Counting Down The Days To CGMS
A week ago today, I received my Real-Time Constant Glucose Monitoring System. I had come home from work every day last week hoping that the UPS man would have dropped a package off for me during the day and that it be there at home waiting for me when I walked through the door.
I didn’t ever come home to the package, but one night, as I’m eating dinner the door bell rang. Our door bell doesn’t ring in the evenings so I knew it was something important, I went running towards the front door, put the skid on, slid to the rug and opened the door. There was the box I’d been waiting for all week.
Like a little kid at Christmas, I ripped into that box faster than, hrm, it was fast, so fast you could barely see the box flying to shreds. I had the little sensor out of it’s box very quickly, in just moments I had it on it’s charger and was watching the green light.
It didn’t take me long to start looking for the manual so that I could try this sucker out (yes, I’m the person that will set it all up and walk into the doctor and say “i’ve already done that”). Sadly, I didn’t get the companion guide that usually accompanies these devices so all I got the pleasure of doing was the ability to stare at a big needle and be scared…that needle, it’s seriously enough to make me black out (yes, I’m a diabetic. yes I’ve been dealing with needles for 16 years. no, I don’t handle needles well.)
I sent a few txts back and forth with Laura, who, after only months of talking (we’ve not met yet), knows me far too well. She had her lips sealed very quickly where the operations of the CGMS were concerned. She made sure not to tell me anything and to make sure that I knew that I needed to go see the doctor to get trained. She knew that if I had enough information, I would’ve tried the thing out all on my own…she wasn’t gonna be any part of that.
Luckily for me, I have a sweet Minimed rep and she sent me the manual. I’ve read it, reviewed it, and could put the sensor on by myself (of this I’m confident), but I’d hate to betray the trust of my rep because she’s very nice and easy to work with.
Thus, I wait until Tuesday at 1pm when she’ll show me how to use the sensor.
On a last note, if Minimed is going to be Microsoft Windows centric, they need to ship Virtual PC and Windows to all us Mac users…don’t they know that Mac is a far superior computer when compared to the far too commonplace PC???
An Off Day - It Started When I Got High
Can I just mention that I’m incredibly tired of the cotton mouth, sweaters on my teeth feeling. Why can’t there be hyperglycemic unawareness? That’d be way more convenient for me than the hypoglycemic unawareness that I experience with every low. It’s at times when I have the cotton mouth, sweaters on my teeth feelings that I wonder how I made it through a year without checking my blood or taking insulin…I can’t figure it out, but I digress.
So, I woke up with a cottony mouth, sweaters on my teeth feeling. I knew I was high, I didn’t know why I was high. There was no good reason to be high I thought to myself. I was normal when I went to bed, and I usually don’t wake up high, I usually wake up low. Yeah, there was no reason to be high. I checked my blood 347. Yup, nice and high. Well, not nice and high, I can think of better “nice and highs”, but I was high, in the blood sugar sense of course, I wouldn’t be disturbed if it were any other kind of high…so, i was high, and there was no good reason, that was, until I took off my pajamas.
As my pajama bottoms dropped to the floor, I noticed that there was no tug on my belly from the weight of my pump that should’ve been dangling at my side. It wasn’t dangling at my side, no, it was still in my pajama pocket, and my pajamas were on the floor. And there on top of my pajamas was my pump tubing. Obviously it wasn’t connected to me. I had gone all night with my pump not being connected to me and thus, I was high.
The smart person in me would’ve checked for ketones (make note of this, this is important), but do you think I was smart, no, I was high, I’m not particularly smart when I was high, I don’t think much. So I bolused for my blood sugar but not the ketones that I can be sure that I had (I get them easily, with no insulin for 10 hours, they were probably high too).
When my blood sugar still hadn’t come down 2 hours later, I was frustrated, well, it had come down to 274 but still, that’s high. So at that point, I decided, I don’t care. And that’s the way the rest of my day went.
Later on, after ate lunch and had done some various tasks, I realized that I hadn’t checked my blood or taken insulin for my lunch. I rolled my eyes, shrugged my shoulders, checked my blood (224) and took insulin. Notice, I was still high.
That afternoon, I decided I wanted some peanut M&M’s. This time, the whole thought of checking my blood and bolusing for them didn’t even cross my mind and it was hours later before I remembered. I checked my blood and was 312.
I had been high all day, I had neglected my blood sugars, I hadn’t taken insulin when I needed it and I never checked for ketones. And when it was all said and done, right before bed, do you think I cared, *shakes head* no. But I did take insulin so I’d be normal the next morning because I realized how easy it would be to slip into my state of nothingness where my diabetes is concerned. How easy it would be to ignore and neglect it. How easy it would be to see how many days could go by before I got dangerously sick and almost die again.
Yes, it would be dangerously easy to ignore it all and repeat what I did to myself back in 2003.
My Demons
Yesterday, I went on my first true training ride since being released by the doctor to return to cycling. I went with some fellow Outlaws and I knew it was going to be between a 40-50 mile ride. It wasn’t the distance that bothered me, it was the speed, I know that the Outlaws are fast and I was concerned with whether or not I’d be able to keep up with them. 18 mph was the average of the person that was going to be my rabbit. Before this ride, my idea of me working myself was 15 mph, there was a new slow person in town, ME!
When we started off, we were going about 18 mph, I held up for about 12 or so miles and then I had problems keeping up, even with me having problems keeping up, I was still going 16 mph. It was my fastest ride ever. In that respect I loved the group ride, I always hear “you get fast by riding with fast people” and then at one point I commented “one day I may be able to keep up with y’all” and S. Baboo said “you get strong by riding with strong people.” I felt bad because he’s a fast fast rider and he had slowed waaaaaaaaaaaaay down and was riding with me…
As I reflect on this ride, I could’ve pushed myself faster because I never felt the burn in my legs, I simply just didn’t have the energy, and I know why. I always know why, the blood sugars tell why, which is completely frustrating because I’d really like to have another reason about why I wasn’t pushing myself harder.
I have exactly one demon these days, and I went as far as to comment that I’m never going to be able to do an Ironman if I can’t get past my demons. My demon is diabetes. And really that’s no secret. I’d really like for it to not impede my thoughts when I’m out there doing my thing, but it enters my mind and echos all that I’ve been hearing since I got the damn disease “you can’t do that”. It pisses me off to hear those words in my head. I was hearing them at about 5 miles, I knew by my cottony mouth that my blood sugar was high, a check showed that I was 260. I thought to myself, “it’s ok, you’re going to be high, you ate that Clif bar a half hour ago and only dosed for half of it.” 20 minutes later, I was feeling worse, the voices in my head stronger, I checked, I was 278. I was going the wrong direction, I should’ve been coming down, I was pushing myself hard, I never ride at that intensity, there was no reason for my sugars to be climbing, everything I knew said that they should’ve been coming down.
At this point I was so frustrated that I took some insulin so that I’d come down. And now, looking at things in hindsight, there’s one more thing I should’ve done, I should’ve had some GU and took insulin for it. I hadn’t had any the whole ride and I’m thinking that’s another reason I was having problems keeping up, I had sapped out all my energy and never replenished it. I didn’t have any because my sugars weren’t normal, and thus, the diabetic in me said there was no reason for it. And, the diabetic in me overpowers the athlete in me, and thus, I made a big mistake.
A half hour later, my numbers were beginning to descend and I was 249. An hour and a half later, when the ride was over, I was finally in normal range, I was at 116 and I felt better than I had since getting up and getting ready for the ride.
I don’t know why I went high, I did what I’ve trained to do. I got up at 4:30 to set my basal rate to 50% of my normal intake. A half hour before the ride, I ate my CLIF bar and bolused for half the carbs. I was well hydrated. I was set, I started the ride at 198. I should’ve never gone high, but I did.
In the future, I’ll still have a GU at the 15 mile marks simply because I need it for energy. If I had had a normal blood check, I would’ve eaten one and not bolused, now I know that no matter what my sugar is, be it high or normal, I need to have one, and if I’m high, I’ll need to bolus for it.
Would I have seen that if I hadn’t had my demon in my head, maybe, but who knows, this time, I know that I’ve now learned something else to add to my books…I can’t sacrifice nutrition just because my blood sugars aren’t where I think they should be…
Eight is Great - Colorado Tour de Cure
In four weeks I’ll be riding in what will be the last Tour de Cure of this/my season. It’ll be the fifth one that I’ve ridden in this year. But overall, in my goal of riding in all the Tour de Cures in the country, it will be my 8th. I take that back, this particular ride doesn’t add to my overall total because I’ve already ridden in the Colorado Tour de Cure.
The Colorado Tour de Cure was the 2nd Tour de Cure that I rode in and out of the seven that I’ve done to date, it remains my favorite (although, Phoenix, AZ came in as a fairly close second this year). I’m returning to CO because, it is my favorite, it’s where I’ve had the best experience riding in the various Tour de Cure’s that I’ve ridden in.
If you’re just now hearing about me riding in the Tour de Cure and having done 7 in the last year, let me tell you what’s going on. When diagnosed with diabetes at age 11 back in 1992, I was pretty much told that exercise and diabetes didn’t quite mix. As a result, I spent the better part of 15 years not being the athletic person that I was/am. Last year, I rebelled against everything I knew and decided to start cycling. Being both the scientist and the guinea pig, I experimented with my diabetes and cycling and figured out how to cycle with my diabetes accompanying me.
I rode in my first Tour de Cure in May 2007 and was immediately hooked to the idea of riding in a Tour de Cure in every state. It became a goal to ride in every state. This year I discovered that there are currently 84 Tour de Cure’s held each year within the US. I changed my goal to ride in every Tour de Cure. Of course, there’s always the hope that I won’t get the opportunity to ride in all the Tours. There’s the hope that a cure for diabetes will come along far sooner than it does later; but until that cure presents it self, I will ride.
I ride for myself, for my family members with diabetes, for all my friends with diabetes, for those with diabetes that I don’t know, and for those that will be saved from the torment of diabetes when a cure is found.
As I prepare for the 75 miles that I’ll be riding, I need your help in reaching my goal of raising at least $1000.00 this year. Each mile I ride, each dollar I raise will be used in the fight to prevent and cure diabetes and to improve the lives of all people affected by diabetes.
If you would like to donate, you can do so by clicking here, or on the “Help Support Me in the Colorado Tour de Cure” image in the sidebar to your right.
No matter how small or large, your generous gift will help improve the lives of more than 24 million Americans who suffer from diabetes, in the hope that future generations can live in a world without this disease. Together, we can all make a difference!
Hundred Push Up Challenge
These days of rest are difficult, because really, whatever I didn’t do the day before, in my mind is up for grabs on my days of rest. But, alas, all the books and peoples and websites say rest is important. Normally, I’d run myself into the ground before I rested, but I’m learning new stuff.
So, Monday’s are always days of rests, simply because I probably went out and pushed myself hard over the weekend, at least one day or another.
Last night however, I figured, there’s other stuff I can be doing, it’s almost like resting, because it’s not that hard. HA! that’s what I thought, it’s not that hard…
I’ve been reading blogs as I get the chance and someone mentioned something about the hundred push up challenge and then GeekGrl posted about doing a whole 2 pushups and that brought to the front of my mind the hundred push up challenge.
What this is, is a 6 week training plan to take you from how ever many push ups you can do at a time (for me this was 5, that’s 5 good form push ups) to being able to do 100 consecutive push ups.
I figure, this is actually good because I’ll build upper body strength, which is going to help me, I think, in swimming. I don’t ever think I’ve been so excited to be doing push ups, but something about being able to do 100 in a row, that’s pretty cool. That, and it’s a challenge.
Chunky Monkey 10k Run 2008
Chunky Monkey, who wouldn’t respond to a run named that, it’s named after a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream flavor. The thought of getting Ben and Jerry’s ice cream after a 10k run was an added bonus in getting me out there to run.
I hadn’t done a 10k since the Bolder Boulder. In fact, since being released by the doctor to return to running the furthest I’ve managed to run is 4.5 miles. I really didn’t have any goals other than to 1) finish the run and 2) beat my Bolder Boulder time of 1:23:(and some change). I managed to do both, but it wasn’t easy.
We had to do one lap around the Valley High school track before we were off on our trail, so while I’m making my way to the track I introduce myself to another woman who was making her way to the track. She had a duathlon hat on so it was easy to strike up a conversation with her. I joined her and her friends at the back of the pack on the track and when the horn blew I found that their pace was perfect for me and so I was gonna stick with them. (You see, it was supposed to be all about pace this race. Pace is something I have problems with simply because I want to get out there and go, and I want to go fast. Not pacing myself is also what kindof killed me in the first mile in the Bolder Boulder.)
Running with these women was cool because they had a walk run strategy which is what I like. They would run for 4 minutes and then walk a minute, and it was cool because one of them was wearing something and so it would beep at a 4 minute mark and then again at a 1 minute mark so we knew when to walk and when to begin running again. I didn’t have the brains to ask what it was that they had but whatever it is that they had, I want one, it’s far easier than looking at my watch every so often.
I got about 1.5 miles before my ribs were hurting, on both sides, and (as I so thought to myself) my left intestine (I really have no clue what it was, but it hurt). I guess that’s what’s referred to as a stitch in my side, and I said so, I have a stitch in my side and I slowed down. I knew I had to take deep breaths, and I was told to take deep breaths. The problem with this was, it hurt to take deep breaths. Somehow by mile 3 I was ok again. At about 3 and a half miles I split from the women I was with because I wanted to go a little bit faster than they were going (we had slowed down a bit). I had a goal to reach and I couldn’t reach it at the pace we were going at that point. It was very important to me to do the 10k in less than 1:23.
I made it in under 1:23, barely. I made it in 1:22.(and some change). When I got to the last 100m or so I all out sprinted, it felt nice to be able to be on my toes and be sprinting. I was very excited to have made it.
My splits, as far as I can tell from my watch were:
Mile 1: 12.39.63
Mile 2: 13.31.69
Mile 3: 14.22.75
Mile 4: 13.06.07
Mile 5: 13.14.65
Mile 6-6.2: 15.51.00
The exciting thing about them is that the timing of them is far more even than the times from when I did the Bolder Boulder. I’m going to take that as a sign of improvement 
Diabetes-wise things ran ok. 2 hrs before the run I lowered my basal rate to 70%. I was 126 at this point. An hour before the race I was 117, UH OH! headed in the wrong direction. I let it be though. A half hour before the race, I was 125. I ate a CLIF Builder Bar. Took insulin for only 15 out of the 30 carbs. I washed it down with a bit of e-fuel. I had about 45 carbs in my system at this point. I deemed myself good to go.
At about half way into the run, I checked my blood, I was 164. I was doing ok. When I got to about mile 4.5, I needed to check my blood, my mouth was saying that my blood sugar was high. I had sweaters on my teeth, I was like a cottonmouth snake (actually, do they get their name based on cottony mouths?), I was foaming at the mouth like a dog with rabies. Unfortunately, I had lost my pricker, how I managed that is beyond me, because I had put it back in my little zipper pocket with my machine, and my machine was still there. Needless to say, I didn’t get to check my blood. I steered clear of the e-fuel in my water bottle for fear that I’d been sipping on it too much and not running hard enough to clear it out of my system. I got water when I passed the water stations.
When I got to the end, I was a little bummed because Chunky Monkey ice cream was not in the flavors that were available to us. Only Cherry Garcia and Cookie Dough. I’m not a fan of either one so I just decided to go home without ice cream. When I got to my car and could check my blood again, I did. It was 176. I bolused a little and put a smile on my face because I had run without going low and without going high and I had finished and I had finished a minute faster than the last 10k I ran.
Courtney, It’s Not A 50m Freestyle Swim
Yesterday morning I went up to Cochiti Lake to swim with some fellow Outlaws. I took my wetsuit even though I knew it wouldn’t be necessary. The water had been warm enough 2 weeks ago during my first open water swim to not have my wetsuit, but I’ve got issues with open water swims and figured I can’t drown in my wetsuit no matter what I do, so I’m taking it. Today the water was probably 68-70 degrees.
When I got into the water, F and chiquita (yeah, I can’t remember her name, I wanna say it was a K/C or a D) told me how far they were going to swim, and me, being the weenie that I am, and still being afraid that I’m going to tire out and drown, after asking how far the buoy was, said that’s as far as I was going. It was 400m round trip. That’s actually the perfect distance for me because that’s what level of swimming I’m on in terms of triathlons.
So, I get out there and start swimming and it wasn’t long before I was on my back, back stroking. Yeah, I can’t swim a full 400m freestyle. And today, it wasn’t about being afraid either, it was a “i quickly tire and can’t breathe issue”. The good news is, I made it to the buoy and back without freaking out and I did it in 10 minutes. That’s a 6 minute improvement over my Bottomless Triathlon time. I’m going to say it’s because I could float, I wasn’t fighting with the water, and there weren’t any people around, and my blood sugar was perfect but I’ll talk about my diabetes stuff at the end.
After returning to the shore, I toyed around a bit and marveled in my wetsuits ability to keep me at the top of the water and then I made a second attempt at going the 400m. And, I did it. It just wasn’t all freestyle.
When my teammates got back they asked what was up with the backstroke and I told them I couldn’t freestyle the whole way. So chiquita said, let’s go out there, I’ll swim behind you. Ok, that’s cool, I thought to myself: I can do this and I took off. When I stopped I heard her yell “COURTNEY, it’s not a 50m freestyle swim. You need to slow down and breathe every stroke, not every 6th stroke. The reason you’re tiring out and getting out of breath is because you’re going too fast and not getting enough oxygen.”
Now, I couldn’t argue, because I was counting my strokes as I was swimming, and I made up my mind to breathe every 6th stroke because I needed to breathe. Earlier, I was going 10 strokes without breathing, but then I’d fight to get another 10 strokes without breathing, and then after that I’d have to flip over on my back and back stroke. The thing is, when I used to swim, in my younger yearning to compete years, I was best at 50m freestyle, simply because I could make it almost the full 50m breathing only once or twice. The problem was, even though I was fast, when I was done, I was done. There was nothing left in me to give because I had spent it all on 50m. That’s really the only way I know how to swim. Because what would happen is, if I got 100m freestyle, I was doing good, but then I’d have to switch to doing 50-100m freestyle and then 50-100m backstroke. And that’s the only way I could swim distances.
So, back to the lesson at hand, breathing every stroke. She said, let’s go, breath every stroke. And so I took off, stroke, breathe, stroke, breathe, etc. I stopped not long after I hand started and proclaimed that it was too much breathing. I was told that even the pros will breathe every 3 strokes. And told to continue on.
When I finally got around the buoy I made a comment about taking the sprint out of me and I was informed that sprinters don’t last in endurance sports, they go home early. I didn’t want to be one of those that went home early, I knew that I had a lot to learn at this point.
I continued on, she’d say, go 10 strokes, breathe every stroke. I made it 8. And this would continue. The next time I was told to go 10, I made it 13. When I was told to go 20, I only made it 18, and guess what, I could stand at that point. And she told me that it’s faster to swim than it is to walk through the water.
I learned a lot yesterday morning and I’m anxious to get into the pool this week and practice.
Do A Little Dance
I got a call today from Edgepark. Edgepark is the company that was hired by CIGNA to handle medical devices for diabetes care (or something like that).
So, I get today’s call. It was the third call that I was waiting for in my quest to acquire a CGMS (that’s fully paid for by insurance).
I was very excited to be told that I was approved for a CGMS, it and it’s monthly supplies were fully covered, and that he’d put it in the mail today and I’d receive it early next week.
I was denied the CGMS last year, and the process to get my pump actually took longer (over a month) to get than the mere 4 days it took to get me approved for the CGMS this year.
I’m very excited, and yes, I did do a little dance.
Courtney - 1, Minimed - 0
I got a call from a rep from Minimed. The second person who I was expecting to hear from in my quest to get a CGMS.
She says: “So Courtney, I hear you’re interested in purchasing the REAL-Time Continuous Glucose Monitoring System”
Me: “Actually, I’m interested in having my insurance purchase the CGMS, but yes, I do want one.”
Her: “Well said. That was a good one. I hear you on that.”
Me: *giggle*
And then of course she goes on to tell me about how I should be getting a call from a third party company within the next few days or early next week in regards to my insurance and what’s going to be covered if I’m approved. I thanked her for all her help and all that she’s doing for me (because it isn’t her fault if I get denied) and she said that she’s here for me if I have questions.
With that I hung up and I’m now awaiting a call from the third party (how appropriate is that, third party, third call…)
A1c - It didn’t use to mean anything
It’s probably only been during the last year that I’ve put any thought into my A1c and what it’s meant.
I can remember when it was in the 13-14’s and I was like “eh, whatever”. The A1c always told on me, it didn’t matter how good the numbers in my log were, the A1c would tell the truth. The A1c told the doctors that the numbers in my book were manufactured. They weren’t real. But the reality of it was, I didn’t care. I cared about my A1c about as much as I cared for my diabetes, and the truth is, I didn’t care for my diabetes back then and to this day, I still don’t care for it. I wouldn’t be hurt if it just packed up its bags and left me one day.
My A1c on the other hand, all of the sudden that number means something to me. I’m always concerned and when the doctor comes in it’s all I can do to greet them before I blurt out “what’s my A1c?”
The first time my A1c was below 8 it was because that was when my seizures started happening and there was an abundance of low blood sugars. That was years ago.
Then about 2 years ago, I dropped below 8. It was probably still because of the abundance of lows.
I’d even say that my current A1c of 6.9 is due in part to the abundance of low blood sugars that I have. But I’d also say that over the last year, it’s also due to me checking my blood more regularly, actually taking insulin at mealtimes, stuff like that. Just the general paying more attention to my diabetes.
What pisses me off about this A1c is the one I had 3 months ago was 6.5. That number was more likable. I have a whole list of excuses too as to why my A1c went up. I had a nasty infection for 6 weeks. During that same six weeks I couldn’t exercise, I was in a foul mood, I was stressed, and I was PMSing. Those 6 weeks were practically half of the 3 months between doctor appointments.
But then, I had to be honest with myself. If I had really wanted to fight to keep my A1c at 6.5, I could’ve done so. It was as simple as not not checking my blood because I didn’t want to see the high numbers. It would’ve been as simple as readjusting my basal rates, well, I had at one point, but it was too late. There was stuff that I could’ve done outside of my normal realm to control those numbers. But I didn’t.
So, I’ve got this A1c of 6.9 and I don’t like, and for the last 3 days, I’ve been checking my blood sugar EVERY.TWO.HOURS…I’ve been carefully calculating my carbs and making sure that I took my insulin before I ate and not after. I’ve seen lows, but not as many highs. It’s an improvement. And yet, my need for this 6.5 A1c has got me pissed off because of all the attention I need to pay to my diabetes. I’m not liking it, well, I never have liked it and that’s generally what has caused me to slack off in the past, but now I can’t slack because I’ve got this thing in my life called “triathlons”. I did one with high blood sugars, I liked it about as much as I like the idea of a hole in my head. Coincidentally, I did one with low blood sugars as well and I liked that about as much as I like the idea of a hole in my head.
And so, as I sit here, I’ve got 2 frustrations battling each other. The first being I don’t like my A1c. I liked it better when it was 6.5. The second being I don’t like all the work I have to put into my diabetes to get that 6.5 A1c. Can we say delimma?