Double the basal, double the fun. Not.

It was a lovely Thanksgiving afternoon.  Turkey et al had been consumed, insulin bolused, and the kiddos were outside playing a rousing game of soccer.

The adults were still gathered around the table, digesting our meal when it happened; the long, continuous screech of death which tells you diabetes has decided to screw with your holiday.

As I jumped to my feet, I realized that it was not possible for me to be hearing Elise's pod, since she was outside.  Either I had developed the hearing of an owl or the PDM was the source.  Sure enough; PDM error.  Still sucky, just not as sucky as a pod failure.

For you non-podders (or podders who have never encountered this), when you get a PDM error, the pod will continue to deliver the basal, even though the PDM (once reset) won't recognize the pod that is being worn.  This was great because we were a ways off from dessert, and I didn't want to interupt Elise's soccer game.

I reset the PDM, and when Elise came inside, we changed her pod.  As per our usual routine, she left the old pod on until we could put baby oil on the adhesive to get it off.

The rest of the evening, Elise hovered on the low side.  I ran negative temp basals, bolused for half of more pie, and still she remained stayed low-ish (80s - according to the CGM).

When we got home, I turned off her basal entirely; since we had been free-basing smarties the whole ride home.  I think her basal stayed off for almost three hours.  She came up to about 100.  I was worried about ketones developing (since she wasn't receiving any insulin), so I turned on her basal at 50%.  She went low again.

That night, Fred and I were up checking her almost every 30 minutes.  We alternated between turning off/down her basal and giving her carbs. I was flummoxed... how could she be receiving no insulin, eating smarties and her BG still go DOWN?

Any pod people care to chime in here?

Finally at 6:00 am, I sat bolt upright in bed after just laying down from a BG check and subsequent smartie-feeding.  I yelled, "THE OLD POD!  IT'S THE OLD POD!  IT'S STILL DELIVERING BASAL INSULIN!!!"  I ran to Elise's room, turned the basal off completely on the new pod and gave Elise 12g of yogurt.  Finally, she rose above 100 and stayed there.

Remember this picture from this post a few days ago?  That was this night.

The funny thing is, right before I woke up to check her at 6:00 am, I had a dream that Fred and I were driving down a highway and passed two factories right next to each other.  The factories were somewhat dome-like and both had chimneys with smoke rising from each one.  I remarked to Fred how strange it was to see smoke from both chimneys, because usually there was smoke from one or the other; not both at the same time.

Looks like Lenny and Harold are alive and well. Maybe next time guys, help me figure out my mistake a little earlier, mmmkay?

Lenny and Harold ride again

Diabetes Bloopers - Wednesday

This is not really a blooper, per se. But a not-so-funny-at-the-time anecdote that makes me chuckle now that some time has passed.

If you are rather new-ish to my insane ramblings, you might not know who Lenny and Harold are. They are Those that Shall not be Ignored. Simply put, Lenny and Harold are the little voices in my head that speak up when something could be very wrong; especially in the realm of all things diabetes.

Since the arrival of the Dexcom, they've sort of been on vacation. A much needed vacation. Although they still show up to tell me things like; on no planet does that shirt go with those pants. Or maybe I really should exercise my right to remain silent now.

But the other night, our Dexcom decided to take a powder in the form of the dreaded ???. I thought it was because Elise was sleeping on the sensor. Not so much. It turns out that the transmitter had popped out.

Let me break here and tell you that there is nothing quite so awesome as searching through a mountain of stuffed animals, blankets, and the plethora of other craziness that Elise sleeps with for a little grey hunk of plastic that is the size of an international postage stamp. It. Is. So. Aaaawesooooome.

After we popped that elusive sucker back in (another not-so-easy task), we waited for the Dexcom to calibrate.

About 45 minutes later, as I tried in vain to sleep, Lenny and Harold showed up.

"Get up! Get up! Sheeeeeee's loooooow. Come on, get your mis-matched ass (yes, I even have trouble co-ordinating my pjs) outta bed and check your daughter!"

Thinking I was just being paranoid because I didn't have the Dexcom working, I tried to ignore them. But they just wouldn't shut up. They're kinda like Charlie Sheen in that respect.

Finally I went in and checked her... 52. Well, crap-a-doodle-doo. Looks like Lenny and Harold are batting a thousand still. It's nice to know they can still be trusted.

When a pseudo pancreas screws up

Elise went low the other night. We missed it and it was my fault. We have a baby monitor in our room, and we put Eileen right next to the monitor in her room. When Elise wakes up in the morning, I turn the receiver in our room down, so it won't wake up Mattias; who sleeps in our room.

When I went to bed that night, I forgot to turn the receiver in our room up. We missed Eileen alerting us to a LOW alarm... the one that beeps when she's below 55. We only know this because when Mattias woke us up for his 2:30 feeding, Fred and I heard Eileen loudly beeping like crazy.

When I realized what I had done, we ran into Elise's room, only to see the LOW 55 screen. When we cleared the alert, we saw that the low had occurred about an hour before and now Eileen was showing us the ???. When we checked Elise's BG, a finger poked showed her at 250. As Eileen finally came back up, we saw the number 310 with an arrow up.

I felt awful; like I had been kicked in the stomach. I couldn't believe I had forgotten something so simple. After I beat myself up for a good amount of time, I turned my attention to what I was thankful for.

That Elise's liver kicked in and possibly saved her life. I know full well what could have happened, and it takes my breath away if I think about it too much. So thank you, Elise's liver... I'm glad that you take your job seriously.

What I'd like to know is; what happened to Lenny and Harold?

Even in my dreams

As a general rule, I try to never bore people with the details of my dreams. Because listening to someone recount their dream to you is like hearing someone drone on about their evening of drunkenness; it never makes any sense and is way more interesting to the one telling the tale than the one having to hear it.

Having said that, I did have a doozy the other night. I was back in high school, trying to open my locker when I was hit with a wave of dizziness. I kept falling down and felt horrible, sweaty and I couldn't see straight.

When a teacher walked towards me I told him, "you need to help me, I have type 1 diabetes and I'm having a low blood sugar."

At that exact moment, Eileen buzzed and woke me up. When I went into Elise's room to check, I saw 76 with double arrows down. A finger poke showed her at 64.

The weird thing about the dream is that the symptoms were very vivid... I actually felt like I was experiencing a low BG.

Perhaps it was just a coincidence. Maybe it was just Lenny and Harold speaking to me through a dream. But I'd like to think it's that strong bond between a mother and her child.

Mom-tuition strikes again

I've talked about it before... those little voices in your head that start to natter at you when something is up. When it comes to all things diabetes, I've named those voices Lenny and Harold.

Last night Lenny and Harold decided to wake me up about 12:30 am; a mere 45 minutes after I'd fallen asleep. I think Mattias had gotten in on the act by kicking my bladder. Lenny and Harold really, really wanted me to go check on Elise... even though I had been in there an hour before and Eileen (CGM) told me that Elise's BG was at 135 and heading up.

But Lenny and Harold threatened me with a duet of "Do You Think I'm Sexy" - the lounge version - so down the hall I went, only to find Eileen telling me that Elise was 112 with double arrows down. A quick finger check told me she was 93.

(double arrows down on Dexcom means that the person's BG is falling at a rate of 2 -3 every minute - meaning in a mere 10 minutes, Elise's BG could fall from 93 to 63).

Thankfully, I know that Eileen would have chimed in at some point and alerted me to the low, but it was nice to catch it before it happened. After 8g, Elise went back up and hovered around the 110 - 140 mark all night; waking up at 125.

Lenny. Harold. I don't know how you do it, but keep on doing what you're doing.

The return of Lenny and Harold: a one-act play

Lenny and Harold were first introduced in this post. They are the voices in my head whose main job is to tell me when something is amiss with Elise. They could also be called a Mother's Intuition.

Lenny: Pssst, hey... human pancreas. Wake up!

Me: Huh? Wazzat? What's going on?

L: Look, you should really go check Elise's blood sugar. We think it's important.

Me: What time is it? Only 11:00? Seriously guys?

Harold: Seriously, go check her.

Me: I just checked her 45 minutes ago. She was 210, and it's only been 2 1/2 hours since her shot. Trust me, nothing is going on.

H: Trust us. Get outta bed, waddle your pregnant butt down the hallway, and give her BG a look-see, will ya?

Me: Guys, give me a break. Between you and Bruce the bladder waking me up every other hour to squeeze out a spoonful of urine, I'm getting no sleep. All work and no sleep makes Joanne a very grumpy pancreas. She's not due to be checked for another 2 hours or so. Let me go back to sleep.

L: Yeah, that's not happening. Get up, or you'll have to listen to our rendition of Beyonce's "All the Single Ladies".

Me: I'm up, I'm up!

Harold and Lenny are mercifully quiet as I go to check on Elise. The theme from "A Summer Place" plays quietly in my head.

Me: Yeah... guys? I totally owe you an apology. She was 111. How she dropped from 210 to 111 in only 45 minutes is beyond me, but I gotta go get some carbs in her. I don't know how you do it, but I'm glad you do.

L & H: That's what we're here for.

This is just my playful attempt at pointing out the importance of listening to your gut, those little voices, your intuition; whatever you want to call it. I can't even count how many times we've caught a low (or impending low), thanks to "Lenny and Harold".

Now Bruce, on the other hand, needs a good talking to...

When you should listen to those little voices in your head

We interrupt Diabetes Week to bring you the following post that can only be filed under "what the CRAP?" So today was gym day. That's when I take Elise to the local rec centre where she can run, jump, and play with all the other free-range children. There's a bounce house, tricycles, gymnastics mats, and all sorts of goodies to play with. Then I get to sit on my butt for 90 minutes while she is having fun. It's a win-win. I test her BG at snack time... 10:30. She's 129. Wonderful, especially considering she woke up at 268 this morning. She gets her 15g snack and off she goes. I keep a very watchful eye, for reasons you will read about tomorrow. I start getting ready to leave around 11:30. I wanted to check her to make sure the NPH hasn't peaked. I clean her finger, shunk (thanks Karen!), 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... aaaaaand 377. WHAT THE CRAP??? I look at the meter. Shake it. Turn it upside down even. And still the 377 mocks me. "There's no way" I tell myself, "did I miss a low?" One of the many voices in my head (let's call him Harold) tells me to check her again. But I'm in a hurry to leave, so I don't. During the 5 minute drive home, I pass a McDonald's. Their fries are calling to me, so I make a quick detour (yes, yes... I know. Leave me alone, I'm pregnant). As soon as I get the bag, Elise starts whining, "fries? Fries? Hungry!" She's actually starting to have a meltdown, so I quickly drive home. When I get there, one of the many other voices (let's call him Lenny) tells me I should really re-check her. This time I listen (Lenny has more pull than Harold). I clean her finger, shunk. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... aaaaaand 57! WHAT THE CRAP??? How does she drop 320 in less than 30 minutes? Wha' happened? Why didn't I listen to Harold? Her finger was clean... what did I do wrong? As you can probably tell, this is the first time I've ever experienced something like this. And the worst thing of all, I ignored my daughter's pleas for food because I thought her BG was high. UGH... Worst. Mom. Ever. The only thing I could have done worse, is gone by that 377 and given her a correction. That would have been most excellent (please read that last sentence with a large helping of sarcasm). I will never ignore Harold or Lenny again.