Choices Diabetes

(Nothing in this post is suggested by or paid for by a company.  The entity in charge of this content?  My stomach.)

My days are spent with two hands snuggling the baby, two hands typing on the computer, one hand folding laundry, another hand changing a diaper, another heating up a bottle, and the last land shooing Siah away from BSparl while she plays.  (Yes, I have eight hands.  Am an octopus.  In theory.) 

So anything culinary that requires a big, cooking-type process just is NOT happening these days.  I have a tendency to grab snacks whenever I can, and these are the grabbables that are topping my list lately:

Asian pears (They’re like particularly sweet apples with a grainy, tasty skin.  Chris and I basically fight over these because they are so good.)

These Lemon Parfait things from Yoplait.  (Awesome when I want a sweet treat but am not willing to bolus seventeen units for it.  And I am loving everything lemon lately.  Also loving alliteration, apparently.)

Hard-boiled eggs.  (I can snag one with one hand and crack it open, all while BSparl is asleep in my arms.  Perfect!  But don’t crack it against your head unless you’re totally sure it’s hard boiled.  Poor Ramona.)

And these Kozy Shack tapioca puddings.  (I love tapioca pudding.  Always have, even though some people give me crap for liking a dessert that has the consistency of roe.)

Yum all around – just don’t combine all four together.  Something about tapioca topped with hard boiled eggs makes my stomach lurch. But separate?  Totally delicious.

What snacks are topping your list?

Source: Six Until Me.

Chris Stocker lives with Type 1 diabetes in south Florida. He shares his thoughts and struggles on his blog, The Life of a Diabetic. Chris has faced some tough times, including missing the recent Diabetes Social Media Summit because he was down on his luck, which just broke my heart. Having been hit with diabetes [...]

Source: AmyT

While I was at CBC a few weeks ago, one of the staff members asked me if I was planning on having more children.

"I don’t think so," I said, without hesitation.  "I love my daughter endlessly, and now that she’s part of my family, I can’t imagine my life without her, but I can’t lie to you.  I didn’t enjoy being pregnant.  I wanted a baby, but spending nine months pregnant was very, very stressful."

The staff member who asked the question looked disappointed.  And in that moment, I sort of wish I had lied. 

"Oh … you look disappointed.  I’m sorry!!  It’s not just because of diabetes stuff.  It’s my own personal preference.  I don’t want to lie!"

And I won’t lie.  The end result of my pregnancy was the most beautiful, smiley baby I have ever laid eyes on, and having her as part of our family has been the greatest joy that Chris and I have ever experienced.  Seriously – it sounds like a cheesy Hallmark card, but it’s true.  This kid fills a hole in my heart that I didn’t even know existed until I heard her cry and I finally felt complete.

But being pregnant, the actual journey of carrying her inside of me, was not an experience I’m looking to repeat.  This isn’t entirely a diabetes-based decision, either.  There are a lot of factors that play into my decision.  Of course, being diabetic for almost 24 years does play a big role in my decision to have only one child.  I feel like my body has been through a good amount of chaos over the last two plus decades, and pregnancy didn’t improve any diabetes-related complications that were starting to bloom (namely retinopathy, which I’m having checked again in August). When BSparl was born, she came out healthy and strong (and with a lot of hair, which surprised me for some reason), and I was in decent medical shape, too.  I feel like she and I beat some odds, and I’m not sure I’m ready to roll the dice a second time.

Because it wasn’t just the diabetes complications.  It was a lot of the guilt, too.  I didn’t do well with the pregnancy-related guilt that remains even now.  While I was pregnant, I felt like every meal came with a side of extreme guilt.  I worried that I was eating the wrong foods, taking too much/too little insulin, and that every blood sugar spike was literally boiling the baby as she grew inside of me.  I watched the graph on my Dexcom and wondered why it looked more like an M than a nice, flat line.  I worried incessantly about every low blood sugar.  

Being a high-risk pregnancy, I spent a lot of time at the doctor’s office.  I had approximately one ultrasound a month, and each time I held my breath as they searched for my daughter.  Part of what comes along with a diabetic pregnancy is a lot of information, about complications that could arise and birth defects and risk factors and all kinds of scary stuff.  Sometimes I would lie in bed at night and think about all the health factors that were in play in my frame and the fear would chew on my mind, then settle in my heart.  It was almost too much information, and I had a difficult time emotionally handling it.

Nevermind the weight gain and the preeclampsia and the body image battles and the stretch marks and the emotional rollercoaster.  And nevermind the 3 1/2 weeks of hospitalization and bedrest before my eventual retinopathy-instigated c-section.  (That’s just a plain ol’ perfect storm of crap there.)

I always pictured myself as a mom, but I never saw more than one child in that picture.  All diabetes and health-related issues aside, I feel comfortable with one child.  I don’t feel ashamed that I only want to have one baby, or embarrassed that I’m deciding to keep my family small.  

Of course, I have had a lot of people ask, and most of these people seem to live in my grocery store and stalk me in the checkout lines:

"Oh, how old is your baby?" 
"She’s three and a half months." 
"Ooh.  She’s a cutie.  When are you planning to give her a little sister or brother?" 
 … or (and this has been my favorite one so far)
"You should hurry up and have another one so your daughter doesn’t end up a screwed up only child."

Whaat??

I love my daughter, and the difficult pregnancy that brought her here makes me love her even more.  But I feel more than content with one child, and I’m not sure how else to answer the question of "Are you ready for another one?" with "No, I think she’s going to be an only child." 

I felt bad when the girl from CBC asked me that question, because I wanted to tell her "Yes!  I will be the Old Woman in the Shoe, with so many children I’ll be clueless as what to do."  Because I wanted her to know that anything is possible, even with diabetes, and if she wants to happily end up in a shoe, then she should go for it.  Anything is possible, depending on what you want.  But the truth is, for me,  I don’t want to live in a shoe.  (Three cats in a shoe?  Insanity!)  I also don’t want to put my body through another pregnancy, for way more than just diabetes reasons. 

I feel content.  I’m very happy with my daughter, and I love her endlessly.  And at this stage in my life, in my 30s and with more then two decades of diabetes, I’m comfortable with having the humans in my family even with the cats.  If circumstances change and our family is graced with another child, we will love that baby, but at this point, we’re happy being a team of three.

Source: Six Until Me.

Ginger Vieira kind of blows me away.  She has lived with Type 1 diabetes and Celiac disease for over 11 years. And she holds 14 national, drug-tested powerlifting records and the Vermont state record for the female bench press. She’s recently established herself as a cognitive Health & Chronic Illness Life Coach at her new [...]

Source: AmyT

A week ago, I felt very crummy about my level of physical activity lately.  And about my post-baby body.  And just about everything related to diabetes management.  I felt like the only thing I was doing was raising the baby, and everything else was falling by the wayside.

I needed to be held accountable to my desires to realign my health.  And for the last week, I’ve gotten back on track a bit.  I haven’t missed a single fasting test (we’re talking immediately testing, like before I even vault from the bed in the morning) and my meter average is down in the last 30 days, from an average of 175 mg/dl (horrible for me) to 126 mg/dl (almost there).  Even though I’m not liking all the numbers I’m seeing (hello, 214 mg/dl this morning after a miscalculated midnight snack), I’m at least emotionally ready to handle any number that shows up.

I also think I’ve hit a bit of stride with working out, as well.  It’s not so much the actual workout, but more just GETTING THERE.  With BSparl and her cute little needs, she and I spend a lot of time together.  Scheduling a time to get a workout in has been a challenge.  I can’t bring her to the gym with me, so if I head out for a real "gym workout," I need to negotiate with Chris’s schedule as well.  We have the ellipmachine here in the house, but I need to have BSparl either napping or in a chilled out state (read:  memorized by her hands or the flying snail) before I can climb on for a 30 minute haul.  For me, I had to break through the mental wall of "I deserve some time for this."  I was making what I’ve heard is a classic new mom mistake, which is to let the baby dictate everything about my day:  wake up when she wakes up, sleep when she sleeps, and exercise once she goes to college. 

I needed to grow a pair and do some things for myself.

(Ew, Kerri.  Did you seriously just write "grow a pair?"  Where’s your class, lady?  Hathat.  /digression)

BSparl usually goes to bed around 9:45 pm and sleeps until about 8:30 am, without waking up.  (Except for last night, when she woke up at 3 am and wanted to hang out and talk about her presidential picks for 2012.  She made some mention of a Hilary/Siah ticket, which I would love to see.)   So I’m trying to schedule my workouts for either before she wakes up in the morning or after she hits the sack.  I’m doing the same for my consulting schedule, working my conference calls in during scheduled nap times and for days when Chris is also working from our home office.  Now that the baby is developing more of a set schedule, I can work mine around hers.  (Which explains why I was on the ellipmachine yesterday morning at 11 am, during the first of BSparl’s naps.  And at the gym again late last night, after the little biscuit had gone to bed.)

Workouts are slower than they were, pre-pregnancy, but much better than a month or two ago.  My c-section scar is healing very nicely, and I’ve regained some muscle mobility in my lower abdomen (meaning that I don’t have to roll on my side like a crustacean when I try to get up from doing situps).  Overall, I’m aiming to do more cardio these days because I want to lower my overall body fat percentage, and because I have tendinitis so badly that I can’t pick up a damn weight even if I wanted to.  But now that I’ve gotten myself to the gym a few days in a row, I feel back in the groove of working out … and I missed it.  So I want more of it.

And that’s the feeling I missed.  That desire.  For something more than making certain the baby is healthy and happy.  I want to be healthy and happy, too.  

Game on!

Source: Six Until Me.

Amy Johnson, now age 18, of Kansas City, Missouri, is the American Diabetes Association’s 2010 National Youth Advocate — which has got to be very exciting for any young person. She’s spending this year traveling around the country giving talks to encourage youth and adults alike “to get involved in the fight against diabetes.” The [...]

Source: AmyT

Terrible habit, sarcasm.  Especially the "your mom" retort.  Like when my college roommates are out at the bar and someone asks for another beer.  Instantly, "Your mom wants another beer."  Immature retort?  Indeed.  But almost reflexive at this point?  Unfortunately, indeed again. 

(This intro has a point – bear with me.)

This morning, I woke up with my first bad low in a while.  For the last month or so, I haven’t seen lows worse than 55 mg/dl, and my sensitivity to the symptoms seems to have increased a bit.  But while the lows of the last few weeks have felt mild, this morning’s 49 mg/dl raked me over a little bit.

I woke up feeling groggy and warm, despite the air conditioning and the fact that I’d slept about seven hours straight.  (Yay for Sleeping-Through-the-Night-in-her-New-Crib BSparl!) The corners of my mouth were numb and I felt like my whole brain was encased in cotton balls.  I reached for the black meter case and brought it close to me in bed.  Fully intended to test.  But instead fell back asleep for a few minutes, with my meter snuggled against me.

Once I did wake back up, it had been another eight minutes.  And my symptoms were progressing, giving rise to shaking hands in addition to the cotton ball veil.  But it’s strange, where my brain goes when I’m low.  I had a juice box right on the bedside table.  I knew I was low and didn’t need to test to confirm, but I was on some kind of OCD autopilot.  I had to test.  Instead of grabbing the juice from beside me, I instead grabbed my meter from the bed, walked out into the kitchen, and set up the machine on the counter top. 

BEEP!

Shunk.

49 mg/dl.

"Okay,"  I said out loud, and took some glucose tabs from the cupboard.  (Chompy, chompy … always a weird effort to get those things chewed up when I’m that low.) 

And then I heard BSparl stirring in the next room.   Not crying, but just stretching her little BSparly legs and easing into the morning routine.  I went in to stand at the side of her crib while I waited for my blood sugar to rise. 

"Hey sweetie girl.  Good morning!"

She kicked her legs and grinned at me.

"Hi!  Hang on just a few minutes, okay?  I’m having a low blood sugar and I need to wait before I get you up.  Just another minute or so.  I’m low.  Your mom is low."

And I thought of my roommates tossing the "your mom" retorts around with reckless abandon. I stood there giggling like a fool for at least a minute, the smile of irony on my face causing my daughter to bust out with an even bigger smile. 

"That’s right, baby girl.  Your mom is low."  

Finally – FINALLY – the "your mom" actually makes sense.  (And with that, I’ve come full circle.)

Source: Six Until Me.

Diabetes and sex = always an intriguing topic mix. I am happy to report that today, we have one of the country’s top authorities on this mix, the virtual ‘Dr. Ruth’ of Diabetes, Janis Roszler, to offer some practical tips for keeping it spicy in the bedroom, despite the Big D:

A Guest Post by Janet [...]

Source: AmyT

I am not a chef.  I’ve never cooked up a meal, a feast, or even a storm.  Nada.  But since today is D-Feast Friday, I wanted to do my part and post the one thing I can make well.

No, it’s not the delicious popovers from Jordan Pond.  Not the bizarre Green Drink, either.  And it’s not the pumpkin roll or the chili.  This recipe only features one ingredient and requires only one pan, but it takes about three hours to make.  It’s the first recipe I’ve ever completed without screwing it up, and I do it right every time.  

Maybe I am a chef after all?

BEHOLD!  The low-carb, gluten-free treat that’s perfect for battling back against the summer heat.  

The mighty ice cube.

(Thank goodness for D-Feast Friday participants who can actually cook.  I’m looking forward to trying out so many of the recipes that are going up across the diabetes blogosphere today!)

Source: Six Until Me.

I was definitely a little awed (OK, and maybe a little jealous) when I discovered that fellow diabetes writer Riva Greenberg had been selected to write about diabetes for the influential national news & commentary blog, the Huffington Post. But then it occurred to me what a boon this is for all of us D-bloggers [...]

Source: AmyT