Thoughtless people

Diabetes is hard. Communicating my needs to non-Diabetic is even harder.

I've been sick all week...

Not a little cold, or a minor illness. It's been some sort of fucking evil strand of I might kill you and there's nothing you can do about it. For four mornings straight, my meter has been waving at me. I'm supposed to eat with my insulin, but when it doesn't register on the meter which means it's over 600, I won't eat. I know it's bad, but I don't feel comfortable eating until it's down to the 100s. Also, it saves me from going to the hospital.

But the thing that gets to me is the stupid old puerto rican biddy that gave me this nasty ass illness of death, decided to stop taking her meds. Why? Because Muscinex was bringing too much stuff up. Mum told her how I can't be near her and my madrina until she gets better. She told them that this illness has the potential to take my life. She told them I've been having problems stabilizing my blood sugar and the high and lows are doing a number on my system.

Yet, the old biddy was like, no I don't want to take it. Mum told her that she probably got it from the plane trip and the old biddy says I gave it to her via ear candling. Finally, Mum takes her to a clinic, who confirms that she did get the illness from the plane and the muscinex was the best thing for her and to continue to take it.

I guess I wouldn't be so pissed if this wasn't the first time she and my madrina have come into town. I guess I wouldn't be so mad if I thought they would visit us again, but I know they won't. I guess I wouldn't be so livid if this damn illness didn't take a week out of my life. I recently quit my job, I'm looking for a new one and what happens...I lose my voice for a damn week. What does that mean, it means I can't call places, I can't walk in an inquire about positions. A week, gone because of the old womans weak immune system.

And she doesn't even give a shit about her health. And if she doesnt' care about her own health, she sure as hell doesn't give a rat's ass about mine. Everytime I go over there, I am risking my life to see them. RISKING MY LIFE. And do they care, no. Do they understand, probably not. I already have a weak immune system, anything can take me down.

Oh but, all the over the counter meds Mum tries to give her is making her worse. Well, woman your 78 years old and if you don't know it by now, shit has to get worse before you start getting better. If you are coughing up an arm and a leg it's good because the nasty stuff is getting out of your system and killing the germs. That's the point of medication.

She goes to the clinic and all of a sudden she's overembellishing, exagerrating everything.

"Oh my god, I have a fever."
"Oh my god, I am cold. I have chills."

She wasn't complaining about a fever or chills or even coughing before she got to the clinic.

And this is how I look at it.....SO let me get this straight. She was sick, you gave her meds, she started feeling better, but then too much mucus and phelm was coming up and she couldn't deal with it so she quit taking her meds, then she claims that the ear candling got her sick because there is no way the plane ride over here did her in since there was no one sick on the plane, then she exagerrates symptoms she doesn't even have.....this is what I call old lady pay attention to me syndrome.

The woman probably didn't even want to come visit, got sick and saw it as a way to get away with doing nothing and dampering the trip at the same time.

Then my madrina complains about how she can't take her mother anywhere because she always get sick. Well, that's what happens when you're 78 and on a plane for longer than 5 hours.

Ahhhh.......so frustrating.

sick = hell

I'm sick,  again. Frustration.....

So new rule in my life. If you are from out of town and visiting and you don't have a strong immune system, don't expect to see me at all. Why? Because you will get sick and me being around you for oh, I don't know, 2 hours, will get me sick.

If you are coughing, don't expect to see me.
If you don't feel good, don't expect to see me.

I throat is sore, I hardly have a voice, I can barely swallow, my ears hurt, there's nothing but pressure in my head that is driving me crazy, I'm coughing, I'm blowing my nose like crazy, it sucks.

This isn't a cold like the last two times, this is like the mother of all colds. The I'm going to beat you into submission and you're going to like it colds.

And I hate this feeling. March was bad enough with Mum and Ronnie getting me sick within a week of each other.

And how did I get sick when we are practically in bloody July and I live in the south so you know it's heat stoke the minute you walk outside hot? Glad you asked. My mom's friend/my madrina and her mother came into town for the first time ever and her mother got sick. Then I was stupid and not knowing she had been coughing that day, spent roughly 3 hours in a car with her and pretty much al day with her. when you're diabetic and trapped in a car with someone coughing, you're going to get sick. It's inevitable. Your immune system is already compromised due to the diabetes. Had I known she was coughing, I would have been like, no go without me. I'll see you later.

What does this mean? It means I can't hang out with them for the rest of thier visit. Which is overly frustrating.

This is why the new rule is now in place.

This is the second time someone from out of town has gotten me sick. And I can't take cold medicine to rectify this situation. Sure there are diabetic cold medicines, but when I wake up with my blood sugar 460 and my husband gives me this I'm really worried about you look before he goes off to work and I'm on a strict text every hour, test every two hour, and I'm scared to eat until my blood sugar is in the 100s, I'm not risking finding out the reaction of the cold meds. I'm not interested in seeing if it will cause a spike in either direction.

Stupid diabetes. Stupid people getting me sick. A cough. One cough and that's all it takes. And then specific measures have to be taken. I have to test every 1 - 2 hours. If Bryan is at work I must text every hour on the hour. If I miss a text, then I'm DKAing. I am not allowed to sleep at all until Bryan comes home just to make sure the blood sugar doesn't plummet. I can't eat until I'm in the low 100s. If my blood sugar does not go under 240 in four hours I have to go to the hospital. If I have diahrrea twice in a four hour period, I have to go to the hospital.

See what a pain in the ass it is to get me sick. So frustrating.

I can never nap again?!?!?!?!

I can't nap anymore.

I want to nap, I love my naps, but my diabetes won't let me take a siesta in the middle of the day anymore.

Originally Bryan and I thoght it meant I just can't go back to sleep after taking my morning insulin. Then we found out it meant I can't return to bed after doing a massage. Now it means I can't nap at all anytime during the day.

Why?

My stupid blood sugar plummets. I wake up and boom low blood sugar. I don't know why this happens. I can't even formulate a reason as to why this could possibly happen. I'm pretty sure napping would cause a spike, which means low blood sugar may be the aftereffects of the spike coming down when I wake up. But I find it hard to believe that waking up from a 2 hour nap would cause this. I wake up and depending on how long I've been asleep I range from 31-78.

It makes no sense. At least to me, it doesn't. When you sleep you have awful spikes. The purpose of the long acting insulin is to stop these spikes from occuring. If I'm taking 20 units of long acting during the day, then these little potholes should not be occuring during napping.

However, I tend to sleep when I'm stress, so maybe the release of stress through sleep causes my blood sugar to plummet.

Either way, no more naps for Michelle. Sadness. First you try to kill me Diabetes, now you take my naptime. Grrr....

The goal of everyday.....sweet spots.

I hate Diabetes. I hate everything about diabetes. I hate having it, I hate insulin, I hate buying insulin, I hate going to the pharmacy, I hate test strips, I hate syringes, I hate lancets, I hate low blood sugar, I hate shaking, I hate being anxious, I hate numbers, I hate air bubbles, I hate food, I hate the smell of sugar, I hate high blood sugar, I hate turning into the hulk, I hate pressure, I hate....ok so there's a lot of things I hate.

But you know what I love.

What I absolutely adore.?

What I dedicate my whole entire life looking for....

That one sweet spot.

What's a sweet spot? Glad you asked. It's a spot on your body where you inject and feel nothing. No pain as the needle pierces through two layers of skin to get to the layer of fat. No feeling of pressure as you plunge the insulin into your body and it spreads itself amoung the fat. No pain as you take the needle out. And no weird cone look on your skin as the insulin fills in the pocket.

Nothing. Nada. Nine.

It's an amazing feeling. Stabbing yourself and feeling no pain. It's the goal everytime you shoot up. That wonderful, amazing, beautiful sweet spot. And when you find it, nothing can ruin your day...until the next mealtime. But still, for those however many hours, you're happy and feel like you can take on anything the world throws at you. It's major.

Usually when I find the sweet spot, it reminds me that this chronic illness that likes to play with death isn't so bad. I don't hate it quite as much. It doesn't control me, I control it. And most importantly it makes me giddy. That's how important that sweet spot is to me. And if it happens in the morning I always think, "Today is going to be a good day."

So that's what I search for, everyday. That sweet spot. It's sort of my body saying, "Hey, I'm sorry I kinda you know, killed the pancreas, but everything is going to be a-okay."

It's really those simple things after all.