Tag Archives: diabetes

I Am a Rose of Sharon

Posted in Body Image, Diabetes, Type 1 by

I can’t stop my leg from shaking. The needle hasn’t even pricked my skin, and even though the tattoo artist in front of me is probably annoyed, he smiles.

“This is never going to look like a fleur de lis if you keep that up,” he jokes. My friend Britteny from work sits on the other side of me. She smiles, trying to reassure me. Everyone’s nervous their first time, she tells me with her pale blue eyes. It shouldn’t be natural to want to permanently imprint an image onto my body for the sake of art and beauty, for the sake of remembering where I came from.

I always wanted a tattoo, but because of its permanent effect, it took me four years to figure out where and what I wanted. I decided on a fleur de lis, a symbol of my hometown, Louisville, KY, named after the French King Louis XVI. Britteny encouraged me to use color so I chose my two favorite colors: blue and purple.

I finally calm down enough so that the tattoo artist can begin his work. He’s big with a short, gray beard, but a gentle touch. He outlines the French symbol on my ankle; I wince every time he nears the bone, but I do not cry. I never cry in public. I refuse to show weakness. It takes longer than I expect, but time passes quickly as Britteny tries to keep me calm, and I watch mesmerized by the needle. Continue reading →

Drinking to Undo Diabetes

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

I hadn’t been drinking that long before I was diagnosed with diabetes. Suffice it to say I was a good girl who usually followed the rules. But upon turning 21, my friends started winning late-night happy hours at downtown Cincinnati bars. I attended many of these happy hours, and with the first two drinks being free, it didn’t take long to make it to five.

Two weeks before I was diagnosed at 22, I was at a downtown bar with my boyfriend at the time, Reed. It was crowded for a Thursday night, mainly due to these happy hours. Reed and I had just returned from attending church with his family – it was the Thursday before Easter, and even though I no longer practiced Catholicism, I adored his family, calling them my own, and willingly subjugated myself to the torture of mass to spend time with them. I even wore purple (the color of lent, a season of repentance for Catholics).

I was nursing my second beer when Reed returned from the bar with two White Russians (he was a huge Big Lebowski fan) and two Bud Lights in hand.

“Thirsty?” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“Happy hour ends in 10 minutes, had to make the most of it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. I wasn’t planning on getting drunk that night, but you know how the story goes …

Two weeks later, on April 24, I was admitted to the hospital for a severely high blood sugar (690). I was supposed to spend the evening with my boyfriend and his aunt and uncle. Instead, I was alone in a cold hospital bed with a dead cell phone and a disease. Within 24 hours, the doctor and nurses got my blood sugar down to 200. Although I was advised to stay another night, I pleaded with them to let me go, promising them that I was responsible and would take care of myself. Continue reading →

Sister, Sister

Posted in Diabetes, Mental Health, Personal, Type 1 by

It seems to be staring at me, although I don’t see a face. I only see its black rectangular body and a few mechanical buttons that I suppose could be eyes – they are my life source. It’s buzzing at me, but I ignore its demand for attention.

There was a time I didn’t need you.

It doesn’t hear me. It doesn’t seem to respond, but it moves across my desk, as if inching closer to my exhausted body.

You are gray and ugly, and I don’t want you … but I need you.

I have a weird relationship with my insulin pump. If we were on Facebook, it would read, “It’s complicated with Gizmo.” Yes, I’ve named it Gizmo. I figure if it’s going to share my bed, it should have a name.

In approaching the holidays, I realize even though Gizmo has only been with me for two years, diabetes has been in my life for almost five. That’s not a lot considering most people with Type 1 were diagnosed when they were seven. What was I doing when I was seven? Oh yeah, playing beneath the Maple trees of Kentucky and going to church with my family every Sunday.

When I was in college and realized the brain doesn’t fully develop until we’re 20 or 25, I considered this might be why childhood seemed like the happiest years of my short life. I hadn’t met reason yet. I didn’t think about the horrible atrocities happening in the world or feel stressed about how quickly my next paycheck would disappear.

No, I lived in the present – my only concern was what fun things I could do with my day. My brother, two years younger than me, and I used to make lists during the summertime and then vote on the items on that list, planning out our free time and deducing what activities we would engage in that day.

We built Lego cities in the basement, played “house” in the church parking lot across the street, and pretended to be sisters. One time my father came home and found my brother dressed in a witch costume, answering to the name of “Susan.” I don’t know why he liked that name so much, but when we played “Sister, Sister,” I always let him choose his female name. To be fair, we also played “Brother, Brother,” but after my dad found my brother wearing a dress, we never played sisters again. Continue reading →

Food Junkie

Posted in Body Image, Diabetes, Food, Type 1 by

For the first time in 16 years, binging hasn’t been an issue. In my book Sugarcoated, I refer to myself as a “food junkie.” I love late night snacks such as peanut butter ice cream, sweet potato cinnamon crackers, pumpkin flax seed granola, etc.

Ever since college, I’ve conditioned myself to eat less during the day so I can binge for dinner or later. I grew up with the rule “if you finish dinner, you can have dessert.” I’ve never been able to break this. Even when binging got out of control to the point where I stuffed myself until I felt pain, I would throw it all up, refuse to take insulin, or starve myself the next day so I wouldn’t gain weight (for more insight, check out “Half Empty” in Sugarcoated).

I no longer practice these nasty habits, but I still can’t help overeating at night, whether it is summer or winter … until now. So what has changed? Suddenly, I’m not interested in food? I forget to eat lunch or can’t even finish my dinner much less make it to dessert. Usually when I stop eating, it’s because I’m depressed.

But I recently started a new job, which I love, and moved in with my boyfriend of three years (we were doing long distance before then). I have my own place, financial security (minus thousands in student loan debt), and maintain a healthy lifestyle (although I wish I exercised more but with a 1.5 to 2.5 hour commute each way, it’s a challenge).

Could it be I stopped binging because I’m happy? Researchers from the University of Central Florida (2003) found a positive relationship between happiness and these aspects of body esteem: sexual attractiveness, weight concern, and physical condition.

Furthermore, eating disorders such as binging are more common among women with diabetes than women without diabetes. For those with Type 1 (like me), this is referred to as “diabulimia.” I admit even before I was diagnosed with diabetes at 22, I had issues with body image and eating disorders. Diabetes just added an extra element including increased health risks (Joslin Diabetes Center) such as: Continue reading →

The DC Metro: It’s Not Baltimore (Baltimore has a metro?)

Posted in Diabetes, Travel, Type 1 by

After kicking and screaming along the DC beltway, I decided to try my commute with the MARC train and DC metro. I’m not new to public transportation. When I moved to Baltimore for graduate school, I sold my Honda Civic and navigated Baltimore’s best and worst neighborhoods using the local bus system (sometimes I pretended to be a Hopkins student and caught a free ride on their shuttle), Light Rail, Metro Subway, and the Charm City Circulator.

More often than not, however, walking was more reliable than public transportation, but either way, I survived without ever being stabbed, robbed, or raped (although I was often harassed by men).  But that’s because I had a series of rules, which I rarely broke:

  1. Do not look anyone in the eye
  2. Do not talk to strangers
  3. Do not respond even to a “hello” – you do not want to initiate dialogue or let your guard down
  4. Always walk like you know where you’re going
  5. Always wear a frown (what I like to call the “don’t fuck with me; I’ll kill you” face)
  6. Never accept help
  7. Always be aware of your surroundings and stay away from “suspicious” characters
  8. Always leave yourself extra time and have a back-up plan – public transportation is anything but “reliable”

What do I consider suspicious? Am I too dependent on stereotypes? When it comes to my safety, I don’t care. If anything makes me uncomfortable, I remove myself from the situation. For example, one time an older gentleman sat next to me on the Baltimore metro and started talking to me even though I had my headphones on and every other seat was empty. He wasn’t threatening me, but I didn’t want to be bothered, and he was making me uncomfortable. I simply acknowledged him, stood up, and walked to another train. He didn’t follow me. Continue reading →

Kicking and Screaming: The DC Beltway

Posted in Diabetes, Travel, Type 1 by

Stop and go. Stop and go.

One lane moves. The other three don’t. Change lanes. Now the other lanes move, and mine doesn’t.

This describes the epic battle on the DC beltway during rush hour. Yes, I’ve somehow convinced myself this new job is worth the 3 hour commute from Baltimore to Bethesda and back again.

I’ve tried 29. I’ve tried local traffic. Nothing changes. No time is saved. So far, my best bet has been to travel among the lost and forsaken on 495.

I’m in the process of looking for a carpool. I feel bad being a sole traveler in one vehicle, but when I look around, I am not alone. Not to mention the added gas expense, wear and tear on my car, and the increased carbon emissions.

And then there’s the train. I’m also trying this option out, but this requires waking up at 5:30 a.m. to catch a bus to the train station, which takes me to Union Station in DC, and then the metro to Bethesda. It’s a roundabout way to commute, but it would save me $50 per month and the hassle of driving in rush hour traffic.

The catch? I have to get up an hour earlier only to get home an hour later. But you can be so productive on the train, they tell me. Except with such long days, all I want to do is zone out or sleep, but I’m too paranoid to sleep in public. Continue reading →

Gizmo aka My Insulin Pump Comes Back

Posted in Diabetes, Medical Supplies, Type 1 by

It wasn’t a weekend of firsts. It wasn’t a weekend of lasts. But it was a weekend that changed my outlook on this whole “diabetes” situation.

I did more than survive a weekend without Gizmo, my insulin pump. I re-learned the challenges associated with counting carbs and calculating insulin dosages and how to listen to my body.

Sunday and Monday were good examples.

On Sunday night, my blood sugar felt high (159), but not high enough to warrant a correction dosage of one unit (the lowest increment my flex pen will allow). I had a vague recollection my syringes were divided into 0.5 increments. I only needed a 0.4 unit correction dosage.

I looked at the needle on the syringe – not much longer than my flex pen; I could do this. Now how do I get insulin from the vial to the syringe without breaking the needle? The last time I used a syringe was four and a half years ago, right after I was diagnosed.

Apparently, I needed to unscrew the bottom of the syringe to access the plastic extension that would allow me to fill the syringe. I couldn’t fill it to the 0.5 mark. How would I get out the air bubbles? I used the same method I use for the plastic vial I attach to my pump. I overfilled it and then used the extra space to rid of the bubbles.

Now I will just inject myself with the 0.5 increment and dump the rest back into the insulin vial, I thought. However, as soon as I inserted the needle into my skin, I realized how stupid this was, how easily I could accidentally inject myself with all 15 units of insulin. That means I would need to eat 300 grams of carbs to make up for it, which would totally defeat the purpose of this. Continue reading →

My Weekend Without Gizmo: Day 2

Posted in Diabetes, Medical Supplies, Type 1 by

8 a.m.

I contemplated getting up even earlier this morning to drive to work and pick up my pump supplies, but then I decided it would be more worth it to stick to my original plan and live a weekend with pens and needles.

Today would be a true test, too. It wasn’t like any other Saturday. I had volunteered to plant trees at Farring Baybrook Park with the National Aquarium and TreeBaltimore. The event was supposed to last five hours – that meant five hours in the cold, doing hard, physical labor.

I would need to make sure my blood sugar didn’t drop, but I also didn’t want it to remain high – I didn’t want to feel constantly thirsty and have to pee every 10 minutes. I checked my blood sugar. It read 83.

Wow, I was impressed it stayed stable overnight. I shouldn’t be. After all, I had taken Lantus (long-lasting insulin) injections nightly before the pump to keep my blood sugars stable over a 24-hour period.

I drank half of cup of “green” juice. I didn’t feel like eating. The event organizers promised granola bars, but they would be full of carbs and sugar. How would I take insulin? Wouldn’t I have to take too much insulin depending on the carb ratio? Maybe I would just wait to eat the hard boiled eggs (devoid of carbs and full of protein) I had packed when I felt hungry?

They encouraged us to bring lunch, but I was out of any “to-go” options so I brought a hodge podge of snacks: granola, crackers, hummus, and Gatorade. Continue reading →

My Weekend Without An Insulin Pump

Posted in Diabetes, Medical Supplies, Type 1 by

When did I become afraid of needles? As a diabetic, this seems like a silly question.

But this past weekend, I decided to put Gizmo (my insulin pump) on the shelf and attempt to live off insulin injections via needles. It wasn’t my initial plan, but after a mishap involving leaving vital pump supplies at work, I decided to test it out.

Gizmo’s been by my side for the past two years. What would a day be like without it?

Day 1

When I twist my needle onto a flex pen I still happen to own after two years that still happens to have effective insulin in it, I feel nervous. I wet the skin around my belly button with an alcohol swab and wait for it to dry. The needle seems longer than I remember. At least it is shorter than my other back-up method – the syringe.

I used to do this for two years before I had Gizmo. Was it really this hard? I’ve never been afraid of needles. In fact, I was the kid who wanted to look when the nurse injected me with my annual shots so I knew when the pain was coming.

I know I’m less likely to feel pain if I inject into the fat around my stomach rather than my muscled thighs, skinny arms, or butt. Yes, but doesn’t my butt have the most fat, you may ask? That’s not something you need to know, but really the reason I don’t attempt this area is because it’s too difficult. Continue reading →

What Do You See?

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

I squinted at the Word document on my laptop while I drowned out the noise of Xavier University’s campus center. I sat back in my cushioned chair within the study area of the third floor. It was my last finals week as a senior in college.

I increased the document size to 200 percent. There. I could finally make out the words of my American Literature class essay. Had this diabetes diagnosis changed my vision forever? I had somewhat poor eyesight before being diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes a week prior, but I wore contacts on a daily basis. It never interfered with everyday tasks.

Second to my father, I am the only one in my family who needs glasses. Now that my mom is older, she’s turned to reading glasses, but both my younger brothers have perfect vision. I started wearing glasses at 16, just so I could see the white board in class. When I competed in cross-country races, I ran blindly (well not really, I could see in front of me just not at a distance).

In college, I made the switch to contacts. My pupils are so large it is impossible to drive without sunglasses, and the frames I propped over my regular glasses to shield the sun weren’t doing the trick. What a difference contacts made! But then four years later, they didn’t help at all. Continue reading →