in case. Continue reading →

Show Me Your Pump

Posted in Body Image, Diabetes, Medical Supplies, Type 1 by

I’ve been a Type 1 diabetic for five years and an insulin pump wearer for two, but I still struggle with putting “Gizmo” out there. Recently, Sierra Sandison’s #showmeyourpump campaign has been trending on Twitter and among diabetes communities. I have to admit I am in awe. For one, I don’t usually wear my insulin pump with my bathing suit because it’s not waterproof, and two, I don’t want the stares and questions.

But now that I have Cosmo, my continuous glucose monitoring system, I’ve had to reconsider. This is something I can’t unplug at a moment’s notice (although as often as the tape stops adhering to my skin, I almost want to). Yesterday, I decided to “be brave,” so to speak, and wear my insulin pump on the outside of my pencil skirt. Not only did it make for easier access, but it reminded my coworkers and myself that yes, diabetes is a part of me, but it doesn’t control me.

In the end, no one commented on it. Maybe they stared, but I didn’t notice. Or maybe they’ve just gotten used to me being a vibrating machine because between Gizmo and Cosmo and my phone, even my boyfriend never knows which medical device is calling me.

Always Wear a Helmet?

Posted in Mental Health, Personal by

I am sitting on the metro on orange plastic leather, trying to ignore the sticky residue to my right. I am taking the Red line to work and re-reading book one of six about werewolves and vampires in Victorian London (yes, I’m one of those; when you read health policy every day, you can’t blame me).

At the next stop, a boy with a head full of blond curls climbs up on the seat next to me to look out the window. He looks to be about three or four. His dad isn’t too far behind with backpack in tow. The boy looks at me and then his dad and holds on to the adjacent railing as the train starts moving. I smile and offer up my seat and the dad thanks me.

I watch for the next 10 minutes as the boy’s fascination with underground trains and speed grows. Before they depart for what I assume to be the National Zoo at the Woodley Park stop, his dad unveils a small football helmet. He fastens it onto his kid, which he must be used to because he doesn’t struggle or resist. The boy then grabs his dad’s hand and walks with him out the door. Continue reading →

The Lone Dove

Posted in Animals, Mental Health by

I am sitting on my rooftop deck, talking on the phone with my mom. I’m in one of those weird emotional states where I feel mesmerized by everything and feel I should contemplate the meaning to my life, even the littlest details like what am I making of this warm Sunday afternoon.

With my feet propped onto the deck chair, I am being burned by the sun, but there is no shade to escape within. We have not acquired an umbrella for this Craigslist patio set, but since I am moving in a few weeks, there is no point. I watch my skin turn red, but I do not move inside. I want to feel the heat.

A pigeon joins me on the deck. It squats on the wooden railing, picking at scraps shaken off by the nearby trees. My boyfriend calls these birds the “rats of the sky,” but when I stop squinting and take a closer look, I realize it’s not a pigeon at all, but a light brown dove. Where is its mate, I wonder? Continue reading →

‘The Fault In Our Stars’: Diabetes Edition

Posted in Diabetes, Type 1, Women's Health by

Diabetes is hard, but I won’t die from it. At least, not right away. I believe that I will eventually die of a heart attack. With the constant ups and downs of my blood sugar levels, I am sure even if I was given a decent heart, it would not be able to last years with this kind of stress. But at least it didn’t have to endure it for the first 22 years of my life.

It’s possible I may die from something else entirely, unrelated to my health, like a car accident, an injury sustained from rock climbing, food poisoning, etc. Okay, I’m being dramatic, but it doesn’t make sense to spend my days thinking about death, something I learned while reading The Fault In Our Stars by John Green. I love the title, by the way, but when I saw previews for the movie, it looked kind of cheesy and unrealistic, one of those “feel-good cancer movies,” if there can even be such a thing.

Then I read a review of the book and thought I might like it. After all, even though I’ve only been to one funeral in my life, I think about death a lot. I used to worry about receiving a call in the middle of the day that one of my grandparents or siblings had passed. I used to worry my friends would be one of those statistics for teenagers killed by drunk driving. When I wrote stories, one of my characters always, inevitably died (many times the main character because I’m that author). Continue reading →

Bye Bye Baltimore (Part 2)

Posted in Travel by

I gave Baltimore a pretty rough time of it in part 1 of this post so this time, I would like to showcase some things I will miss when I say my farewells less than a month from now.

The Inner Harbor. Ever since I made the move from Charles Village (where the recent infamous street collapse happened) to Little Italy in 2011 because my landlord had failed to pay his taxes and the house foreclosed, I’ve never wanted to be more than a 10-minute walk from the Inner Harbor. I especially love the promenade walk from Harbor East to Canton Waterfront. I used to run this trek three times a week during the summer. Now, living in Federal Hill, I run along the water to Harbor East on the other side of the promenade or take Key Highway to Fort McHenry.

Last Sunday, as I walked around the fort, beneath the cannons and Memorial Day flags, after a heated run, I knew I would miss this view. Even though the water is discolored and the smell can be overpowering after a rainstorm, the whistling sounds of sails in the wind, seagulls calling, and calm waters hitting the banks has always been a source of tranquility for me. I’m excited to explore new trails in DC around Rock Creek and Georgetown, but I will miss running along the bay, looking beyond as it opens wider and engulfs my dreams.

Continue reading →