The Two-Story Diabetic

When we chose our house I was thrilled to get one on a cul-de-sac so the kids could run around without having to call off their game of football with a resounding, "CAR!!". The panoramic ocean view from both kids' rooms was a great selling point as was the community pool and jacuzzi to finally teach the kids to swim. The one thing I overlooked was the fact that a diabetic should never live in a two-story house.

When 2 a.m. calls and my blood sugars have plummeted to 38, pausing for a moment just before falling off the cliff that some do not come back from, and I have to locate some sugar in the house, I spring from my bed in a panic and begin the sprint to the kitchen before my eyes are even open.My brain is still asleep and my body has been robbed of the sugar it needs for my muscles to move in any sort of coordinated way. While it's still dark and the stairs seem to be swaying in the wind, I attempt to hobble down those stairs without spraining my knee or falling flat on my face.

Most of the time I make it to the kitchen and force the chocolate milk sludge into my gullet, but I have certainly had some close calls. I have learned to count the seven stairs until the landing halfway down and the other seven to the bottom just so I don't step where there is no step, or forget to step when there is one.

When I finally make my way upstairs later that night with hardly the energy to climb those stairs, I often realize I have left my blood glucose testing kit downstairs on the coffee table. So I have to extricate myself from those warm covers I have just settled myself under to wander back down the stairs.

I climb seven and seven back up and get settled again under the covers to test my sugars before turning in for the night. Hoping to make the correct adjustments to avoid yet another nighttime low, I find that I am still low and am 10 feet too high to reach the fridge from my bed. So back down I go, pounding some choco-sludge and the back up seven and then seven more.

By the time I am upstairs again, Tony is still sound asleep. I shut off the light and hope for a low-less night avoiding a season-ending, blown ACL from only counting to six before turning.

So my advice to the diabetic world out there, go for a single story, maybe a ranch style or a sprawling mansion, but whatever the land-use gurus are promoting and the highly paid real estate agent is pushing, avoid the two story, and by all means, run screaming from a tri-level home. Believe me your knees will thank you for it.

Diabetes by the Numbers

252 - Last blood sugar reading 684 - Highest blood sugar on record- although it may be a bit inaccurate since the new meters don't go higher than 599 28 - Lowest blood sugar on record- They say you're supposed to pass out at 30 102 - Favorite blood sugar- high enough not to worry about lows and not the "perfect 100" that everyone else strives for 15 - Pounds dropped at diagnosis 19 - pounds gained after starting insulin 8.3 - Last A1C blood test 5-6.9 - "good" A1C range 7.0 A1C I want 5.5- A1C that I would "shit bricks" over 9+ - A1C that makes me cry 36 - Number of A1C test results I have had to endure 8 - Mini boxes of candy I had last night on Halloween 10 - how much I hate Halloween on a scale of 1 to 10 because of the constant temptation of packages of candy just small enough not to register on the "to avoid" list

1,460 - Number of shots I took before giving up the shots and getting an insulin pump, never to look back 42,340 - Number of times I have sliced a tiny hole in my finger to extract enough blood to give to the machine who will grade my diabetic efforts for the last few hours and give me a result that will either make me smile or make me curse, but either way will better inform me of my enemies tactics and how I can outsmart him. 2,867 - Number of curse words spilled from my mouth in reaction to diabetes 1 - Number of entire boxes of Rice Krispies almost poured over my head in a state of low blood sugar 528 - Number of crying spells brought on by my enemy 2 - Number of E.R. visits due to freakishly high blood sugars 1 - Number of official D.K.A.'s because a box of recalled pump infusion sites got out to me and happened to get used at the same time I was battling the flu (and yes I am pulling out every reason in the world that this one was NOT MY FAULT) 2 - Number of crazy docs who thought they knew more about my body than I did and set me up to do or believe down right stupid things like I would never be able to walk barefoot or that to have 7 different basal rates on a pump is "not necessary" 3- Number of amazing docs who know I live with my body and my enemy daily and who work with me to sharpen my battle plan, who give advice on new research, new tests or new technologies to fight the bastard 14 - years I've had diabetes 12 - years I spent trying to battle diabetes on my own 1,000's friends I feel like I have through Insulindependence.org who help lend support and comfort as we fight together 20ish- the actual number of friends I have made through Insulindependence, though their support makes it feel like more 764 - the Number of times I've said to myself, "Now why didn't I join Insulindependence sooner?" and replied to myself, "Oh, Yes, That's right, they've only been around since 2005!" 864,357- people I wish I could tell to become a part of Insulindependence- It will change the way you attack the enemy 62 - boxes of pump supplies, glucose monitor supplies, sensors, tapes, I.V. Prep, glucose monitor strips and other assorted supplies in my closet/pharmacy 42,120- used blood glucose monitor strips I've sent to the landfill 24 strips currently in various crevices in my car 56 strips currently in my wallet/monitor case 138 strips in the trashcan in the bathroom 2 strips in my running bag 33,476 words written in my slightly humorous (but only to the warped minds of the world) memoir on life with diabetes and sailing solo through the keys 16,534 words to write by November 30 to be a winner in the NaNoWriMo or the National Novel Writing Month 551.13 words per day to write to meet that goal 665 words written so far today, oh wait make that 674. 16 Times I've said since I committed to NaNoWriMo last night, "Oh Crap! How am I ever going to be able to pul this off?" 14 sailing books I own and have read- most of which end in hideous disaster and ruin 3 boats I own, though the largest of the fleet is 15 inches long and attached to a stand so it doesn't tip over on my desk 12 - number of feet of the boat I will build this Spring Break 2- number of children who will help me build it 22- feet of the boat graciously donated for me to use for my trip this February by the Key Lime Sailing Club, my favorite sailing club in the world 4- days I will spend sailing alone int he Florida Keys 100- nautical miles I will cover from Key Largo to Key West 480- GPS waypoints beamed to the satellites and then back to mapmytracks.com where anyone can follow along as I sail 168- messages sent to the social networking sites to update everyone of everything I am doing, seeing, hearing, smelling and eating along the way 7500- dollars that I am trying to raise to benefit the oceanic recreation branch of Insulindependence.org 765- dollars I have already raised (thank you, by the way, to all those amazing people who have helped out in this) 105- days left to raise the additional $6735 64.14 -dollars to raise each and every day until I sail 872- times I have said "Oh Crap! How am I ever going to be able to pul this off?" 4696 miles to fly 63 miles to drive 5 sunsets to watch 3 manatees to talk with 82,354 skeeters to avoid 459 pictures to take 152 minutes of HD video to take so I can edit it down to the 3 minutes I am not looking like a total dork 6840 minutes I will be truly enjoying myself as I seek to take some time away from my everyday life to reflect on what diabetes has done to my life and what the fight against letting it take over has done for my character and my life 40,000 words I will have left to write to finish the memoir expressing those new revelations I am sure to have while spending 6840 minutes alone on a boat in the middle of the sea (well, ok, maybe not the middle of the sea, but far enough away from land that it will feel like the middle of the sea) 17 minutes I have just forced you to read far too many numbers 63 useless numbers that have now been stored somewhere in your brain taking up valuable space that could have been used to remember your telephone number when you move into the retirement home when you are 89 1 person you have now far too many unrelated details about that may come together to form a slightly clearer picture of (sorry Mrs. Fullenwider for ending that one with a preposition)

The Best Laid Plans

I had set out to write tonight, got dressed, got my butt into my writing studio. I realized how often b.s. stands in the way. Right at 7 when I sit to write, my blood sugar dips to 62 and takes with it any capacity to think clearly. so, I sit here, pecking away at the keys with one hand, the other holding up my sagging head, fully aware of the dullness and myriad (yeah, I know it's overused) of typos and punctuation crap. but, whatever, i guess i'll edit later. i have vowed to write weekly, so here is the crap that flows when i am low. now i will lower my sagging head to the cold desk at sit back as i watch my swirling mind slowly be fed more and more sugar and hope that the endless lows choose not to kill the parts of my brain that i need and use, maybe theyll destroy my worry center or my hyper critical part, or maybe the part that loves any sort of goodie late at night. guess we'll find out soon enough. (push "post"" without a second look) -