Diabetes

type 1, insulin pump, blood glucose

Plan B: making changes

I have a bit of a secret that I’ve kept from the lot of you for quite some time, and I’m actually a mix of shocked and impressed that I’ve been able to keep it for this long. But that day has come where I must – ABSOLUTELY MUST! – spill the beans. For about a year and a half now I’ve been working on a plan b to get out of journalism. It was a hard decision at first, rife with many hems and haws and I don’t knows. I’ve always loved to write. For as long as I can remember I’ve been telling people I was gonna be a writer, and at the ripe age of just 14, I defined that focus into journalism. But the thing is, the journalism I dreamed of, and the journalism I fell in love with is no longer the state of journalism today. And […]

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Cooking up a baby hiker

As many of you know, Big Ring is convinced we’re having a cyclist, not just a thumb-sucking alien baby, but a world-class cyclist, like a baby Mark Cavendish, or Andy Schleck, or Jeannie Longo kind of cyclist. But me, I’m pretty sure we got a hiker on our hands. Here me out on this. I had to stop running early in the pregnancy, because the activity, no matter how tempered or short it was drastically dropped my blood sugars to near comatose state. I took up the walking, much to my chagrin, but still, no matter how boring that snail’s pace activity was, my blood sugars almost always bottomed out with that one as well. (Maybe the kid was so bored, it had to add some low BG excitement into the mix.) So I pulled out Mr. Foldy, figuring not only would I be sprucing up my athletic pursuits, but

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19 weeks: The stubborn gene

The things I learned about thumb-sucking alien baby today: It’s stubborn. It has a beautiful spine. It may have evil tendencies. It’s going to be a future cyclist. And it moves… thank goodness! Today was my 18-20 week ultrasound and initially I thought I’d be going it alone as the lab is 45 minutes from Big Ring’s work. But that dear husband of mine caught the trepidation in my voice and announced a couple days ago that he’d be accompanying me. Normally this is supposed to be an exciting, glorious time right. But for me, I’d kind of been fretting about it. See, I’ve been freaking out lately that I haven’t yet felt any kind of alien baby movement. And rightfully so! You wouldn’t believe how many people in the last three weeks (doctors, nurses, friends, co-workers, strangers) have asked if I’ve felt anything. Uhm, no. (And it’s not like

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Hunchbacks of Diabeticland

Hiking, that’s the cure to my current state of boring, pregnancy approved exercise. While walks bore the heck out of me, and cycling is a little more challenged figuring out good solo routes from home, hiking, it’s golden. I went on an hour and half hike up Westwood yesterday with a couple of great girlfriends who I haven’t seen in forever. I was a little nervous at first as we met first thing in the morning, right after breakfast, and I wasn’t sure how my blood sugars would handle the exertion. The first 25 minutes were straight up hills, and oh man, while I was huffing and puffing (and believe me, I was) I loved it. I felt free, like I haven’t felt since my last truly good run. I could feel the endorphins shooting through my veins, I could feel the muscles in my calves contracting, working, pushing me

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Let the cycling season begin

You know it’s cycling season in the Princess/Big Ring household when Princess wakes up at 3:40 a.m. only to discover she’s alone in the bed, and that Big Ring has been up for hours already in preparation for the early morning viewing of Paris-Roubaix. Apparently his brain had gone into overdrive shortly after we turned the lights off for the night Saturday, and instead of trying to shut his thoughts out, he decided to embrace them. Starting at 1:30 a.m. Big Ring went whole hog on a video project he’d been story boarding in his head for hours. It’s not surprising really given that we were blessed with two days of sunshine this long weekend (mixed with some torrential downpour/sleet/hail) that had Big Ring in his glory atop his mistress Mademoiselle Lapierre. I kid you not, the second that sun comes out, I am lost to him. There’s hours of

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