T.G.I.F. Link-A-Palooza!

It’s been awhile since I’ve sat down and done up a list of my favorite links of the week, but Jill has made a special request, so I decided to get myself into gear and do it!

However, I’m actually in our New York office today and totally didn’t prepare myself for this update. Going off pure memory, I only came up with four - but hey, at least I kept the alliteration going!

Here is The Friday Four:

• First, a shameless plug for a project I’m working on at work (MWW Group). For months I worked with the consumer account team working on Gardenburger, and two weeks ago we launched a campaign called Real Men Eat Gardenburger with a mission of finding and rewarding a real guy out there who loves Gardenburgers and isn’t afraid to admit it! You can check out the fruits of our labor at the Real Men Eat Gardenburger website or you can check out my personal contribution to the cause by going straight to the Search for America’s Real Man contest page. If you submit yourself or your man, you could win a chance at a new flatscreen TV, a Ducane stainless steel grill, a year’s supply of Gardenburger and a catered party… The people are the voters so don’t think I hold any sway over the results. Have fun!
• Now, I like to think of myself as a ballsy girl, but a senator from Nebraska has thought up this crazy scheme to sue God to prove that Americans sue over stupid reasons might have gone just a tad too far… Wait a second, did I say might? Ha! I meant totally did! What’s he thinking? I suppose God only knows…
• A few weeks ago, Steve Jobs posted an apology letter to customers after Apple decided to knock off about $200 off their retail price for the snazzy iPhones three months after going on sale (no, I don’t have one, no, I don’t want one - knowing me and my track record with gadgets, I would probably break it). Well, the folks at Woot decided to have a little laugh at the expense of both Apple and Microsoft by writing up a sarcasm-laden apology letter to customers of Microsoft’s Zune. Larry Stalin, you rock.
• In more technology news that evokes a “seriously?” reaction from readers, Marie Claire asked femgadget blog Popgadget’s founder what her ideal cell phone would be, called… get this… the ShePhone. Yeah, can I vomit now? Anyway, hop over to Wired’s blog The Underwire to see a full diagram.

Confessions of a Lazy, Burned-Out, Twentysomething Diabetes Advocate

I have a confession to make.

I am a terrible diabetic.

No, really. I am. Honest.

I wouldn’t admit this if it wasn’t true.

Maybe it was The Move. Maybe it’s been the fatigue (which remains a mystery since I’m also too lazy to get more lab work - though I doubt anyone could fault me for that). Maybe it’s the switch back to the insulin pump. Maybe it’s the fact I’ve away from any sort of medical supervision for the last six months.

Or maybe I’m just not cut out to be a diabetic and I should be fired or dishonorably discharged and sent packing.

Really, I’d be okay with that…

But the truth is, things have been lousy here in the Garden State for the “can-do cupcake” (thanks Allie). I haven’t been testing very much. Maybe four, sometimes five times a day. You know, the usual round of morning, afternoon, evening and bedtime tests and sometimes they’re even before the meals! Imagine that!

They’re usually high. Sometimes they’re not. Occasionally they’re even low and I do a little happy dance because I’m slowly tugging my average back into an “acceptable range.”

Standard deviation who?

Let’s not even talk about the lack of gym attendance even though I’m shelling out a whopping $70 a month.

Or the eating habits. Which consist of sushi, sandwiches, cereal, the occasional apple, and a nightly dose of popcorn while watching Heroes (Heroes!) or the never-ending marathons of America’s Next Top Model or Law & Order: SVU. Maybe a salad or two thrown in for good measure.

It’s easy to get in the pattern of eating fast food almost everyday when you don’t own dishes. Or pots. Or forks. And it takes you half an hour to drive a quarter mile because you don’t know where anything is.

On Monday, I had an interview with a freelance writer for Diabetic Living, a publication from the folks at Better Homes & Gardens. It’s a terrible feeling to spend an hour talking about all the work you do to make the lives of people with diabetes better, making them happier and healthier and motivated, and to listen to people tell you how inspiring you are, how hard-working you are and realize that you’re really the poster child for what not to do.

It’s not the first time it’s happened.

I’m pretty sure it’s not the last either.

But I have been in New Jersey for over three months now. It’s time to quit using the “I just moved 2897 miles” excuse for why the above rant is excusable.

It’s not excusable. I said on Monday that being burned out and depressed is not an excuse for not taking care of yourself. Well neither is graduating college, going from a 97— zip code to a 07— zip code and starting a new job. Especially when that happened three months ago!

The magazine is supposed to publish the interview early next year.

Hopefully by then, I’ll actually be the girl that I say I am.

Dreams

I remember seeing this conversation awhile ago, I believe on TuDiabetes, about whether or not people dreamt that they were diabetic. Most people said that they weren’t diabetic in their dreams, or at least, they didn’t do anything that diabetic-ish (no testing their blood sugars, no going low, etc.). Sometimes I dream that I am a diabetic, because I’m with my friends with diabetes or I am doing something diabetic-ish, like testing my blood sugar.

But I have had a couple strange things happen in my dreams the last couple weeks and I was just wondering if anyone else has noticed this too.

Last week, I awoke to that awful, cotton-mouth inducing 547 mg/dl. But in my dream, just prior to waking up, I dreamt that I gulping water furiously. It wasn’t that I was high in the dream, I just dreamt that I was drinking a lot of water because I was thirsty.

Then last night, I dreamt that I was shoveling cookies down my throat. Then I woke up to a low blood sugar.

My guess is that my dreams are influenced by my blood sugar. When my body “knew” my blood sugar was rising, I dreamt about drinking water. When my body was going low, I dreamt about eating cookies (and I in fact ate one when I woke up).

Has anyone else had this happen? Or something similar?

I’m just curious to know what kind of impact the rise and fall of blood sugar has on our subconscious and how much people are actually aware of it.

Another One Passes By

I don’t have much to say today.

It was a pleasant weekend filled with much TV watching and my boss’s 32nd birthday.

Today is the first day of school at the University of Oregon, and while I disliked most of my time at the University of Oregon, I am a bit homesick for the feeling of reuniting with classmates and visiting my old haunts (namely Roma and Max’s).

So I thought I would post a funny picture that I took earlier this summer.

Hope everyone is having a pleasant Monday!

The Return of the Meme

Total Number of Books Owned: I have no idea. Not very many anymore, actually. I sold a couple boxes worth of books right before I moved East. I took the books that I either hadn’t read or couldn’t live without with me to New Jersey (I’d say about a couple dozen) and the books that I absolutely love but didn’t want to bring with me right away are back in Oregon. All schoolbooks and books that I read, liked, but don’t really feel compelled to keep were sold to Powell’s for a nice chunk of change. So I’m starting to rebuild my collection and I welcome recommendations!

Last Book Bought: The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell.

Last Book Read: The Sunday Philosophy Club by Alexander McCall Smith. Which surprisingly enough has nothing to do with Sundays or clubs, though it does mix in some philosophy into an otherwise solid murder mystery.

Five Books That Mean a Lot to You:

1. The Diary of Anne Frank - by Anne Frank. I have read this four times throughout my life. First, as a young, impressionable ten-year-old. Then again at age twelve. Once more at age fourteen, which put me at the same age Anne was in her book (I read it out loud to help me learn to speak with my retainer that I had to wear all day). Finally, at age 16. I still have the same copy. It continues to have so much impact on me and the way that I think of religion, relationships and human nature. If you haven’t read it, you really should.
2. Life of Pi - Yann Martel. Creative and mesmerizing to a fault.
3. Blue Like Jazz and Searching for God Knows What - Don Miller. The first time I ever read something by someone who thinks about Jesus in the same way I do.
4. Cheating Destiny - James Hirsch. The best explanation of living with diabetes that I have ever read.
5. The Phantom Tollbooth - Norton Juster. I have loved to read since before I knew how, but this was the first book that showed me what it felt like to be “sucked in” by a piece of imaginative literature.

Best Five Books You Read in the Past Year:

1. The Sunday Philosophy Club - Alexander McCall Smith.
2. Naked Conversations - Shel Israel and Robert Scoble
3. Man’s Search for Meaning - Viktor Frankl
4. Cheating Destiny: Living with Diabetes, America’s Biggest Epidemic - James S. Hirsch
5. My Sister’s Keeper - Jodi Picoult

Honestly, I think this might be all the books I’ve read in the past year… most of my reading was for school (even Man’s Search for Meaning was for school, but I loved it so much I’m counting it as a personal read too).

You know, memes spread like such wildfire in the O.C., I sure hope nobody decides to go jumping off any cliffs…

Only In New York

It must have something to do with the fact I live half an hour away from one of the coolest, most heavily touristic cities in the world, but ever since I moved here, I have had little reason to actually go out and make new friends because I have so many people from Oregon coming out and visiting. They’re not actually visiting me, they’re visiting the city, but my aforementioned proximity to the city makes it feel like they’re visiting me.

This past weekend, B, a friend of mine from college (and high school…and middle school… and elementary school… basically, I’ve known her always) was in town. B knows quite a few people in the city, so we made plans to try to meet up on Sunday.

I had been meaning to buy new pants, but I decided to avoid the Garden State Plaza or trekking down the Turnpike to the Jersey Gardens outlet mall (mostly because with all “affordable” prices, I knew I would go above and beyond my “I just need pants” goal). Instead, I hopped on NJ Transit and headed into The City.

More specifically, I headed to Soho. Land of handbags, high heels and teenybopper Gossip Girls who have too much time and money on their hands.

As soon as I stepped out of the subway station and my cell phone reconnected with society, I called B. She didn’t answer, so I left a message telling her I was in Soho, free all day and to call me back. After popping into Aveda to buy shampoo (okay, okay, it wasn’t on the list, but it was only $14 and it was the only other thing I bought!), browsing the boutiques and sidewalk vendors before hitting up Anne Taylor’s for my pants (love Anne’s - just a tad over my price limit, but still so nice…), I gave B another call. No answer, but I thought maybe she was still with her friend from upstate and didn’t hear the phone.

It was late afternoon, and I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and with all the walking around, I was famished. The sales clerk told me there was a cafe right across the street but when I stepped back onto Broadway, all I could see across the street was Scholastic’s office building. Right… Somehow I don’t think they sell mochas.

Meandering seemed the most viable option so I did some more browsing, accidentally landing in the East Village’s Italian festival but managed to maneuver myself around the throngs of people without getting crushed. After about eight blocks of walking, I was starting to get that feeling.

You know the one.

The one that says, “Hm. Food is sounding really really good right about now.”

But all I could see were restaurants. I didn’t want a sit down dinner. I just wanted a snack.

So I kept walking. I realize I probably should have sat down, tested and drank the juice that was sitting quietly in my messenger bag, but no.

I’m stubborn.

I wanted a cafe and dammit, I was going to find one.

After another three blocks, I eventually found a sign that look promising because, hey, it had the word “cafe” in the title. Most of what they had in the display case was heavy, fat-ladened cookies, pastries and tartes. Yummy, but not exactly what I wanted. I turned around to go back outside, but the “feeling” convinced me to not be an idiot and just sit down and eat something. I ordered a hazelnut coffee and a biscotti. Contemplated going outside to eat. Decided against it, as there was only a bench to sit at. No tables.

Where to sit, where to sit, I thought. Oh, a booth. I like booths.

I walked towards the back of the cafe, to the one seat in the place that was a booth.

I set my coffee and biscotti down, tossed my messenger bag on the seat, started to turn and sit down and I saw…

B.

Sitting at the table directly across from me.

Stunned. Absolutely stunned.

B tells me she never ended up listening to my message, so she had no idea I was anywhere near Soho.

8 million people in New York City proper.

At least two dozen restaurants just within our five block radius (including a Starbucks right across the street).

Two friends manage to find each other with absolutely no communication.

And we’re not even from here!

Normal

I’m normal.

Well, okay, anyone who knows me knows there’s absolutely nothing normal about me, but my thyroid is normal.

Which would be great if it wasn’t for the fact that I know there is something wrong with me (stop. don’t even say it.) and I would like to know what exactly it is.

Dr. Jersey (not her real name) told me that the results from my ultrasound hadn’t been sent yet, so she’ll give me a call if there are any abnormalities there. But the actual results of the thyroid tests came back completely and utterly normal. Not even a hint of “Hmm… curious…”

Nothing.

It wasn’t a complete waste of an hour, thankfully. Dr. Jersey gave me a new prescription for CBC (complete blood count) and the various anemias - low on iron, low on B12. We also decided I might as well get the usual barrage of diabetes tests out of the way, because I can’t for the life of me remember what I had tested in April. So I’ll have, oh I don’t know, a pint or so of blood sucked out of me to test the anemia, A1C and cholesterol, and whatever else was written on the script.

Dr. Jersey also copied the thyroid results and the letter from my ophthalmologist to take with me to the endocrinologist (that is, when I actually have one). I skimmed the letter and it was fairly predictable… “Allison has a history in insulin-dependent diabetes…” “Allison’s results were…” “Allison shows no signs of diabetic retinopathy at this time…” (yes!).

But at the very end, it says, “Thank you for referring such a nice young woman. I look forward to seeing her in the future.”

That made me smile.

Click It or Fix It

Now this one’s a doozy:

It was early. Very early. Still in the four o’clock hour early. And I had to go the bathroom. And it felt like the Sahara desert had taken up residence in my mouth.

Oh, this can’t be good.

Switched on the light. Coerced my body into leaving the bed and tottered to the desk where my meter sat.

Strip.

Prick.

Wait.

547 mg/dl.

Am I seeing things? Rub eyes. Nope, still says 547 mg/dl. The burning sensation in my legs and the boulder in my stomach tell me it’s probably the truth and not worth wasting a strip to see if it’s a mistake.

547 mg/dl? Really? Now, I realize I did not have the most diabetic-friendly of dinners last night (slice of Sbarro’s pizza and a salad, followed by a McFlurry), but I was not about to go traipsing around Midtown looking for a quick place to eat when these two places are directly across from Penn Station.

But my blood sugar was 97 mg/dl at dinner (approximately 8:30 p.m.) and my blood sugar was 128 mg/dl when I went to bed (at approximately 11:15 p.m.). And I did bolus for 90 carbs. Sure, maybe I missed 10 or 20 carbs. But still.

That’s one hell of a jump.

First order of business was to bolus. Scrolled up… and up and up… to 547 mg/dl, hit the blue ACT button a couple times and voila.

As I stepped into the bathroom and pulled down my PJ bottoms, I noticed some amiss.

My tubing was missing! Well, not so much missing as just not connected to my set in my stomach.

Oh!My!G-d! No wonder I’m in the five hundreds! I haven’t been getting any insulin. How long have I been without?

My mind replayed the days events:

I had gone to Soho. I had gone shopping. I had gone to Anne Taylor’s to try on pants. I had disconnected because I find it easier to try on clothes when I’m not worried about unclipping, clipping, re-clipping, unclipping again and again.

Oh no!

Did I not reconnect after trying on pants?!

Uh, Allison, my imaginary diabetic friend, who is vastly more intelligent than I, interrupts, you left Anne’s at five o’clock in the evening. It’s now five o’clock in the morning. If you had actually gone that long without any insulin, you and I would not be having this conversation.

Good point.

But then I remembered something else about Anne’s. When I was putting my jeans back on and reconnecting my insulin pump, I noticed something strange. The tubing it did not make the click sound when I connected it to the set. It slid in just fine, but now click noise. In fact, if I pulled on the tubing, it actually disconnected itself, even though I wasn’t holding down on the clamps.

Very interesting, I thought, I should probably do something about that.

Ha. Guess who didn’t. Obviously the reason my blood sugar had skyrocketed past the stratosphere and was nearing the moon was because it had disconnected itself while I was sleeping.

So, after finishing the bolus, I put in a new infusion set and tubing to make sure we didn’t repeat this little adventure anytime soon. I grabbed a bottle of diet Coke and attempted to fall back asleep, though it’s rather difficult to get comfy when you’re ketotic and ready to vomit.

Moral of the story: If you don’t hear the click it, better get home and fix it.

My First Ultrasound

Petrified of missing my first ultrasound this morning, I actually managed to crawl out of bed early enough to take a nice shower, blow-dry my hair, get dressed and check my e-mail all while not being late for the train. Total time: 63 minutes.

Unlike the rest of my week which consists of falling out of bed (sometimes literally, damn socks on hardwood floors!) thirty minutes after my alarm goes off, rushing to shower, running some air over my hair before pinning it back in a ponytail, throwing on whatever needs minimal ironing and then grabbing a cereal bar on my way out the door. Total time: 27 minutes. Ugh.

I rolled up into Penn Station at about 9:45, which gave me plenty of time to walk the nine blocks crosstown to the Tisch Hospital at New York University for my first ultrasound.

No, I am not pregnant. Just very, very tired.

Tisch Hospital is huge, but not as big as some hospitals I’ve been to (read: Oregon Health Sciences University which is enormous). I haven’t been to a hospital in a long time (read: April, but for a diabetic, five months is a long time) and I realized while walking through the lobby to the elevator that it’s only when I’m in a hospital do I really not feel sick. Which is kind of an interesting perspective to have. Usually when you’re in a hospital, you feel sick. Because you are, otherwise you wouldn’t be there (unless you’re visiting someone else who is sick).

I realized that that being around so many other people with much worse - or at least, much more obvious - illnesses made me feel like I didn’t really belong there. The only thing obvious about me was the little box clipped to my jeans, and even with the tubing, most people still think it’s an MP3 player. (It isn’t. Stop asking.) I don’t really feel sick. I know I am sick, but I don’t usually feel sick. Sometimes, when my blood sugar is really high or really low, I feel nauseated or in pain, but most of the time, I just like feel like me.

I checked into the Radiology department and took my seat in the waiting hallway (yes, it was a hallway, not a room). When they called my name, I followed a petite Indian woman and she took me inside. After just a few minutes, a blond, Polish woman escorted me into one of the examing rooms, where I laid down.

The room was dark and the bed terribly awkward and uncomfortable, tilted slightly. I wonder how many women, if any, have seen their babies for the first time there? I don’t know if the Obstetrics department uses the Radiology ultrasounds or not, but I liked pretending.

Just like all ultra sounds, there is that gel involved. It was really warm at first, but then it cooled down as the nurse ran the wand over my throat and across my thyroid gland.

The process took about ten minutes and then it was over. I wiped the gel off my neck and the nurse told me I could go.

I have to say, the experience was rather anticlimatic. I’m not sure if I was hoping for a big to-do, like an MRI is. I didn’t even get to see what it looked like.

I bet when I have a baby it will be more exciting…

Coming Tuesday: The results.

Show What You’re Made Of

This must be “National Send Out Your Diabetes Press Release” week because I swear I have never been sent so many pitches in such a short period of time! Luckily, unlike most e-mails I receive, these are actually worthwhile news bits that hopefully will spark your interest.

Inspired By Diabetes:

“Inspired By Diabetes” is another effort to bring diabetes out of the shadows and into the forefront of the world’s attention. The website sponsors the Creative Expression Competition, which requests anyone touched by diabetes to share his or her story through some sort of artwork. The Grand Prize winners (in two categories - U.S. and global) will receive a $5,000 USD contribution to the charity of their choice and a trip to the U.S. or global (depending on their category) Inspired By Diabetes art exhibition. More information can be found at their website.

As someone who has negligible artist talent, I look forward to seeing the contributions by the diabetes community!

(Hat tip to Melanie Seasons!)

DAWN Youth WebTalk Survey:

The ADA, NovoNordisk, IDF and ISPAD are working together to promote the DAWN Youth WebTalk survey, which is part of a worldwide initiative to better understand the attitudes, wishes and needs of young people and their parents affected by diabetes. For each completed survey, Novo Nordisk will donate $1 to the World Diabetes Foundation project “Children with Diabetes in Tanzania.” This roject helps poor children and youth with type 1 diabetes gain access to treatment. The survey is open to both teens and college-age diabetics and their parents. To fill out the survey, click here. Enter in passcode ADAN11.

(Hat tip to Dana Lewis!)

CGMS Focus Group:

A diabetes medical company is looking for people interested in participating in a focus group on the Continuous Glucose Monitoring System. They are looking in particular for people with experience with the CGMS. To find out if you qualify, just answer a few questions in this survey. They will compensate patients in the focus group with $100.

(Hat tip to Kelly Close!)

World Diabetes Day:

The first UN-recognized World Diabetes Day is coming up in just two short months, and to encourage participation in this year’s events, the International Diabetes Day has invited all bloggers to post World Diabetes Day banners on their blogs (I’m sure you have seen them at here, here, here and here - among others.) To display your own banner and proclaim your allegiance to The Cause, visit the Banner page at the World Diabetes Day website. Please visit the World Diabetes Day website to find out more about World Diabetes Day, the Unite for Diabetes Campaign, the story behind the blue circle and what events will be held in your neck of the woods.

I am looking forward to attending the festivities in New York City (already requested the day off!). If you live in the NYC area, make plans to attend the first World Diabetes Day held at the United Nations headquarters!

(Hat tip to Stephanie Tanner!)

That’s it on my end! Check out Kerri’s or Amy’s blog for more diabetes news and surveys if you’re into that sort of thing.