The pie chart of my brain

I must remind myself to appreciate that non-diabetics who can recognize an insulin pump for what it is are still rare. I met a teacher last week who told me he had had a couple of students on insulin pumps in the past. “Yea!” I said to myself as I did the victory dance in my mind. Someone who might “get it”. And then his next comment squashed those hopes. “So Pie Chart copythat must mean you never really need to think about your diabetes, right?”

I gently explained that, if anything, having a pump makes me think about all things D-related even more than when I was an insulin-pen-popping person. Is my blood sugar high? Am I crashing? How many carbs in that so I can easily bolus? Will my QuickSet stay stuck through this round of exercise? How much insulin-on-board am I toting around? At 10.0 mmol/L before bed should I give a small bolus or go for a walk? Why do my CGM graphs look like a Jackson Pollack painting? How will my next A1c be and who else will care? How good is “good enough” for us non-professional diabetics. (I am a professional, just not a professional diabetic!)

If only my pump did the worrying for me so I could truly forget the many variables of diabetes that need some dedicated juggling … I’d pay big time for that! In additional to worrying about all things D related, I’d also like this “smart pump” to remind me to send birthday cards, and make me a lovely cafe latte to kick start my day. Bring on that closed loop system, baby!

Being closely connected to the world of Middle School, I think I have a pretty good idea of the pie charts of the thoughts in the brains of many of the kids. But what does mine look like? How much of the pie is devoted to diabetes? How much does my pump let me “forget” about it.

 

 

 

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I’m fine

Diabetogenic

How often do you ask for help because of your diabetes? Yesterday at work, I had a hypo that just wouldn’t quit. I ate the equivalent of the weight of a tram/rhino in jelly beans. It worked eventually, but for a long time I was hovering around the 3.0mmol/l mark, anxiously checking every 10 minutes to see if there was any increase in my BGL, while at the same time waiting for the inevitable spike (yep – came two hours later in the form of a lovely 26.5mmol/l. #DuckingFiabetes).

So, did I call out to anyone and ask for their help? Did I request someone come and sit with me for a bit – at least for the part where I was seriously wondering if standing was a good idea? Nope. Instead, I fought through, guzzling glucose, sitting in meetings, smiling my way through. Anytime I saw someone and…

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