Ipod Blend

OK, I would never do this even to my generation one iPod that will only download from imac's OS 9.3, making it effectively redundant. But here is what I would like to blend in 2007

A potential nightmare

I was on the edge of sleep last night and I felt a little odd. When I checked my blood glucose it was a tad too low so I popped a hard candy into my mouth and....... the next thing I know I'm coughing, choking and spluttering. I must have fallen asleep while sucking on the sweetie.
Luckily all was well, but it did make me think, if I died while treating a hypo this way would the authorities record it as a death caused by diabetic complications?

Doing What You Have To

I finally had to give in today and do something I'd been putting off for almost a week. I've been unable to get a work out at the gym since December 1st because I can't walk fast, pedal or sit without it being literally a big pain in the butt. Consequently my BG has been rocketing skywards for the last few days. I've been correcting with extra units of Humalog to keep it in check during the day but the morning levels have been above 270 since Friday.
So this morning I took an extra 10% Lantus and like magic my BG has been below 126 ever since. I don't know why I'll take an extra bolus here and there but upping the basal rate makes me feel like the diabetes is getting worse. That's truly crazy, right?
I'm sure this is just a temporary thing until I can get back to the gym but it goes to show that exercise makes a big difference to glucose levels, mine at least.

Diabetes-friendly recipes?

I'm surfing the web looking for inspiration for this year's xmas meal when I hit upon this recipe on the dLife website. It's a Kwanzaa Pineapple Upside Down Cake. I'm intrigued because I don't have any Kwanzaa recipes in my repertoire and when I was at school Pineapple Upside Down Cake was the first thing I made in Home Economics class.
I want to see what makes in specific for Kwanzaa and how they adapted a high carbohydrate recipe to fit in with the dLife guidelines of small amounts of sugar and less than 30 grams of carbohydrates per serving. From what I remember of my cake it was pretty high on both counts.
Well, it turns out there is little difference from the recipe I know. It contains both molasses and honey and of course the canned pineapples in fruit juice. My mouth is already puckering with distaste from the excess sweetness. Then I read the nutritional information:

Exchanges per serving: 3 Carbohydrates, ½ fat
Calories 237
Calories from fat 36
Total Fat 4g
Saturated fat 1g
Cholesterol 0mg
Sodium 156mg
Carbohydrates 48g
Dietary fiber 1g
Sugar 29g
Protein 4g

You have to be kidding me. 48g of carbohydrates for a slice of cake? I could have four delicious Whole Foods Chocolate Truffles for half the carbs and 5g less sugar.
Could someone please explain to me what makes this recipe diabetes-friendly?

Mad Cow Disease May Solve Diabetes Riddle

I don't know what all the implications are but scientists at Ottawa Health Research Institute in Canada have discovered that a prion that causes Creutzfeld-Jakob disease might be involved in regulating blood glucose levels and could possibly affect the development of Type 1 diabetes.
It's probably not a major breakthrough, more another piece of the puzzle that will lead to an answer to why some of us get diabetes and others don't. And that's an important question to address when you are looking for a cure.

Sinterklaas

I'm still sore from slipping last week but it served me right for putting up the lights before Sinterklaas has visited. This is one of the traditions we bought with us from Belgium and I violated it at my peril.
The Sint (known as St Nicolas in the francophone part of the country) arrives on a boat from Spain at the end of November then treks through the low countries on his horse, accompanied by his helper(s) Zwarte Piet(s). On the evening of Dec 5 he leaves oranges, a chocolate initial and presents in the shoes of good children in The Netherlands, and arrives in Belgium on the morning of the 6th to do the same.
As most Mamas in Belgium work, families celebrate St Nicholas the weekend before but Sintaklaas always visits nurseries and schools on the right day. Only after Sinterklaas has passed through can the xmas decorating begin, and December 25th is more a family celebration than the culmination of retail frenzy.
I shall be singing these songs and a few others until I drive everyone demented and they beg me to stop. It's a happy holiday.

Getting in the holiday spirit

What's worse than Achilles tendonitis that won't go away? Crashing down on that ankle while you are attempting to hang xmas lights, that's what. I now have a swollen ankle, a bruised coccyx, cut right thumb, black and blue arm and a nasty gash on the left hand to go with the sore ankle.
I should have stuck to plan A, which was to leave the poor trees and shrubs alone. But it is yuletide and a few lights make the yard so pretty. Next year I'm going with something manageable like this.

Worth the bolus?

Candy with butter and salt? A celtic girl's dream delicacy. And who would be naughty enough to tempt Jane to eat candy? Whole Foods Market, that's who. Not only are they selling French chocolate bars filled with caramel and fleur de sel but they also have this recipe for chocolate truffles on their website which is so pure and decadent- just chocolate, cream, butter and salt.
All natural and pure evil.

Happy Birthday To Me

It's that time of year again. No, not the two turkey pig-out that is Thanksgiving/Christmas but the annual reminder that I have failed to accomplish even half my goals and I'm one year nearer to never doing so. Some people save this day for Jan 1st and make resolutions to do better next year. I do it on my birthday, without bothering with the "do better next year" bit.
I've always hated this day. Every year when I was small, my mother would host a party at our house. Normally I loved to have other kids over but there was something about the pressure of my birthday: dressing up, choosing games, that would have me hiding out on the stairs, usually crying.
It hasn't got better as I've gotten older. I no longer dress up and I never tell anyone that my birthday is approaching, but I still have to deal with the loved ones bearing cards and gifts. I'd really rather crawl into bed, put the covers over my head and not get up until the next day. The day after the birthday I am fine, a pleasant rational human being. On my birthday I am Satan with toothache. Anyone with any sense would avoid me. I would avoid me if I could.
So this year I set out to do just that. I left my long-suffering husband with the unopened cards and presents and took myself off to the gym for two hours, then, as the weather was phenomenal, I spent an hour on the beach alone and finally I went to the movies on my own. It was quite the best birthday I have had.
Now, as long as no one asks me how old I am, I should be fairly sane for another twelve months.

Achilles what?

I have another visit to the Orthopaedic Specialist on Monday and as I promised last time I would go to the medical supply store and pick up a foam pad for my ankle I thought I'd better get on to it. The OS assured me that I could pick up an Achilles foam support anywhere. He described it as a larger padded version of those bunion pads that are sold in the foot care department of any pharmacy. The padding would keep the back of my shoes away from the bump allowing me to wear boots and closed shoes in the winter.
A combination of unseasonably warm weather and this diabetic's fear of surgical supply stores meant I was able to put off the purchase until the last possible moment. But I couldn't wait any longer so I started my search at the local store. I weaved my way around half a dozen wheelchairs and a display of canes until I reached the salesperson. I really thought that I could just grab one off the shelf but no such luck. She only had heel cups and arch supports - the same that I could buy at CVS but at a 50% upcharge. She suggested an orthopedic supply store and I limped off imagining once again that I could pick up this surgical aid in a couple of minutes.
Yeah, a five minute trip turned into a nightmare where I had to force myself to go into a building that advertised "Prosthetics" in neon lights. Inside there were no prosthetics on display, thank goodness, but also no foam donuts. Half hour later an orthopedic specialist came to look at my ankle and declare that they would have to have something made because they only dealt in made-to-measure orthotics, preferably charged to my insurance. They would be happy to make one, perhaps included in a lace-up shoe, but maybe I could manufacture something myself out of lambswool and adhesive? What the f***? Do I look like Martha Stewart? And I'm not about to go clumping about in some old person's frumpy shoe either. Strike two but I did leave with the address of another surgical supply place so I got back into the car and drove another five miles.
This place was a regular pharmacy with a surgical supply department that had leg braces, knee braces, covers for plaster casts, even a sling to support the pregnant bulge for mums-to-be but no donut, foam or otherwise. The pharmacist even got out the catalog and the only thing that was remotely suitable was this decidedly unsexy sock, which will look great with my stilletos. Strike three. Empty-handed and footed and two and a half hours out of my day later I decided that the foam donut was a figment of the OS's imagination. However, given how common this injury is I'm sure there's an opportunity for someone to develop something. Perhaps with interchangeable diamond edging?

Health"care" provider

I made my monthly run to the pharmacy to load up on supplies: insulin, syringes, pen needles, other prescription meds and of course test strips. Since I became a "good" diabetic nearly a year ago I have been getting 300 of these suckers each month. I have a current script from my doctor for three more refills so I expected to get my full amount.
The pharmacist motions me over and explains that my excellent healthcare provider in its wisdom has decided that the limit will be 200. Starting now. But, he explains, all I have to do is call my endo and if she deems that my diabetes is severe enough to warrant 300 test strips a month she can write that on the scrip and fax it in.
My wonderful healthcare provider, the people who hound me if my A1c is above 7 with repeated phonecalls: "What can we do to help you achieve your goals?". Who are so proud of their diabetes education program. The one with the suckiest website in the universe, which they just made better by insisting I change my password to a combination of letters and numbers that I cannot remember so I have to phone them and request they reset it, again. Yes, you Oxford, I'm talking about you, here's what you can do to ensure I keep my BG at an acceptable level.
Leave the decision about how many strips I use to me and my doctor. Once we have decided that, do not interfere and never, ever make me take time out of my day to phone my endo unless it's an emergency; and don't tie up the health professionals' time either, not the the pharmacist, the doctor nor the nurse. Oh, and don't demand that diabetics are classified into groups based on how many blood testing strips they use.
What's next? Will they insist I change to a meter that uses cheaper strips unless I get a note from my doctor to say I really need the smarter meter?
And what do they think I'm doing with the extra 100 strips? Making collages?

Rocking again

I've got tickets to see The Raconteurs tonight, oh and yeah, Bob Dylan is playing too. I've had the tickets since they went on sale in August and I am seriously looking forward to this even though I can't wear my kick ass cowboy boots because of the damn lump at my Achilles tendon; hell, I can't even wear sneakers.
The ankle had responded really well to physical therapy and I thought it was pretty much healed but a week or so ago it suddenly became much more painful. I changed orthopaedic surgeons and found one that is gentle and sympathetic and who actually examined my feet! He sent me back to PT but suggested that I don't do any training other than weight lifting at the gym for the next couple of weeks. This has kind of thrown my work out routine into chaos. I tried just using the resistance machines for abs and pecs but I never felt like I warmed up enough before I started and after ten minutes I wasn't sure what to do next. I don't want to just work those muscles for an hour because I think I'm just going to get sore. So I'm having a week off from the gym but I'm feeling both guilty and fidgety because I'm not getting any real exercise apart from strolling around with the big dogs twice a day.
So tonight there will be no dancing in the aisles for me or jumping up and down but it'll still rock, right?

I'm clean

Good news today.
I have been officially certified free of any communicable disease. That's great news for anyone who might have rubbed up against me recently or over whom I may have coughed or sneezed.
Whatever you've got you didn't catch it from me.

Cranky Jane is Back

I'm really cranky today. Those in the cheap seats who are yelling "Give us a break, how are we supposed to tell the difference? You're always cranky, Jane" can just settle down for a moment while I relate the source of my crankiness.
Last week I had my endo visit and all was good, very good even; for me it was great. I had blood drawn and as I don't have to go back to the opthamologist until next March I thought I was done with doctors for a few months. Ha, not so fast, missy.
First, hurrah! I had a call from the immigration lawyer to tell me that our case has been read and we should go get medicals asap. These have to be performed by a designated Civil Surgeon and there was only one in our area. She had an appointment the next day or in four weeks time, so we duly leapt on the less than twenty-four hours notice one.
Basically, people, the only things that the US government cares about are that immigrants do not have any communicable diseases, that they are sane and don't have problems with drugs or alcohol. I think I scored on the sane front when the doctor asked me how much I drank and I answered "Not nearly enough". I don't have a non-prescription drug problem either as my co-pays on all the prescription drugs I take leave me with no extra cash to spend on recreational drugs. As for the communicable diseases bit, if I had any, I picked them up in the six+ years I have been breathing pure American air.
Still, I had to have blood drawn by the Civil Surgeon for an HIV test and a gonorrhea test. Then I had to have a purified protein derivative injected under the skin of my right forearm to see if I have TB. Because I no longer have a record of vaccinations I had to go to my regular doctor who drew blood to see if I was immune to MMR and who gave me an unnecessary tetanus shot because my last one was in Belgium and try getting proof of that in English within 10 days.
For those who are counting I have had blood drawn three times in five days. I swear if you press down on the vein in my right arm blood will shoot right out. I got a free blood pressure reading thrown in each time, too. In fact I got two each time as they couldn't hear my BP the first time they tried. Isn't about time we found a more scientific way to take BP than a cuff or a finger sensor?
I also have a sore arm because the arm I had the tetanus shot in was the same arm I had the flu shot in three days before. And I hate getting shots almost as much as Kerri does. In Belgium my family doctor used to let me give myself the flu shot on the basis that I had more practice than she did.
Three doctors' visits, two shots, three separate lots of blood drawn, six blood pressure readings and a skin test. Is it any wonder I'm cranky? The irony is that every one of the three doctors I saw was willing to say I was in excellent health. Diabetes, thyroid disease, arthritis, PCOS, achilles tendonitis, they are apparently not contra-indicators of healthiness. Isn't that nice to know?

First casualty

Rumsfeld is stepping down.
I must remember this is firstly a blog about diabetes and other auto-immune diseases. So here is a piece of news about stem-cell research in mice that may, some years down the road, help people with visual complications from diabetes see again.
But it's also my life, people, and it's a political one.

Voted.

My faith in the democratic process, restored and without my help. You really can't fool all of the people all of the time.
My favorite moment, even though it was never seriously in doubt, was this piece of schadenfreude.
I got four hours sleep last night so if there are errors in my html or spelling I apologise. I'm going to have a little nap at my desk.

Voting rights

I'm so frustrated at the moment. I'm holding my breath to see who is elected to the Congress, alternately checking MSNBC and CNN, and half a dozen websites because I'm a political junkie. The frustrating part is that once again I was not allowed to take part in the democratic process.
One of the worst things for me about living in a country where I'm not a citizen is that I have no right to vote. I've lived here for more than six years and I'm a legal resident who pays taxes but I'm not yet "of the people". Not being able to cast a ballot for the person that I think will serve society best makes me feel alienated, disenfranchised and impotent.
The only thing that makes me more sad and angry is people taking democracy for granted and not exercising their right to vote when they have the opportunity to do so. This time around, though, it seems that there has been a higher than usual turnout at the polls. I'm so heartened by this, it's great to see democracy in action, but I firmly believe that it would be better if I could take part too.

Make my surprise secret, please

I suppose I should read my emails more carefully then I wouldn't have been surprised when the UPS guy walked up the path and handed me a parcel from dLife. But it's been busy here and I was expecting a parcel from Amazon and not a surprise gift from dLife.
I've already written about my willingness to look a gift horse in the mouth and then bitch at it so it will come as no surprise to you, dear reader, that I was more than miffed by this one.
DLife sent me a meter. Another free meter. I'm guessing now that this is where the last free meter came from. I examined my dLife profile and although I had left unchecked the box that asked if I wanted a free meter, I got one anyway. At least the last free meter arrived in a plain brown wrapper. This parcel came in a custom box in the signature blue and yellow colors with the dLife logo proudly printed all over it and a message on the UPS label: DLIFE-FOR YOUR DIABETES LIFE just above the "Ship to Jane" part of the label.
I know, I should have read the privacy statement a little closer and not put my address on my profile, so it's my fault but I never expected that offers from dLife and partners would arrive in such obvious packaging.
And yes, I realize I'm being a little inconsistent here. After all I write a blog that has my baby photo on it, my real name and the town where I live, so it wouldn't be hard to track me down but I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the UPS guy knowing my medical condition.
Wait a minute, I am sure about this. I'm mighty uncomfortable about it. Something to do with a feeling that my privacy has been invaded. I choose who to tell about my life with diabetes and when to tell them. I don't need to be outed by an information and support website. While I applaud the work that dLife is doing to raise the profile of diabetes I'm not keen on them raising my particular profile. I like to do that for myself.
On the positive side though, I now have three spare meters, one I bought for myself just before I traded up to the Lifescan One Touch UltraSmart and two brand new ones, one still in its original, unopened packaging. Of course they all take different types of test strips so I would have to get a prescription from my doctor before I could use any of them except the one I bought for myself as that uses the One Touch strips I have for my regular meter. Hmm. Anyone need a free meter?

My Post-Hallowe'en Scary Day

November 1st. All Saints. It was more like "Saints Alive". I'm not a candy eater so I didn't expect anything different with my BG tests on November 1st. I certainly didn't expect this:
BG before breakfast: 55
BG before lunch: 56
BG before dinner: 61
BG before bed: 59
I'm really glad we had left-over trick or treat candy because I couldn't hold a decent number all freakin' day. I didn't dare risk the gym because I don't like to exercise if I'm below 120 and the highest post meal number was 81!
I'm with the doctors on this one BG and BP better high than low. Oh well, it all helps the magic A1c I guess.

Life below 7

6.7 baby. 6.7
It's been so many years since I had an A1c that low that I truly thought I wasn't capable.
And this is despite a really bad couple of days a fortnight or so ago when I couldn't get a sensible reading at all. It started after I'd upped my workout quite a bit. I had a BG reading of 429 that I corrected (probably a little too aggressively) and I rebounded to 33. By dinner time it was back in the 400s and although I corrected it (a lot more conservatively) for the next day I hovered around the 300-450 mark. Then just as suddenly I was back down to 117 and I've had no real issues since.
I don't know if my body just got stressed by the extra exercise or the insulin was just not getting to where it needed to be but I was expecting that this would throw my A1c out. And that would have been really unfair. But my endo was really excited by the rest of the numbers and there was a lot of cheering when they phoned them through to me today. I put this down to them being hyped up on Hallowe'en candy but who cares? I got the pat on the back that I though I would get three months ago.
Whoopee.