Double Dipping

Mir bozi cristo serodi!! Or Merry Orthodox Christmas Eve to those non-slavic speaking orthodox descendants of immigrants. At time of writing my sugar is at 46 and I'm shaking like a mofo. I swear I'm going to do a cover of the Outkast song "hey ya" with the lyrics: "...shake it, shake shake it, shake it uh huh, shake it, shake shake it, shake it, shake it, shake shake it, shake it like a hypoglycemic patient..."

No Santa or snow or children chirping like chickens under a table bedecked with hay and money, just another roller coaster ride in a post Diabetic life. I woke up at 8:25. That in and of itself is a small miracle. My sugar was decent so I headed over for my blood work appointment which was... across the street? Wow, that was convenient. Fifteen vials of blood and one vial of urine later I was done.

"You should have some juice or something," said my heavily spanish accented matrushka doll shaped blood drawing attendant. "Maybe a cookie." This was about to get awkward.

"Um... I'm diabetic." Silence... yep, awkward.

From the blood test I grabbed a vegan sandwich from the corner store and caught the train to Columbia University to meet with my nurse. She's a funny woman, middle aged, slender with not too thick frizzy blond hair, a matronly voice and habitual over-blinking. She told me a lot of stuff I already knew, and corrected a lot of things I thought I knew. No more lows was a sentiment that she repeated and together with the voice of Dr. Thys it is starting to get through - theoretically if not yet practically. Together Nurse Linda and I went over some numbers and decided that I was probably best suited for a 20:1 carb to insulin unit ratio. She also decided with Dr. Thys to lower my basal insulin to 13 units which started tonight.

From Nurse Linda's I went straight to rehearsal, sat through an hour note session and a 1.5 hour fight call and then performed Act 2 in Joey. I had dinner using her new counting method and even ate a little extra to be safe and then took a nap. I woke up in time for fight call (I was in Topthorn tonight) and ran upstairs. As I put my shoes on I started shaking and don't remember any of the fight call, only stumbling into the stage management office and pouring chocolates down my throat. Then I tumbled into the green room and had... well I'll tell you about that later. Basically I went low, caught myself, went high, did the show, went home and entered into another nightmare.

And so...


8:30 -> 156 No breakfast. 15 vials of blood.
10:20 -> 5 units of Novolog w/veggie turkey sandwich, 2 bananas and some blueberries.
11:40 -> 93 At work had almonds, peanuts and a protein shake. Still hungry, had a clif bar and ACV.
5:45 -> 111 Wild rice, brussel sprouts, chicken, brownie, small biscuit and small piece of homemade bread for a total of 102 carbs. Took 5 units of Novolog.
7:10 -> Time for fight call, had two small apples then started shaking. Had a slice of bread, 8 oz milk, and chocolate for 30 more carbs.
7:36 -> 66 Had a Lara bar and a bite of cupcake for 30 more carbs.
9:21 -> 265 Guess I overshot it a bit.
12:45 -> 143 Took 13 units of Lantus, then 5 units of Novolog (injected into my new upper buttock fat) with greek salad, quinoa, indian curry, chicken drumstick and a bite of potato/carrots/onions for a total of 110 carbs.
2:32 -> 46 Shaking like crazy. Had a 12 oz glass of milk for 15 carbs.
2:50 -> 78 Had half a pb&j.
3:22 -> 50 Still shaking. Had 9 quadratini and half a cup of ice cream for 40 total carbs.
3:42 -> 86 Finally starting to feel better
4:13 -> 140 At last the shaking has stopped. I'm exhausted.

During this crazy night time fiasco I called home and then Marissa Rinkle and then home again. It's great having the support and the wise words. What she helped me understand was that having such an active day really burns through the sugar faster. Also she advised me to err on the side of "high" for the next day or two because some many concurrent lows cause depletion of glucose in the muscles, which is your bodies last hope for combating a spell of hypoglycemia. Basically my muscles are now empty and so a low would be even more dangerous than usual. Tomorrow I'll be enjoying every dang cookie that's brought to the theatre.


Sometimes I feel like pancreatic function is like a bowler, yes bowler, as in somebody who goes to a bowling alley, dons the slick shoes, fingers a 10 pound orb and hurls it down a waxed alley towards a bunch of petrified fiberglass pins - a bowler. A normal pancreas is like an average or above average bowler. You generally hit the pins (an example of a normal day of eating and glucose metabolism), and only rarely does the ball end up in the gutters (a sugar high post Thanksgiving dinner or sugar low post insane workout). In this metaphor my "artificial" pancreas in the form of a few needle tipped sharpie sized pens is like a belligerent autistic child trying to bowl. For weeks he was actually tossing the ball across several alleys where it would land and crunch the stained wood beneath it. But now that I'm on insulin it's as if my bowling lane has bumpers. Only it's the same dang kid throwing the ball so the bumpers take blow after blow as the ball ricochets down the alley. Poor bumpers, they have to last the next 60+ years to protect the neighboring alleys (liver, eye, and kidney function).

At least now I have the One Touch Delica, a pocket sized lancing device with a smooth feminine shape, perfect for the woman on the go!

Day 18