Tag Archives: low blood sugar

08May / 2013

Dress Rehearsal

The Klansman waves goodbye.

8:03AM: the Klansman waves goodbye.

Spring semester roll toward summer with three performances end of week plus standardized science testing plus School of Rock, dentist, dilated eye exam, lacrosse, plus usual everything do; fingers crossed also hair/toe maintenance (Bigfoot only); plus friend/running partner moving away, need many lunch/dinner/beer dates. Also running dates.

Bubs not star show. Parent heart in throat regardless: feel miracle Bubs agreeable for wear jeans/wife-beater ensemble, perform choreographed moves, public singing. Shy, silly person apparently grow up/expand horizon.

Today first dress rehearsal. 4:45 – 7:30PM with instruction: eat dinner before rehearsal.

This looks much worse than it is. I mean, that's not his real skin, and the dark bits aren't coagulated blood.

This looks much worse than it is. I mean, that’s not his real skin (Flexifix!), and the dark bits aren’t coagulated blood. But it is totally hanging off. Yet still working with numbers that match VerioIQ. What?

Bigfoot plan real dinner (grilled meat/broccoli salad) for 7:30PM; requisite pre-dinner = pizza/Diet Coke en route @4:30PM. Dexcom 102 & straight, Verio IQ114. Under-bolus even though pizza because not sure what rehearsal mean for up/down BG.

4:46PM.

4:46PM.

VerioIQ confirms it. BOOM.

VerioIQ confirms it. BOOM. Players, this is with the Dexcom sensor hanging offa him, barely attached.

Arrive rehearsal. Zzt-zzt-zzt. LOW UNDER 80. Pffft.

2 Glucolift. Only 2 because pizza. Because under-bolus. And because pizza.

Half of a moment later. Two Glucolift in belly. Time to go backstage. Thus ends Dexcom coverage.

4:58PM. Two Glucolift in belly. Time to go backstage. Thus ends Dexcom coverage.

Zzt-zzt-zzt-zzt! LOW UNDER 55. This moment = Bubs presence required stage left. Because time for sing & dance of course. Mouth from seat in remote-enough for not embarrass auditorium section Do you feel low? Bubs mouth back I’m fine. Bigfoot not very worried, everything so new. Nothing bad ever happen stage performance entire family history. Like baby crawl into cute/wild hyena cage. All new. Curious.

photo-38-1

There he goes. He was already doing his Cool Boys snaps. I’M FINE.

Dang. Stage left out of range Dexcom. Bigfoot turn on screen every few seconds anyway. Nothing. Maybe tiny bit more fear than hyena-cage baby.

At last see Bubs. Song & dance Cool Boys song. Not seem low. Seem OK dancer, no tipsy/sweaty/annoyed. After West Side Story + Bye, Bye Birdie songs, 6:30PM VerioIQ 299. That can’t be right. Your fingers must be Glucolifty. Wash hands 349. Hmm? Correction 2.25u (ISF 1:80; with idea drop 180 points, please.)

Wish could have seen dramatic climb via Dexcom! Sure would make fantastic hidden picture.

The incredibly good looking dancer who's taller than the rest is B's teacher. You can't make this kind of person up.

The incredibly good looking dancer who’s taller than the rest is B’s teacher. You can’t make this kind of person up.

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05May / 2013

Low People Problems: Efficacy of Rogaine at the Tricentennial

Hypoglycemia = long, strange trips in conversation. Take long time Bigfoot realize why fall into cuckoo rabbit hole @bedtime this weekend:

BUBS: Do you think I’ll live to see the tricentennial?

BIGFOOT: Hmm. How old will you be?

BUBS: I don’t know

BFOOT: Well, that will be in 2076—oh, yeah. You’ll be alive. You’ll only be 73!

BUBS: What about you?

BF: I’d be 105. So probably not. I hope not. I don’t think I’d like to live that long

B: Mama, is baldness (covers mouth with duvet)…genetic?

BF: I think for the most part it is. Yes

B: Do you think I’ll be bald?

BF: No. They say you’ll have the same kind of hair or baldness as your mom’s dad. So you’ll be like Grandpa Bob. Not bald at all

B: Do you think I’ll have to have chemotherapy and get bald from that?

BF: Nooo…?

B: Because I already have a disease, so I probably can’t get cancer, right?

BF: Well, anyone can get cancer, but I don’t think you’ll get cancer. That seems extremely unlikely

B: Do you think Rogaine works on bald men?

BF: No, not really.

B: Do you think Rogaine will work on bald men in time for the tricentennial?

BF: I guess it might. Maybe. There’s already something people can put on their eyelids to help their eyelashes grow, so maybe they will invent a version of that for the whole head

B: Well if I get bald, and Rogaine doens’t work yet, could I have surgery to help me grow hair?

BF: There is a surgery some bald men get, but it usually looks kind of weird. And if you were bald from chemotherapy, you probably couldn’t have hair surgery right away, and remember that electrician? He had the surgery to put hair on bald spots, and it looked really bad

B: I really don’t want to be bald for the tricentenial

BF: I think when you’re in your 70′s, you’ll have very nice hair and—

DEX: Zzzzt! Zzzzt! Zzzzt! Zzzzt!

B: It says I’m 46, with the arrow going diagonally down

BF: Ohhhkay

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02Jun / 2012

Numbers + Ping Pong cookies

Put question at top in case can’t slog all way through: Anyone there know list for FFL attendee blogs? Bigfoot wish get to know some characters in advance. Only know Neurotic City, Six Until Me, Moments of Wonderful. More?

 

ANSWER: join the fb page!

***

Think juice is for babies? Too tired to chew?

Not so good diabetes control when Bigfoot start and end day spooning frozen lemonade Bubs’s mouth. In bed. Guess new basal rate high enough. High enough+. On pos. side, Minute Maid frozen lemonade= perfect for treat lows for child too tired chew + dislike juice.

Last night heaven. Asleep face down on top of duvet, fully dressed 8:15PM. Awake 8:30 IN MORNING (under duvet + in nightie!). Bigfoot ask for time (it 8:30AM!) leap from bed, so eager look in mirror. Minor disappoint. Still eye bags. That OK.

For the record, I married a much older man.

Thursday evening throw Bigfoot Spouse low-effort Birthday Ping Pong Party with Beer and After School Snacks. Subtext that invitation: we like you and want to see you and we want to play ping pong, but please keep your expectations extremely low for the food. Famous cookie baker arrive w. huge platter ping pong paddle/ball cookies; physics teacher arrive w. charcuterie; librarian 1 arrive w. fancy cheeses/crackers, gourmet pizzas, record albums; librarian 2 arrive w. blueberry lemon cake; other persons bring nice food/Bigfoot too self-absorb notice or thank; Bigfoot place store-bought Chex Mix in bowl. Regardless low effort, so tiring. Next day can barely stand up, barely think straight for describe Baccarat crystal champagne flutes. (Best sentence of day: Made in France.)

After eye bag check, review #s. Bedtime 121. 12AM 132. 1AM 117. 8AM 122. Not believe such numbers possible! Maybe everything perfect now forever.

Today Bubs invited visit West Bay Bubs. Most anxiety for Bigfoot is what if parent feel must entertain Bigfoot because Bubs want Bigfoot stay even though West Bay Bubs’s parents physicians with diabetic child + tony address + know what’s what but really barely know them, so can you stay?

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11May / 2012

Awake w. Mitt + Bobby

Hijinks!

10PM Bubs 89. Bigfoot decide stay up read about Mitt Romney boarding school hijinks/sadism until 1AM to make sure not go too low. This not political. Mean low blood sugar. Low twice at school. Medium-worried for low while asleep.

1AM : 339. Wash finger. Check again: 332.

Correction bolus 1.45u. Now need stay awake, make sure bolus a) work and b) not work too much. Next assignment, 2:30AM. If 100—need worry too low. If 200—need worry correction too small. If 300—need give additional correction, stay awake worry correction not work/work too much. Bigfoot not able determine number allow sleep. Maybe 150 OK.

Happy, yet worried. Also sad.

Earlier, for special times, Bigfoot take Jack Bobby McFerrin concert. Reader realize Bobby McFerrin not sing Don’t Worry, Be Happy since 1988, now perform jazz standards? Life full surprises when not well-informed, attend random free shows. Whole special Jack times, Bigfoot think about friend throw self from Tobin Bridge. This so sad, and so infuriate. Really, it none of Bigfoot business. Memorial service tomorrow, hope not say stupid things mourning children. Unfortunately ever since receive free Bobby McFerrin tickets, develop bad habit absently whistle DWBH, least appropriate theme song for anyone this paragraph.

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27Apr / 2012

Hobby Times w/ Granola

With the right eye makeup, the resemblance is amazing!

Small Puritan gentleman inside Bigfoot head command productivity during insomnia times. Bigfoot not able concentrate write copy for fancy camera 3:47AM. That why develop several (so so quiet, not disturb family) hobby:

  • Jennifer Lawrence Eyeliner Application 101
  • Goji granola baking
  • North Korea independent study (after this book, this book)
  • Sort out idea for discuss Coro Center personnel re wretched blood sugar anti-pattern:

It has been three days since we last adjusted Bubs’s basal rates and bolus ratios. Since then, his numbers have not improved. He is still going high overnight. After correction, he remains high for hours, then goes too low. Yesterday was typical:

4PM: 73. 45g snack. 2.55u

7PM: 375. 58g. 3.85u + 2.55u correction

8:30PM: 308. (3.5u IOB=no correction)

12AM: 59. 15g

12:20AM: 161

3AM: 57. 15g

3:30AM: 100

4AM: 128

5AM: 116 OK.

Sketchy hypothesis: not enough insulin with food + ISF of 1:100 should be 1:75?

On bright side, granola** smell amazing. Sleepy Bigfoot heavy hand pour maple syrup.

**Granola formula: 6c rolled oats + 8 oz. sliced almonds + 8 oz. micro-shredded coconut + 1 tsp. salt (combine on jellyroll pan.) Oven 325. Melt together: 6T coconut oil, 3/4c maple syrup, 1 tsp. vanilla. Drizzle this  over oats on jellyroll pan, massage around to combine evenly. Bake 15 minutes, stir. Bake 15 minutes, stir. Bake 15 minutes, stir. Etc. until all toasty golden brown. When store opens, buy Goji berries and throw in. One million carbs per serving.

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14Mar / 2012

Birthday

March 13th dinner at Sushi Express: I tried to give out Lego minifigures for dessert instead of birthday cake. Not recommended.

Bubs nine now. Happy Lego. Sushi Express dinner. Avocado maki. Miso soup. Green tea ice cream tempura, “9″ candle, Chinese Sushi Express owner sing happy birthday song. Happy.

Today Wednesday; no school. Bubs attend huge birthday party brother/sister twin friends. Bigfoot sit in sunshine, deck, host and hostess so nice, bring water/pizza/chocolate pretzel/plenty cheez doodle. Bigfoot work little bit. Mostly worry. Carb(how much?)-injection(guess)-running around(low?)-cake (high?)-2nd injection(mistake?)

Never mind a functioning pancreas, you get a CREEL!

When this get better? Know from read, answer is never. Never get better. Always hard. Sick of. Sick of hear self complain. That why seek always better diabetes app, better wicker creel, better breakfast, better better better. Never better.

BC=Before Cheeto, Before Cake

Bigfoot know many nice person, cut Bigfoot lot of slack. Today so sunny. Perfect day for party. Host, hostess make Bigfoot feel at home, not dork with medical supply hovering in creepy fashion. Before diabetes, Bigfoot probably characterize adult stay at party with needle bag Big Creepy Helicopter Loser. Bigfoot lucky most people not mean like Bigfoot.

I had a mouth full of Cheetos while telling Bubs he had to wait to eat Cheetos.

Tomorrow Bubs’s last normal day for while. Friday skip school for Coro Center/Animas pump lesson #1. Shudder. Bigfoot learn insert tiny tube under skin. Hope not barf. Know pump good. Trust pump improve health, improve life. Know lucky insurance provide pump. But dread learn how use. Not even use remote control Bose radio–climb up kitchen stool, reach top refrigerator, use regular on/off button instead.

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09Mar / 2012

Not Go

Still from the 4-minute Turkish animated film Don't Go.

Bigfoot attend school lunch. Morning Bubs say, I would like to eat with you, even if you don’t have time to go to Five Guys. I just like spending time with you. Very nice! Of course Bigfoot comply. Not able bring special delivery—only apple, little knife, cutting board. Sit with Bubs + bubbly Chinese classmate, literally bounce peanut butter sandwich on table between bite. Conversation around custom Lego minifigure. Fun. Not relevant friend Chinese, Bigfoot kind of provincial.

After lunch, visit Dream Nurse. 50 carbs. Dream Nurse have Bubs calculate dose, Bigfoot experience vague sensation persons gathering outside doorway during injection. It true. Tiny boy in sun yellow wheelchair there, aide beside. Vomit cover lap, Dream Nurse so compose, tell Bigfoot I guess we should make a plan for you to show me the pump next week, but I need to deal with this situation now. Tiny boy face same expression Bubs face: know something wrong, but not worry. Know adult handle it OK.

Little they know, adult so messed up: bury face in dog neck, call dog my little Irish gentleman!/ make repeated smooch noise; give insulin correction (300+ at dinner)/cause tank in night (55), force awake sing Yaz “Don’t Go,” (inspire by PCFF film class film)–try force drink orange juice/eat candy corn, then force brush teeth–let sleep fifteen minute, test again (64), make up let’s see if it goes up more in ten minutes instead of wake up/force eat (85), decide ten more minutes? Sure; research slack lines/poplin shirt/LL Bean Signature/feel bad about eat too much mini eggs at Arts Night; did ten minutes go by yet?/I don’t know/Check the meter!/three minutes/Is it time yet?(73)/Should I give him more candy? Seven? Seven candy corn? They’re only two each? Hear spouse say, “Sweet pea? I have to wake you up now. You have to eat more candy.” Hear Bubs cry in sleep, then, “It’s only five days until my birthday!”

Bigfoot have second thoughts $20,000 hypoglycemia dog. Even dog make mistake—New Yorker article re face transplant mention drunk woman wake up, find golden retriever ate lips/nose while passed out. Bigfoot not sure what dog think, but sure dog good intention while eat owner face. Hypoglycemia dog maybe just one more being Bigfoot second guess, get in line behind self, spouse, endocrinologist, Animas representative, cousin-in-law push fish oil, Drs. Weil/Oz, Sam Talbot (egg white blueberry thing), et al.

For good news: chocolate So Delicious coconut milk now in little lunch box size: 9g carbs.

For shocking news: one month supply test strips: $435.

11:15PM blood sugar 107. Formulate plan: let’s check again after some Daily Shows and as long as it’s not going back down, let’s say we’re in the clear/Okay?/Okay/Yeah. I just want to to be over/Yeah.

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06Mar / 2012

80, 90, 77, 112…

Keep your feet on the ground and your smiley faces fairly understated.

Bedtime 62. Bigfoot spouse administer. Bigfoot hear Bubs call, “Mahhhh-ahhhm. I’m 62.” Bigfoot folding laundry, call to spouse he’s sixty-two? Spouse call back, Yeah, I’ve got it.

That make sense. 62 low. Glucose tabs in medicine bag. Bigfoot return fold laundry. Bring stack towels upstairs for put away.

Meanwhile, spouse downstairs, Bubs’s bedroom light still on. Why is your light still on? Is everything OK? Daddy’s making me peanut butter crackers. Did he give you glucose tabs? No. Holy ass balls! (that in head only.) He didn’t? What’s up with that? I’ll get them for you. You’re sixty-two, right? Yeahp. (Bigfoot insert glucose Bubs’s mouth. 3x. Raspberry flavor. Jello smell.)

BFOOT SPOUSE: What’s up? (Normal mellow voice)

BFOOT: He’s at 62 and you didn’t treat him?

BFOOT SPOUSE: (Still mellow) I wanted to get rid of my sharps

BFOOT: He’s 62! He’s low!

BFOOT SPOUSE: Yeah, so I wanted to get him some peanut butter crackers

BFOOT: No you don’t! You don’t want peanut butter crackers. What is wrong with you? You don’t give peanut butter for a low! You give GLOOOOO-KOOHSE (really sarcastic like that)

BFOOT SPOUSE: I’m sorry. You’re right. But I needed to refill the glucose tab tube

BFOOT: (Improvise something bitchy yet expletive-free)Your child is LOW. He needs glucose. It is RIGHT HERE. You do not need to REFILL anything before you GIVE HIM GLUCOSE. You do not need to get RID of your SHARPS. You GIVE HIM THE GLUCOSE then you can REFILL THE TUBE and get rid of the sharps. Will you check him again in 15 minutes?

BFOOT SPOUSE: Yes. (Twinkle of recognition comes over face that wife is batshit.)

Bigfoot return downstairs. Kitchen. Set out brioche, small cutting board–this remind older son pack lunch in morning. Leave note, not want spouse put roll away when clean up dinner stuff. Try make smiley face at end of note for “See, I’m not so bad” sentiment. This straight mouth smiley face result. If look into dessicated fuchsia Sharpie eyes, see expression of fear/camaraderie/love.

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02Mar / 2012

Seizure-y

What lengths will you go to for an extra one of these?

Bubs’s Lantus dose 9u now. 7u before. Coro Center nurse advise test 2AM one or two times, make sure not go too low in night. Tell Bigfoot not need worry, Bubs “is just a normal, growing boy with diabetes.”

As imagine, Bigfoot not 100% keen on 2AM finger prick. Therefore agree camp out by fire, try make mild homestyle adventure. Bubs in sleeping bag, Bigfoot on sofa. Two new New Yorker magazine arrive while Bigfoot in Bahamas, eager read article with Darwin/altruism/vampire bat regurgitate blood into mouth of starving fellow vampire bat.

Settle in by fire. Bigfoot have magazine open, sheepskin spread over sofa, big duvet all to self. Alarm set 2AM. Bubs in sleeping bag, rosy cheeks, hair damp from shower.

BUBS: I feel like I can’t fall asleep

BFOOT: Maybe you’re too hot

BUBS: Yeah

BFOOT: Let’s skooch you away from the fire

BUBS: OK (sets sleeping bag and pillow up a few feet further away from the fire)

BFOOT: (goes back to reading vampire bat article)

BUBS: Or maybe I can’t fall asleep because I just feel so low

BFOOT: You do? (Hops up to get finger pricker. Bubs handles the pricker and runs the test)

BUBS: 39

BFOOT: Thirty-nine? Really? (Runs into kitchen to get candy corn)

BUBS: I’m sorry

BFOOT: It’s not your fault! Are you eating those?

BUBS: It is my fault. I should have told you sooner

BFOOT: Did you eat all seven?

BUBS: Yeah

BFOOT: Did you feel low and not say something?

BUBS: No

BFOOT: It’s not your fault! Honey, you know it’s not your fault at all

BUBS: My legs feel weird. They feel all…seizure-y

BFOOT: They do? (Starts rubbing his legs)

BUBS: Yeah, it’s like I can control them and make them stay still but it’s really really hard to

Sam Fuld is not Sam Talbot

Now at 99. Bigfoot pause. Think. What different? Switch cow milk for sugarfree coconut milk, unsweet almond milk. Also Girl Scout cookies arrive. Also, swim YMCA minnow no guppy (rigorous.) But what if LANTUS whopper dose the problem—low come back again, again, again? Really need hypoglycemia awareness dog. Ask spouse check again: 137.

Sam Talbot eats sauteed broccoli rabe for a snack

Meanwhile, for happy thing, Sam Talbot cookbook arrive. Bigfoot recommend. Sam Talbot so handsome, so healthy, Type 1 since age 12, professional chef, surfer, book of recipe also have practical advice for how carry syringe in pocket, how organize supplies in home, how bring all need in waterproof box for surf. Still huge hassle but gorgeous book make feel better this topic. Wee bit. Bigfoot family decide make pilgrimage Montauk, find Sam Talbot restaurant. Book feature photo Sam Talbot test blood sugar–same blue meter as Bubs, but Sam Talbot meter all scratched up (sandy lifestyle).

Lemon ricotta pancake. Sam Talbot say eat only one time in year because splurge. Sam Talbot limit carbs under 90/day (20-30/meal.) Bigfoot so far away this goal.

One Samoa cookie: 10g carbs. Seems like should be more.

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24Feb / 2012

Rich + healthy: good

Have fun. And don't forget to tape Skittles to your butt!

Away from diabetes, everything so simple. This trip offer added layer simplicity: everything free, have as many $300 dinner/ $17 Diet Cokes* as desire, sign name and room number, done. Plan ahead when eat not matter. Carb count not matter. Price not matter too! Musical selection (Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Billy Ocean, Sade) not matter. Bigfoot mistake Billy Ocean Suddenly Lionel Richie Hello–not matter, no ashamed error. Enjoy all. Not feel guilty, only calm.

Bigfoot realize this hollow, maybe tired of ease by tomorrow, become homesick. For now so nice experience life as wealthy, disease-free socialite. Today, yesterday, day before, day before that, barely think of family.

That not true. Think of family, but never how feel right now, left behind, no lady in house. Only think they would love it here! They would go on all of these water slides and hide in the underground aquaria (Bigfoot really choose that plural) and they’d make friends with these other kids and then run from pool to pool to swim some more and <—fantasy stop; think impossible keep track blood sugar/hypoglycemia all-day swim, impossible let Bubs have fun while maintain awareness location, parent ride adjacent inner tube Lazy River? Attach water-resistant emergency Skittles Bubs–duck tape Ziploc bag on buttock? Sand get in pump site? Change to syringe/pen when go on beach trip? It OK switch back and forth? Pfft. So complicated. Much better stay home, eat rice cakes peanut butter/banana, swim one hour YMCA, for thrill buy Lego.

Bigfoot Skype spouse this is so relaxing. You have to go on a vacation by yourself. I have never been this relaxed. You would not believe how calm I am. Bigfoot spouse not comprehend, tell story of Jack purchase hideous Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup theme t-shirt. Next day Bigfoot spouse revisit idea, email I was thinking about what you said about going on a vacation by myself…do you think I might see if Kim could come over for an hour while I go out on my bike? <—By share this, Bigfoot mean illustrate paltry expectation “me time.”

Surreptitious check out every bare belly Atlantis beach. Thousand abdomen, maybe more. Find zero insulin pump. Skinny brothers running in ocean, race to family chaise, munch out on Bugles, one brother have blip on abdomen, heart soar: this fellow enjoy beach-time fun. Detach insulin pump while swim! Quick break for intoxicating junk snack! Sunshine. But nah. It just a minimally disfiguring birthmark.

*Not accurate. Diet Coke (can) $4. $300 dinner serve 3 famished adult.

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