…to struggle with my bloodsugar.
This weekend was my workplace’s Annual Dinner and Dance. Not coincidentally, this weekend I hit both the highest high and lowest low of my pregnancy. I thought I did a pretty good job of tracking carbs during the meal (which lasts a couple of hours and includes a few courses…and is generally extremely delicious), but I clearly erred somewhere prior to dessert. Prior to the dessert that I thought I could manage. Prior to the dessert that I (for some reason unbeknownst to my rational self) thought I didn’t need to pre-test for, figuring that a large estimated bolus would suffice. (There seems to be an eat/drink first, think later trend starting here and I don’t like it.)
Shortly after said dessert, I was a whopping 16.0 mmol/l (288 mg/dl). Before this experience, my record pregnancy-high (for the current pregnancy) was a 14.9 mmol/l (268 mg/dl). I “enjoyed” the rest of my evening through a haze of thirst and guilt. I thought I had everything under control when I went to bed a few hours later. It was still higher than I wanted it to be, but coming down at a reasonable pace – not too fast, not too slow.
Before long, I was waking up to a wicked nypo of 2.0 mmol/l (36 mg/dl) – the lowest low of this pregnancy. (In fact, that’s about as low as I ever get. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been below 2.0.) I managed to avoid eating everything in my kitchen mainly because of my lack of energy to do anything involving moving. Apparently that worked in my favour because sticking to the dextrose tabs and soda crackers in my bedside table levelled me out to a nice 6.4 mmol/l (115 mg/dl) by the next time I woke up.
If anyone is wondering…no, I wasn’t wearing my CGMS. Thankfully I woke up to this one on my own. I’ve felt a real need for a couple of days off-CGMS lately. For that reason, combined with one coming up in the point below, I did not have my semi-trusty, semi-reliable low-bloodsugar alarm on call last night. Bad timing.
…to wish I didn’t wear an insulin pump.
This is because insulin pumps and holiday dresses simply do not mix. While I am that woman who has resigned herself to wearing a pump on my waistband on a daily basis, I’m not that woman who is comfortable clipping her pump to the outside of a cocktail dress. I’m also not that woman who can figure out how to hide a pump anywhere between or around “the girls” without appearing to have an odd third rectangular boob. I’m small, so most pump-hiding places on my body result in a strange lump visible through my dress. I also don’t have a pump remote, so no matter where Pump goes, Pump must make occasional appearances throughout the night. This means no hiding in bicycle shorts. And even if I could make “the girls” option above work, I haven’t wrapped my head around fishing in my cleavage at a work function, so that option gets a second “no”.
In the past I’ve resorted to wearing a formal skirt/top instead of a dress. Then I have a waistband and I’m happy. But right now I’m pregnant and my options are limited. This weekend they were limited, in fact, to one dress that was borrowed from a good friend. It was a great dress, and loose enough for my very unsexy pump thigh holster from Medtronic to sort of work. But all night I was struggling to access the pump and to keep it from sliding down my leg. The combination of this distraction and my thirsty guilty haze mentioned above didn’t really put me in a dancing mood.
This is also the other reason that I wasn’t wearing a CGMS. Not only does the transmitter make for a lump on my belly that isn’t well hidden by clingy formal attire, but any buzzing/beeping/vibrating of my pump caused by my sensor would have required that pump to be hauled out of its hiding place and dealt with. And since I’d just been on a short CGMS break, I would have had to insert earlier in the day and then would still be trying to calibrate that puppy during my 2-hour long game of carb-guessing and mistake-making. In general, it just didn’t sound like a very good option.
…to navigate my way around holiday baking.
Usually I do an “okay” job of working a little bit of holiday sweetness into my diet, but this year my pregnancy is making me want to be extra careful. So I figured I’d do a bit of Splenda baking to provide me with some tasty alternatives. This weekend I made these cookies. The experience and result were both a bit disappointing. More in an upcoming post.
…to start thinking about my D-Anniversary.
This year, at the end of December, is my 30th anniversary of being diagnosed with diabetes. It’s my D-Anniversary, or Diaversary, or whatever you want to call it. I know it feels like a weird reason to celebrate, but I’ve tried to start a little tradition of celebrating some of the milestone anniversaries. For my 25th, I bought myself a silver ring and had it engraved with my diagnosis date, leaving room for a cure date that I hope will someday be added. I’d like to do something similar for my 30th. The traditional 30th anniversary gift is the pearl. I don’t normally wear pearls, so I’m thinking of going with the more modern gift option of a diamond. I don’t want to get too carried away and spend too much, but I’m thinking a small diamond pendant. When I get something, I’ll definitely post a picture. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions for a good gift to get myself, let me know!