Category Archives: Continuous Glucose Monitor (CGM)
Over the past year or so, I’ve been finding it much more difficult to put infusion sets in certain parts of my body — namely, my lower back and upper butt.
The routine used to go like this: I’d twist my waist, torso, and neck so I could get a good view of the spot that’s about to be traumatized by the long insertion needle. Then I’d jab, remove the adhesive covering, and retract the needle. Easy.
Nowadays, I rotate my waist as far as I can, wincing from the pain and resisting the urge to scream, keep my torso straight and solid, and then I crane my neck in an attempt to get the site in my peripheral vision. Next, I jab, probably at a less-than-optimal angle (causing more pain), remove the adhesive covering, retract the needle, and curse what old-age has done to my body.
All the while, I’ve slid my glasses down from the bridge of my nose so I can get a better view. I look, and feel, like a cranky old geezer from an earlier generation.
If this is what diabetes at 39 feels like, I hate to see what happens when I turn 40.
I suppose loss of flexibility just happens when a person gets older. Perhaps my regular amount of exercise (none) just isn’t enough. Maybe some routine stretching or aerobics would help my flexibility (while, at the same time, the increased muscle mass would reduce the already sparse locations on my body suitable for traumatic insertion-needle jabbing).
Seriously. Finding adequate real-estate for a new infusion site on my scrawny frame is like a developer looking for a vacant parcel of land on Long Island for a new shopping mall. It seems there’s nowhere left. Yet, somehow, we both squeeze it in. Somehow.
But if my ability to twist becomes even more limited than it is today, and the entire back half of my body becomes off-limits, I’m totally screwed.
That thought really freaks me out.
On Friday evening, my father-in-law stopped over for a surprise visit – with the question “What’s for dinner?”
Actually, the part about the visit being a surprise was a lie, but the question was true. Not being in the mood to hear criticisms of a homemade meal, we elected to head out to a local Bar-and-Grill type place to eat.
I ordered a corned-beef reuben sandwich with a side of fries. And since the Happy Hour special, a 16 ounce (light) beer for $1.50, was too good to pass up, I got one of those too.
French fries will be the death of me. I don’t think I ever ate a fry that I didn’t later regret — at least not since I started keeping a close eye on my blood sugars. (But the sandwich, prepared on rye bread, should be better than a different type of sandwich on a bun, right?).
But this time, I thought I finally got it right:
My blood sugar came up, peaked a bit, then started to come back down. Just like it should — but rarely does — after a meal like this.
Finally!! I got it right!! I was really, really proud of myself that night. I was in disbelief, but quietly congratulating myself for getting the bolus right.
I went to bed with a big smile on my face, just delighted over how well my D-management was.
But six hours later, I learned that – while I was sleeping like a baby – the shit had hit the fan…
Apparently I noticed a small climb in BG and had given a slight correction for them (I also, apparently, slept through a few alarms), but I wasn’t prepared to wake up at 3:32 am with a blood sugar of 297 mg/dl.
Next time, I’ll wait a full 24 hours before assessing my diabetes-related decisions…
I admit it. I’m one of the people that has put a big emotional investment on hope. I think everyone hopes for something, but the extent to which we rely on that hope, and and to which it makes us happy or sad, anxious or angry, motivated or despondent, varies.
In this particular case, my hope has led me to inclinations of the latter of each of the three pairings (sadness, anger, despondency).
Why? Because I’m not hoping for something that hasn’t been discovered yet (well, I am, but that’s not what upsets me). I’m hoping for something that is available to the most of the free world (you can even order it in Canada, apparently), but not in the United States.
I’m talking about the Medtronic Enlite Continuous Glucose Monitoring Sensor.
Why is it that those of us in the States are stuck using a primitive sensor with a needle that is terrifyingly large and readings that are (sometimes) terrifyingly inaccurate? (sometimes, this happens)
Even though I somehow forgot to bolus for Saturday’s breakfast, this should never have happened: