Category Archives: Random Glucose

A few D and non-D thoughts.

Because this is my blog, here are a few random diabetes and non-diabetes ramblings, in no particular order:

– Ever notice a difference in how your diabetes works with different insulins? Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know… yet. The fact is, they all work. It makes sense if they don’t all work the same. The trick is in finding what works best for you, and then not using what you’re using as an excuse for results that don’t make you happy.

– Additional note: Don’t tell me they all work the same, then tell me I have to pay three fucking times more for one than I have to pay for another. There’s a point where copyrights of manufacturers and the rights of so-called insurers need to be tempered by the needs of patients who need said insulins to survive. Three fucking times more means the balance is skewed too far toward the manufacturer and/or the insurer, and not enough toward the patient.

– I’m very excited to be speaking later on today with the brother-sister team of Hayley and Ethan Maurice, who earlier this year climbed Mount Whitney, tallest peak in the contiguous United States, raising thousands for JDRF. I’m eager to find out how things have been going since their backpacking adventure, and get a little inside scoop on how things were during their climb too.

– Part of the reason why I’m speaking with the Maurices today, and not before their trip, is because my life has been scheduled beyond belief for the past several months. I mean, I’ve had something scheduled every single Saturday morning going back to mid-May. That’s the last time I’ve slept past 7 a.m. on any morning. Sorry to complain about it so much, but every time I whine about how busy I am, it kind of lets off a little of the pressure I’m feeling, plus it helps me to focus on what is really meaningful, which is the fact that I’m amazingly lucky to be so busy. And this Saturday morning: I’m helping a friend on the other side of town at 7 o’clock. Then I’m meeting a rep from a pump maker. See what I mean?

– I get the fact that people are feeling a little jealous about the ALS ice bucket challenge. I’ve seen enthusiastic ice bucket challenge videos from people who have never donated to any of the diabetes-related things I’ve advocated for. Hell yes, I’m jealous. But I don’t begrudge them one ounce of their fun nor one dollar of their fundraising. I don’t wish Lou Gehrig’s disease on anyone any more than I wish diabetes on anyone. They are both horrific things to have to live with, and the sooner they’re both eradicated from the earth the better. I’m sad that we in the diabetes world get a lot more attention for complaining about an article in the New York Times than we get for helping to save the lives of children who don’t have access to insulin or the means to pay for it. But as I’ve noted before… when I compete, I don’t feel good, even when I win. When I help, I feel good, even if no one notices. So let’s keep our eyes open for opportunities to help, and if we keep helping, I think an opportunity will present itself and grow like this one did for ALS. If: We are all working together. Supporting each other.

– Speaking of other things I (probably) have no business weighing in on: Is it okay now to call this whole Ray Rice thing a fiasco? Maureen probably had the best take on it yesterday when I asked her whether she thought the NFL had knowledge of the elevator video prior to yesterday. She said: “Sure they knew the video existed. They just didn’t want to pay for it like TMZ did. Good for the NFL for not paying for it; shame on the NFL for not doing the right thing in the first place, video or not.” My take: No one should get a free pass on this issue. Including the fans of my favorite football team. The statistics show that no one is untouched by abuse. I’d be really happy if we could say that no one is untouched by protection from abuse. No one. Ever.

Now I’m off to search for those Medicine X videos from last week. I’m jealous of everyone who was there, but in the most supportive of ways. I can’t wait to hear everything I’ve only heard up to now via Twitter and blog posts. Be safe, be well, and remember: I support you… no conditions.
 
 
 

Changing faces for a changing landscape.

Here are some random thoughts for you to chew on this weekend. I’m not suggesting anything here, just doing kind of a “what if?” riff in my head and spilling it onto this page.

I was thinking yesterday of the change at the top happening at both JDRF and the American Diabetes Association. Both CEOs are stepping down. Jeffrey Brewer has in fact already stepped down from his post at JDRF after four years, replaced by Derek Rapp. And Larry Hausner is leaving as CEO of ADA at the end of the month. No replacement has been named yet.

The American Diabetes Association and JDRF are by far the two largest diabetes organizations in the United States. Sometimes competing, sometimes not, they both look to raise both money and awareness for their cause. In JDRF’s case, “Less Until None” for Type 1 patients. And For ADA, to “Stop Diabetes” of all types, though almost by default, a lot of their mission is geared toward type 2s, who represent the overwhelming majority of diabetes patients worldwide.

I thought about this yesterday, and then thought of other big organizations fighting for recognition, donor money (both governmental and private), and volunteers to aid their missions. Love them or hate them, Susan G. Komen is the face of breast cancer awareness. MDA is the go-to group for Muscular Dystrophy. The American Heart Association is, for us in the States anyway, the reliable resource for all things related to heart health.

Yet I can remember, more than once, asking someone to donate to a JDRF fund raiser and being told “Oh, I already gave to ADA”. And Or vice versa.

Am I suggesting that ADA and JDRF merge their missions into one huge conglomerate of an organization? No. Never.Gonna.Happen. For about a thousand different reasons. JDRF is an international organization, ADA is only U.S.-based is the first. The other reasons are so many and so varied that I don’t really need to repeat them here.

But there are a number of facts that are changing the landscape of the diabetes community. Among them:

– An increasing awareness that the diabetes community has spent way too much time and energy in silos, leading to distance and even animosity between types.

– Recognition of the fact that this is changing, and Type 1 versus Type 2 versus insert-your-type-here is a dead end going nowhere.

– A widening awareness of D-stigma, and a growing desire to squash it like a bug on the windshield of a speeding automobile.

– The growing role of social media in our community, and how, like Moore’s Law itself, it is changing roles, perceptions, the number of contributors, and sources of income faster than ever before.

I wonder if this moment in time represents, in a way, a chance for these two organizations, and the greater diabetes universe, to look at their missions in a new light. How can we work together? What can we learn from each other? And certainly: How can we help patients people today while planning and adapting for the future?

I’m not sure these questions can be answered easily. But I think the best time to ask them may be right now.
 
 
 

Same routine, different location.

I toyed with the idea of headlining this post “Oops, I did it again”, but that just seems cliche now. And a little sad. And who could ever confuse me with Britney Spears? Okay, I’ll just stop now…

Saturday, I did it again: I donated blood.

According to the American Red Cross, “Diabetics who are well controlled on insulin or oral medications are eligible to donate”. When I learned this over a year ago, I was thrilled to know I could again participate in something I consider a civic duty.

This was the first time I had donated blood outside of my work environment, where they usually hold 2 or 3 blood drives every year. Instead, this time, I went to the local Red Cross office, which, thankfully for me, was only about a ten minute drive from home. I arrived early and was greeted by a friendly person who asked me to sign in, then chided me for looking at my donor card to double-check my blood type. “You should always know your blood type. It’s critical information in times of emergency”.

In my defense, I did know my blood type, but I wasn’t 100 percent sure of it until I looked again. For the record, I’m an O Positive. I think that’s kind of rare, because as soon as I’m eligible again, the Red Cross will start calling me, asking me to come back, the vampires. I joke all the time that the only two phone calls I ever get are from my wife and the Red Cross.

Only they don’t look like vampires down there. They’re just ordinary people going about their jobs, complaining about the bad children’s music blaring from the television in the waiting area, comparing nail polish, and talking about their husbands and wives. They make the whole process easy, comfortable, and as painless as possible.

It was about as nice an experience as you can have (sans the bad kiddie music) while having blood drained from your body. I generally don’t have any of the post-donation wooziness that some people experience after giving. But Saturday, I did have one or two moments where I needed to find a chair for a couple of minutes. Too much running around, I guess.

For the record, that makes four blood donations in a little over 13 months. It’s true… I have Type 1 diabetes and I can donate blood. And to quote Martha Stewart (which I thought I’d never do on this blog), that’s a very good thing.

Curious about whether you can donate blood yourself? If you’re in the USA, you can find all the info at redcrossblood.org, or send me an e-mail using the link in the upper-left corner of this page and I’ll tell you what I know.
 
 
 

It just feels good. And it works.

I’ve noticed this phenomenon each of the last two holiday seasons. This is a time of year when I’m unable to work out as much as I’d like and therefore, my insulin doesn’t seem to work out as well in my system. In short, my numbers are higher than the rest of the year.

But…Here’s what is so amazing about this time of year for me:

Last Sunday, we had our annual holiday open house. After a snowy afternoon filled with sweet and salty carbs and lots of conversation among friends and neighbors, my 6:00 p.m. BG check showed 113 mg/dL.

Monday, I had a normal day at work, eating something close to my normal diet, and couldn’t muster anything lower than a 156.

On Tuesday, more of the same. Okay dietary choices, worked through the day, came home, and my pre-dinner check showed 165 mg/dL. But: After dinner, our next door neighbor came over and we spent a few hours talking and laughing and sharing stories. Can you guess? My BG check after came in at 75 mg/dL.

Hey, I can’t explain it. I’ve never been known as a social person, though that’s changed a lot over the last couple of years. But I know that people-to-people contact has definitely had a positive impact on my glucose this holiday season. So I’m going to seek it out as much as I can.

I’m curious… Do in person get-togethers help you with your BG management?
 
 
 

Sometimes, I just hate getting blood drawn.

Excuse me while I vent a little…

I had to get blood drawn today for the clinical trial I’m participating in. Instead of going all the way down to Virginia to get it done, the team there sent me a lab slip so I could get the work done here. Fine so far, right?

So I go into the local corporate-owned lab processing place (are there any mom and pop lab processing places?) and gave them the lab slip that had been scanned and e-mailed to me. In the office there was me and three lab technicians. That’s where the trouble started.

“This says ‘Virginia’ on it… I don’t know if we can do that here”. Well, yes, you can. You’re a multi-state organization, which is why they chose you to do the work (I live in Maryland, for those who don’t know).

“This doesn’t have your name on it, just your initials… I don’t think we can do this without your name on it.” They’re trying to keep the study participant information as private as possible, I think, and I just let you look at my driver’s license, and by the way, the form says “patient’s initials” where my initials are.

“Okay, we just need your name, date of birth, your phone number, and your address.” Really? Do the words “Patient Privacy” mean anything to you? Actually, that’s only what I was thinking, it’s not what I said. I eventually gave it to them to keep the process-at-a-snail’s-pace moving.

What I said, eventually, was: “Look, I’m not going to come in here out of the blue with a forged lab slip because I like going around and getting poked in the arm all the time. No one would do that.”

Ten minutes later, the blood was drawn and I was on my way. After answering questions like “did we get your date of birth?” (Yes) and “This goes to Johns Hopkins, right?” (No, University of Virginia). Start to finish the process took about 50 minutes. And I was the only patient in the place.

I was a retail manager in a previous life, and I know this is a different setting, but let me put it this way: I never believed in the notion that “The customer is always right”. My feeling was, the customer should never be made to feel that it’s their fault if they’re wrong. If I hand you a piece of paper that doesn’t look like every other piece of paper you receive (even though it does have your company’s logo at the top), let’s work together so I can ease your fears and you can ease mine.

If we had worked together, the whole episode would have taken less time, and you and I probably would have had smiles on our faces at the end of the process. If you even care about that kind of thing. Which, maybe, you don’t.