I've mentioned before how the insulin gives me weird dreams almost every night. Well, now things are getting a little meta for me because I've been dreaming about my insulin!
I've had a few dreams where I've taken my blood sugar or have felt a "low" while performing some task. But last night, I actually dreamed about giving myself the insulin shot. It would've been even more bizarre had my dream insulin given me a weird dream WITHIN my weird dream ... sort of like the Inception of diabetes management!
I guess my diabetes is on my mind a lot, as it should be. That's what is keeping me healthy, that I'm trying to be mindful and responsible. And I have been thinking about the insulin because I might be going off of it in a few weeks. I see my doctor in early October and if my numbers hold up, she'll start me on my way to being insulin-free.
Truthfully, I have mixed feelings about this. Obviously, it would be great if my body can function sans insulin shots and I can stay healthy by eating well and exercising. But I'm nervous that going off the insulin will cause a setback. I don't want to feel sick and run down again, or thirsty, or experince blurry vision. I like feeling energized and happy. I've been taking care of myself, but the insulin is my lifeline. It's what kept me from having to be hospitalized back in August.
I guess if my numbers don't stay in a good place, I can always go back on insulin. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, not if it helps me sustain my health. I guess I should discuss these fears with my doctor.
Meantime, I'll continue to exercise, eat well and watch myself ... and if that includes minding my health in my dreams, so be it.
Showing posts with label insulin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label insulin. Show all posts
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Holding Steady And Trippin' Out
My blood sugar seems to finally be stabilizing. During my first week on insulin, my sugar would sometimes fluctuate from 400 to 200 and back again. Now, however, it's hovering around the low 100s with occasional dips into the 90s and even 80s. A friend and I went for a walk tonight after dinner and my blood sugar managed to stay the same, even after the exercise. It was nice to be able to get a little workout in and not feel that "low" afterward, as I did when I went swimming this past weekend.
My vision is also starting to improve. I'm seeing an eye specialist on Friday and it'll be funny if I can once again see perfectly well by then. Still, I know that it's important to get my vision checked, anyway. Honestly, out of all the things that could go wrong from diabetes, losing my sight freaks me out the most. I'm a very visual person, who also happens to be a writer and jewelry maker. I can deal with having to wear glasses, but I am frightened that I'll eventually go blind. That said, I plan to see the eye doctor every few months.
Meanwhile, I've been having a lot of weird "visions" at night. Since I've been taking insulin, I've had some very odd, vivid dreams that feature bright colors. In one, my parents were hosting a huge dinner party for The Beatles and I was hoping that I'd get to play my flute with them. In another, my sister-in-law and her husband took me out to dinner, then abandoned me so that they could sit in the "all naked" section. Then last night, I dreamed that we were visiting a haunted ruin that housed rabid cats. I've never done drugs, but I imagine that this is what it feels like to drop acid.
I wondered if I'm the only diabetic who's experienced this so I did a search and it turns out that insulin dreams are fairly common. I can't say I mind. I love dreams and even kept a dream diary for a while; it's kind of like getting to see a surprise movie in your sleep. So this is a side effect that I welcome -- The Beatles can visit me anytime!
Some may read this blog and get the impression that I think my diabetes is a joke since I make fun of it so much. I really don't think that. However, I do have to maintain my sense of humor as I deal with this. Besides, laughing lowers blood sugar, so it's all good.
My vision is also starting to improve. I'm seeing an eye specialist on Friday and it'll be funny if I can once again see perfectly well by then. Still, I know that it's important to get my vision checked, anyway. Honestly, out of all the things that could go wrong from diabetes, losing my sight freaks me out the most. I'm a very visual person, who also happens to be a writer and jewelry maker. I can deal with having to wear glasses, but I am frightened that I'll eventually go blind. That said, I plan to see the eye doctor every few months.
Meanwhile, I've been having a lot of weird "visions" at night. Since I've been taking insulin, I've had some very odd, vivid dreams that feature bright colors. In one, my parents were hosting a huge dinner party for The Beatles and I was hoping that I'd get to play my flute with them. In another, my sister-in-law and her husband took me out to dinner, then abandoned me so that they could sit in the "all naked" section. Then last night, I dreamed that we were visiting a haunted ruin that housed rabid cats. I've never done drugs, but I imagine that this is what it feels like to drop acid.
I wondered if I'm the only diabetic who's experienced this so I did a search and it turns out that insulin dreams are fairly common. I can't say I mind. I love dreams and even kept a dream diary for a while; it's kind of like getting to see a surprise movie in your sleep. So this is a side effect that I welcome -- The Beatles can visit me anytime!
Some may read this blog and get the impression that I think my diabetes is a joke since I make fun of it so much. I really don't think that. However, I do have to maintain my sense of humor as I deal with this. Besides, laughing lowers blood sugar, so it's all good.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The Dreaded Diagnosis
I expected to get bad news at my last doctor visit, but I was shocked when I was told just how bad my situation was: blood sugar over 400, high cholesterol, high triglycerides, fatty liver. Yikes. Yep, I had Type II diabetes and, the doctor warned, I was thisclose to having to be hospitalized. My heart -- which, at this point, I was amazed was still beating -- caught in my throat, and I felt as if I were coming apart at the seams. Still, I kept calm and somehow managed to keep it together as I was shown how to test my blood sugar and how to inject myself with insulin. However, as I later left the office, I broke down on a park bench. I knew that my life would never be the same, and that I was partially responsible.
Oh, I don't blame myself for getting the disease, but I do wish I'd taken better care of myself for the past few years. I don't smoke and I'm not a big drinker, but I have a checkered relationship with food. I was a skinny teen with a history of eating disorders, and then chubbed out in college. Fast forward to my adult years (I'm now 37) and I became morbidly obese. I'd diet, lose weight, binge, gain weight, diet, lose weight ... you get the picture. I'm a statistic in the dieting world, one of the 95 percent who manages to gain back the lost weight and then some.
I thought I'd finally broken the cycle a few years ago when I lost 100 pounds and completed a 20-mile walk. Unfortunately, the weight slowly came back on; then last year, I broke my leg and needed surgery. I could walk after three months and did PT, but my leg was still weak and sore for a long time afterward. I was inactive for nearly a year and ended up reaching my highest weight ever. I could barely walk -- not from the leg -- but from simply weighing so much. It was a nightmare.
I finally began to lose weight last spring when we visited Greece. I'd walk a block and have to sit down to rest, but I managed to walk all over Athens and even climbed up to the Parthenon. In the 10 days we were there, I lost about 10 pounds (fat people lose a lot of weight at first). I thought I was on my way to good health once again.
Then I got sick.
It started out with a really bad cold. I figured that I got it on the plane home, but this cold just wouldn't go away. Then came the thirst. I'm not talking the type of thirst you have after you've eaten something spicy; this was a full body thirst. I wanted icy, cold drinks and couldn't get enough of them -- the colder, the better. I seriously dreamed of jumping into a pool filled with strawberry smoothies. My body was hot and dry, and the only times I felt good were when I took a cold shower or took a dip in a cold pool.
Of course, drinking so much meant I had to use the facilities. All the time. Urgently. I had near accidents in the supermarket, on the bus and in Central Park. Of course, I was up all night because I had to go every hour, sometimes more. Because I wasn't sleeping, I was tired -- all the time.
I eventually ended up with another horrible cold, this one worse than the other. I lost my voice, my vision went blurry and I had no appetite. I knew that something was wrong and I was pretty certain that it was the big D. I'd made an appointment with an endocrinologist, but it was a few weeks away. I stupidly figured that I could wait. Besides, I was began to feel better. Knowing that I probably had diabetes, I tried to eat better foods and cut out sugars and some carbs. My husband and I even took a trip to the Poconos, where we enjoyed an active weekend swimming and boating.
Finally, I saw the doctor and she delivered the bad news. As bad as it was, though, it was a relief to get the diagnosis and know that help was on the way.
So far, things have improved greatly. My blood sugar is now down in the 100s (it even hit 96 the other night) and I have more energy. I'm sleeping better and no longer have that horrible thirst. I'm also training for a diabetes walk and have completely overhauled my diet.
This is the beginning of my journey, but I hope that as I go along, my health will get better. I hope that my story will inspire people to take care of themselves and get checked out if they suspect that something is wrong. As for me, I have to do whatever it takes to get well. I don't have a choice: it's do or die -- literally.
Oh, I don't blame myself for getting the disease, but I do wish I'd taken better care of myself for the past few years. I don't smoke and I'm not a big drinker, but I have a checkered relationship with food. I was a skinny teen with a history of eating disorders, and then chubbed out in college. Fast forward to my adult years (I'm now 37) and I became morbidly obese. I'd diet, lose weight, binge, gain weight, diet, lose weight ... you get the picture. I'm a statistic in the dieting world, one of the 95 percent who manages to gain back the lost weight and then some.
I thought I'd finally broken the cycle a few years ago when I lost 100 pounds and completed a 20-mile walk. Unfortunately, the weight slowly came back on; then last year, I broke my leg and needed surgery. I could walk after three months and did PT, but my leg was still weak and sore for a long time afterward. I was inactive for nearly a year and ended up reaching my highest weight ever. I could barely walk -- not from the leg -- but from simply weighing so much. It was a nightmare.
I finally began to lose weight last spring when we visited Greece. I'd walk a block and have to sit down to rest, but I managed to walk all over Athens and even climbed up to the Parthenon. In the 10 days we were there, I lost about 10 pounds (fat people lose a lot of weight at first). I thought I was on my way to good health once again.
Then I got sick.
It started out with a really bad cold. I figured that I got it on the plane home, but this cold just wouldn't go away. Then came the thirst. I'm not talking the type of thirst you have after you've eaten something spicy; this was a full body thirst. I wanted icy, cold drinks and couldn't get enough of them -- the colder, the better. I seriously dreamed of jumping into a pool filled with strawberry smoothies. My body was hot and dry, and the only times I felt good were when I took a cold shower or took a dip in a cold pool.
Of course, drinking so much meant I had to use the facilities. All the time. Urgently. I had near accidents in the supermarket, on the bus and in Central Park. Of course, I was up all night because I had to go every hour, sometimes more. Because I wasn't sleeping, I was tired -- all the time.
I eventually ended up with another horrible cold, this one worse than the other. I lost my voice, my vision went blurry and I had no appetite. I knew that something was wrong and I was pretty certain that it was the big D. I'd made an appointment with an endocrinologist, but it was a few weeks away. I stupidly figured that I could wait. Besides, I was began to feel better. Knowing that I probably had diabetes, I tried to eat better foods and cut out sugars and some carbs. My husband and I even took a trip to the Poconos, where we enjoyed an active weekend swimming and boating.
Finally, I saw the doctor and she delivered the bad news. As bad as it was, though, it was a relief to get the diagnosis and know that help was on the way.
So far, things have improved greatly. My blood sugar is now down in the 100s (it even hit 96 the other night) and I have more energy. I'm sleeping better and no longer have that horrible thirst. I'm also training for a diabetes walk and have completely overhauled my diet.
This is the beginning of my journey, but I hope that as I go along, my health will get better. I hope that my story will inspire people to take care of themselves and get checked out if they suspect that something is wrong. As for me, I have to do whatever it takes to get well. I don't have a choice: it's do or die -- literally.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)