Diabetes Art Day 2013

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Thanks to Diabetes Art Day 2012, I expanded my designs for a OneTouch Ultra cast resin ring, to a series of used test strip rings and then OneTouch Ultra bangle bracelets.   In December I discovered my health insurance covered the Verio IQ meter (and those gorgeous gold and silver test strips have jewelry-potential written all over them plus the meter lights up in the dark).  I’ve now completed one necklace, cast using the plastic insert that held my Animas Ping pump securely in it’s shipping container (One man’s trash is another woman’s treasure right?).

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Some photos of my test strip designs were used by OneTouch on their Facebook page for their coverage of Diabetes Art Day 2012 which was pretty cool.  There were people who commented the designs were ugly (I agreed, diabetes can be a really ugly disease) and people who actually thought I was wasting “good” test strips even though I pointed out that they were MY USED strips.  We all know the cost of test strips is daunting and we are also well aware of the amount of trash that comes with diabetes.  BG testing supplies, pump supplies, Dexcom inserters, and the packaging for all these items.

My goal with the jewelry (aside from challenging myself as a designer) is complex.  I read Diabetes Forecast’s article on Anatomy of A Test Strip and was intrigued.  I see beauty in test strips as not only a life saving device but also beauty as a product of technology, engineering and industrial design (my undergrad degree is in Industrial design and I launched a jewelry design business in 2009).

Back to my test strip jewelry goals… I have worn many of the pieces (especially the bangle bracelets on Blue Fridays).  I often find them to be a segue to conversations on diabetes much like my “blinged” Dexcom sensor was on my arm this summer.  If wearing some of my test strip designs gives me a chance to explain and educate and even bond with someone about diabetes, then great, bring it on.

I wore my Angled OneTouch Ultra ring to a T1 meet-up at my local JDRF chapter.  A woman came into the meeting, sat next to me and recognized the ring.  It was the first time someone said, “You’re Surfacefine”.  It was totally weird for me but this was the same woman who had asked about a foot issue months prior on Twitter.  I knew she lived in NYC and recommended my podiatrist (who I LOVE) and who also happens to be a fellow T1D.  We clicked immediately at the meeting and I was thrilled we got to chat in “real life”.  Way to go jewelry!

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As an artist, making one-of-a-kind jewelry pieces intrigues me.  The majority of my professional life involves working in mass production.  The combination of mass produced diabetes equipment (specifically all the disposable items that have a one-time use), made into one of a kind mold and a one of a kind layered resin design fascinates me.

Since my supplies are used, I am now collecting stuff like crazy (read: I’m a hoarder x10).  The finishing work on these pieces is time intensive (which I love).  I have 4 molds I am currently pouring and utilizing used pump supplies along with test strips.  My used diabetes supplies have become my jewels (please note I still like diamonds).

As very special shout to Lee Ann Thill who started Diabetes Art Day, The Diabetes Postcard Exchange and writes The Butter Compartment.  You can read more about Lee Ann and her latest projects at her About Me .

Photo Week in Review 1/21/13

Just some images that explain this week (and happy Friday).

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From top left: NEW D toys matched up for the first time since my robot self was upgraded in December.  I love that they matched at an awesome number (yes, I have doggie sheets).

My Dec G4 sensor was more OFF than stuck ON me by Tuesday.  I was waiting it out since I still hadn’t received new sensors and was growing concerned.  I’d only received 4 sensors with my initial shipment (unlike my 7+ where I got 3 boxes from the beginning).

Look what arrived!  Yep, a phone call and less than 48 hours and *presto*!  Sensors Ahoy!

It’s Friday which means Blue Friday and me taking off pics of myself at my desk.  Since it is FREEZING in my office, I will be wearing this cozy scarf all day and possibly gloves and my hat with ear flaps.

Do Good, Feel Good

Do Good, Feel Good is a phrase I say a lot.  I probably tweet it even more often.  It’s one of those phrases that just sticks in my head and plays over and over (kind of like The Cranberries’ Zombie or recently Kris Kross’ Jump.  I’m sorry if you now have these songs sticking in your brain too).  I digress.  Oops.  Yes, Do Good, Feel Good.

When I researched getting a CGM, specifically my Dexcom 7+, I started reading diabetes blogs in a mildly obsessive way.  That was my introduction to Kim from Texting My Pancreas.  Her blog led me to other wonderful diabetes blogs.  When I decided to bite the bullet (well in this case, let my boyfriend attempt to insert the Dexcom into the back of my arm), we watched her video twice possibly without blinking.  When I put the Dexcom in my arm the first time solo (I’ll admit it, I was scared), I watched that video two more times (this is the part where I must mention she has better gravity where she lives).  Anyway, Kim was a big help to me and I frequently refer to her in my diabetes mentoring program when questions about CGMs arise.

Kim started an “event” for the month of December called Give All The Things (you really should click that to see what I’m talking about).  I was immediately more smitten with her than I already was.   I won second place at the very beginning of the month of giveaways.  I won a small plush pancreas.  Oh you don’t know what a plush pancreas is?  Well you can see it here.  It made me laugh but it got me thinking about Kim’s pay-it-forward idea, an idea I try to incorporate into my own life.  I contacted Kim and told her a little about my jewelry design business and it’s connection to my fundraising walk teams, Alecia’s Stem Cells.  I offered to give her a pair of earrings for her giveaway.  Although it is not totally diabetes related, the jewelry IS made by a T1D (me) and 10% of the proceeds go to JDRF.  Kim wrote the sweetest note back.  It put a big goofy grin on my face.

Today Kim is giving away the earrings at Texting My Pancreas.  I saw the tweet about it this morning.  I immediately smiled.  What started as an overwhelming day still is overwhelming, but her post lightened me. Twice I have checked the comments (which is how you enter her contests) and both times I smiled more and “may” have had some extra moisture escape my eyes (must be allergies, I certainly am not crying again, right?).

If you have some time, check out the comments of some of her other Give All The Things posts.  It will immediately remind you how fortunate you are to be part of the DOC.

Do Good, Feel Good.  Thanks Kim.

Bangle?

A few weeks ago I made two rings out of used OneTouch and OneTouch Ultra test strips (side note: I have been using a OneTouch Ultra meter with my Ping pump for YEARS and YEARS. Finding 2 old regular OneTouch strips (black ones) in the bottom of a drawer proves I need to do some serious house cleaning). This idea has been in my mind for awhile, years maybe, but it wasn’t until a DSMA chat about the upcoming Diabetes Art Day 2012, that I finally made some ring designs.

The response to the rings has been pretty incredible and encouraging (OK not totally true but to the lady who said they were “ugly”, I feel that diabetes isn’t pretty either so I couldn’t really take it as an insult, more poignant to what I’d designed actually). OneTouch contacted me for permission to use one of my images on their Facebook page for a post about Diabetes Art Day which was pretty cool. Anyway, since Sunday afternoon/evening is when I plan to clean-up but lately has been my messiest time of the week, I got my designer groove on today.

Here’s a preview of my next OneTouch Ultra Used Test Strip Jewelry experiment (It’s going to be a bangle bracelet… well if this actually works)

Phase 2:

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phase 3:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phase 3+

I’d Rather Not Think About It

I’d like to preface this post by explaining I have lots of exciting, super-duper exciting things to post about, but those will have to wait for now.  This past weekend was a big one, but there was a big bump in the road (yes I just typed “pump” and stared wondering why it was the wrong word. Diabetes much?).

Friday, I ate lunch.  A few hours later, I puked like crazy & could not have been colder (not as bad as Pukefest 2012). The doctor on-call for my doctor sent me to the ER.

At the ER, a nurse took me into Triage quickly. Dexcom said bg was 277.  Hospital meter said 324.  I had been running between 77 to 126 all day even while puking.  Dehydration was kicking my butt.  After getting my vitals, I explained to the nurse everything that had and was currently happening to me, I concluded by saying I needed to take a correction.  She told me not to.  Actually she said she could not advise me to take a correction.  Ummmm what?!?  She said I needed to wait for a doctor.  Ummmm more what?!? This is the same woman who, when I showed her my pump and Dexcom, asked if they control each other.  I explained it isn’t a closed-looped system.  That did not help my cause.  She asked if my blood sugar is normally that high.  I politely explained my current HbA1c is a 6.4 so NO my BG is NOT NORMALLY 324!  I was told again NOT to take any additional insulin, was handed a puke bucket and sent to the waiting room.  I immediately took a mini correction.

30 minutes went by and I felt less nauseous (believe me there was nothing left in my system).  I started to feel desert-like thirst though.  Time did that thing it does, you know, ticking by. I took another mini correction.  BGs eventually in upper 200s and staying steady.  No one had checked on me.  They’d told me NOT to take a correction until I saw a doctor, they knew my most recent BG had been 324, and they LEFT ME!   I sipped diet ginger-ale I’d brought in my bag.  Baby sips.  I seethed.

I finished my drink.  I waited.  I needed a hand (well an arm) to get to the reception desk.  The woman who checked me in (not triage) explained there were people with more serious emergencies and that would delay my seeing a doctor.  Fair enough.  I told her I needed to take more insulin and explained I’m diabetic, on a pump, on CGM, blah blah then I stopped because I didn’t think I was connecting with her.  I apologized (not sure why), and asked if she was a nurse.  She was less than pleased but since she hadn’t been responding I wondered if my T1D/puking chatter was clicking.  Yes, she was indeed a nurse.  She said my vitals were good.  She told me I was looking at a 3 hour wait.  Ummmm what?!?  I needed fluids.  Give me the IV and I’ll figure it out myself out.  3 hours?!?  3 MORE HOURS?!?  So I explained, for the record, I was taking a necessary correction.  She told me not to.  I told her she was too late.  She said they didn’t want me to crash.  I said that wouldn’t happen.  I got feisty in my I-am-wearing-pajamas-with-multiple-sweatshirts-and-why-are-my-legs-wobbling-so-damn-much way.  I told her I’d been diabetic for 33 years and “they” could not expect a T1D to sit for 3+ hours with a high blood sugar and do NOTHING about it.  I *may* have even tossed out the word insane.  She explained they needed me to NOT take a correction so the doctor could see what was going on with me.  I could feel the heat in my neck.  I stayed calm (well calm-ish).

Then she said it, “They need to make sure you aren’t going into DKA.”

In my mind I may have punched her.  In my mind I also shook my head in disbelief like a cartoon character.  In my mind I stopped shaking my cartoon head and punched her again.  I leaned across the desk and slowly explained that if you tell a diabetic who’s blood sugar is in the 300s and escalating, NOT take a correction bolus while they continue to dehydrate, you will have bigger problems than possible food poisoning.  She argued back about not crashing.  I was about to crash her.  I tried to sound strong but I’m pretty sure my voice shook as I informed her that without a correction, there was no doubt they would be treating me for DKA.

We waited and waited.  No one EVER checked on me.  No additional BG checks.  My BG hovered between 185 and 194.  I’d take that.  Exhaustion was kicking in.  4 hours after I’d checked-in, I was taken into treatment.  A gurney in a hallway with another patient at my feet and another patient at my head.  A doctor arrived.  He was familiar with my story.  He may have been Doogie Howser.  I told him about the correction debacle(s).  I informed him of my present BG.  He told me that he felt T1Ds on a pump know more about their diabetes than they do so I should continue just doing my thing.

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I got an IV like a harpoon.

Yeah I got pics.

I was there FOREVER.  Anti nausea stuff and fluids perked me up.  The head doctor visited.  I got sassy as is my way, and we all smiled.  I told him the correction debacle.  He repeated what Doogie had told me, that I know more than they do about my diabetes, keep treating myself and they will treat the rest of me.

 

I continued checking my own BGs.  I saw some crazy stuff go wheeling by.  I got silly.  I was sent home at 3am.

 

My Mom’s 4-Letter Word

I’ve been active in JDRF (especially the JDRF Walk-For-A-Cure events) for much of my life.  I have two  Alecia’s Stem Cells teams walking this year (New York City on September 30th and Los Angeles on November 11).  Every year, I write a letter, asking (sometimes begging) my friends and family to participate.  There are years where writing the letter comes easily, while other years I agonize over it.  I try to have the letter ready to go on my diaversary (June 19th) but this year I did a diaversary blog post instead.  So yes, I’m a little behind my own schedule.  It got me thinking though, why JDRF?  I have recently shared my D-blog with my family and decided to ask my Mom, about why my parents got involved specifically in JDRF. Although I was a bossy 6 year old when I was diagnosed, I  wasn’t calling the shots (Get it? Diabetes pun? Shots? Ha) so here’s my Mom, filling in the blanks:

Seriously? My Mom is gorgeous, inside and out.    This was me pre- D.

 

When asked why did we get involved in JDRF?  The answer came easily.

Alecia, our firstborn child was diagnosed with diabetes at the age of six.  That day, June 19, was a shockingly sad time in our lives.  To say we were blindsided, is exactly how we felt.  This was a child who was the picture of health, extremely bright, adorable, always cheerful and up for anything.  Everything we had ever heard about this disease came running through our minds and we were devastated.  Fear of the unknown was stifling!

Our endocrinologist, Dr. Robert Kaye, was most encouraging.  He gave us the best advice which became our mantra – “Alecia is a child, who happens to have diabetes, not a diabetic who is a child.”  That was the beginning of our journey, becoming immersed in the education of the vast world of living with diabetes.  Dr. Kay suggested we become acquainted with JDRF.  Through our association with them, we quickly realized we were not alone.  JDRF became our lifeline to meet others with small children, to learn from those families who had been down this road and most importantly, we learned fact from fiction about this disease.

We attended lectures, participated in telethons, had Alecia appear in public service announcements and I became a member of JDRF’s board – ultimately running the Philadelphia Zoo walk.  We were always hoping with the funds raised through JDRF that a cure was in the wings to be realized by our precious little girl and all the others afflicted with this life altering disease.

As years passed our daughter grew up, and we did everything possible to ensure her a normal life, participating in various activities like other kids her age.  After college, she moved to NYC and became involved in the NYC Chapter of JDRF and has cultivated a team each year for the annual walk in which her family and friends all participate.  The involvement with JDRF has shifted to her as an adult.

Our memories of working along side Lee Ducat and her leadership of an all embracing foundation (JDF) now JDRF, still remain a source of inspiration. Lee fostered a community to welcome, educate, and most importantly diminish the fear factor for families.  JDRF introduced us to other families who shared the same ultimate goal to help our kid’s lives be relatively normal until the day they discover the four letter word – CURE.

Gettin’ Down… Goin’ Low

My boyfriend (herein after known as M) asks me how I’m feeling when I’m coming back from a LOW bg.  Awhile ago, he asked what it felt like to go LOW.  I described it as best I could but realized it has been such a long time since anyone has even asked me that question that I stumbled over my own babbling description.

Maybe a month ago I had a Saturday of Dexcom beeping lows.  Although partially user error (bolused perfectly for the food I was supposed to eat… operative word being “supposed”), I was also dealing with warm weather and a heck of a lot of walking.  I kept joking that perhaps I was CURED as I spent my day eating chalky glucose tablets almost hourly.  Maybe I didn’t need my pump after all,  I was a summer solstice pancreatic miracle!

M and I went to The GAP.  We both had a bunch of items to take back to the fitting room when we heard Dex beeping yet again. I was in the 70s and dropping (damn you arrow and your knowledge I should be able to feel.  Oh and by “damn you” I mean “thank you for saving me”).  I had already eaten through my glucose tabs, screamed in my mind, “OH MY GOD I’M SUGER NAKED”, and felt panic surge through me like I’d been electrocuted.  M took charge, told me to stay put, and he’d go get juice.  My gut screamed at me to say, “NO, I have to go with you”, but for some reason the self-concious, how-many-more-times-is-diabetes-going-to-interrupt-our-day part of me politely told him to get juice FAST and pointed him in the direction of a drug store.  I tried to play it cool.  I stood looking at the same shirt over and over, attempting to use the least amount of energy possible.  I’m fairly certain The GAP employees pegged me as a shoplifter as I remained motionless, looking at a shirt while holding an arm full of women’s clothing, the other arm full of guy’s gear, and scanning the doorway every 2 seconds.

By bg reached the high 50s and still headed down.  I was alone, mentally kicking myself for eating all my glucose tabs and not replacing them, and angry for ignoring my gut.  I started counting.  I decided when I counted to 60, I would walk over to the check-out counter, ask for the manager and explain that I needed help.  M would definitely be back in 60 seconds and he’d be the hero and that would be that.  60 seconds came and went.  I was in the high 40s. I kept waiting.  There was M, juice in hand, cap already off the bottle.  I drank like I’d been hanging-out waiting for him in the Sahara.  Within 5 minutes I was feeling better and we continued our GAP sale shopping.  M explained that he’d tried to find the “best” juice.  He wanted something that had enough sugar but also was healthy.  He wanted to get the right juice, not all refined sugars.  I celebrated his heroics but alone, in the fitting room, I knew I’d failed.  I’d never explained to my super athletic, gym loving M that when I’m LOW, the term “healthy” is swiftly tossed out the window.  I need pure glucose.  Gulpable glucose.  I need sugar loaded drinks.  Give me a COKE, STAT!

Jump ahead to this past weekend.  It was ungodly, sit-on-the-equator, oh-look-it’s-Satan, Welcome-to-Hell HOT!  M was back in town (oh did I mention I’m in a long distance relationship?  I didn’t?  That’s odd because being 3000 miles apart is so incredibly awesome I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned it.  Oh and in this case the term awesome = torturous). On Sunday morning my bg stayed in the 100-130 range.  I made a terrific breakfast (toot, toot to me) and we ran errands.  We dropped off a ton of my stuff at Goodwill (toot, toot to me for getting organized) and my Dex started beeping.  Dex has been way off recently but it didn’t need it to be correct this time, I FELT LOW.  I felt REALLY LOW.  It is indeed possible to feel the color drain out of your face.  I know because I felt it as it happened.  I grabbed glucose gel out of my purse.  Struggle with the microscopic safety seal.  OMG that stuff is bad!  Gelatinous, warm, thick, super sweet, yuckiness in a tube.  I tried drinking (is drinking even the right word?), that God awful goop.  I felt my hands shaking, my knees and legs looking much like the glucose gel (no, not neon and sugary but rubbery like Jell-O) and then I started to gag.  Not good.  This was not going to do the trick.

M saw my glucometer confirm my Dex warning and he looked at my face.  I looked LOW.  I knew, he knew I looked LOW.  I told him there was a Duane Reade (like the CVS/Rite Aid of NYC) ahead of us and I needed more than this glucose goop.  He grabbed my hand and we started race walking.  We got to the corner and I realized I’d been wrong.  It was yet another block ahead (note, it’s NYC and East to West blocks can be rather long).  M and I were sweating like crazy (gross but true) and he turned to me and said I should stay there in the shade of the scaffolding and he’d be back with juice.  OH NO!  I grabbed his hand tighter and said a very firm “NO”.  As we raced across the street and dodged slowpoke walkers, I explained what I should have said that day at The GAP, I was too LOW to be left alone. That if he left me in the shady spot there was a chance when he’d returned, I’d have X’s over my eyes and my tongue sticking out the side of my mouth.  I also added I’d be robbed (that might have been a bit of an exaggeration). Sadly we both found my cartoon-like imagery very funny which proves I’m sick in the head, not just the pancreas.  At Duane Reade we grabbed grapefruit juice.  Sugary, pink, grapefruit juice.  As I gulped, M started reading the nutrition label and warning me that there’s A LOT of sugar per serving.  YAY!  GIVE ME SUGAR!  We continued walking the aisles, relishing the wondrous air conditioning of Duane Reade as the color returned to my face.  My jittery hands ceased as stability returned and we headed to the diabetes section to pick-up more glucose tablets.  See ya never, glucose gel.  Ewwwww.

So what does it feel like to go LOW? You know on TV shows when the character gets shot and is slipping away and the other character is holding them and crying while repeating to just hold on *sob* help is on it’s way?  A LOW is sort of like that but both of those characters are me.  I tell myself calmly to keep it together while I frantically consume any sugar I can. The first time I explained to M how a LOW sometimes feels like my lips are going numb, almost like they fell asleep and my tongue also feels odd too but a different numbness, that’s exactly how THAT LOW felt.

Yesterday was the type of LOW from my childhood.  A sudden and abrupt paleness my skin doesn’t have even during the darkest winter (yep like an ill Snow White).  The twitching, shaking hands was always the give away as a kid.  Feeling like my legs were so unsteady and almost incapable of supporting me were symptoms I haven’t felt in quite sometime too.  When we headed to lunch (in a cab, thank God), I tried to explain how that LOW was different but yet a LOW I know well.  And the racing heart and sweaty LOW, yeah I know that one too.  There’s also a LOW that my vision gets a bit skewed like I’m about to get a migraine.

So #DOC, how do you describe your LOW?