Simply put, Today seems to be what happens when I get cocky, and it's bleeping annoying.
For reasons I can't completely explain, Saturday and Sunday were great diabetes days. I stayed around 90 most of the time, despite multiple snacks (yes, with carbs) and some SWAGing (no, I haven't kicked that habit yet). This type of shenanigans-free blood glucose behavior is not normal for me; especially on the weekends.
Every once in a blue test trip, I'll get a day or two like this. It gives me some confidence, and a sense of relief. I almost start to think, Hey, you - this isn't so bad after all. See how well you're doing? And you're hardly trying! You've got this! It's all falling into place! I want to give myself a big ol' pat on the back; like I've earned it somehow. As if my 24 years of diabetes knowledge and experience has culminated to this focal point of awesomeness.
But, Today?, Oh no - today, that streak of awesomeness came to a skidding halt while I was at work. Twice.
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| "Twice!!!" |
One of the most frustrating parts is my inability to see where I went so wrong. A little wrong? Maybe. But not 35 mg/dL wrong.
I ate the same breakfast. Took the same insulin for it, 15 minutes ahead. Then I drank my coffee - like I always do - and took a few units for it, like I always do. I watched my number creep up to just below 130 on the Dexcom, and was still headed upwards when it was time for my daily 15-minute morning walk. When I returned, I felt... normal. Nothing out of place. I got back to work, but after a few minutes felt a little weird.
Ping and I consulted: 35 mg/dL.
"What?!?!", I shrieked, in the safe silence of my own head. This didn't make any kind of sense. A 15-minute walk at that time of morning is very consistent in bringing me down between 50 -60 points. I had the same amount of IOB as I always do. NOTHING CHANGED.
I ate some dried mango (in retrospect, not the most fast-acting choice, but that darn dietician I saw two weeks ago is still in my head: "You need to eat more fruits!"). I waited 15 minutes, then checked again. I was 65 and heading back up. Whew! Back to work.
An hour later, I'm feeling weird again. Ping, what say you?
41 mg/dL.
"You have got to be flocking kidding me!!!", I once again yelled in my head. Puzzled, I busted out the Starbursts. I ate four, waited 15 minutes. Still reading "LOW" on the Dexcom (which means under 40).
Ate four more.
Waited.
"LOW".
Ate the last four.
Waited.
Ping told me I was at 100, and so I stayed above that for a little while - but only a little.
Lunch came and went. My one-hour post-prandial blood test was 113. (Sweet!) But it came at a price - half an hour later, guess who came a-knockin'?
45 mg/dL.
I ate some more mango, the yogurt I brought but didn't eat yet, and then proceeded to also get a cookie later that afternoon. And you want to know what that did? I peaked at 152. (....really? That's it? After all that carbtasticness? Um, okay...)
I just really don't get it. My basals have been unchanged for weeks, I was eating the same foods I always eat. Bolusing the same exact way. Nothing in my routine changed... except the outcomes.
Um, excuse me, Phil? Could you come back out here, please? I just need...
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| "Outcomes!!!" |
Thanks, buddy. I'm glad to have you on my side.
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(Sidenote: Phil is a ClipArt image a co-worker and I use frequently. Phil gets his name from the fact that he has "had his fill/Phil of this crap". He always speaks in italics, and with multiple exclaimation marks. Sometimes he says "Roight!!" with a Billy Idol-esque flair, but mostly he's just peeved about everything. I have a feeling he'll be making more guest appearances on this blog in the future, so I thought I'd introduce you all to each other.)
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