Just like in the movie, today we’re doing a swap. If you could switch chronic diseases, which one would you choose to deal with instead of diabetes? And while we’re considering other chronic conditions, do you think your participation in the DOC has affected how you treat friends and acquaintances with other medical conditions? (Thanks to Jane of Jane K. Dickinson, RN, PhD, CDE and Bob of T Minus Two for this topic suggestion.)
I’m Feisty and it’s Friday. I have thought quite a bit this question throughout the week. In my mind, I have answered this many different ways but always come to the same conclusion, no, I would not switch T1D with another chronic disease and I’m annoyed with myself for thinking about this as much as I have.
In the past 5 years of my life, among my close friends, I have witnessed the following: a friend diagnosed, fight and BEAT the shirt out of breast cancer; a beloved friend diagnosed with cancer and three weeks later watching him take his last breath on this earth; a friend diagnosed with MS; a friend’s constant battle with debilitating depression; a friend responding VERY favorably to a Lupus treatment. In a phrase that was often part of my Catholic upbringing, “We all have our own cross to bear”. I believe this is true, so no, I’m not entertaining the idea of switching.
It’s been a year since I started Surfacefine. Rarely does anyone question the name (you know, the 6 people who read it). The name came from a moment when I was considering participating in Diabetes Blog Week (again, way to go Karen). I woke up early to go to the gym. I had an appointment to workout with a trainer so there was not an option to cancel. My bg was in the high 200′s when I woke up. For all intensive purposes we’ll just say it was 300. I had an hour before I had to leave for my appointment. Correction bolus taken plus a little additional rage bolus for good measure. No ketones. I practically drowned in my attempts to hydrate and flush my system. As I walked to the gym, I checked my Dexcom at every intersection. The arrow continued to angle downward. I know it’s counteractive to workout that far out of range. I also know I had to pay that trainer if I canceled. I saw my neighbor on a street corner. She made a comment about my going to the gym and “good for you”. As I race walked my way along, I couldn’t help but think of my attire. There I was in my new sneakers, dressed in spandex, moisture-wicking gym clothes, hair in a messy ponytail looking the part of the committed health nut. No one who saw me knew there was a bedazzled Dexcom sensor in my arm under my jacket, a Dexcom receiver vibrating that my blood glucose level was too high in my pocket, an insulin pump connected to my abdomen with it’s clip pulling down my pants, that I was thinking how I had put a temporary basal rate reduction into my pump soon because the exercise would drop me too much. If I canceled, the outside world would never know it wasn’t because I was a lazy bum who over slept, the world would never “see” that my bg was too high that morning. A morning smile to people I met or recognized on the street. Rosy cheeks from the uphill hike through my neighborhood. A heart pumping sugary blood through my veins while my organs worked double duty trying to flush it out my system while my body absorbed the extra jolt of insulin pouring through me.
Yes, on the surface, I’m fine.