Dear Diabetes, you suck.

a front end developer who also happens to have type 1 diabetes

Tag: Insulin (page 1 of 2)

Simplified Night Scout Phone List

Below is the summarized list of phones that I used to make my decision when building my Night Scout Device*

Night Scout Phone List


*It should be noted I compiled this list based on available Night Scout information, after first failing using another phone. Additionally, this list does not include carrier information, some phones have only been tested on specific carriers, for my purposes I assumed that the technology was based on the device and would be compatible with a wifi only build, and then later with a build on a major carrier — this is not necessarily true, it was my assumption that has held so far for my builds.

Phantom Sensors

PoofMoving the omnipod around has had an odd side effect. I am rightly sensitive/protective of my “equipment” … still haven’t found the right word. If either my dexcom or omnipod are pulled/ripped off or dislodged in any way, or even jostled out of place in the wrong way, they will not work — this is not only unsafe for me, as I wear them for a reason, but it’s also expensive if I have to replace the sensors more than prescribed. then there’s also the matter of just feeling the “equipment” on my body. when I roll over in bed. when I put my hand in my pocket because I think my keys are in there, and it turns out it’s my sensor. I catch it on something or I can just feel it when sitting in a chair, or leaning against something — needing to make sure that the way I’m leaning isn’t pulling it away from my body… here’s the thing though… I’m now feeling my sensor in places that they’re not… more than once now, I’ve been sitting and reached back check that my omnipod is okay — and it’s on my arm. I twist one way to grab something and then check that my dexcom is okay… it’s on the other side. Now, not only am I avoid/protecting my “equipment” but I’m also avoid/protecting anywhere I place equipment all the time, whether or not there is any “equipment” there. fuck this. where can I opt out. I’m so done. I hate that this is changing my behavior. I hate that I am having to change my behavior for this disease. or that this disease is forcing changes in my life. or that I have to make changes in my behavior for this device. this is all chicken and the egg bullshit. I’m just mad. fuck diabetes.

Omnipod induced hibernation

Casey's take on hibernation

Casey’s take on hibernation

A few days ago I realized that I had stopped writing… for me that is not a good sign. It means that I am stuffing down my feelings and ignoring the pain, or taking the joy for granted. Writing, here or anywhere, helps me process life, whatever it may be at the time.

The biggest thing I have been denying lately is the omnipod… all aspects of it.

I basically told no one. my way of lying to myself. the short list was on a need to know basis — a friend I had dinner with (had to bolus), my parents (because they asked me direct questions and I didn’t want to straight up lie to people who care about me), a few others… but only in unavoidable situations. My first two insertions on my own were terrible. The third I did with a friend there and it was oddly okay. I felt like maybe I was getting the hang of it. I’ve even started to feel hungry again, still battling with avoiding food as to avoid messing with my numbers, but even being hungry is progress.

My numbers are good — even when I’m not eating… and thanks to the omnipod basal rate, I am receiving insulin all day, even though it is a very small amount, that is what is keeping me well. It is inescapable, I need this insulin to be well. even if it’s 1 unit, I need it. I have diabetes. If I didn’t have diabetes I wouldn’t need any additional insulin to be well. even though it’s small, it’s there… and I need it. I have diabetes. I didn’t even know that this denial was still in me until I started writing this. I feel like the kid in school that is forced to write lines as punishment… I have diabetes. I have diabetes. I have diabetes. maybe a few hundred more times and it will get it into my head. I am never going to function without help — even if there is better and better technology or a cure, I will not get better or live well on my own. that thought needs to die. I will not be able to move forward with caring for myself if I’m still holding out hope that this will all just disappear. like magic.

Maybe omnipod isn’t my biggest source of denial after all.

post-appointment vow of silence

I feel like this picture captures my inner monk -- part vow of silence, part gangster, lol -- Photo by Joel Collins

I feel like this picture captures my inner monk — part vow of silence, part gangster, lol — Photo by Joel Collins

after meeting with the rep I told know one. I saw two people I knew at the place I met the rep, so I was honest with them. I admitted to my parents and my friend I went to eat with that night, but that was it. and I was not going to tell anyone else. posting on this site was the next person I told. I don’t know why. I guess somehow it felt like if I kept it a secret then no one would ask me any questions and then I could pretend that it wasn’t there. I was embarrassed by it, more so than I was by giving shots — I guess because it was new again, or new to me…? I relaxed a bit and started being upfront when asked about diabetes, or about what was going on with me… since that is the thing that most occupies my thoughts these days.

I went to a friend’s birthday party last night and wouldn’t have felt comfortable in a bathing suit around any other group of people, it’s the first time anyone has seen me with both devices beyond a “yes, this is what it is.” I got a few questions, but they were inquisitive and supportive… “I prefer ironman or the bionic woman” being one of my answers. It was a great way to “rip the bandaid” on being open about this next step in my diabetic journey. Not that I need to tell everyone or be an omnipod poster child, but I have found that I feel better in life and in myself when I am open and honest in all aspects of my life. It might be awkward and painful now, but if I’m honest and address it for what it is now, the stress associated with it will diminish and the changes that I need to make become part of my life, quietly, without worry or difficulty. This is my experience with all other changes in my life. I feel rather zen while writing this, but it is true — when I can move into acceptance, or at least address why I am resistant or resentful, I immediately feel better — it is this honest that has helped me get to this point. now if I can keep that going… maybe I will be able to tell Diabetes to “shove it” from a place of honesty and acceptance.. hmmm, that doesn’t seem to totally fit… haha

Ominpod, you’re not even here yet and I maybe hate you

What my Omnipod could look like… with a peel from

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.

Not again.

[Full Disclosure: I’m currently drinking a juice box… yeah, you do the math]

Casey does not like lows. Although not officially trained, she has been know to alert me to a low faster than my dexcom. #GoodPuppy #GoCasey #CaseytheTripod

Casey does not like lows. Although not officially trained, she has been know to alert me to a low faster than my dexcom. #GoodPuppy #GoCasey #CaseytheTripod

So, I was just winding down, watching tv, playing a game on my phone, thinking about getting up to brush my teeth, etc… when I realize that Undercover Boss is making me tear up… and I feel a little hot, and light headed… and… oh crap. just as I go to test, my dexcom goes off, it’s okay — I have the alarm set to 75 (so I have time before it’s “really” bad)…. um, yeah… so my meter reads… 63. the worst part about this is that in my head I’m saying “that’s not that low” — well yeah… except I’m already fogging out. and my dog is just laying next to me looking at me like “really mom… again?!” I thought I would finish getting ready for bed before getting some juice… not the best choice, never mind the logic of drinking juice after brushing my teeth… bad taste and bad dental hygiene… it took me probably 15 minutes to brush my teeth, take a pill, and get a juice box out of the fridge… I think I walked in and out of my kitchen at least half a dozen times. I’m done with the juice box now, I also ate some insurance (a granola bar) to get me through the night.

Here’s the worst part… I know exactly why I got here. My eating habits suck. The food I eat may not be that bad, I’m not binging on doughnuts (anymore… or at least not lately), but.. let’s think of a nice way to say this… I am not keeping to a diet that best supports maintaining stable and healthy blood sugar for a diabetic. What do I mean by that artfully crafted statement you may ask… well, let’s start with today. Breakfast was normal — I’ve trained myself into eating breakfast, I hate eating in the morning, but now that it’s routine, I sort of forget that part and just do it. From there it goes down hill, I skipped lunch — I thought I would just have a yogurt at the office, but we were out for whatever reason, so instead of being responsible and going to get something… I just eat whatever I want… in the roughly 9 hours in the office I ate 1/4 bagel (I didn’t eat any more of it because it was stale), two chewy bars, and a bag of pop chips… and gave no insulin for any of it. So then I came home, and as you can probably imagine, I was running a bit high, so I figure out the correction and figure in what I’m about to eat for dinner (rice, black beans, chicken/steak… semi alright dinner), and round down and then give myself insulin… I know the ratios my doctor recommended are too heavy handed, but I don’t trust myself, even though it’s my body. I thought rounding down would do it. Nope. It took a few hours, but here I am, again. And now it’s time to go to bed. What if I go low in the middle of the night? Casey, while she can stare at me with an exasperated look, cannot administer glucagon if I wait to long and do not call for help. As my diabetic friend put it when I was telling her that I had hit 29 and been able to drink juice and been fine… “you didn’t know that the sprite would work fast enough, and if it hadn’t you’d be dead” — talk about a sobering thought (that statement is humorous because both of us are sober).

Well, now all that is left is for me to sign off and go to bed… wish me luck. Until the morning.

Update [Bad Night]:


Dinner and the ensuing crash, lots of snacks and then another crash. And close up proof of me being ridiculously irresponsible and ignoring the alarms all morning. And yes, I decided that now would be a great time to change out my sensor #notsobright #FuckDiabetes

Last night, in addition to my granola bar “insurance,” I drank another juice box… assuming that 58 carbs would be more than enough to safely carry me through the night. wrong. wrong wrong wrong. Here are some snap shots to help convey the madness.

So… that’s how my night went. basically, just shitty. I’m still weirdly hot. and I still haven’t eaten anything. call it rebellion. against myself. so really I’m just screwing myself and risking a hospital visit. or death. nbd. except actually a big deal. Fuck all of this. I feel like shit.

oh yeah… and I’m starting to regularly “snooze” my dexcom… which is not only unsafe, but also results in being woken up repeatedly, rather than actually getting back to sleep, which then results in me being exhausted and leaves me questioning whether the exhaustion is really exhaustion or just a symptom of the continued low blood sugar. Fuck me. Fuck Diabetes. Fuck Everything.

12 hours. Impossible.

Facebook-Thumbs-DownSo 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.

Dear Diabetes, Why do you hate food?

Sitting at my desk. Hungry. Today I’ve had a yogurt, a small sprite (blood sugar), and a packet of powdered doughnuts (sort of blood sugar) — that totals 550 calories. It also makes me that girl that tells you what she’s eaten today. If my blood sugar is at an okay level, do I need to eat? The answer is not yes or no, but another question — are you hungry? Do you need to eat calories? At 4pm today I was uncontrollably falling asleep, even though my blood sugar was fine… I was confused, there was an errant thought that maybe I haven’t eaten enough today, but I am convinced that that’s not it. I am hungry, but my blood sugar is okay, so I won’t eat anything. I’ll wait until my sugar is low enough that I have to emergency eat and then my sugar will spike up and again I won’t want to eat anything, because then I’ll have to give insulin and what if I give the wrong amount and then I crash, or if I don’t give enough and I go too high… the easy option is just not to eat anything unless absolutely necessary. My logical brain knows that this is the wrong choice, an unhealthy choice, but I’m scared and sad and mad and I have a headache. I feel like an idiot. Of course I don’t feel well… I haven’t provided my body with the calories it needs to function (enter excuses: but I’m at a fine/a little over weight or I ate yesterday, I should be okay). Again, my rational brain knows that this is not right, but I do nothing about it. I’ve been thinking about going to get something to eat for the last two hours, while my headache gets worse and I just sit here, whining about it to the internet. Everything I think of isn’t nutritious or wouldn’t be diabetic friendly. I’m so overwhelmed. Part of me doesn’t want to address this, but I know my current path/behavior is not sustainable. I hate change. my head hurts. I’m tired. my throat is dry and I’m stuffy and phlemy from allergies. I’m probably (definitely) dehydrated. Fuck Diabetes. I should probably get something to eat.

Apparently, a person needs about 2000 calories per day… so I’m roughly 1500 off the mark… Chipotle it is… now to convince myself to leave the house…

[Update: It took me another 2 hours to go get food… but I made it out of the house and ate. #GoTeamSophie #smallvictories]

Dear Diabetes, You want me to put what? where?!

So, I had a doctor’s appointment today — this is the one I had to run around and get all this blood work done for and reschedule 3 times and I finally went in and it’s like nothing mattered except for my last 3 days of numbers… incredibly deflating. And now she (the doctor) wants me to go onto a continuous glucose monitor (CGM)… it makes sense, I get it from a logical standpoint — from 421 to 71 (mg/dL) in less than two hours is no joke, but I am still having a hard time with accepting that there will be something attached to me (ick). Something attached to me all the time… it’s just a weird concept… I’m not sure why I find it so much weirder than wearing the same necklace or earrings everyday, which I do all the time, but for some reason it feels like it will be different. This will be something that I will depend on… okay, that part is getting easier, because there is no way I’m ever going to be able to be an island, fully self-reliant, as I always dreamed… it’s time for reality… I will always be dependent upon insulin, and testing, and by proxy, other people, whether they are doctors, friends, or support. At least the CGM she’s recommending doesn’t have any wires… it will sort of be just like having another phone… one that tells me the pattern of my blood sugar, that will be helpful. It’s still weird though… I reached out to my sister for some support as I was leaving the doctor’s office… and this is what she said…


I love my sister. Here’s to finding a CGM that can also make me fly… haha

Dear Diabetes, Hell No.

Hell No. That was my reaction when I first heard about the options of an insulin pump and/or a glucose monitor. I still hate the idea of having something attached to me, really hate it… but, I’ve been experiencing so many lows recently, it has started to get scary. I get in denial about feeling low and then to compound that I seem to be able to drop 200+ points in an hour and a half or less #fml. It’s gotten so bad I actually started to consider a glucose monitor as an actual option… the reality of it just seems terrible, but if the alternative is passing out and maybe dying (see: I feel sick. I might die?)… maybe it’s worth a closer look.

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