Diabetes

type 1, insulin pump, blood glucose

Getting a head start

Diabetes, Training

The things I learned yesterday: If it’s pouring bathtubs of rain outside, stay home. If it’s pouring bathtubs of rain outside, and you do go out, pack a change of socks, shoes, and maybe even a towel or two. If it’s pouring bathtubs of rain outside, and you have a scheduled date, never ever leave the house without first double checking that you got the right date. When I woke up at 7 a.m. yesterday morning to get ready for the Grouse Grind, every bone in my body wanted to stay in bed, especially with the continuous rat-a-tat-tat of the rain I could hear outside. This was not optimum Grind-climbing weather. Sunny days, overcast days, a little sprinkle here and there, great. Monsoon, not so great. Had it been any other day, I would have bailed, said forget it, just wrapped my blanket around me and vegged on the couch […]

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Giggling off the poppycock

Diabetes, Training

You’ve got to be freaking kidding me! So, you know that dictionary of doctor talk I told you all about the other night, well turns out it was just a load of poppycock. Yes, poppycock! My soon-to-be super doctor extraordinaire diabetic chick translated the manual for me last night and I swear not even a minute in she was laughing, but it wasn’t a hearty laugh, it was more like a here we go again kind of laugh. She told me there was basically just one sentence in there I needed to know, which in human language said something to the effect of If you have type 1 diabetes and if you’re an endurance athlete, you’re pretty much hooped. Awesome. Translating the secret doctor code My soon-to-be doctor diabetic chick has seen these words before, many times. She tried doing a research paper on endurance sports for Type 1s, and

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‘Like a dog humping a football’

Diabetes, Training

Sometimes, I think I was meant to be of the male species. Shocking, you say. Yes, yes, I love my skirts and dresses, and the colour pink, and being a total girly girl. But I also love drinking beer with the boys. Maybe it has something to do with growing up with a big brother and a big, big brother and always wanting to do what the big boys were doing. Regardless, I’ve almost always felt more comfortable with the boys than I have with the girls (sorry girls) they’re just … easier. So last night when Mario asked if I wanted to join him and his best mans for a night at the UBC Grand Prix, which meant I’d essentially be crashing a boys night, I didn’t even think twice in my acceptance. I am practically one of the guys, just a lot more pretty is all 😀 Three

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Diabetes … and more

Diabetes, Running

When doctors go to school, do they learn another language, a language only they are privy too? Because seriously, after spending a weekend reading through a doc’s manual my head is spinning with incomprehensible doctor talk! On Friday I had an appointment with the dietitian and nurse at the VGH Diabetes Clinic. When I started making these appointments, I was hoping to get a fresh perspective on my disease and some insider knowledge on how to better manage it. But after that first visit in January, despite walking away happy with what I gleaned from the dietitian, I was so unimpressed with the pump nurse who basically told me she had no idea why I was there given how good a diabetic I am. Yes I’m a good diabetic, but I want to be a perfect diabetic. Is that really so much to ask for? Apparently it is. For this

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Types 1, they know

Diabetes

The last week has been pretty rough. I’ve been really struggling with my blood sugars, and as I’m sure most of you are aware by now, I’m somewhat OCD when it comes to my BG averages; I like perfection. And for the most part, I’m pretty close to it, but every now again, my BG likes to rebel, take me on a roller coaster ride of extreme highs and serious lows for seemingly no reason whatsoever. Nothing has changed. I’m eating the same foods. My infusions appear to be okay. I don’t have a virus that I know of. But for some jerk-like reason my BG has decided to flip the middle finger up at me. Previous times, I’ve suffered through it alone. Sure I had Mario and my family to rant about it to, and I had the specialists and the diabetic nurses and the pump manufacturers to send

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