Can we say busy?

Okay so today ws not such a good second day for NaBloPoMo. I came to work this morning and found that my assignment was in one of my favorite rooms. The twin room is oh, so quiet, oh, so calm and really lends itself to a relaxing day at work with the babies. Which, in turn, should hve lent itself nicely to me havig pleny of time to write my daily blog post.

Today? Not so much. No one told my babies that Halloween is over. Because I had little twin girls "trick-or-treating" me all day long with the alarms, the dings, the xrays, the ultrasounds, the tubes, the wires, ventilators facing the wrong direction, monitors out of reach . . . this room, this assigment, and these poor little girls were a hot mess.

And now, near the end of my shift, so am I. Not to mention I am currently typing on a mobile laptop station that is uber-ghetto and is currently missing 3 keys with several more on the fritz. So please forgive the spelling errors. And the lack of an actual interesting post.

But hey! I posted!! Go me!

Until tomorrow,
~Layne

NaBloPoMo

So it's November and that means NaBloPoMo is officially here. I actually think I'm going to give it a shot. (No pun intended from the diabetes blogger over here.)

For those of you who don't know, NaBloPoMo stands for National Blog Posting Month and it is a way for wary and/or wayward bloggers (such as myself) to jump back into blogging by committing to posting daily for the entire month of November. No weekends off, no holidays off. At least one post, every day.

I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that I've only freakin' had 18 posts so far this year! So how in the world can I commit to 30 posts in 30 days? All true. But I'm going to do my best and hpoefully this will help to instill blogging as a new habbit of mine, so that my absences won't be so long and, uh, so frequent.

It also means I'll probably be blogging about anything and everything just to get material in. But take into consideration what November holds in store: I'm about to go on my second job interview in as many weeks, I should hear back about potential job offer(s!) within 2-3 weeks, my first Thanksgiving as "the hostess" and decorating our new house for the holidays for the first time!! All very exciting, busy and even somewhat life-changing stuff. Come to think of it, how am I going to fit in time to blog? Oh well, it should be interesting, so stay tuned!

~Layne

Pack your bags . . .

. . cause you're going on a guilt-trip. Read on. . .

Nick has had Type 1 diabetes for as long as he can remember. Now, as the holiday season approaches, this little six-year-old is hoping he'll get the one gift he's always wanted: a future free of diabetes.

"I keep tossing pennies into wishing wells and my wish is always a for a cure," says Nick.

At a time of year when most boys Nick's age are dreaming of puppies and baseball mitts and race cars, this little boy is dreaming of a cure.

This is the start of a letter I received recently from the JDRF. And every letter is like this one. In fact this one is disappointingly tame and not as tear-jerker-ish as they usually are. These things are so over the top, so transparent it's sickening. They drive me crazy!

Maybe that stuff works on other people. Maybe this is the way of every charity devoted to helping children in some fashion, whether they are "suffering" with diabetes or starving in Africa. But as someone actually living with diabetes. . . as someone who, 15 years ago, could have been the kid in the letter, it just gets to me. I can't feel sorry for these kids and I won't. I never expected anyone to feel sorry for me and if they tried I promptly assured them that I didn't need their pity. I'm not saying I was a completely well-adjusted kid with Type 1 DM but I was also a firecracker and fiercely independent. I never liked anyone thinking I was anything other than completely with-it and capable. And . . .

(Fair warning: What I'm about to say may make me a huge jack ass in some people's eyes but, oh well.)

I think the JDRF really dropped the ball with this type of advertising and fundraising strategy. Because GUESS WHAT?!? I have juvenile diabetes. And you know what else? I'm not a kid. Does that mean I'm not worth a cure? I've been living with this crap for almost 20 years, I grew up with it and I dealt with it as a kid but I grew up. Thank God. I hope every kid with diabetes gets the chance to grow up. But what happens when they do? Are we going to slap them on the back and say "congrats!" for outgrowing your childhood despite the rigors of diabetes. Oh and, by the way, no one cares about you anymore. You aren't cute and freckle-y and pre-pubescent so you aren't worth a cure. You know what? Screw you!

And that's how these stupid letters make me feel. Like the only people with diabetes who matter, who deserve a cure are the kids. Well most of us started out as kids and, here's an update: we didn't outgrow this disease. And for those with diabetes who got it in college or in adulthood, that's a whole different kinda hard. And, most days, I'm glad I didn't have to go through that particular battle. Puberty and diabetes? Yeah, that's a rough combo. But living your whole life like nothing's wrong and having a career and a family and then, Oops? Everything changes! How you eat. How you think. Every day for the rest of your life. Yeah, that definitely sucks too. At least I don't remember much of my transition from pre-diabetes to post-diabetes.

Bottom line? JDRF, please stop laying it on so thick. I will definitely keep donating and I will "walk for a cure" and do anything I can to help find a cure, because I do need a cure. But I surely don't need a guilt-trip. And to anyone else out there who thinks diabetes is just a little kid disease: Open your eyes and you'll see a whole lotta adults, even "young adults", who are already veterans of this disease. And we all need, and deserve, a cure.

Stepping off my soapbox now,
~Layne

PS: We played an awesome game today and smoked Georgia!! Go Gators!! And Happy Halloween!! Bring on the trick-or-treaters!!

Blast from the past

Okay, so a couple months ago Kerri over at Six Until Me has had a few posts where she dug up some of her old school diabetes equipment and what-have-you and reminisced about the "good old days" back in ancient diabetes times. Well, she and I started out on this diabetes road at sort of different parts of the overall timeline, so we don't exactly have the same memories of this stuff. She was diagnosed in 1986 (I think) and I was diagnosed in 1991. I know this doesn't seem too far apart but many of her memories didn't really reverb with me. For example, she remembers a time when you didn't use a meter to read your blood sugar, you just compared your strip to a color chart on the vial. I vaguely remember these types of strips being an option but by the time I was diagnosed, blood sugar meters were pretty common and that was what I was started on right away. And, unfortunately, there was no such thing as cutting the strips to make them last longer. :-) But it was funny trying to dig back in the cobwebs of my brain and remember this stuff.

Anyway, these posts have had me daydreaming about all my old diabetes acoutremonts and scrambling to find evidence of all my past relics on the web. It took a while because I couldn't for the life of me remember the old meter names. I knew I had an AccuChek as my first meter but do you know how many reincarnations of that thing there have been? Holy crap! Who can remember the exact model? But recently? SUCCESS!! I found a few pics of my old meters here. (And, btw, it was the AccuChek Easy.) So, for your enjoyment:

So even though by that time we, as diabetics, had advanced from peeing on sticks and/or comparing crusty old blood to color charts, this is not to say that these machines were very sophisticated by today's standards. No sirree. They needed lots of blood (which got all over the machine . . . or maybe I was just messy, who knows) and it seemed like it took forever to get a reading. It didn't have a countdown clock, so I couldn't tell you exactly how long it did take, but it felt like years.

And who knew how much I'd appreciate capillary action when I was learning about it in the 7th grade but DANG! Those old strips really sucked. You had to aim for that stupid little square and good luck with that when you only have the coordination of a 9-year-old and are low and shaky to boot. And there were times when you'd look at the back of the strip (the part the meter actually read) to see how much more blood you needed and none of it had passed through! It sure looked mostly full on the other side?!? WTF?

This was my next meter, the One Touch Profile. I loved this thing and thought it was the shiznit. Only 45 seconds until I get my result?? Plus a countdown clock, plus an easy circle to aim for that is nestled snugly in the meter before I apply so I don't have to mess with it and get all smear-y. And it looked so modern and cool too! Looking back, holy smokes, those strips were huge! But as a whole it was definitely a step in the right direction.I've had so many meters over the years. Any time I'd get a free offer, I'd try a new one. Why not? They always came with a few free strips so no biggy. But the next meter that I really liked, that really stuck was the One Touch Ultra. I fell in love with the strips that magically (see: capillary action) sucked in the blood and how tiny this meter was. I never needed the extra blips and buttons and I ignored newer, shinier models that cropped up as time went by. I kept this thing for years. I will say this: Yes, this meter takes a tiny amount of blood. But who can just get that tiny amount. Again, maybe I'm a big doof or maybe my calluses are the problem but I get these big ole' drops of blood and then what do I do with them?? Hmm, question for another day.
This is my current meter, the Freestyle Lite. And honestly, I love it. So many of the little problems I've had with meters over the years have been solved. First, no coding. Awesome, brilliant, why couldn't we do this sooner? Sheesh! Second, a light-up strip for testing in the dark. Again, brilliant!! Do you know how many times we've been in a movie and I made my husband whip out his cell phone and aim it at the meter in my lap?? If only we could do glow-in-the-dark syringes we'd be set!! Another small thing that I love is that if you insert the strip before the little drop of blood starts flickering on the screen, no biggey. . . just go ahead an test. Any other meter I had would give you an error message and make you start all over. I'm impatient and I do this a lot so this little thing gives me great pleasure! :-)
My only con for this meter is that the little dots on the strip where you load the blood are a little awkward. Unlike the other strips I've used, there is no landing strip where you can neatly see the blood fill up until you have enough and the positioning is awkward. But I guess no meter's perfect.

I don't know why this turned into tales from my meters past when it was really just supposed to be a couple of pics of ancient meters I'd used. Oh well. It is amazing when you think about how far diabetes technology has come in the last 15 to 20 years. Anyone else with me on these old meters? I know some of you folks had to have used one of these dinosaurs, I can't be the only one!! Please share!

Hasta la pasta,
~Layne

Semi-required Disclaimer: I am not, repeat NOT, getting paid by anyone to endorse these meters or anything diabetes related. Please do not get your panties in a wad because I discussed pros and cons of stuff that I actually use in real like in a public forum. But to anyone listening: free test strips would be welcome and appreciated! :-)

Bad day

So a couple weeks back I did something really stupid. I went to work . . . and left my insulin at home. Yeah, I told you it was stupid. Problem is I don't work in a normal office job where I could just take my lunch break and run home and get it. Nope. I work in a hospital where I can't exactly leave my patients and go home. The best part is that I didn't realize I had done this until after I had eaten lunch. See, I was low before lunch and feeling super shaky, so I decided to eat first and then take my insulin, just to let the food get a little head start. (In the past, when I don't do this, I sometimes feel low forever since my insulin is kicking in before or at the same time as my meal.)

So I head back to work and plan on giving myself a shot once I'm back on the floor. Problem is? No Apidra. I have my Lantus, but not my short-acting insulin, the one I take with meals. Then I remember taking it out of the bag the night before so I could take a correction bolus before bed. I could just picture it sitting on my nightstand, mocking me.

In the past I've worked at hospitals that keep insulin in their medication refrigerators. But my unit is the NICU and babies don't get the same insulin we do, so I would always just walk over to Labor/Delivery or Mother/Baby and draw up what I needed. Everyone knew that I was diabetic, I'd worked there for years . . . no harm, no foul. No such luck at this new job. Someone suggested that I talk to our resident PharmD, maybe she could hook me up with some Humalog or even Regular insulin, just to tide me over. Again, no luck. She did suggest calling the outpatient pharmacy in the hospital (the place where patients who are being discharged can fill their prescriptions before going home). I called them but Apidra is so new, they don't carry it. But they do carry Humalog! Except that to get it I would have to call my old pharmacy, transfer the script, have it filled for hefty price, yadda yadda . . . lotta hoops to jump. Dammit.

At this point, at least 10 nurses had found out what was going on and everyone was scrambling to try to help. One older nurse was even diabetic and took shots! But she used 70/30. Seriously? I don't even remember what the deal with 70/30 is anymore. But at least they were trying to help. Which, while I do appreciate it, also made me feel like the village idiot. Because this lovely incident was they way that most of them found out I had diabetes in the first place. Great impression, right? Then they'd ask how long I'd had it. "Uh, 18 years. . . " I tried to explain no matter how routine something becomes after years of doing it, mistakes are bound to happen. How often do people forget their purses? Or lock their keys in their car? Not often, but when it happens you feel like quite the dumbass.

I finally was at my wits end and decided to just beg the charge nurse to let me just run home to get my insulin. Unfortunately, the unit was particularly busy that day and one of the other nurses had already left because of an emergency with her son. So they really couldn't spare losing another of us. I put one last call into the outpatient pharmacy, just to try to hash out what they could do for me. Turns out they had transferred my prescription and they could get me ONE bottle of Humalog for $25. I was relieved I had options but really annoyed at the idea of paying $25 for one bottle of insulin that I'll never use again. Whatever, I was so over it by this point. My bloodsugar was 439, I felt like absolute shit, not to mention like an idiot and at this point I had put almost 3 hours into this stupid debacle. I was miffed. Even more so when I thought about the fact that I work in a hospital that has tons of insulin available. Just none for me.

So I told the nearby nurses I was walking over to the outpatient pharmacy. It took about 20 minutes roundtrip to go get my insulin and get back. (What can I say? It's a big campus.) At that point I was sweaty, feeling heavy and lethargic and developing and nasty sweet, metallic taste in my mouth. In other words, I was feeling like actual ass. When the person behind the register handed me the bag, I tore it open, drew up my dose and shot up before I even pulled out my wallet to pay. He looked at me like I was some nut-job druggie jonesing for a high. I smiled weakly and apologized.

So, yeah, that was my bad day. And probably what started me thinking about the things I was talking about in my previous post. I mean, who else has to actually go through crap like that? Plus it was the perfect storm of events. On a slow day where we were fully staffed it probably wouldn't have been a big deal to just run home. Annoying, but a hell of a lot less complicated then the 3-hour odyssey that actually took place.

Maybe I should have stood up for myself and just said "Look, I'm diabetic, I left my medication at home and it's an emergency. I'm going to run home and I will be back as soon as I can." I really probably should have. But, to me, it doesn't seem like an emergency. I've been high before. I've even been over 400 before and nothing terrible happens. I feel like crap, then I fix it, then it's over. Then I worry about what havoc it wreaked on my body that I may only find out about in years to come, but that's my paranoia for you. So I just feel like a drama queen trying to convince other people that anything related to my diabetes is an emergency. But after that mess, hopefully, I've learned my lesson and will just stick up for myself and not feel obligated to place my health so low on the totem pole so as not to ruffle any feathers.

Am I the only one stuff like this has happensd to? Any other stories of diabetes-related brainfarts out there? Mad scrambles for supplies? Please share, because I feel dumb.

Don't judge me,
~Layne

Suckage . . .

Recently I've realized that sometimes I just can't tell people the ugly truth, even when I really, really want to. For example, those days when everything that can go wrong does diabetes-wise (like running out of strips, highs and lows that won't quit, etc) and someone asks "How's it going?" What I really want to do is launch into a rant about how I'm a woman on the verge who really just wants to flush her meter and call it a day. And yet. . . . I can't, or anyway, I don't.

Another classic is when someone finds out for the first time that I'm diabetic and they say something like "How do you give yourself shots?! That must really suck?" I won't bother to go into how it drives me nuts when people comment on how they couldn't give themselves shots. Like I choose to do it. Like I'm the brave soul who stepped up, sacrificed myself and opted to take the diabetes so that some other schmuck who didn't like giving themselves shots could be spared from it?!?! WTF?? But I digress . . . Some days I do want to say YES!! I do hate this crap. Yes!! This does suck. And then I would lauch into a diatribe of all the stuff that drives me up a wall. It would be very cathartic, really.

But I don't. I smile and say "it's not fun but I'm used to it, blah, blah, blah." That's kinda what people expect to hear, after all. They expect a brave front from folks in general. It's kinda like the "How are you doing?" question. What does everyone say? "Fine." And if you say anything else you are usually met with polite tolerance, at best. People want simple and they want happy. They do NOT want the truth. Especially when it comes to something like diabetes, something they really don't understand to begin with. They want to hear that I'm okay, I'm brave, I'm used to it and I don't feel any different from anyone else despite my diagnosis.

But sometimes that's just not the truth. Some days it's really hard to pretend that I don't see the differences between me and everyone else. To feel bitter that those around me have an advantage. That there is life beyond and even without diabetes. There are people who don't have to worry about using their last needle and not realizing it until it's too late. They don't have to worry about getting low in the middle of work and scrambling to find a snack. They don't have to angst over whether to get that really yummy carb-laden non-virgin drink because really it's a choice between temptation versus blood-sugar hell. And then having friends ask why didn't you get that yummy drink you were drooling over? Again, I can't tell them the real answer because then I either sound like I'm making excuses or make them feel bad about asking in the first place. And mostly it just sucks on those days when it dawns on me that the vast majority of folks don't deal with the crap that I do. That my normal isn't their normal. That my normal could be better, calmer, less stressful if it weren't for my stupid pancreas being all effed up.

I'm exaggerating, of course. I don't know for sure that people would make a face, turn and run if I told them the "truth." But I'm assuming most don't really wanna hear it. Because it's hard to hear stuff like that and, honestly, would they even understand if I did go into it? I can always talk to my husband. He's really good about understanding that I have those days when it gets to me and I need to vent. But what about the times when I feel like having a diabetes-related conniption and I'm at work or out with friends. And I just feel like I can't talk about it. Not only do they just not get it but it kinda feels like whining.

I think that's the heart of it. If I say it's all okay then I'm brave and strong and whatever. But if you catch me on a bad day? Can I say no really, it sucks? I've actually had people say to me after they've seen me wince from a shot, "So you still feel those? I figured you'd just be used to it by now." Well, um, NO! I mean it's not the end of the world but occassionally those suckers hurt like hell. So allow me to utter certain choice expletives or screw up my face funny when a stinger catches me by surprise!!

I know most people figure I've had it so damn long I should just be used to it. And most days I am. But guess what? I'm human and the frustration, unfairness and the overall suckage of the situation gets to me every now and then. But I also wonder if saying so would make me sound like a complete and total baby. I feel like venting would be a sign of weakness. As a kid, I was allowed to be bummed about diabetes. But as an adult? Who's had it for 18 years? Is it kosher to still be bummed? To still have down days? Will people get it when I do and not think I'm a huge wimp who just needs to get over it? Who knows?

I'm starting to think maybe I care too much about what other people think. But on the other hand, most everyone out there wants people to understand where they are coming from. So I'm just putting that out into the universe. It's just a rant but it's also something I've been thinking about lately. Otherwise, I've been okay on the diabetes front. Had some insurance issues that were driving me bonkers but that was balanced with an A1C that I was pretty stoked about. (6.5!! YAY!!)

Over and out,
~Layne

Days since . .

Wow . . . Kerri's recent post inspired me to figure out how many days it's been since I've been diagnosed. So I was curious and I Googled and found this website and . . . just . . . well . . . holy crap!

Duration calculation results:

From and including: Wednesday, July 3, 1991
To and including: Monday, June 29, 2009

It is 6572 days from the start date to the end date, end date included

Or 17 years, 11 months, 27 days including the end date

Alternative time units

6572 days can be converted to one of these units:

• 567,820,800 seconds
• 9,463,680 minutes
• 157,728 hours
• 938 weeks (rounded down)

It's funny. I know that I've have diabetes forever. I mean, I don't really remember what it's like not to have it, not to think about food as this complicated thing, to eat without worry, to not have life disrupted with lows, highs and whatever else. But when you see those numbers . . . well, they just seem so high. It's just a different perspective. Crazy.

I don't even wanna think about how many shots I've had or how many times I've pricked my finger. Those numbers would be just insane. Let's just stop while we're talking about numbers I can actually wrap my head around, shall we? :-)

Mathematically yours,
~Layne

PS: Happy, happy birthday to my wonderful husband!! As of today he's given me 4,019 days of happiness. Cheers to the best 29-year-old husband I know!

Baby fever

So I don't really know where it came from. I've never really been in too much of a hurry in life. I have always been pretty school/career focused and if I was ever impatient, it was to be done with school and find my job-for-life. (We all know how that went.) But for the things most women scramble to do (find a boyfriend, get engaged, get married, have kids), I never felt the rush.

Brad and I were together 7 years when he proposed and 8 years when we got married. And I freely admit that 7 years is a long time to wait for a ring. But considering we started so young, it didn't really bother me. I was only 23 when he popped the question and it seemed like it was happening at just the right time. Once we were married, we did get the "baby" question. Again, I wasn't in a rush. I didn't feel any real need or desire to have children any time soon. First off, I was in school and working. And adding a pregnancy and a child to the mix did not sound fun. So I knew I wanted to wait for graduation. Well, I've been out of school for a year and a half and the "baby question" is coming more and more often. I didn't really know what to tell people because the timing still didn't feel right. We weren't terribly settled in our jobs, we were living in an apartment and I had just gotten out of school and just wanted some time to "relax." (Yes, when I say "relax" I'm referring to only having a full-time job. It frickin' feels like vacation. :-)

Don't get me wrong, I love babies (it's my job for crying out loud!) and we both want kids but I guess we just weren't feeling our clocks ticking. If it happened, I would have been totally okay with it and super excited but it wasn't something I was in a rush to start planning for. I knew it would happen eventually and like with so many other things in my life, I was happy in the moment so I felt no rush for things to change.

Then April happened. "What happened" you say? I haven't got a clue. We bought our first house in November 2008 and moved in in January 2009, so it's not like having the house has up'd the maternal ante. I've had months to get used to the idea of having a real house of our own and BBQ's and decorating were the things that dominated my thoughts . . . certainly not kid's rooms and baby proofing. We've been in Orlando for a little more than a year now, so you could say we are more settled, but I just switched jobs a couple months ago and my salary decreased so in what way does that motivate me to start planning for a baby?

Brad and I first started talking about kids shortly after we were married. As a girl, I felt like I was finally allowed to bring up the subject of kids after the wedding without the fear of being called crazy. (Brad isn't all that gun-shy but talking kids before actually being married would have been pushing it.) So anyway, it was nice to have the conversation and discuss where we both stood on the issue. I knew I wanted to wait to be out of school. After that I figured we'd move, I'd get a job, maybe a year or so out we'd start trying. At the time that would have been about 2-3 years away. Brad also wanted to wait until I was out of school but wanted more time "just for us" afterwards and was thinking more like 3-5 years.

After I graduated, I was kind of surprised that my biological clock never started ticking. I had always assumed it would. Instead, I was very career-focused and happy for the break from school and the extra time with Brad. Months passed and still nothing. We bought our first house, and . . . nothing. Then last month, I started feeling restless. Restless in a different way from how I had felt in the last year. I had spent so much time worrying about my career and how it would all work itself out and now all that was gone. It was out of my control and, even if I didn't like it, there was nothing I could do about it. So I resigned to stop worrying for the meantime and enjoy the perks of a simple, uncomplicated job with a great commute. The first couple months were pretty good, definitely less stress. But in April I felt an uneasiness that I couldn't quite pinpoint.

At first, I chalked it up to the career thing, figuring that I just wasn't feeling satisfied with my new job. But that didn't feel right, it didn't settle my mind. It was so frustrating feeling restless, uneasy, unsatisfied and not knowing why!?! I mean, when you are hungry you know it's because you need to eat. When you are happy, sad, mad, whatever. . . you should know why. It was so confusing to know that I wasn't quite content with life but have no clue what was specifically bothering me. Something was missing. Something wasn't right. I was unsettled and discontent but I didn't know why. . . I didn't know what I wanted. I kept trying to tick things off in my head, running things past my brain to feel out what it was that was causing my unease. Career? No, I'm done worrying about that. Unaccomplished goals? There are places I'd love to go and things I'd love to do but I've got plenty of time for that and it just didn't feel like the right answer. Self esteem? I'm not a huge fan of my body and the way I look and there are weeks when I want to personally smash every mirror and take scissors to each pair of ill-fitting jeans in my house. But, no, nothing's changed in that arena and it wasn't what was getting to me.

Then, one day, I thought "kids?" Huh. Wouldn't it be funny if this was my subconscious' way of telling me it was time? No way. That's so dumb. It doesn't happen like that. When I want a baby, I'll just know. I won't get a weird, unsettled, unfulfilled vibe that I can't identify or describe. That's dumb. But once I started thinking about it, I couldn't stop. It felt right, it felt good. I didn't really talk to anyone about it because I didn't want them to think I was nuts. I certainly felt crazy and like this was coming out of left field, so I can't imagine how it would seem to anyone else. Brad knew I had been going through stuff and I wasn't feeling right and that I didn't know what was bringing me down. I didn't plan on telling him about my new line of thinking.

That is until one night a couple of weeks ago. We decided to go out to dinner and we ended up having a great time, sitting outside on the patio of a great restaurant on a beautiful night, sipping our drinks and chatting about everything. And, oddly, the subject of kids came up. I always joke with Brad about his "3-5 year plan" because ever since that first conversation about kids every time I've asked if he's thought anymore about it, he says that 3-5 years still sounds about right. Well, 3 years has passed since that first conversation . . . . and, well . . . you do the math. So it always seemed to me that he just wasn't ready and was trying to put it off.

Well, he shocked me when he said that he had been thinking about kids a lot lately. He's turning 29 this year and he mentioned feeling like he was getting "old." Which, of course, he's not. But I guess when you step back and think of the timeline of your life, he was starting to think that it was about now when he wanted to start planning a family. This literally brought tears to my eyes. I just always thought that kids was going to be something that I would have to tell him that I was ready for and that he would have to work himself up to the idea. Instead, here he is telling me that he's ready anytime I am and that he's excited!

Before I knew it, I blurted out everything I'd been thinking over the last few weeks but had been too self-conscious to tell him. We had a wonderful conversation and both got very excited about the prospect of this change. Then . . .

I got the bad news that I have to be on medication for 9 months that isn't good for pregnant women. So this oven is officially closed until February 2010. I was pretty bummed, to say the least. But I'm determined to use this time wisely and get as prepared as possible. Hopefully I'll be starting the pump soon and my endo and OB-GYN are aware that I want to start "trying" soon and we all have a game plan. At this point I can't wait until February. Until then I have a very loud, very emotional biological clock ticking away in my head. Unfortunately this thing doesn't come with a snooze button. :-(

Emotionally yours,
~Layne

Happy 27th!!

Okay, so I'm such a little kid when it comes to birthdays. I just love them. I remember everyone's birthday and I just can't let one pass without celebrating a little. And today is my birthday!! For some reason 27 just feels like a big jump from 26. I know, I know. . . I'm not old but I can't really say I'm mid-20s anymore. Now I'm "late-20s" and that's just weird.

But, no worries! I'm in now way less excited about today. I have a wonderfully sweet husband, great dog, and awesome family and friends to make this day great. I'm stoked. So I hope everyone has a wonderful Memorial Day weekend and an especially great Sunday, May 24th!! I know I will!!

Love to all,
~Layne

Update

Since my last post re: the Omnipod, I had another appointment to see the endo where we officially decided that we would go ahead and try the Omnipod. He says he's normally not a "pump-pusher" (his words, not mine) especially when his patients are in relatively good control, which I guess he feels I am. But there was an exception to that rule. And that is when his lady patients are looking to get pregnant. This is such a balancing act for diabetic women that he prefers they have the fine tuned control that a pump can provide. And since pregnancy is a subject that Brad and I are talking more and more about lately (Eeeeee!! Excited!!), my endo and I thought it would be a good idea to go ahead and start with the pump. So now I'm dealing with pump reps, letters of medical necessity and insurance issues. Fun times . . . note the sarcasm.

I actually got a call from the Omnipod rep asking if I could provide blood-sugar logs showing multiple highs or lows. I didn't exactly tell her that I don't keep logs (bad diabetic!) since I could easily download my sugars. But I did tell her that I didn't think she'd see that many wacky numbers, I have spurts of badness but usually my sugars are pretty okay. Then I asked her if it would be a problem getting approved. My last A1C was 6.7. I guess that means I'm not a great candidate for changing my routine. I explained that the switch was mainly due to the fact that I was planning to try to get pregnant soon and thought the pump could help me tighten my control. She said that I should definitely ask my MD to include that reasoning in the letter of medical necessity.

I'm a little frustrated because I feel like I might be punished for being in "good control." I sure don't feel like I'm in good control! I don't think any of us should be judged by our numbers, so please don't think I'm trying to insult anyone whose A1C is higher than mine . . . but this disease sucks and it's scary and the complications are unimaginably horrendous. I'm thankful that my numbers are better now than when I was a kid (more like 7's and 8's) but if I'm not mistaken 6.7 is still above "normal" and for my health and for my child's health when I'm pregnant this is not acceptable. Plus, if I'm in such great control why do I still get high and low a few times a week? Because I'm not perfect, that's why! And if there is anything I can do to improve my control, to tighten my numbers and to get rid of the peaks and valleys, I'm going to do it, damn it! Why is that a bad thing? Why do insurance companies believe that this type of expense is frivolous or wasteful? If getting a pump means that have all my fingers and toes and my eyesight and my kidneys 50 years from now, I guarantee that I will have saved them hundreds of thousands of dollars. And, uh, I'd be a tad happy about that too, ya know? Keeping all my parts is kinda my goal in this thing here. Sheesh. Anyhoo, rant over. Just cross your fingers for me that I get approved.

Moving on . . . I'm expecting the transition to the pump to be a little weird. I'm sure my numbers will have a mind of their own while I try to transition from MDI's (multiple daily injections) to a new routine that includes a basal rate rather than Lantus to carry me through the day. Honestly, I'm pretty nervous about the whole thing. I am so comfortable with my routine. It's easy and I feel like I know what to expect. And diabetes can be a real bummer when it starts throwing curve-balls at you. Now don't get me wrong, I don't think I will hate the pump. I think I will like going to an adjustable basal rate. My numbers do different things at different times of day so it will be nice to be able fine tune based on my own rhythm. But my inner realist is telling me that it may take a while to get everything just right with this new routine. Plus, it's a foreign object dangling off my body and between that and the tape issue, I'm sure I'll get annoyed from time to time while I get used to the change. Until then, frustration (read: highs and lows) and diabetes melt-downs are sure to ensue. (Poor Brad. Baby, I'm sorry in advance.) But if it means lower A1Cs and overall better control, it's worth it for me . . . and for a potential little one later on. ;-)

Finally, at my last endo appointment I got the opportunity to sit down with his new nurse practitioner, Julie. For all who know me IRL, you know I'm a big fan of practitioners (doesn't hurt that I am one!) So I love dealing with practitioners and I'm all about supporting "the cause." If you've never made an appointment with a nurse practitioner and there's one in an office you go to (any specialty), give them a shot. Trust me. On one of those occasions when you need to be seen sooner rather than later and your regular doc is booked up, ask for the "NP." You'll be surprised with not only how easily and quickly you can be seen, but also how much time you get to spend with her/him. And more often than not, the folks I've talked to who see NP's love them. I've heard from so many people that, at first, they were nervous or annoyed about being forced to see an NP, but that once they did they realised how friendly, knowledgeable and easy to talk to they are. And they can spend so much more time with patients because they don't have to see as many. I can't speak for every single NP out there but ask around, I'm sure you'll hear rave reviews!! Anyway, true to form Julie was awesome. I love her and I'm so glad she came to this practice, where she is absolutely an asset. Easy to talk to, knowledgeable, great listener, and values my input. We just clicked. All things that are so necessary for me from my endo.

I guess that's all. Again, I rambled but that's how I roll.

~Layne