Category Archives: Continuous Glucose Monitor (CGM)
When I was first diagnosed with diabetes, I took one insulin injection a day: a little bit of Regular and a little bit of NPH mixed in a syringe before breakfast. That quickly shifted to twice a day: before breakfast and before dinner.
I had a glucose test kit that stayed in the school nurse’s office. In 1981 (1st grade, diagnosis), it was a urine test, in 1991 (11th-12th grade) it was a blood test. But it was there, not with me.
The only thing I carried around with me everywhere I went was a little box of Sun-Maid raisins, in case I felt low. Or maybe a roll of Life Savers, which always ended up permanently stuck to the paper wrapping (and each other) ensuring I had plenty of fiber with my low BG treatment.
At some point I switched to blood tests, first by holding the strip up to a color chart, and later by using a big, clunky meter. I took it with me on family outings, but I don’t remember ever taking it to school. All I took was the box of stale raisins to treat lows; or maybe a roll of Life-Savers, inseparably stuck to the foil wrapping and each other.
I don’t ever remember carrying a meter with me in school. In 9th grade, I had a late lunch period and consistently went low during my biology lab period before. But I fought through it like a
champ chump, traveling light.
I can’t remember if I carried a meter with me to class in college. Twelve years later after diagnosis, I was still on just two injections a day, each was a mix of Regular and NPH, taken before breakfast and dinner, with the Regular dose on a sliding scale that increased with my blood sugar. The scale matched the intervals on the old Chemstrip color chart: 180-240, add 1 unit. 240-300, add 2 units. 300-400, add 3 units, and so on.
I keep asking myself why I feel this way about the Enlite sensor.
I keep telling myself that – despite the experience of others – I can get it to work to my satisfaction. I want it to work, I really do. Really, really, really.
Lots of times, it does. When my diabetes is behaving well and my blood sugars stay in a comfortable range (say, between 70 and 200 mg/dl), Enlite’s performance is fantastic. Awesome. Impeccable. And I’m happy – very happy – and I tell myself that I’m going to stick with it after my trial (disclosure) is over.
But then something goes wrong.
Oh, I heard it.
I’m pretty sure I heard it.
Every hour. For seven hours straight.
I don’t remember the first six times it happened, but I do remember lying in bed on the seventh, to the sound of Bee-do-Bee-do-Bee-do echoing from beneath the sheets.
I remember lying restlessly in bed, trying to fall back to sleep in spite of the background noise.
Here’s 30 days worth of sharps logged and catpured on film in under 3 minutes…a video collection I began last August. Enjoy!
(Yes, I used two meters – during this month, because I momentarily lost one, an only changed the lancet once in each).
Today’s topic: Back for another year, let’s show everyone what life with diabetes looks like! With a nod to the Diabetes 365 project, let’s grab our cameras again and share some more d-related pictures. Post as many or as few as you’d like. Feel free to blog your thoughts on or explanations of your pictures, or leave out the written words and let the pictures speak for themselves.
Like some other d-bloggers, I was invited to test-drive the new Medtronic 530G pump (formally the “Medtronic Minimed 530G with Enlite”).
To be honest with you, I didn’t immediately jump at the opportunity. I had a few reservations and took some time to think about it, but ultimately decided to give it a go. I’ll discuss that thought process in another post.
But for now, I think it’s helpful to express and document what I expect out of this trial and this baby-step towards a closed-loop system. Only then can I deem this a “success” or not.
So what do I expect out of this system, that my current Medtronic Revel doesn’t offer? Well, not a whole lot. Not a heck of a lot has changed since the previous version. But what has changed is pretty big. Or small. (Depending on how you look at it).