I’ve written about this amidst rants over the past week or so, but I wanted to address it clearly because I feel that it’s worth the time. When I went to the doctor, she took my PDM, and with very little, hurried explanation, she messed with the settings and then handed it back to me and walked out — this is what happened from my perspective, objectively I know that this is probably not exactly what went down. As soon as she took my PDM, something about the way she took it triggered something in me, and I went into a fog, all I knew was that she had something that was mine and she was messing with it, and I couldn’t or didn’t do anything to stop her. I felt exposed, but paralyzed in the chair, like I was observing the scene standing behind my chair, rather than being there myself. I could have spoken up, asked questions, asked for my PDM back, asked to be shown what she was changing or doing, and why — I am usually a proactive patient, coming prepared with questions, participating my own care. This time I was apathetic and shutdown, I was pissed off when she wanted me to come in earlier than usual, irritated to be judged solely on my numbers without being given the chance to explain, or asked if there was anything else going on — just the assumption of non-compliance, I was insulted. I didn’t feel like her assumptions warranted polite reply — instead, I stayed as I was, quiet, still, in my chair. Not asking any questions, no protests, just waiting for her to leave. and she did leave, and then I was just there, wondering what had just happened, what I was supposed to do — she said something about following up with the nurses to make appointments, like hell was I going to do that. A better voice in my head told me that I probably should actually do that, but then, I know what I’m supposed to do in a lot of situations, and that definitely doesn’t mean that it necessarily happens…
I was having trouble concentrating today, after hours of fighting to stay concentrated, then falling into tv, fading into over thinking, and then all of a sudden I knew I was on an edge, not a relapse edge, but an edge all the same — I text a sober friend, and another friend, and my sponsor… anyway, the result of all this reaching out for help (the thought of which still makes me cringe) was a conversation with my sponsor which made me feel a lot better — she said to me that in speaking with her that I had “dropped the rock.” I’m not sure if this is what she meant by that, but what came to mind for me was running underwater and needing to drop the rock in order to surface for air… this was by far the coolest picture I was able to find of this… I see myself as the swimmer on the left. This is where I stop trying to separate parts of my life — I am emotionally upset, I still check my blood sugar, I don’t assume it’s one thing or the other, I just have to treat the whole Sophie, as a whole, in whatever manner is required at that moment. And at this moment while I need to change my pod, and do a bunch of other things I’m sure… all I can think about is how violated I felt when my doctor took my PDM away and made changes to it without explaining or including me in the decisions. I accept that my reaction to this is my own, but it does not make it any less valid. It’s been over a week and I can still feel that empty exposed feeling of sitting in that doctor’s office being told off, and then they didn’t even know how to make the changes properly and had to then hand my PDM off to yet another person to adjust/correct/fix whatever it was they were doing. I don’t even remember what she was saying or what they did. All I know is that it doesn’t seem to have done much, the best thing that has happened for my diabetes since then has been going back to crossfit — while a bit scary, it seemed to have a great effect on my numbers for the rest of the day — I will need to remember to eat more, but my post-workout numbers were encouraging. Ending on a high note… planning on working out again tomorrow… TBD
What my Omnipod could look like… with a peel from pumppeelz.com
I don’t so much hate the omnipod, so much as I hate the whole idea of a pump. yet another thing being attached to me (I already have a CGM), something putting insulin into my body without my active consent (i.e. an injection), having to depend on something else to live… another something else. a something else with a battery. something else that could fail me. something else that I will be dependent on. that I will have to trust. Fuck this.
When I got off of the phone with the doctor’s office, after finally conceding to starting on the pump, I was surprised to feel relieved, I knew I would feel scared and hesitant, and cautiously optimistic, but I did not expect to feel relieved. So here’s the dilemma, I hate it (the omnipod), but I’m also really ready for things to be better. I hate letting myself get hopeful, because then my hopes can be dashed, whatever it was I was counting on will fall through and I’ll be even worse off for having had hope in the first place… now putting that personal baggage to the side for a moment… will the omnipod make my life better? easier? am I delusional? is everyone lying to me? the support groups seem to be in favor of pumps in general, but then I have heard bad reviews too. Once you’ve decided on starting with a pump, it seems similar to buying a fridge — everyone has an opinion, but in the end they are pretty much all the same. The real question is — do I even want a fridge? what if I like my ice chest? is it really and ice chest or is it just an equal fridge-type thing that gets a bad rap for being less cool than a fridge when really it’s just the same… I think I’ve lost my point in the metaphor. I am not in love with the idea of the pump, however, it seems that my doctor is… or at least it is what she thinks will help me manage my diabetes best. If it has to be a pump, at least it doesn’t have any tubing, I think it helps that the omnipod will essentially feel like just a larger CGM, it’s not as startling to my reality this way. I know that there are other things that will be different, but at least the aspect of wearing something on my body isn’t totally new… I mean that’s something…
I don’t like things that I don’t know. Lack of knowledge prevents me from making fail proof plans around every aspect of something. I strongly dislike things without fail proof plans. It seems recently that nothing has a fail proof plans. I’m not happy with much lately. I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of getting the pump. I’m scared of not getting the pump. I just want to feel better. I want to feel better. I don’t want to have to worry about all the things I have learned to worry about. I don’t want to worry about the things that I don’t know enough about to worry about and what I’m going to figure out tomorrow that I will then wish I had known earlier and will then double worry about from then on. I just want to be okay and to not have to worry so much. and to not die. and maybe also to not have diabetes. if I’m just saying everything I want here and not sticking to possible and/or rational things. while I’m at it, could I ask for a working support system… one where both I am capable of asking for support and those I ask are capable of providing it — I don’t think that one is possible.
So I went to my endo last week, turns out that I’m only 30% controlled, which is no where near the goal of 70%. Not only did she recommend the pump, but also instructed me to take my basal insulin 12 hrs apart rather than just at night and in the morning — which for me was usually 6-8 hours apart… So, setting aside the pump thing, because I’m still processing on that, I am trying (emphasis on trying) to take my basal insulin 12 hours apart. I am also convinced that this impossible. I get up around 6:30 to 8am on weekdays, going to bed around midnight, which means I either have to remember to take basal at lunch (nope) or take it at 8pm (nope)…which means I don’t really take it when I wake up or when I go to bed, which ends up with me not knowing when I should take it, when I last took it or even if I did take it… disaster. So much for the 12 hour split providing more control… I need to get those insulin pen cap timers … Well Diabetes, you have earned yourself yet another DISLIKE. Also, Fuck you.
I woke up at 160. I made coffee, ate something, and went to work out. I made it through my workout with a half-way test of 183. Post-workout I’ve come in at 243. Not great, but I’m going to address it. I’m not going to panic and freak out, I’m going to do my best and monitor my progress. I’m going to the doctor later today and I will clearly explain what my experience has been and where I think I need help. I will listen to her advice and try my best to heed her direction. I will not beat myself up or hold myself to the overachiever’s standard of perfection. I say all of this, knowing that I will not be able to do any of it perfectly, but knowing that I am going to try my best to take care of myself physically and emotionally.
So, in summary, today is going to be better, because I say so.
Truth: I have not been taking care of my diabetes to the best of my ability
Truth: I know better and am capable of better
Truth: the only reason I’m admitting/facing this right now is because I have to go to the doctor next week
Truth: I’m cutting myself more slack than I deserve, I’m still new at this, but that does not cover actively choosing to eat anything I want rather than following guidelines of any sort
Truth: On my way home last night, I didn’t stop at 7-11 and buy myself that giant chocolate bar I wanted. #GoMe
So frustrated today. I went to have blood work done… yet another appointment to try to work into my schedule. I booked the appointment for 8am, figuring I would be able to just get it done and get to the office. First off, I had to eat enough last night in order to be high enough this morning so I didn’t need to eat when I woke up (and not worry about passing out while driving to the lab). Then I forgot the lab orders and had to drive back to my house. Then I realized I’d taken my vitamins… would that mess up the fasting?! Then they wanted a urine sample… and I did not have to pee. I was ready to bag the whole thing and try again next time (never mind the fact that I need to get all this done in time for my next doctor’s appointment, that is now quickly approaching). The wonderful lab tech was able to “talk me off the ledge” and resolve everything as best as possible. Even with the okay ending, this really did set my morning off kilter… but I’m trying to recover and/or start over now.
A serious question for you Diabetes, how am I going to fit all these extra doctor appointments, blood work, diabetic educator appointments and dietitian sessions into my schedule with a full-time job?!
- Always fast before blood tests, even if you’re not sure
- Always drink a bunch of water, just in case
- Study up on the blood tests that are being ordered so I can understand what they are testing for
Today was terrible. I know that the diabetic educator was just trying to help, but really?! this disease wants me to entertain having something attached to my body at all times? like a sick old person? No. No thank you very much, I decline. Add to that when I walked into the appointment there was a second patient chair sitting there looking at me, as if to ask, “really? no one here to support you?” and in my head I’m like “No, fuck you chair. I don’t need anyone else’s help with this stupid disease”… and then the nurse started talking to me about glucagon, as you may know, my dearest diabetes, glucagon is what I require when I don’t do an adequate job of being my own pancreas and pass out due to low blood sugar… at this point there is nothing I can do. There is no point in me having glucagon, it’s for someone else to help me, when I literally wouldn’t be able to do it for myself. Well I’m sure you can guess how well that went down with me… I think my exact reaction was “No.” The rest of the appointment was pretty much useless at that point, I was paralyzed by the fact that this disease is forcing me to be dependent on others — which I hate, because I am an island and I need no one (okay, I know that’s not true, but I have a really hard time accepting that that is not the truth).
I’m really just scared. I talked to a friend about all of this today, I’m so lucky to have her in my life. She has done this already. I am always surprised when I reach out for help and the other person is there and willingly — what a wonderful world. What I was able to take out of our conversation today is that my life is not going to be the same, I am not going to be able to adjust my old life to diabetes, and that’s okay. I am going to build a new life, one that includes taking care of this new part of my life, and it’s scary and I can be upset about it, but it’s also still going to be okay. Maybe if I say it a hundred times I’ll be able to believe it.