What's the wierdest thing you ever did when your blood sugar got too low?
A couple of years back I woke up in the middle of the night and knew I was in trouble because I was swimming backstroke through a large puddle of perspiration. Jumped out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Stopped for a leak en route. When I got back to bed the woman of my dreams asked me why I'd been so long, but I shrugged it off because everybody knows that time moves a little strangely when you're a couple of points away from heaven.
The next morning I stopped at my study en route to the kitchen, only to find that I had used my bin as a receptacle for my midnight bladder evacuation. That was bad enough, but the wire bin in my office did not do a particularly great job of containing all the fluid!
Tuesday, 1 April 2008
Apples with worms...
When I was first diagnosed I overheard the specialist chatting to my mother about diabetes.
"Think of your son as an apple," he said, "all rosy on the outside, but with a worm on the inside." My prepubescent mind interpreted that to mean that my lifespan would not stretch much beyond 40 years old.
A few years later I read a novel featuring an old gent married to a young bride, living in an apartment in Florida, and running his "empire" using computers. (His bride falls in love with an architect worried about the apartment block being built on sand. His fear turns into reality as the entire structure is washed into the sea during a hurricane - carrying the old fellow and his computers to heaven, but leaving the bride free to marry our young hero.)
I was inspired by the concept of using computers in such a way, and the lifestyle seemed well suited to person destined to be as infirm as I obviously was going to be. Back in the early seventies PCs did not exist as they do now, and Jobs and Wozniak hadn't yet started to mess with diodes and the like.
I have found that one of the very real challenges with diabetes is that it can go so wrong so quickly. Wake up one morning and everything is just dandy. Catch a bug of some sort before lunch and by dinner your blood glucose is off the chart. This makes working as an employee (with the inflexibility that such a life demands) very challenging.
Sitting behind a PC screen, handling queries by email or through a forum, allows so much more flexibility. And when the BG starts down its own road, and I get the light nudge that indicates it is a tad on the low side, I can easily back off and relax awhile.
I don't know about you, and how you know that things are not quite the way God intended, but my low blood glucose events start with a light sensation that I am not quite all here: A slight sense of disassociation. A great time for some orange juice if the kids have not yet finished my private stash.
That will build slowly (depending on insulin levels, of course) into a full blown sense of paranoia. By this time I know that I am in trouble, but just cannot seem to find the will to do something about it. I'll usually start to dither - unable to make up my mind about what to do. Confronted with two solutions (OJ or some chocolate, for example) I will struggle to make up my mind which to choose.
I was at West Quay Mall in Southampton a few weeks back, with exactly this problem. I got the nudge at a coffee shop with a vast array of chocolate cakes and goodies neatly stacked in front of me. Which one to choose? That coconut thingie looks good, but maybe not enough sugar? And that fruity explosion looks fine as well, but maybe too much sugar. Don't want to overload because I will feel really crappy later. And so it went...
By now I know enough to ask for help, so I surprised the woman in the queue in front of me.
"I am diabetic, and I have the beginning of a diabetic medical emergency," I said, "and I need some cake but I am medically incapable of making a decision. Would you please choose any one for me? It doesn't matter which one, but please just choose one."
A startled look followed by "OK. Which one would you like?!"
Exactly the same happened when I appealed to the attendant behind the counter.
By now the paranoia was starting, and the impatience. Finally got somebody to select one.
I don't know about you, and your experience of the disease, but the worst part for me is the hour or so after a severe low blood glucose incident. I think we all experience it in a different way, but the immense waves of suicidal depression that wash over me as I get back to normal are hugely debilitating. Not only can I not work, but I sense my entire life's futility like a dark shadow hovering in the background ready to take me with it.
By now I can recognise the feeling, but I wonder what it must feel like to a diabetic newbie who has no idea where it is coming from.
"Think of your son as an apple," he said, "all rosy on the outside, but with a worm on the inside." My prepubescent mind interpreted that to mean that my lifespan would not stretch much beyond 40 years old.
A few years later I read a novel featuring an old gent married to a young bride, living in an apartment in Florida, and running his "empire" using computers. (His bride falls in love with an architect worried about the apartment block being built on sand. His fear turns into reality as the entire structure is washed into the sea during a hurricane - carrying the old fellow and his computers to heaven, but leaving the bride free to marry our young hero.)
I was inspired by the concept of using computers in such a way, and the lifestyle seemed well suited to person destined to be as infirm as I obviously was going to be. Back in the early seventies PCs did not exist as they do now, and Jobs and Wozniak hadn't yet started to mess with diodes and the like.
I have found that one of the very real challenges with diabetes is that it can go so wrong so quickly. Wake up one morning and everything is just dandy. Catch a bug of some sort before lunch and by dinner your blood glucose is off the chart. This makes working as an employee (with the inflexibility that such a life demands) very challenging.
Sitting behind a PC screen, handling queries by email or through a forum, allows so much more flexibility. And when the BG starts down its own road, and I get the light nudge that indicates it is a tad on the low side, I can easily back off and relax awhile.
I don't know about you, and how you know that things are not quite the way God intended, but my low blood glucose events start with a light sensation that I am not quite all here: A slight sense of disassociation. A great time for some orange juice if the kids have not yet finished my private stash.
That will build slowly (depending on insulin levels, of course) into a full blown sense of paranoia. By this time I know that I am in trouble, but just cannot seem to find the will to do something about it. I'll usually start to dither - unable to make up my mind about what to do. Confronted with two solutions (OJ or some chocolate, for example) I will struggle to make up my mind which to choose.
I was at West Quay Mall in Southampton a few weeks back, with exactly this problem. I got the nudge at a coffee shop with a vast array of chocolate cakes and goodies neatly stacked in front of me. Which one to choose? That coconut thingie looks good, but maybe not enough sugar? And that fruity explosion looks fine as well, but maybe too much sugar. Don't want to overload because I will feel really crappy later. And so it went...
By now I know enough to ask for help, so I surprised the woman in the queue in front of me.
"I am diabetic, and I have the beginning of a diabetic medical emergency," I said, "and I need some cake but I am medically incapable of making a decision. Would you please choose any one for me? It doesn't matter which one, but please just choose one."
A startled look followed by "OK. Which one would you like?!"
Exactly the same happened when I appealed to the attendant behind the counter.
By now the paranoia was starting, and the impatience. Finally got somebody to select one.
I don't know about you, and your experience of the disease, but the worst part for me is the hour or so after a severe low blood glucose incident. I think we all experience it in a different way, but the immense waves of suicidal depression that wash over me as I get back to normal are hugely debilitating. Not only can I not work, but I sense my entire life's futility like a dark shadow hovering in the background ready to take me with it.
By now I can recognise the feeling, but I wonder what it must feel like to a diabetic newbie who has no idea where it is coming from.
Sunday, 30 March 2008
Diabetes Mellitus - sweet pee
The Greeks had a way of making even the simplest concepts complex. Diabetes mellitus, for example, simply means sweet pee. (A more literal translation would be urine with a honey taste, honey being what the ancient Greeks used as a sweetener centuries before sugar came to Europe.)
Of course, being diagnosed at the age of 13, my first question was about how a Greek doctor actually went about diagnosing the disease. The concept of a taste-test seemed so yuck! Apparently they used ants? Back then it wasn't as though they needed to do the test too often as the disease was always terminal. And with most diabetics dying prior to reproducing they were few, and far between.
If you've done any reading on the subject you know that there are two basic forms of the disease, with a bunch of different names.
There is my version, IDDM (insulin dependent diabetes mellitus) also known as Type 1, also known as juvenile onset diabetes. And then there is Type 2, also known as adult onset diabetes. In both cases the main symptom is the same: sweet pee. And that's about the only thing they have in common. It's a crazy setup.
In my case my pancreas stopped producing insulin in 1971. I have no insulin, so I inject some every few hours. But for the Type 2 folk, they're producing too much insulin and their bodies are not using it properly. They take drugs to improve the efficiency of their own insulin, as well as inject the occasional jolt of insulin when ants start to take too keen an interest in them. And all of us have to watch what we eat. (A lot more about that later.)
Type 1 folk typically have a genetic idiosyncrasy that kicks in while they're still young. Nobody quite knows why the Type 2 folk get their version, other than a strong link with obesity.
Anyhow, that's about all I will ever have to say about Type 2 diabetes because I am not one. I will stick to my area of experience. (Not expertise, because I am not remotely expert at managing this beast, yet!)
Insulin, I understand, was the subject of a batch of tests to see how useful it might be as a truth serum. Turns out that as your blood glucose dips towards the very lower end, you lose your sense of humour and develop a little paranoia. You especially start to get very, very anxious and at this point are prepared to tell lies about your grandma in exchange for some chocolate.
Frankly, my kids will do that at any time that a bar of chocolate is on offer, and maybe that's why the scientists eventually opted for sodium pentothal.
Of course, being diagnosed at the age of 13, my first question was about how a Greek doctor actually went about diagnosing the disease. The concept of a taste-test seemed so yuck! Apparently they used ants? Back then it wasn't as though they needed to do the test too often as the disease was always terminal. And with most diabetics dying prior to reproducing they were few, and far between.
If you've done any reading on the subject you know that there are two basic forms of the disease, with a bunch of different names.
There is my version, IDDM (insulin dependent diabetes mellitus) also known as Type 1, also known as juvenile onset diabetes. And then there is Type 2, also known as adult onset diabetes. In both cases the main symptom is the same: sweet pee. And that's about the only thing they have in common. It's a crazy setup.
In my case my pancreas stopped producing insulin in 1971. I have no insulin, so I inject some every few hours. But for the Type 2 folk, they're producing too much insulin and their bodies are not using it properly. They take drugs to improve the efficiency of their own insulin, as well as inject the occasional jolt of insulin when ants start to take too keen an interest in them. And all of us have to watch what we eat. (A lot more about that later.)
Type 1 folk typically have a genetic idiosyncrasy that kicks in while they're still young. Nobody quite knows why the Type 2 folk get their version, other than a strong link with obesity.
Anyhow, that's about all I will ever have to say about Type 2 diabetes because I am not one. I will stick to my area of experience. (Not expertise, because I am not remotely expert at managing this beast, yet!)
Insulin, I understand, was the subject of a batch of tests to see how useful it might be as a truth serum. Turns out that as your blood glucose dips towards the very lower end, you lose your sense of humour and develop a little paranoia. You especially start to get very, very anxious and at this point are prepared to tell lies about your grandma in exchange for some chocolate.
Frankly, my kids will do that at any time that a bar of chocolate is on offer, and maybe that's why the scientists eventually opted for sodium pentothal.
Diabetic since 1971
I was chatting to someone a few nights ago and muttered that my blood sugar was running a tad low. He asked what it felt like. Despite a life of writing, of trying to describe issues exactly, I could not quite get the description right.
I mean, how do you describe to somebody who has only the vaguest notion of what a blood sugar is, that you know pretty exactly where yours is at any time? How do you describe that you do not do anything, ever, without first doing a mental calculation that kinda goes like this:
This is my effort to try and share some thoughts and feelings about this disease that has so impacted my life (for bad and good) and to try and share some of the stuff that I do not see being shared.
It's non-commercial, so I won't be selling anything, or advertising anything. But if I am able to add value to someone battling down this road, then it will be worthwhile. I am not a doctor (although I did spend two years at the University of Cape Town medical School way back in 1976/7) and nothing I write should be remotely construed as medical advice. I am simply sharing my experiences.
I mean, how do you describe to somebody who has only the vaguest notion of what a blood sugar is, that you know pretty exactly where yours is at any time? How do you describe that you do not do anything, ever, without first doing a mental calculation that kinda goes like this:
- What is my blood sugar right now?
- When was my last insulin injection, because that pesky fast stuff hangs around for 4 hours?
- How much insulin did I take, and how much effect will it still have?
- When did I last eat?
- What did I last eat?
- How much of that food is still being digested?
- What am I about to do?
- How much effect will hat have on my blood sugar?
- How far will I be away from sugar? From insulin?
This is my effort to try and share some thoughts and feelings about this disease that has so impacted my life (for bad and good) and to try and share some of the stuff that I do not see being shared.
It's non-commercial, so I won't be selling anything, or advertising anything. But if I am able to add value to someone battling down this road, then it will be worthwhile. I am not a doctor (although I did spend two years at the University of Cape Town medical School way back in 1976/7) and nothing I write should be remotely construed as medical advice. I am simply sharing my experiences.
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