A Spoonful of Sugar

Yesterday was a bit of a disaster in terms of blood sugar (mis)management.

Roller-coaster doesn't even begin to describe the dramatic ups and downs.

18 and climbing an hour after breakfast for no apparent reason.

3.5 and dropped two hours after that, again for no apparent reason.

Four lows between lunch and dinner. Each treated with plenty of carbs. Each sending me up to 10 and then straight back down again. All with no insulin on board.

Rose beeped during dinner (which I did not bolus for despite many carbs worth of potatoes) to say that I was 3.1 and heading down again.

I got up from the dinner table, sweaty and shaking, to down two tablespoons of maple syrup.

Ten minutes later I felt fine again and was up at the sink drying and putting away the dishes.

"You don't have to help you know?" Doug said gently.

"I know. I felt awful a few minutes ago but I'm fine now that the syrup kicked in" I replied.

And that's when it hit me.

Diabetes can be pretty annoying sometimes but it sure doesn't take long to recover from the ups and downs of it. At least compared to some other things that cause us to feel crappy.

Strep throat? That sucks. Here, take these pills and hopefully you'll feel better in a few days.

Seasonal allergies? Too bad. Here, take these pills and eye drops and hopefully you won't feel too bad for the next three months.

Stomach bug? Yuck. Well, once you throw up a bunch of times and spend a few hours in the washroom, you might be ready for a few crackers and some ginger ale.

Low blood sugar? Here, have a spoonful or two of maple syrup, wait ten minutes and then get on with your day.

High blood sugar? Take some insulin and I bet you start to feel better within half an hour.

Highs and lows can be pretty dramatic but so can the recovery of those highs and lows.

One minute I'm shaking and sweaty, pale-faced and pretty much useless. The next I'm chatting away as I dry the dishes feeling no worse for wear.

Maybe that's why I get so impatient when I'm real people sick. I can't fix that crappy feeling with a spoonful of yummy tasting maple syrup.

Begetting

When I exercise regularly, which is most of the time, I look forward to exercising. On running mornings it's rare that I don't want to get up and run. On CoreFit and Tabata nights it's rare that I don't want to change, grab my mat and head across town for another crazy workout. When the little voice in my head suggests that it might be nice not to work out, the much louder one tells it to shhhh and there is rarely an argument.

Exercise begets more exercise.

For two weeks while I was sick, I did not exercise. At all.

This week, I'm back at it but only about 60%. I'm running but not quite as far and I'm back to CoreFit but only just. Swimming isn't even on the table yet.

The biggest lesson I learned is that not exercising begets even more not exercising.

The body gets used to whatever it does the most. When I exercise regularly, that becomes the norm and it is what my body knows and expects. It feels best when that pattern is maintained.

When I couldn't exercise, the first few days were tough. I felt awful but wanted desperately to go out for a run anyway. Didn't matter how long. Fifteen minutes was fine. I just wanted to move.

As every day went by, I became more and more comfortable not exercising and, in less than two weeks, not exercising became my new norm.

I knew I wanted to get back out there and run but it was my mind telling me to, not my body. My mind knew it was good for me. My mind knew that I would feel better and have more energy once I was moving regularly again. My mind knew I would use less insulin and have fewer highs once exercise was the routine.

My body was quite happy to sit on the couch after work. It was quite happy to sleep in until 6:30am, shower, eat and go to work. No 5am alarms.

I think I understand now how difficult it is for people to motivate themselves to exercise when they are not used to doing it. It's hard to get motivated. It's exhausting the first few times you do it and you're more tired afterwards. I don't think the endorphins come out to play for the first few weeks.

Only the fact that I know how good I'll feel once I get over the first few days gets me up when the alarm goes off. Only the fact that I have a vague memory of how much I love CoreFit convinces me to head out, in the dark, after work for a class.

For folks out there who are trying to find a way to motivate themselves to move more, here are my two cents for what they are worth. Use your mind to motivate you at the beginning - tell yourself all the reasons why it's important to walk, run, swim or whatever it is that appeals to you. Convince yourself of the value and talk yourself into moving. Once you get used to moving, your body will take over and motivate you to keep doing it.

Because, I have to say, it feels so darn good to be active. And the memory of feeling that good is what gets me moving again.

Thirty Minute Goal

Guess what I'm going to do this tomorrow? 

I'm going to go for a run. 

A 

Thirty

Minute

Run

No fuss. No muss. Just gonna tie on my shoes, head out the door and lope along my familiar thirty minute route. 

My goals? 

To not beak into an uncontrollable coughing fit partway through and be forced to walk home. 

To run the entire thing from start to finish. 

To feel good at the end. 

If it goes well, I might try the same damn thing on Sunday. 

If that goes well, I'm running 7k on Tuesday morning and, if the stars align, I'm back to CoreFit on Tuesday night. 

Swimming is going to have to wait another week I think. It's one thing to gasp my way through a run. It's another thing entirely to not be able to breathe 100% and to hop in the pool. 

This damn cold has dragged on for two weeks now but I'm definitely on the mend. I know because instead of feeling a desperate need to sleep, I'm feeling a growing need to move. 

She's baaaack! 

The Slow Road to Recovery

I feel like I'm heading into the confessional.

Dear friends,

It has been 11 days since my last CoreFit class.

It has also been 11 days since my last run - unless you want to count the 3k one I tried on Saturday morning.

It has been 10 days since I first started feeling a cold coming on.

As you might guess, I have not dipped one single toe into the pool.

If this continues much longer I'm going to start growing moss.

The worst diabetes day I have ever had didn't sideline me for more than a few hours. A day at the most.

Not 11 days.

Being real people sick sucks.

One positive thing is that I had decided not to run the Niagara Falls half marathon before I got sick. If I hadn't decided not to run, I would have been forced to decide not to run. That's never a fun position to be in. But the fact that I could not have done a long run last weekend or the weekend before would have forced me out of the running.

My goal for this week is to get better. To stop coughing incessantly all day and all night. To find some of my energy. To sleep through the night again.

I need to start moving again. My body does not like a sedentary lifestyle. One look at my insulin usage can tell you that. On a regular day, in a regular week, I use about 40 units of insulin. For the past 10 days, I have eaten less than I normally eat and yet averaged 51 units of insulin per day. It feels like all I have been doing is chasing highs.

I want to be able to try an easy half hour run on Tuesday. I want to be able to go to CoreFit on Thursday night. I want to be able to swim by next week.

Right now, none of those things are a good idea based on how aggressive my cough still is.

So I'm doing what I can to heal and waiting impatiently for the coughing gods to find someone else to annoy for a while.

Real People Sick

Last Friday afternoon I left work just before 2pm, headed home quickly to change and the Doug and I rushed off to meet friends for an end of season round of golf. It was sunny and crisp outside with brightly coloured leaves crunching underfoot as we walked. It was lovely and we had fun.

As we walked, my nose started running. Which made sense since it was kinda cold out. Just enough to need a constant supply of tissues for dabbing the nose drips. By the time we finished the game, it was pretty cold out. The warm air inside the clubhouse was a welcome relief but I went from sniffling to outright sneezing. I figured it was the temperature change wreaking havoc on my sinuses. 

I yawned my way through dinner despite animated company and delicious food. Wow, I must be tired after a long week at work. 

We came home, watched an episode of West Wing and I crawled into bed just after 9pm. As I lay my head down on the pillow, I noticed that my throat was feeling swollen, and a little sore. 

Oh dear. I think I'm getting real people sick. 

I woke up Saturday morning and knew at once that a cold was taking hold. While Doug headed out for his long run, I mustered up the energy to shower and make breakfast, doing my best not to sneeze or cough on anything. 

Sunday and Monday were pretty much the same. Heavy-headed, sneezing, sore throat and no energy. I managed to host a family Thanksgiving lunch as well as attend a family Thanksgiving dinner but, other than that, it was hot drinks and comfy socks for me. 

I didn't run all weekend despite some beautiful sunny days. I got my clothes ready for a Tuesday morning run but cancelled that after my fourth fitful night's sleep. Tuesday night CoreFit was also tossed out the window as I knew I wouldn't have the strength after a full day a work. 

You know, there are plenty of things I don't like about diabetes but, for the most part, I can handle the blood sugar roller coaster and still live the life I want to. Still do the activities I want to do when I want to do them. 

Give me a measly cold and I'm knocked out for four days, missing two runs and my favourite CoreFit class. It takes me days to find my energy again and a week to be back to where I was before I started sniffling. 

Being Real People Sick sucks. 

Give and Take

Last week, when I was sick with a cold, my blood sugar readings were higher than normal.

Which is perfectly normal. Frustrating as all get out but perfectly normal.

I'm sure it's a combination of a) I'm sick and b) I'm sick therefore I don't get up at 5am every day to run or swim.

Last Tuesday, when I woke up to a lovely 14.4 on my glucometer, I increased my basal rate to 120%.  After several hours, 120% did not seem to be having any effect whatsoever so I upped it to 130%.

On Wednesday and Thursday I had my basal rate set at 130%. All the time. I saw a 7 every so often, quite a few 8s and 9s but fewer 12s, 13s and 14s so I was ok with that. (FYI the 19s and 20s didn't start appearing until Friday). 

Thursday night, while we were heating up our dinner and I was figuring out how many carbs we were about to eat, it occurred to me that I was taking a lot more basal insulin than I normally do. Which means that my pump would run out of insulin a lot faster than it normally does. I knew I was supposed to run out of insulin on Friday evening but that was before I got sick.

Pump change day is pretty predictable because, unless something out of the ordinary happens, the insulin in my pump keeps me going for 6 days. Two weeks ago, I changed my infusion site on Saturday night so last week it was Friday night. Then this week it's Thursday etc etc.

So I checked how many units were left in the pump. There were 43 units left...which was exactly enough to get me to Friday evening.

???

I had just spent three days at 120% and 130% basal - there is no way I should have enough insulin left to last until Friday evening.

So I went into the pump menu to the option called Utilities. I then went into Daily Totals to see how much insulin I had been taking every day.

Normal days range between 47-50 units (a small window I know but, no matter what I eat, it just seems to work out that way).

The last three sick days were 48, 45 and 43 units. A little lower than normal.

That's when I realized that I hadn't been eating as much because my blood sugar was higher than normal. I didn't have my mid-morning and mid-afternoon snacks and I didn't have my pre-bed snack of pomegranate seeds or yogurt. No snacks means less bolusing which means that the extra basal I was taking was balanced out by fewer boluses.

A very interesting example of give and take.

Beating Back the Demons

It's fourteen days until Christmas.

Which means it's fifteen days until the Boxing Day Ten Miler.

The first weekend in December, I ran 12k. Last weekend, I was due to run 14k and next weekend I'm supposed to run 16k. Taper down to 10k the weekend after and then it's race day.

I ran 12k and then promptly got sick with a cold. I swam last Monday but didn't do any form of physical activity after than. Not until Sunday morning.

I was pretty much over my cold other than the left-over congestion that always takes a few days to work itself out. I was not however over the cold-induced blood sugar crazies. I have way too many examples of ridiculous, stubborn, crazy rabbit blood sugars from last week.  Examples like: I would eat my normal breakfast and take my normal insulin but then spike to 20 and stay there for hours despite repeated boluses and a 150% basal rate. Or examples like: I would be 6.0, I would eat a normal lunch and take a normal bolus and then be 22 two hours later. Hours of bolusing and water drinking finally resulted in a 7.0 before dinner - a meal where I steadfastly refused to eat anything remotely resembling a carbohydrate for fear of starting all over again.

Steak topped with onions and mushrooms makes a fabulous no-carb meal by the way...

So Sunday morning I woke up to a 3.8 blood sugar which, after the last few days, was fabulous. I had two glucose tabs (8 carbs) and bounced up to 7.0. Uh oh.

I wanted to run. I wanted to run 14k. But I didn't know if my body had the energy and I certainly didn't know what my blood sugar would do.

But I had to try.

I packed my running belt with lots of water, emergency carbs and my glucometer. I ate one gel (instead of one gel, a handful of raisins and some nutella) and I headed out the door. I didn't know if I'd be back after 1k, 5k, 10k or 14k. I planned an out and back route so I could turn around at any time and know exactly how far I had to run to get home.

I quickly discovered that my body was energetic after a week off but also kinda tired after being sick. I settled into a 6:15min/k pace and trotted down the street. Everything felt ok other than an annoying stuffiness in my head that required regular stops for decidedly un-ladylike nose-blowing.

At 5k, I checked my blood sugar and whispered "please" as the glucometer counted down. I was 8.6 ("thank you!"). I ate one pack of fruit chews (instead of fruit chews AND a gel) and ran 2 more kilometres. Seven down - time to turn around and head home. I was still feeling pretty energetic which was encouraging considering I had run 7k from home and was now committed to running the full 14k.

I checked again at 11k. I was 7.0 ("thank you!") and figured I could make it 3 more kilometres on that number. I was tiring by that point but still moving forward and doing much better than I had expected to be doing.

I finished 14k in 1 hour and 21 minutes with a blood sugar of 6.0.

Along the way, I managed to beat back the diabetes demons who had been hovering over my head all week. The ones who reminded me that the 'control' I normally have of my blood sugar is really only an illusion of control. That the best we can ever do is stay one step ahead of the demons but we can never really escape them. That one sick day, one stress day, one unexplainable crazy rabbit day can take days to recover from.

I probably spent 24 hours over 7 days with blood sugars in the 20s. Despite having insulin, a glucometer and a lot of diabetes knowledge at my disposal. Despite my best attempts to get those numbers down. What kind of damage was done? What long-term effects did last week contribute to? Maybe none. Maybe lots.

I left for my run feeling scared and beaten down after days of fighting against high blood sugar and fighting back my diabetes demons.

I returned exhausted but victorious. I had a firm grip on my blood sugars again and that grip stayed for the rest of the day. So much so that I made homemade chicken noodle (yes, carbs!) soup for dinner and had a cupcake snack for dessert.

I live to fight another day!

The Power of Colour

You know those lists that go something like this: you know you're a runner when...?

I have a new list I've just started. It begins with - You know you're getting over your cold when...

...you think you can manage to not sneeze or blow your nose for an hour and are willing to test that theory by painting your nails.

If that theory blows up, so does the nail job.

I risked it and ended up with some lovely nails proudly sporting Cocoa a Go Go. And yes, I do buy nail polish half for the colour and half for the name.

Here's the deal. A few years ago, I didn't wear nail polish. I also didn't wear makeup.

Now, I wear eye makeup pretty much every day and my nails more often than not are sporting a funky colour. I do this partly because I like it, which I freely admit, but partly because it keeps some of my nervous ticks at bay.

I discovered it purely by accident really. I used to bite my nails and pick at my fingers. I still do if you give me half a chance. When I had my nails done last year for my sister's wedding I discovered that I don't touch them when they are painted. I don't want to wreck the paint job. My nails actually grew and looked nice. So I kept going back for manicures...until I realized that was a crazy waste of money. Now, I have a collection of colours at the ready and do my own nails. When they're painted - I leave them alone. Take off the polish and I am right back at them again.

I discovered the same thing with eye makeup. I constantly rub my eyes which, particularly during cold season, is never a good idea. I just can't help it and the more I rub, the more I want to rub. Last fall I had my makeup done for my friend's wedding and realized at the end of the evening that I hadn't touched my eyes once. Didn't want to mess up the paint job. That, and the fact that I liked the look, inspired me to purchase a few items and figure out how to do it on my own.

So yes, while I do enjoy the look of eye makeup and nail polish, I also appreciate the role they play in keeping me in check. I know my weaknesses and I've found a way to easily deal with two of them.

Manicure done, trying valiantly not to sneeze...

Ginger Tea

On Monday morning I went swimming. We had a really challenging set that involved being tied up with pull cords followed by swimming 800m followed by being tied up again followed by another 600m. It was exhausting but I completed the workout feeling fine. Tired, but fine.

On Monday night I went curling. I was feeling tired but ok. We curled a six end game and, while we lost by a lot, I played one of my best games ever. I felt good.

We went to bed. I lay my head down and then sneezed. I sneezed again.

My throat immediately felt scratchy and my sinuses immediately plugged up.

Within seconds, I had a cold.

I'm sure those little cold germ buggers were hanging out in my system for a while before making themselves known but the onset of symptoms was quick and unmistakable.

So now it's Tuesday night.

I dragged myself through a full work day, participating as best as I could in meetings with a head full of cotton and the reflexes of a drugged rhinoceros. In between meetings, I pulled into Wal-Mart and picked up some cough drops, some day-time cold medicine, ginger and lemons. Let the battle of wills begin.

I do not take a lot of cold medication. Not because I'm all high and mighty about it and want to fight my cold using my own body's defences and nothing else. But because I have learned the hard way, repeatedly, that medications that make most people sleep turn me into an insomniac.

Tylenol Cold, nighttime, the one with the huge warnings on it about not driving heavy machinery - well  if I take it I could fly a plane across the Atlantic singlehandedly and probably not even blink the entire time.

Even Cold FX and echinacea keep me up. I googled that the last time I couldn't sleep and, apparently, those immune boosters do have that effect on a few lucky folks.

So I am allowed to take two daytime cold pills but the last one needs to be down my gullet before noon to allow it a good 8 hours to work its way out of my system. Which means, of course, that by about 4pm, I'm sneezing and coughing and feeling decidedly wretched with no medical options to turn to.

Hence the lemons and the ginger.

While homemade ginger tea probably doesn't do much to actually cure a cold, it goes a long way towards making me feel better.

Take lemon, ginger and honey. 

Peel ginger and drop into a small pot of water. Bring to a boil and simmer until it tastes gingery enough for you. 

Juice a lemon or two, depending on how lemon-y you like it. 

When the water is gingery enough, remove the ginger pieces and toss in the lemon juice. Add honey to taste. 

Stir it around and pour into your favourite mug 

Add a wee dram (or two) of the secret ingredient and enjoy.

Oh, it also helps to have an impish, perfectly healthy, charming little man to entertain you while you sip your tea.

To Flu Shot or Not to Flu Shot

There are certain topics that are triggers for people. Topics that, once raised, cause a person to immediately respond with a lot of emotion, sometimes anger and often a sense of self-righteousness.

Religion can do that to some people.

So can politics.

Mac versus PC.

Heck, even gas stoves versus electric can get some people fired up.

The topic that I have found to be one of the most volatile these days is...the flu shot.

(insert angry psycho music here)

Seriously folks. You have two options. You can get the flu shot. Or you can chose not to get the flu shot.

Neither choice is going to send you to hell or send others there. Neither choice is likely to harm the environment. Neither choice makes you a better person.

Yes, both choices have a slight chance of killing you. You can opt to have the shot and have a crazy allergic reaction to it and die right there in the waiting room. Odds are pretty good that you won't but there is always a chance.

You can also opt to not have the shot, get the flu and be one of the 8,000 people (in Canada anyway) who die every year from the flu.

Chances are though that, shot or no shot, you will survive the winter.

People have their own reasons for getting it or for not getting it. Many of them are based on fact. Many of them are based on superstition and misunderstanding.

• No, you can't get the flu from having the flu shot (the virus is dead).
• Yes, you can get the flu minutes, hours or days after having the shot (which probably just means you were already infected but not showing symptoms yet - it doesn't mean that you were accidentally injected with a live virus by an incompetent nurse). 
• Yes, you can get the flu weeks or months having the flu shot (there are many different strains of flu out there - they don't vaccinate us against all of them).

Everyone needs to make their own choice. 

Whatever that choice is, please RELAX when you hear mention of annual flu shots. Don't get your knickers in a knot if a schedule of flu shot clinics is posted at work and you don't want to get a shot. And don't get all high and mighty if you choose to get the shot and other people don't. 

Let's all just try to get along shall we? 

That being said, in the interest of full disclosure, I choose to get the shot every year and am one of the first in line. I have type 1 diabetes. That puts me immediately in the high risk category and, when there are flu shot shortages, I still get to go to the front of the line. I take that pretty seriously. 

I also really really don't like getting sick. It feels yucky and it wreaks havoc on my blood sugars and my body. So, if I can have a vaccine that may help prevent me from catching the flu this season - sign me up. 

I promise though, that if you choose not to head to your nearest pharmacy, doctor or flu shot clinic, I will not judge, I will not preach and I will not get my knickers in a knot. Kindly please do the same for me. 

Not So Elementary My Dear Watson

So it's been a weird few days in blood sugar land. Not crazy rabbit weird though. More like Sherlock Holmes weird.

Something was very very off and the challenge was to figure out what exactly that was.

On Saturday morning, I did the time trial at the pool and mentioned that, for the rest of the day, I was fighting highs.

I kept hovering around 13. I took a correction bolus and, an hour later, was 13. Then I took a double dose (enough to cause a pretty serious low). An hour later, I was still 13.

I managed to get it down to 9 by dinner and took three times the amount of insulin I should have for the meal. Two hours later, I was 13. I double-corrected and went to bed.

At midnight, I was 14. I double corrected again.
At 4am I was 7.6 (thank goodness)
At 6am I was 6.7
At 8:30am I was 4.2

I had a 10k run to do so I took one gel and a small box of raisins. It wasn't really enough carbs for that long of a run but I was willing to risk a low to avoid a high.

After 10k, I was 12.9 instead of the 4-5 I should have been. Everything seemed ok with my pump. No air bubbles etc and my blood sugar was coming down, albeit slowly, so I didn't think my insulin was the problem.

I took a full bolus (which I never do after a run) for chocolate milk and a few graham crackers. I waited 40 minutes before eating it (which I would never ever do after a run) and then I checked an hour later. I was 10 which was promising.

An hour after that, I was 19.8 and was now showing mild ketones.

Bah!

We were getting ready for lunch and I did need to eat something so I decided to experiment. I entered my blood sugar and 20 carbs in my pump and it told me to take 7 units. I then cancelled it and pulled out my old trusty needle. I took 10 units the ol'fashioned way.

I figured if my pump or my insulin was the problem, then using the needle would solve it. If I was still ridiculously high, there was something else going on.

When I checked 30 minutes later, I was 18.4 so I decided to change my pump - might as well fix one of the variables right?

I then checked my blood sugar every 30 minutes for 4 hours. Here is what happened.

1. 18.4
2. 16.3
3. 8.3 (uh oh - dropped fast)
4. 9.6 (damnit! I bolused again)
5. 6.0
6. 5.7 (I ate 20 carbs)
7. 4.7
8. 3.9 (just in time for dinner)

Things were fine after dinner and during the night. Perfect - I solved it!

Monday morning I was 4.2. I had a small box of raisins and headed to the pool for my regular workout. I did the same routine I always do. No variations whatsoever. After the swim, instead of my usual 6-7 BG, I was 14.8.

Double bah!!

I bolused for breakfast and a hefty correction dose, waited 30 minutes before eating and was fine for the rest of the day. Still, there is something weird going on.

These things always settle and the process of figuring out what the problem is can be fascinating on a purely scientific level. The fact that it's wreaking havoc on my body while I figure it out is not so fun.

Diabetes vs Real People Sick

Well, after a week of feeling pretty damn awful, I can officially announce that I am over the cold from hell.

I am now almost 100% healthy again...

...well, except for that chronic disease that seems to always be hanging around.

I had a lot of time to think over the past few days (in between fits of coughing) and I spent some time comparing being diabetes sick to being real people sick.

Diabetes is never-ending (hence the term chronic).  It's like a barnacle that takes hold and never ever lets go.

The thing with barnacles is (according to the humpback whales I interviewed for this story) you get used to them.  Sure, they affect your ability to swim.  Sure, they're itchy sometimes.  But if you get over the fact that they're always there and will sometimes slow you down, they're relatively easy to live with.  In fact, after a while, you even start forgetting about them for little bits of time.

Real people sick is different.  When a cold or flu does strike, it totally sucks.  You feel that tickle in your throat and you think "no, No, NOOOOO!!!!.  I don't want to be sick!"  You start sucking back vitamin C and anything else that people tell you to try but it's no use.  You get all stubbed ub and can't tahk white. Having a cold disrupts work routines and it disrupts exercise regimes.  Food becomes tasteless and sleeping for more than an hour at a time becomes nigh on impossible.  For days.  Everything revolves around the fact that you feel crappy.

In fact, I decided at one point that I would take diabetes any day over being real people sick.  If I could never have a cold or flu again - I'd take diabetes.  Without a doubt.

And then my blood sugar dropped to 1.8.

And I drank two juice boxes.

And tested again.

And it was 1.9.

So I drank two more.

And tested again.

And finally it was 3.1

That's when I realized that I was wrong.  I do not prefer diabetes to cold and flus. Yes, colds and flus are really annoying and they make people feel really crappy for a while.

But diabetes is scary.  It's unpredictable.  And it's deadly.

And just because we get used to it doesn't mean it's not any of those things.

One. point. eight.

Oh. my. god.

A Mess of Bubbles

"Well the good news is that it's not strep" said the nice doctor at the walk in clinic.

I had been kinda hoping it was because then at least there would be medication I could take that would start the healing process and kill the pain.  Nine am on Sunday morning and I was the first person at the clinic after a night of gargling with salt water and fits of rather painful coughing.  After hours of feeling like I was swallowing shards of glass I finally got up at 1am to check the walk-in clinic times and research do it yourself remedies for strep.  Gargle with salt water and take acetaminophen were the recommendations.  I did and managed to snag about three hours of fitful sleep.

"I'm going to prescribe a gargle for you.  It's very important that you use it exactly as I tell you to.  Gargle for four minutes.  Set a timer.  Do it right before you're about to eat your next meal.  Spit out the gargle, eat your meal and then don't eat again until the next meal.  No snacking."

"Well, that may be a problem because I have type one diabetes.  If my blood sugar drops I have to eat.  Is there a problem with eating?"

"Type one diabetes?  Well, you shouldn't have to eat between meals just because you have diabetes."

"If my blood sugar drops too low I most certainly do have to eat something."

"Does your blood sugar drop between meals?"

"It could.  One never knows when these things are going to happen."

"Well, if you need to eat, of course you can eat.  But if you don't gargle first it's going to hurt.  And yes, you're still contagious so don't go kissing anyone."

Sad. Day.

So I left the doctor who was very kind but didn't seem to be up to speed on his diabetes lore and headed to the clinic pharmacy to have my prescription filled.

The pharmacist handed it to me and told me to gargle for as long as I could.  "The doctor told me four minutes.  Does that make sense?"

"That sounds about right" he replied. Followed by "now you need to wait at least 30 minutes after you gargle before eating."

"Ummmm, the doctor told me to eat right after I gargle."

"That is not recommended.  It numbs your throat so there is a risk of choking."

So I plodded home with my gargle in tow.  I set the timer on the microwave, poured two teaspoons of green liquid into my mouth, tilted my head back and began.  My plan was to gargle until I ran out of oxygen, tilt my head down, inhale, tilt head back and carry on.  Repeat as necessary for four minutes.

No one mentioned that the stuff bubbles like crazy.  Within about five seconds it was erupting out of my mouth like Mount Vesuvius on a bad day.  I ended up having to put a paper towel over my mouth so that I wasn't completely covered in green bubbles.  The prescribed amount lasted precisely 2 minutes and 30 seconds before completely evaporating into bubbles.  By that point my lips were numb and my throat was numb.  Kinda nice after the pain I was in but I figured I had better wait 30 minutes before drinking my coffee...just in case.

No point in burning myself right?