I often describe myself as an anxious and nervous individual, so it's a wonder I was able to stay as committed as I have been this past year and was able to make it to this milestone. I think most will agree, relationships are not easy. I was able to learn that first hand throughout the year. It takes hard work, commitment, and passion for the cause, all three I think I have strived towards and have been successful at. On this day I just want to reflect on where I was exactly one year ago.
It was around this time of the afternoon I was heading over to the doctor's office for a check up where I learned that my blood glucose was too high for the meter to read and that there was glucose present in my urine sample - two things that I had no knowledge of the implications and the journey I was about to begin. I will not retell the story as it is in one of my first few blog posts - but the contrast in the confusing, devastating and overwhelming feelings I felt that day, to the amount that I now know about myself as a result of this experience is almost thrilling. I feel like I conquered. I feel accomplished. I remember last year feeling so consumed by my new lifestyle and thinking that my life was lost and over. My days are still consumed by my diabetes. From the moment I wake up until I go to sleep there are very few things that I do that do not involve at least a thought about what my blood sugar might be at that moment. However, I feel I progressed this year and I am proud of myself. I was asked how I feel about this one year milestone and oddly, I can really say I feel good. The downside that I always note is that the all consuming nature of this disease causes you to forget what life was like without it. I am lucky that I lived 23 years until it decided to grace me with it's presence and take over my life. Children are diagnosed with this disease as young as months old, and parents' lives end up being equally effected, maybe even more so than the child's. However, those years now seem unreal to me, considering the day to day operations I go through. But as I said above, I feel success. I did not think I would make it to this day one year ago, but I took this year day by day, and before I knew it, it was here.
My only wish would be that my diabetes would feel as celebratory as I do on this day. But no, it is selfish. On the morning of our one year anniversary, do you know what it did? It gives me a blood sugar of 250 upon waking up! What kind of gift is that? It does what it wants and never consults with me first. But I guess this is the way it will always be and I just need to accept that. It will always be a one way relationship with me doing all the work and making compromises, and it just chillin, throwing me the punches, running the show. It is a challenge, but one that I am up for.
Luckily, I have some very incredible and important people in my life that have more than compensated for what this year has been. You know who you are and I could not have made it through this year without you. Thank you for being there, for your sensitivity, and for giving me the strength and confidence I needed to do this.
So a happy one year anniversary to me and my D's. I look forward to many more years to come!
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
First time in Europe, for myself AND the OmniPod
I guess I should start by apologizing for how much time has passed since my last post but I think I will look at that as a positive: there is life after being diagnosed with diabetes and I have been able to live a little of it these past few months.
I just returned home a few days ago from an amazing trip to Spain with my amazing roommate, friend, and mama, Jackie. I want to skip for a moment to the depressing conclusion of our wonderful trip, the ride back to Manhattan from JFK. We passed by Citi Field, the Mets new home. Jackie commented, "oh Citi Field, I still haven't been there." To me, Citi Field is a landmark in my diabetes diagnosis as it was my first outing with my meter, shots, and food since I had been in my house after being discharged from the hospital. I told Jackie that I remembered my dad asking me last August if I wanted to go to the Met game with him. My face must have turned immediately tense (which probably wasn't a big change from how it looked daily at that time), because he followed up by reassuring me that we could do it however I wanted, go whenever, leave whenever, or even not go at all. My thoughts were racing, would I eat lunch before or after? What if I'm low? What if I'm high? What if I'm tired? After thinking it over though, I made the decision to make that my first excursion with my meter, shots, and lunch! I remember checking my blood sugar, giving a shot, and eating a tuna sandwich in my seat while watching the game and being so proud of myself but so exhausted at the same time. All I could think about what was how much thought and time goes into each and every thing I do with the Big D and while I was brave that day, I couldn't fathom that this would be the rest of my life. It seemed like any sort of fun activity or social experience was being taken from me and I would never feel safe without one of my parents by my side again, at 23 years old. Fast-forward to July 20th 2011, at 24 years old, coming up on only one year of living with the Big D, I am in a cab coming back from Spain! Granted, I was with my other Mama (for all you who are not in on that joke, just know it's Jackie), my real mother (Rebecca), put it perfectly - "now you know you can really do anything."
The minute the trip was booked I immediately started having nightmares. My pump is going to break, my insulin is going to spoil, the insulin vial is going to crack in my bag and spill everywhere. Thoughts were racing that I couldn't do it. But I kept reminding myself, I am not the first nor the last person that has diabetes, and that has traveled with it. While there are certain close minded diabetics that will tell you how impossible things are, I made sure to do my research and speak to the right people beforehand. I was reassured that people in Spain have diabetes too and should anything happen, it can get taken care of.
Our itinerary was Madrid to Ibiza. After our successful trip had ended, my mother confessed to having been very nervous when I told her I was going to Ibiza, "All I was thinking was, Ibiza?? She can't just go to New Jersey??" But she told me she didn't want to say anything and discourage me because she knew this was an important and much needed trip. I told her she made the right move because had she been honest with me about her concerns I probably wouldn't have gone. I got a lot of support from my family and doctors that this was something that I not only could do, but needed to do after my extremely stressful year of school and health issues.
Initially, the airports concerned me the most. Our first leg of the trip in JFK ended up going extremely smoothly though. Jackie worked her magic at check in and told the man behind the desk that she needed to sit next to her diabetic babe in case of an emergency and he assigned us a cozy seat together, although he was not able to upgrade us to first class despite our request. At security, probably my biggest fear, they didn't even open my bag, and I was SO prepared. Everything packaged so nicely, needles, insulin, pods, and several copies of letters from my doctor that all these supplies were necessary and that my insulin pump was not able to be removed. And none of this was even looked at - I was almost disappointed. Aside from several lows throughout the flight, it went very smoothly and we touched down in Madrid and 11 AM Spain time. Once we settled into our hotel I immediately felt calmer. With the insulin safely in the minibar refrigerator and all my bags set down, I felt like I was able to breath again and Jackie and I did as the Spanish do - we took a nice long SIESTA. We woke up at 5 PM to begin, yes, BEGIN, our first day in Madrid. The sun was shining and Lola and Elena were ready to take on Spain. The main stress at that point was that I felt like I needed to hold on to my pod for dear life as we were seriously warned about the pick-pocketing. From our own personalized walking tour, to a pub crawl later that night, to a weekend in Madrid, and many many stops at our favorite hookah bar (couldn't leave that part of us at home), I survived Madrid. On to IBIZA!!
We needed to experience Ibiza on our own to fully understand what everyone meant about it being "so crazy." So the first anecdote, re: diabetes, was at the Madrid airport going to Ibiza. I was a big shot now, no one had stopped me in JFK, no problems in Madrid, but after my bags went through security the guards saw something suspicious and wanted to look through my bags. So there it started - pulling out ziplock bags of pods, needles, etc. with puzzled looks on their faces. I was about to show them my letter but because of the language barrier I realized it wasn't going to do any good. So I just kept saying "diabetes, insulin", and pointed to my pump and my medical ID bracelet. Jackie then asked the woman behind us, "how do you say diabetes in Spanish?" "Diabetes," the woman replied. So I knew the guard understood. And everything was going fine, he just needed a look. Aside from all the glucose tablets and other in case of emergency treats, I had yogurts and a container of cream cheese in my bag, two staples from Madrid. Before we left Madrid Jackie and I decided we would try to get it through and if they make us throw it out then at least we tried. When the guard saw the food he said in Spanish, "I will let you take the yogurts because you have diabetes but I have to take away the cream cheese." Without even asking for an explanation of why, I took my bag and just nodded and smiled, relieved to be through this whole ordeal. Two steps away from the guard I jut broke down crying. For those of you who know me, this should not come as a surprise. Nothing bad happened, if anything it was a positive experience. Even with the language barrier I was able to explain the need for everything I had and successfully get through security. I just felt very overwhelmed, heart racing, and shaky from the whole experience as it was my first time having to deal with it. Jackie and I took a few steps to the side to compose myself. She reassured me that I did great and everything was fine, things that I knew but just needed to cry it out. Suddenly, the guard crept up behind us and offered us back the cream cheese. We immediately grabbed it and started cracking up. The mood was light again, we got through it, and even had our cream cheese back!
The rest of the trip was incredible. After the Ibiza "process" (for Mama), we enjoyed great beaches, beach parties, parties parties, fiestas and not enough siestas. The other main challenge of the trip was how low I went throughout the day. The combination of walking and "partying" that we did almost made it feel like I didn't have diabetes for I was constantly lowing my basal dose of insulin. For all those who don't know what the "basal" is, please direct your questions to Jackie because she is extremely well versed in diabetes management these days. The amount of glucose tablets I went through on this one week trip is more than I think I've gone through this entire year! But it was worth it. The trip was incredible and our depressed state the last day just goes to show how much fun we really had. This trip was amazing for anyone, but it was specifically important so that I can prove to myself that I won't be stopped from anything. It's scary that I can't remember what life was like without my frienD and I'm only a week shy of a year with it, but at least I can say that this whole year was a year of firsts, and I am going to continue to experience new things and learn more that I can do anything I want.
I just returned home a few days ago from an amazing trip to Spain with my amazing roommate, friend, and mama, Jackie. I want to skip for a moment to the depressing conclusion of our wonderful trip, the ride back to Manhattan from JFK. We passed by Citi Field, the Mets new home. Jackie commented, "oh Citi Field, I still haven't been there." To me, Citi Field is a landmark in my diabetes diagnosis as it was my first outing with my meter, shots, and food since I had been in my house after being discharged from the hospital. I told Jackie that I remembered my dad asking me last August if I wanted to go to the Met game with him. My face must have turned immediately tense (which probably wasn't a big change from how it looked daily at that time), because he followed up by reassuring me that we could do it however I wanted, go whenever, leave whenever, or even not go at all. My thoughts were racing, would I eat lunch before or after? What if I'm low? What if I'm high? What if I'm tired? After thinking it over though, I made the decision to make that my first excursion with my meter, shots, and lunch! I remember checking my blood sugar, giving a shot, and eating a tuna sandwich in my seat while watching the game and being so proud of myself but so exhausted at the same time. All I could think about what was how much thought and time goes into each and every thing I do with the Big D and while I was brave that day, I couldn't fathom that this would be the rest of my life. It seemed like any sort of fun activity or social experience was being taken from me and I would never feel safe without one of my parents by my side again, at 23 years old. Fast-forward to July 20th 2011, at 24 years old, coming up on only one year of living with the Big D, I am in a cab coming back from Spain! Granted, I was with my other Mama (for all you who are not in on that joke, just know it's Jackie), my real mother (Rebecca), put it perfectly - "now you know you can really do anything."
The minute the trip was booked I immediately started having nightmares. My pump is going to break, my insulin is going to spoil, the insulin vial is going to crack in my bag and spill everywhere. Thoughts were racing that I couldn't do it. But I kept reminding myself, I am not the first nor the last person that has diabetes, and that has traveled with it. While there are certain close minded diabetics that will tell you how impossible things are, I made sure to do my research and speak to the right people beforehand. I was reassured that people in Spain have diabetes too and should anything happen, it can get taken care of.
Our itinerary was Madrid to Ibiza. After our successful trip had ended, my mother confessed to having been very nervous when I told her I was going to Ibiza, "All I was thinking was, Ibiza?? She can't just go to New Jersey??" But she told me she didn't want to say anything and discourage me because she knew this was an important and much needed trip. I told her she made the right move because had she been honest with me about her concerns I probably wouldn't have gone. I got a lot of support from my family and doctors that this was something that I not only could do, but needed to do after my extremely stressful year of school and health issues.
Initially, the airports concerned me the most. Our first leg of the trip in JFK ended up going extremely smoothly though. Jackie worked her magic at check in and told the man behind the desk that she needed to sit next to her diabetic babe in case of an emergency and he assigned us a cozy seat together, although he was not able to upgrade us to first class despite our request. At security, probably my biggest fear, they didn't even open my bag, and I was SO prepared. Everything packaged so nicely, needles, insulin, pods, and several copies of letters from my doctor that all these supplies were necessary and that my insulin pump was not able to be removed. And none of this was even looked at - I was almost disappointed. Aside from several lows throughout the flight, it went very smoothly and we touched down in Madrid and 11 AM Spain time. Once we settled into our hotel I immediately felt calmer. With the insulin safely in the minibar refrigerator and all my bags set down, I felt like I was able to breath again and Jackie and I did as the Spanish do - we took a nice long SIESTA. We woke up at 5 PM to begin, yes, BEGIN, our first day in Madrid. The sun was shining and Lola and Elena were ready to take on Spain. The main stress at that point was that I felt like I needed to hold on to my pod for dear life as we were seriously warned about the pick-pocketing. From our own personalized walking tour, to a pub crawl later that night, to a weekend in Madrid, and many many stops at our favorite hookah bar (couldn't leave that part of us at home), I survived Madrid. On to IBIZA!!
We needed to experience Ibiza on our own to fully understand what everyone meant about it being "so crazy." So the first anecdote, re: diabetes, was at the Madrid airport going to Ibiza. I was a big shot now, no one had stopped me in JFK, no problems in Madrid, but after my bags went through security the guards saw something suspicious and wanted to look through my bags. So there it started - pulling out ziplock bags of pods, needles, etc. with puzzled looks on their faces. I was about to show them my letter but because of the language barrier I realized it wasn't going to do any good. So I just kept saying "diabetes, insulin", and pointed to my pump and my medical ID bracelet. Jackie then asked the woman behind us, "how do you say diabetes in Spanish?" "Diabetes," the woman replied. So I knew the guard understood. And everything was going fine, he just needed a look. Aside from all the glucose tablets and other in case of emergency treats, I had yogurts and a container of cream cheese in my bag, two staples from Madrid. Before we left Madrid Jackie and I decided we would try to get it through and if they make us throw it out then at least we tried. When the guard saw the food he said in Spanish, "I will let you take the yogurts because you have diabetes but I have to take away the cream cheese." Without even asking for an explanation of why, I took my bag and just nodded and smiled, relieved to be through this whole ordeal. Two steps away from the guard I jut broke down crying. For those of you who know me, this should not come as a surprise. Nothing bad happened, if anything it was a positive experience. Even with the language barrier I was able to explain the need for everything I had and successfully get through security. I just felt very overwhelmed, heart racing, and shaky from the whole experience as it was my first time having to deal with it. Jackie and I took a few steps to the side to compose myself. She reassured me that I did great and everything was fine, things that I knew but just needed to cry it out. Suddenly, the guard crept up behind us and offered us back the cream cheese. We immediately grabbed it and started cracking up. The mood was light again, we got through it, and even had our cream cheese back!
The rest of the trip was incredible. After the Ibiza "process" (for Mama), we enjoyed great beaches, beach parties, parties parties, fiestas and not enough siestas. The other main challenge of the trip was how low I went throughout the day. The combination of walking and "partying" that we did almost made it feel like I didn't have diabetes for I was constantly lowing my basal dose of insulin. For all those who don't know what the "basal" is, please direct your questions to Jackie because she is extremely well versed in diabetes management these days. The amount of glucose tablets I went through on this one week trip is more than I think I've gone through this entire year! But it was worth it. The trip was incredible and our depressed state the last day just goes to show how much fun we really had. This trip was amazing for anyone, but it was specifically important so that I can prove to myself that I won't be stopped from anything. It's scary that I can't remember what life was like without my frienD and I'm only a week shy of a year with it, but at least I can say that this whole year was a year of firsts, and I am going to continue to experience new things and learn more that I can do anything I want.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Broken Record
So I know it's been a while and there is definitely much to report.
Unfortunately, the previous post was not the only incident relating to the malfunction of my pump. I will preface this post by saying that I do still love my Omnipod but we haven't been on the best of terms these past 2 months. He's (I'm not sure why it's automatically a "he" but it is) been redeeming himself these past couple of weeks but it's going to take a lot to regain my trust again.
Make a long story short - the previous post was followed by many, MANY more malfunctioning pods. Beeps here, beeps there, pods were beeping everywhere. Not only was I beeping everywhere I went, when I wasn't beeping, I thought I was beeping. I was constantly unzipping my bag and taking the pods out to my ear, lifting up my shirt in public places to see if it was coming from me. Half the time there was no beep, it had just become so the norm that there was a constant ringing in my ear. It's difficult to write a paper, watch TV, and have a conversation when I have to keep checking on insulin delivery. However, it did make the Saigon Grill protestors seem less annoying..
Each time a pod beeps, you need to open it up and sort of puncture it in this specific spot with something steady and sharp (a tool that has been very hard to find so all suggestions are welcomed-pens, needles, knives have all been tried) so the beeping stops. It doesn't always work though. And sometimes it just makes the beep louder. The two suggestions I got from the pod reps were to either do what I just described, or stick it in the freezer until the battery dies. I've done both. One night I was so fed up that I took a hammer and smashed it:
Unfortunately, the previous post was not the only incident relating to the malfunction of my pump. I will preface this post by saying that I do still love my Omnipod but we haven't been on the best of terms these past 2 months. He's (I'm not sure why it's automatically a "he" but it is) been redeeming himself these past couple of weeks but it's going to take a lot to regain my trust again.
Make a long story short - the previous post was followed by many, MANY more malfunctioning pods. Beeps here, beeps there, pods were beeping everywhere. Not only was I beeping everywhere I went, when I wasn't beeping, I thought I was beeping. I was constantly unzipping my bag and taking the pods out to my ear, lifting up my shirt in public places to see if it was coming from me. Half the time there was no beep, it had just become so the norm that there was a constant ringing in my ear. It's difficult to write a paper, watch TV, and have a conversation when I have to keep checking on insulin delivery. However, it did make the Saigon Grill protestors seem less annoying..
Each time a pod beeps, you need to open it up and sort of puncture it in this specific spot with something steady and sharp (a tool that has been very hard to find so all suggestions are welcomed-pens, needles, knives have all been tried) so the beeping stops. It doesn't always work though. And sometimes it just makes the beep louder. The two suggestions I got from the pod reps were to either do what I just described, or stick it in the freezer until the battery dies. I've done both. One night I was so fed up that I took a hammer and smashed it:
After that, I threw it out on my balcony to join it's brothers:
They were a symphony of sounds: high beeps, low beeps, the ones that turn into clicks once they are tired of beeping - keeping up the beat I guess.
It was all too much. If you haven't gathered this about my personality so far - there was A LOT of crying. Cries of frustration, fear, anger. I felt horrible each time I called my mom with the same story because I know she shares this frustration, maybe not equally, but just about - but I couldn't help myself.
Each time a pod fails, you call up Omnipod and give them the Lot and sequence number so they can put a replacement pod in your next shipment. But my pod supply was dwindling.
I arrived at work one morning only to hear that dreaded beep. I laughed. I checked the one on my first to make sure it wasn't ME.. PHEW, it's the one in my bag. But wait, that sounds like a duet. Not only was the my backup pod beeping, but the backup for the backup was beeping as well! So basically, the pod I am wearing better not die on me because all my safety's have basically betrayed me. I shoved them at the bottom of my bag and threw my coat on top of them so that the beep wouldn't be as loud. I then proceeded with the routine of calling up customer service and speaking to one of their "robots" (as my mother so wittily named them. "That sounds really frustrating ma'am"... ME: FRUSTRATING?? YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM GOING THROUGH AND HOW SCARY THIS IS. "Yes ma'am, that sounds really difficult." WAHHHH... Without continuing with the back and forth, they agreed to overnight me a box of pods instead of waiting for the next scheduled shipment, since I explained to them that to wait until I'm down to two pods, like they suggested, before calling up and saying I need a box overnighted is ludicrous considering two failed in my bag that morning. How could I responsibly wait until I had two left to request an overnight shipment?? A supervisor in the background must have heard me through the phone because all of a sudden the robot interrupted my rant and said that he would overnight me a box and have a "manager" contact me to "troubleshoot" this issue. Collectively, my mother, the manager, and I agreed that I unfortunately got a defected box of pods as my first box with the Omnipod. They wanted to sent me a totally new box and for me to Fedex them all the unopened pods with the labels they would send me. Only of course, they overnighted everything to my house in West Hempstead after I repeatedly told them that I live in Manhattan and gave them that shipping address. My mom was afraid to tell me when the box arrived to the house in W.H... and rightfully so because of course, the tears just came pouring out when she told me. Luckily, I was going home for the weekend and it was Wednesday night so only two more days until I can open up my new gift! It wasn't wrapped up with a bow, but it was exciting enough.
Anyways, I went home for the weekend, got my pods, came back and the cycle started again! Was it another bad box? Who knows. The robots heard from us numerous times and again told me that I would be hearing from a "manager".
I was in school on a Thursday during my break before our 4 PM class. I was sitting with S in the lounge when he called. "Is this a bad time?", he asked. No, it's fine, just in school - giving him the same obnoxious attitude I give the rest of them, that none of them deserve but who else can I take this out on. "I hear you've been having some problems, let me make sure I'm up to date on your situation".. and he continued to describe what I had been going through since January when I got on the pump not missing a single detail. But my mood did not change. I sounded irritable with my short answers and bad attitude and he knew it. "I know this must be really hard for you and this is not supposed to be happening. I've been on the Omnipod for three years now and... " - "You're on the Omnipod???", I immediately interrupted him. "Yes ma'am, but I don't get any special discounts for working at Omnipod." He too had Type 1 diabetes and proceeded to tell me a bit about his transition from injections to the pump, but fortunately had not had to experience the same mishaps as me. We ended up having a very comforting conversation, leaving me with a better feeling about the whole situation. He left me with his personal line at the office in case I have any questions or just need some "TLC" and don't want to go through all the prompts and robots.
The fear and frustration is not gone, but like everything else - it happens once, or in this case, around 17 times.. and when it happens again it's more of a chuckle - YOU AGAIN! I'm realizing there is just too much else going on - good and bad, to be stressing about something that I actually can control. Easier said than done - but that's the plan.
And I will leave you with this adorable video that I came across during one of my feeling bad for myself nights which made me feel sad and confident at the same time. Enjoy.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The Dreaded Beep
So I don't think I emphasized enough just how irritating that beep is when I so luckily encounter a defected pod. It's deafening. It's one of those ringing tones that you just can't exactly place but you know it is so irritating that it needs to be put to an end. The first time I experienced a failed pod it took my roommate and me about ten minutes to figure out where that annoying sound was coming from. Once we did, I took out the pod and tried to pull it apart to make the ringing stop, but it wouldn't. So I shoved it under my pillow and checked on it two hours later to find that the ringing switched to a clicking sound, much more bearable. It eventually stopped and after reporting it to the company I discarded it. This episode made my second encounter much easier to decipher and put to an end. It was a similar situation - I had just arrived home from class from the Bronx and there was that same sound.. I felt like a pro - I know what that is! I immediately reached into my bag, pulled out my packaged pod, unwrapped it and put it under my pillow. This time the noise didn't stop, even after the 2 hours of it lying in my bed. No problem though... "just put it outside", J said. So that's what I did. I threw it on our balcony and went to bed. It's still sitting out there.
So this is annoying, but I guess I can put up with it. A beep every so often isn't the worst thing in the world, especially because each time it happens I can call up to report it and each defected pod will be replaced in my next shipment. One more thing to do, one more thing to think about, but ok, bearable.. and just when I thought it couldn't get any worse.
Monday morning I got up at 7 AM, as usual, and started getting ready for work. I have been leaving a post it on my bag that says - "Bring OMNIPOD", so that I don't have a repeat of the previous post. I know it's silly but I have been feeling proud of myself when I remember to bring everything I need with me regarding my diabetes since the day I forgot my PDM. Monday was one of those mornings where I felt like I needed to have my music. There's just those days where I need to be a little lost in myself when it's that early in the morning and I'm too tired to let myself start thinking and getting all anxious about what I need to do. So I had my ipod on the whole bus ride to work, the whole walk down Third Ave. before I got my coffee from 711, the rest of the walk to the nursery school, and up the stairs to the fourth floor where I check in to the office and get ready for my day of teaching. I didn't shut my music until I exited the stairwell on the fourth floor and walked down the hallway to the main office. Had I shut off my music a little earlier I may have heard IT earlier, but like I said, it was just one of those mornings. I entered the office, said good morning to my boss, and went to check my mailbox. And there it was. The Dreaded Beep. No problem. I know what that is. I don't know where I'll shove this beeping pod until it stops ringing but I'll figure it out. I reached into my bag to take out my "just in case" pod only to find that that is not what was beeping. I put it up close to my ear to be sure, but nope, that is not where it was coming from. But I know that beep. It's my beep. But where was it?? I lifted my shirt to expose the pod that was on my stomach and the ringing got louder. It was coming from me. It was from the pod that I was wearing. I pulled out my PDM and on it it read "POD ERROR, CHANGE POD, INSULIN DELIVERY HAS STOPPED". Insulin delivery has stopped?? I was not getting any insulin? Well that couldn't be good..
I walked into my boss's office and by her facial expression I knew she heard the beep. Can you imagine an obnoxious sounding beep that is not stopping, and it's coming from your own body?? HOW EMBARRASSING! I explained to her the situation to which she was obviously very sympathetic and understanding. I immediately left work and obviously could not find a cab to speedily take me across town to put on a new pod. The crosstown bus was approaching the stop and I hopped on, thinking that this would probably get me across town quicker than waiting around for a taxi. I was racing. I was angry and scared. I was shaking. Had I not been diagnosed in the way I was, I don't think I would experience this extreme stress I get each time something goes wrong, but the fact is, it's going to take a while for me to be calm about all this. I knew I was not in DKA, I knew I wasn't going to start dropping pounds or going to the bathroom or feeling a chalky mouth where all I want to do is shove ice down my throat, but the anxiety I experience even at the thought is intolerable and overwhelming. I couldn't sit still on the bus. I was shaking, texting. I didn't even attempt to take my mind off of it. My mom called them immediately, it was the last thing I wanted to be doing and I think she knew that. On the bus, I ripped the pod off my stomach. It's not giving me anything anyways, let me remember what it was like to not be wearing this constant reminder of my chronic diagnosis. Once I got home, I immediately pulled out a vial of insulin, a new pod and syringe to fill it and applied it to the opposite side of my stomach that the other one was on. About 90 units of insulin down the drain since I had just switched my pod the previous evening before I went out to watch the superbowl (or sit in front of the TV doing school work pretending to watch the superbowl). It had been working fine the night before, I was even a bit on the lower end when I got home from the game. Who knows when it stopped working. What if it happened while I was sleeping. What if it happens when I'm asleep and the beep doesn't wake me up next time. What if the next time this happens I'm in class. All these uncertainties are extremely disconcerting and anxiety provoking. It's not enough I need to control my diabetes, I need to now worry about this damn pod malfunctioning on me. I'm told I have a good attitude and that is what is getting me through. I know I have a good attitude. I also have incredible support. But these things just make me mad. I know I'm doing great. But how can I do great if I can't rely on the mechanics and the things that are out of my control. I would not stop the pump. As of now, I am still fascinated by it's function and benefits. But I guess it will always be a love-hate relationship.
So this is annoying, but I guess I can put up with it. A beep every so often isn't the worst thing in the world, especially because each time it happens I can call up to report it and each defected pod will be replaced in my next shipment. One more thing to do, one more thing to think about, but ok, bearable.. and just when I thought it couldn't get any worse.
Monday morning I got up at 7 AM, as usual, and started getting ready for work. I have been leaving a post it on my bag that says - "Bring OMNIPOD", so that I don't have a repeat of the previous post. I know it's silly but I have been feeling proud of myself when I remember to bring everything I need with me regarding my diabetes since the day I forgot my PDM. Monday was one of those mornings where I felt like I needed to have my music. There's just those days where I need to be a little lost in myself when it's that early in the morning and I'm too tired to let myself start thinking and getting all anxious about what I need to do. So I had my ipod on the whole bus ride to work, the whole walk down Third Ave. before I got my coffee from 711, the rest of the walk to the nursery school, and up the stairs to the fourth floor where I check in to the office and get ready for my day of teaching. I didn't shut my music until I exited the stairwell on the fourth floor and walked down the hallway to the main office. Had I shut off my music a little earlier I may have heard IT earlier, but like I said, it was just one of those mornings. I entered the office, said good morning to my boss, and went to check my mailbox. And there it was. The Dreaded Beep. No problem. I know what that is. I don't know where I'll shove this beeping pod until it stops ringing but I'll figure it out. I reached into my bag to take out my "just in case" pod only to find that that is not what was beeping. I put it up close to my ear to be sure, but nope, that is not where it was coming from. But I know that beep. It's my beep. But where was it?? I lifted my shirt to expose the pod that was on my stomach and the ringing got louder. It was coming from me. It was from the pod that I was wearing. I pulled out my PDM and on it it read "POD ERROR, CHANGE POD, INSULIN DELIVERY HAS STOPPED". Insulin delivery has stopped?? I was not getting any insulin? Well that couldn't be good..
I walked into my boss's office and by her facial expression I knew she heard the beep. Can you imagine an obnoxious sounding beep that is not stopping, and it's coming from your own body?? HOW EMBARRASSING! I explained to her the situation to which she was obviously very sympathetic and understanding. I immediately left work and obviously could not find a cab to speedily take me across town to put on a new pod. The crosstown bus was approaching the stop and I hopped on, thinking that this would probably get me across town quicker than waiting around for a taxi. I was racing. I was angry and scared. I was shaking. Had I not been diagnosed in the way I was, I don't think I would experience this extreme stress I get each time something goes wrong, but the fact is, it's going to take a while for me to be calm about all this. I knew I was not in DKA, I knew I wasn't going to start dropping pounds or going to the bathroom or feeling a chalky mouth where all I want to do is shove ice down my throat, but the anxiety I experience even at the thought is intolerable and overwhelming. I couldn't sit still on the bus. I was shaking, texting. I didn't even attempt to take my mind off of it. My mom called them immediately, it was the last thing I wanted to be doing and I think she knew that. On the bus, I ripped the pod off my stomach. It's not giving me anything anyways, let me remember what it was like to not be wearing this constant reminder of my chronic diagnosis. Once I got home, I immediately pulled out a vial of insulin, a new pod and syringe to fill it and applied it to the opposite side of my stomach that the other one was on. About 90 units of insulin down the drain since I had just switched my pod the previous evening before I went out to watch the superbowl (or sit in front of the TV doing school work pretending to watch the superbowl). It had been working fine the night before, I was even a bit on the lower end when I got home from the game. Who knows when it stopped working. What if it happened while I was sleeping. What if it happens when I'm asleep and the beep doesn't wake me up next time. What if the next time this happens I'm in class. All these uncertainties are extremely disconcerting and anxiety provoking. It's not enough I need to control my diabetes, I need to now worry about this damn pod malfunctioning on me. I'm told I have a good attitude and that is what is getting me through. I know I have a good attitude. I also have incredible support. But these things just make me mad. I know I'm doing great. But how can I do great if I can't rely on the mechanics and the things that are out of my control. I would not stop the pump. As of now, I am still fascinated by it's function and benefits. But I guess it will always be a love-hate relationship.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
"I'd leave my head at home if it weren't attached"
As most of you know, I'm a pretty routine person. I like to stick to my schedule, do what's comfortable, and prefer not to deviate from that. In the slight chance that I do, it takes time for me to get accustomed but I usually am able to. I've been told by many that I look like I have my shit together, but the key word here is look. Diabetes has been one of those things that I just had to get accustomed to, I basically was not given a choice. "You're such a scheduled person, if it's gonna happen to anyone you're the one that can handle it!" - FYI - that does not make me feel better about having it. But anyways, the injection regimen I was on definitely lent itself to being incorporated into my structured lifestyle and I was quite thrown when I started on the pump and did not have to wake up at 8:30 AM to give my morning dose of Lantus and worry on Friday night that I would forget to give my evening dose because my phone was off and my alarm would not sound. These were fantastic disruptions to my routine though. Now, all I need to remember is to check my blood sugar, which I obviously do incessantly, and bolus (that means tell my omnipod how many carbs I'm eating so it can give me the appropriate amount of insulin to cover my food) before I eat. Me and omniP, two peas in a pod. I'd be lost without you... I found that out the hard way.
Whether it be waking up early for school or work, or sleeping a little later than usual on a weekend, the first thing I say good morning to is my PDM (Personal Diabetes Manager, the blackberry looking thing if you didn't catch that in my previous post). I check my blood sugar, make sure I am in range, and start my day. It was a typical Tuesday morning and my alarm went off at 7:05. I checked myself, 98, perfect. Got out of bed and got ready to go to work. It didn't feel like morning as it was a gloomy, rainy day out, and the sun was not shining into my room the way I like. I arrived to a chaotic morning at the nursery school, with three teachers absent, and me being put on standby until they decided if I was to go about my regular schedule of teaching Hebrew to the kids or as a substitute for one of the missing teachers. I figured I'd eat breakfast as I waited to be told where to go. I went to my bag to get my PDM to check and bolus for my cereal only to realize I had not brought it with me. For such a "together girl", I felt like the most irresponsible, disorganized person. For someone that prides herself on being in control of her diabetes, I forgot the most important component of my technologically advanced system that keeps me in control. I joke that it looks like a blackberry but I clearly gave precedence to my actual blackberry that morning when I left for work.
My first reaction - ok, I won't eat any carbs. If I don't eat carbs then I won't need to bolus. I brought nuts, carrots, tuna. I could survive til 2 pm like this. But wait, the nicest part of the PDM is that it serves as a meter as well. Therefore, I wouldn't be able to check my blood sugar without it and that I knew was not ok. I quickly hopped in a cab, ran up to my apt., grabbed the damn thing and ran back to work. I made it back in great time but I was embarrassed. I was angry at my Omnipod. How could it stay behind like that and abandon me?? I suppose it could've been worse. I could've been in the Bronx in the middle of a class, and not right across Central Park. But still, the only person I wasn't embarrassed to tell was my mother to which she replied the title of this post. As a friend in school (H) pointed out, it was bound to happen. People leave things places all the time and I guess it couldn't have happened in a better way. But the thought of it happening in any worse way frightens me. So I guess the take away message quoted by my dear roommate, J, "The Omnipod: Don't leave home without it".
Whether it be waking up early for school or work, or sleeping a little later than usual on a weekend, the first thing I say good morning to is my PDM (Personal Diabetes Manager, the blackberry looking thing if you didn't catch that in my previous post). I check my blood sugar, make sure I am in range, and start my day. It was a typical Tuesday morning and my alarm went off at 7:05. I checked myself, 98, perfect. Got out of bed and got ready to go to work. It didn't feel like morning as it was a gloomy, rainy day out, and the sun was not shining into my room the way I like. I arrived to a chaotic morning at the nursery school, with three teachers absent, and me being put on standby until they decided if I was to go about my regular schedule of teaching Hebrew to the kids or as a substitute for one of the missing teachers. I figured I'd eat breakfast as I waited to be told where to go. I went to my bag to get my PDM to check and bolus for my cereal only to realize I had not brought it with me. For such a "together girl", I felt like the most irresponsible, disorganized person. For someone that prides herself on being in control of her diabetes, I forgot the most important component of my technologically advanced system that keeps me in control. I joke that it looks like a blackberry but I clearly gave precedence to my actual blackberry that morning when I left for work.
My first reaction - ok, I won't eat any carbs. If I don't eat carbs then I won't need to bolus. I brought nuts, carrots, tuna. I could survive til 2 pm like this. But wait, the nicest part of the PDM is that it serves as a meter as well. Therefore, I wouldn't be able to check my blood sugar without it and that I knew was not ok. I quickly hopped in a cab, ran up to my apt., grabbed the damn thing and ran back to work. I made it back in great time but I was embarrassed. I was angry at my Omnipod. How could it stay behind like that and abandon me?? I suppose it could've been worse. I could've been in the Bronx in the middle of a class, and not right across Central Park. But still, the only person I wasn't embarrassed to tell was my mother to which she replied the title of this post. As a friend in school (H) pointed out, it was bound to happen. People leave things places all the time and I guess it couldn't have happened in a better way. But the thought of it happening in any worse way frightens me. So I guess the take away message quoted by my dear roommate, J, "The Omnipod: Don't leave home without it".
Sunday, January 30, 2011
PUMPkin Muffins
So it's been 2 weeks now that I have been "pumping" and other than the more frequent lows because of the adjustment to the constant basal rate of insulin I am getting, the accuracy and convenience of this device is unbelievable. My blood sugars have been more in range and it has been such a "mechaya" (for you R) to not have to whip out my needles and insulin pens each time I want to eat something. However, the additional preparations for before I leave the house is something I still need to learn how to better deal with. I am now leaving the house with my pricker, test strips, PDM (Personal Diabetes Manager - the blackberry looking thing), an extra packaged pod in case the one I am wearing gets knocked off or stops working (I would not be able to put it back on once it's taken off, you need to fill up a new one), a vial of insulin in case of that emergency, and if all these fail, I still have my insulin pen and needles on me at all times. I sometimes consider bringing two packaged pods with me because of the incident that occurred the other night when I arrived home from school. Now don't get me wrong, I love my Ominpod. But what kind of person would I be if I didn't do my due diligence and memorize the Omnipod website, read blogs, and people's thoughts on the Omnipod before I actually got it. I was well aware that in each box of "pods" people usually get one or two duds/defects. I was obviously dreading the first time I encounter my first dud. After a tiring day of classes in the Bronx, I entered my apartment and was welcomed by a loud, obnoxious screeching beep. My roommate and I searched the apartment to try and figure out where this horrible sound was coming from, only to realize it was coming from my own bag. My "safety" pod was acting out and needed to be destroyed. I stuck it under my pillow and called my Omnipod representative who instructed me to throw it away and that it will be replaced. I was obviously glad that this happened in my apartment but fear the next time I have a dud in my bag and it gets set off in the middle of class or while I'm teaching. But I guess that should be the worst of my problems.
Anyways, this weekend was my first time traveling out of the city since I started on the pump. But what better place to spend the weekend than with two of my oldest friends, A and E, in A and her husband's house in Brooklyn. Yup, Brooklyn. I didn't even realize until I was packing up my pumpkin muffins (made with canned pumpkin and not real ones, contrary to popular belief) that I made for the weekend. I ended up packing 3 extra pods because I knew that I was due to change it at 6 PM Friday evening, right before we would sit down for dinner, and wanted to be prepared for any mishaps. Thank Gd, all went pretty smoothly and my 2 friends watched as I filled the syringe with insulin, then the pod, and finally stuck it on my stomach and waited for it to insert itself. A was impressed with the pod's ability to prime itself while E watched with proud eyes as I swiftly discarded my needle (ya that's right, I'm getting pretty good at it). As usual, being with my friends, and specifically these ones, just adds to my confidence that I can and will do this as best as I can. Having them learn the lingo, ask questions, and communicate with me about how I'm feeling at all times helps me fully incorporate this into my every day life without it being more annoying than it has to be. As usual, I reflect on the month after I was first diagnosed. I thought I would never leave the confines of my parents home, let alone my "station" in the kitchen where I would leave my meter and other supplies. But here I am, traveling to school, work, and to other boroughs for the weekend. Saturday nights are stressful at times, most recently because I'm realizing that crowded areas are starting to make me nervous in case someone knocks my pod off at a party or social gathering and the lows I get in the middle of my night. But I am reminded by close patient people around me to keep checking myself and ensure that I'm ok.
While paired up in class to practice giving a clinical interview, H and my exchange may have gotten a little too deep for what was asked of us in the twenty minutes we had to practice - but that just means we're gonna be the best psychologists!! But in all seriousness, I was able to realize something very valuable in our conversation. It will always be on my mind. It will always be something I need to think about. I can't make a move without knowing what my blood sugar is. I can't take a walk, I can't eat, I can't go to sleep without knowing that number and using it to figure out my next move. At times I have unusually high expectations for people to know this but I am aware that it is asking too much and is completely unrealistic. But the truth is, everyone has their "thing", and this is mine. Everyone wakes up each morning with whatever is bothering them or making them happy, and that will probably influence their mood for the rest of the day. I'm not unique in this. I am now wearing a constant reminder that I have diabetes and it is not going away. But at the same time, each of us has something that we are keeping inside. I think it's important for us to be sensitive to others and to be mindful that everyone is starting their day off with SOMETHING.
Anyways, this weekend was my first time traveling out of the city since I started on the pump. But what better place to spend the weekend than with two of my oldest friends, A and E, in A and her husband's house in Brooklyn. Yup, Brooklyn. I didn't even realize until I was packing up my pumpkin muffins (made with canned pumpkin and not real ones, contrary to popular belief) that I made for the weekend. I ended up packing 3 extra pods because I knew that I was due to change it at 6 PM Friday evening, right before we would sit down for dinner, and wanted to be prepared for any mishaps. Thank Gd, all went pretty smoothly and my 2 friends watched as I filled the syringe with insulin, then the pod, and finally stuck it on my stomach and waited for it to insert itself. A was impressed with the pod's ability to prime itself while E watched with proud eyes as I swiftly discarded my needle (ya that's right, I'm getting pretty good at it). As usual, being with my friends, and specifically these ones, just adds to my confidence that I can and will do this as best as I can. Having them learn the lingo, ask questions, and communicate with me about how I'm feeling at all times helps me fully incorporate this into my every day life without it being more annoying than it has to be. As usual, I reflect on the month after I was first diagnosed. I thought I would never leave the confines of my parents home, let alone my "station" in the kitchen where I would leave my meter and other supplies. But here I am, traveling to school, work, and to other boroughs for the weekend. Saturday nights are stressful at times, most recently because I'm realizing that crowded areas are starting to make me nervous in case someone knocks my pod off at a party or social gathering and the lows I get in the middle of my night. But I am reminded by close patient people around me to keep checking myself and ensure that I'm ok.
While paired up in class to practice giving a clinical interview, H and my exchange may have gotten a little too deep for what was asked of us in the twenty minutes we had to practice - but that just means we're gonna be the best psychologists!! But in all seriousness, I was able to realize something very valuable in our conversation. It will always be on my mind. It will always be something I need to think about. I can't make a move without knowing what my blood sugar is. I can't take a walk, I can't eat, I can't go to sleep without knowing that number and using it to figure out my next move. At times I have unusually high expectations for people to know this but I am aware that it is asking too much and is completely unrealistic. But the truth is, everyone has their "thing", and this is mine. Everyone wakes up each morning with whatever is bothering them or making them happy, and that will probably influence their mood for the rest of the day. I'm not unique in this. I am now wearing a constant reminder that I have diabetes and it is not going away. But at the same time, each of us has something that we are keeping inside. I think it's important for us to be sensitive to others and to be mindful that everyone is starting their day off with SOMETHING.
Friday, January 14, 2011
I'm Pumped That You're Pumped
When I described my personality, eating habits, and general routine to the various doctors and diabetes educators in the hospital I received similar responses from all of them - "You'll be a great candidate for the pump". The pump? It sounded gross. However, once it was described to me it seemed like and is the biggest advancement in the world of diabetes, that is until they find a cure. "Can she get it before she comes home?", my dad asked the doctor. Well, not exactly... but I didn't realize it would be this soon.
The first few months post diagnosis were used to get myself back to being, well, myself. I was so far off from who I used to be after all the mayhem that I needed a month of recovery in my house and even after that I still didn't feel like doing much of anything once I moved back to the city. I felt different, alone, restricted, and even more OCD and neurotic than I could have ever imagined, even for me. I had a hard time explaining to people how I felt and would end up feeling bitter towards those closest to me. I was forced to wake up each morning for the morning dose of Lantus and remember to give the second half in the evening. Eating was always a question, should I round up or round down? Starting a new program in school was scary enough but to bring all my new gadgets and figure out when it was time to start pricking in front of my new friends for the next 5 years was a looming question in my mind. It was no surprise though that my classmates are so caring and understanding. After all, we're gonna be psychologists. The first day of school S.E. brought it right up, eliminating any possible discomfort on my end and told me to tell her everything about it and she would be there if I needed anything. We just became friends, but she couldn't have made me feel more at ease. Eventually, school was safe. I mastered it. Checking, shooting up, and eating based on my classes and schedule. I had heard that at times of stress the blood sugar would spike and I definitely got to experience that. Right before bed the night before a final I checked my blood sugar, 267. Screw it, I'm going to sleep. I woke up, took my final, and was back to my low 100's again. I began mastering Shabbas, exercise, and even going out as well. I was pretty impressed with myself. AND I knew it was only going to get easier..
My family and I made the decision to go on the Insulin pump over my winter vacation. This way I would have time to adjust before I start classes again. My diabetes educator definitely minimized the whole adjustment, but I guess she just doesn't know me that well. For those of you that do- I take time adjusting to any new situation and I knew I would need ample time to adapt to this. So after, my first semester in graduate school and 5 months as a Type 1 diabetic, I was ready to begin the pump.
Last Wednesday I arrived at Mt. Sinai hospital at 8 AM to meet K for the insertion of a sensor on my lower back. This would measure my blood sugar every ten seconds for the next 6 days, creating a better picture of my trends, highs and lows, and the effects of other variables on my blood sugar. I felt like a robot having a chip inserted, and I felt like I was being watched, like I needed to be extra good because everything is being seriously documented. The whole procedure took 30 minutes and I was home by 9 AM. I went about my day until 1 PM when B arrived for my first Omnipod training session. We sat for about 2 hours while we went through the different settings and functions of the Omnipod, most of which I knew already because I obviously did my due diligence. The draw to the Omnipod for those of you not fluent in diabetes jargon and pump talk is the lack of tubing. Other pumps (Animus, Minimed - google them), have tubes attached to the insertion point that then connect to a beeper looking thing. I've seen this kind on the majority of people I know with diabetes but I'm not one for tubing. K, the woman who inserted my sensor works for one of the tubing pump companies and was doing her best to sell me on it that Wednesday morning, telling me I can hide the beeper in my bra! No thanks, I'm going with the pod for now. ANYWAYS - After 2 hours of training, we applied my first pod filled with saline for a practice week. This was done about ten minutes before B left. "Are you ok? Are you overwhelmed?", she asked me before she left. Nope, I'm totally good. Ya Right.
Bye B! (Bawling E.D.)
"So, it's always there. Just sitting there. Should I just always wear a sweat shirt? Then it really won't show. I chose this one because it has no tubes but it's still this thing sitting on my stomach, showing through my clothes. I don't want this anymore. I'll keep the shots. I wasn't fed up enough to be doing this. The shots were fine and I can live with it. Don't tell me it's not that bad and don't tell me it's not a big deal. You don't have to wear it."
Was what I said all Wednesday.
Thursday was a bit more positive. I kind of ignored it. I went through the motions. I pretended it was real. Decreased my basal when I exercised and extended my bolus when I was at a long Friday night meal. (Look up the lingo). This wasn't so bad. It was actually kind of cool. Come Sunday night, J and I were sitting down to enjoy huge Bloomingdales Froyos, which by the way I was able to figure out exactly how many carbs were in it thanks to my Omnipod, and I almost forgot to give my shot, I was getting so used to this pump thing. So this is me. I freak out, I figure it out, and I'm good. And to those of you who have to hear me freak out, you know who you are- thank you and I'm sorry all at the same time.
So today was the day. B arrived at 9 AM. Together we filled the pod with insulin and I applied it. It's not pumping my basal yet since I still gave my Lantus last night but later today it will begin. I'm feeling excited. I'm pumped. And J is pumped that I'm pumped. We're gonna pump it up.
And just so you can have a better picture:
But don't tell me it's not that bad. Just notice the super cool blackberry looking controller.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)