12,775 times

I remember the first time I had to give myself a needle.  In the hospital, a few hours before I was going to be discharged as a newly minted diabetic (sorry, person with diabetes).  I was shaking, I was scared and I was so afraid of...I don't even know what I was afraid of but I sure as hell was afraid.  After a few moments of mild panic, I sucked it up, sat on the edge of the bed in my lovely hospital gown and somehow found the courage to stick myself. 

Nothing crazy happened except that I quickly lost my fear of needles.  I mastered doing it in fancy restaurants, standing in line for a hot dog, driving on the highway, in the pitch black northern Ontario night in a tent and in all sorts of other fun places. 

That last sentence sounds a lot more exciting than it really should...

Anyway, I did the multiple daily injection (MDI) thing for seven years before I tried the insulin pump.  When I was MDI-ing, I took slow acting insulin in the morning and at night and rapid acting with every meal.  That meant that the minimum was five needles per day.  Sometimes more if my sugar was high or I wanted a snack.

365 days per year x 7 years x 5 injections per day = 12,775 injections

Trust me, you get over your fear and shame pretty quickly when you have to do something that many times.

Speaking of getting used to things...

I can wake up in the middle of the night, find my glucometer, insert a test strip, prick my finger, get a drop of blood, and get said blood into the test strip all without turning on a light.  And I can tilt the glucometer screen to just the right angle to read the number by moonlight. 

I can guess my blood sugar to the decimal place. I can figure out how many fig newtons to eat when I'm low and then guess what my blood sugar will be an hour later. 

But I digress. The whole point of this blog entry was to talk about getting used to things. It was inspired by the rain that's been falling, the huge puddles all over the streets and the idea that I'm going to have to get used to running in the rain again.  Get used to putting my pump in a ziplock bag so it doesn't short circuit when I am completely soaked through.  Get used to peering through rain-coated glasses and putting a towel down on the car seat for the drive home. 

My non-running friend that I wrote about a few days ago would probably take this opportunity to ask why the hell anyone would want to run in the rain.

My answer , I hope, would elegantly capture the almost religious experience of it all.  The exhiliration of being a part of the weather rather than a witness to it. The sensual feeling that makes me think of standing under a waterfall.  The smell of an impending rain and how it is unlike anything else.  Those crazy runs that start off with dark clouds, have you running through a downpour and then end with glorious sunbeams bursting through the clouds. If you're really lucky, a double rainbow will appear to guide you home.

Unlike those needles I talked about, I never get used to running in the rain.  It's an adventure, an experience and a gift every single time.

Controlled Change

It's a bit of a weird Sunday.  Not bad weird, just not a typical Sunday.

Doug and I opted not to cycle this morning since it was just going to be the two of us and we are getting a bit sick of lugging the bikes and trainers through the snow.  I also opted out of yoga because I believe one needs to be in the mood for yoga and I most definitely was not.  I was much happier outside shovelling in the early morning quiet.  Birds were out, I could hear church bells ringing and there was a hint of warm spring breezes in the air.

My family (parents, youngest sister and grandmother) came over for brunch.  Three gourmet quiches were on the menu.  Chicken, blue cheese and broccoli for the first, smoked salmon and brie was second and a crustless (aka gluten free) vegetarian one was third.  Top it off with my mother's delicious gluten free sticky toffee pudding and I'm pretty sure Doug and I will be having a very very light dinner tonight. It was nice and comforting to have everyone over  We had pots of spring plants on the table and there was a sense of change in the air.  Winter is holding on, but only just.

I like change.  Anyone who takes even a passing glance at my life knows that change is not something I'm afraid of.  But some types of change make me uncomfortable.  Seasons are one of those changes.  I'm not sure why because I love all the seasons in Canada.  What happens though is that I get used to the season that we're in and can't imagine anything else.  When winter was coming, I couldn't believe how cold it could get and couldn't quite handle the idea of snow.  Now that we've been buried in winter for a few months, it's what I'm used to and I'm comfortable there.  I love the cold, I know how to dress, I love running on snowy mornings and can't imagine running in warm and humid weather.  When a spring breeze was on the menu today I didn't quite know what to do with it.

So I went out to shovel.

It gave me a feeling of control over the winter and the snow.  A bit of an exercise in futility since everything started melting soon after but it felt good to methodically push piles of snow around.

I like to arrange my Smarties by colour.  My morning routine is very routinized and extremely comforting and I really like shovelling snow.

I guess, upon reflection, I like change as long as there is some degree of control over some parts of my life.  So, as spring continues to do battle with winter and as magnolia trees start bursting with buds, I'm going to hold on to my routines a little more tightly.  A few weeks from now, when we're firmly entrenched in warm breezes and playing spot the crocuses, I'll be ready to embrace the new season.  In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy every snowflake!

Just a Bunch of Nutters

I had a friend over last night for a glass of wine and some tasty cheeses.  Oh, and some marinated artichokes too.

We have a lot of things in common, things that we don't share with a lot of other people, so our conversations tend to focus on those topics.  It's nice and comforting and we laugh a lot. Kindred spirits. Recently, she has started working out, doing step classes at the YMCA, that sort of thing.  She was really proud to tell me that she has started running.  Nothing crazy she was quick to add, just running five minutes at a time on the treadmill.  Still, I remember how hard it was to start running so I was impressed and very supportive.

Then she started asking me questions.  Simple, easy questions like "do you listen to music when you run?" and "why do you have to wear special running clothes?"  My answers seemed simple enough to me but they seemed to create more and more horror for her.

Yes, I listen to music.  I have about four hours of music on my Shuffle.  "Four hours?  When the hell would you need four hours of music?"  Well, I will probably run for at least 3 1/3 hours for Around the Bay so four hours seems safe.  "Safe??  3 hours? Is it safe to run for that long?  It can't be good for your body, can it? Have you talked to your doctor?  I really don't think that's a good idea."  Well, it is a long time and it's pretty hard.  I take care of myself though, getting massages and seeing my chiropractor to keep my shins, calves and feet from getting too bad.  "WHAT? You have problems from running?  I really don't think you should be running that much."

Moving on...

"Why do runners wear expensive running clothes?" Well, lots of reasons.  For me, chafing is a problem so I try to get high quality stuff to reduce chafing.  "CHAFING?? Why the hell would you run if you chafe?"  Um, well, I put Glide on and it's usually ok.  But the longer I run, the more spots chafe so there's always a spot that I miss.  No big deal, I just put some aloe vera on and learn for next time.  Some people chafe really badly.  Go stand at the finish line of a marathon and watch the number of guys run across the finish line with bloody nipples.  "Are you kidding? Runners are crazy!  Why do you do things that hurt like that? I just don't understand why you want to do it"

This went on for quite some time.

I'm used to talking to runners about running.  They get it.  Chafing, shin splints, pain, hydration, four hour playlists, going to bed a nine pm on a Friday night.  No big deal.

I'm also used to talking to people who are impressed with running.  They might not do it but they think it's amazing when people do.  The horror stories are cool for them.

I'm not used to defending myself.  I felt like I was representing our entire race of runners and doing a piss poor job of it.  I think my friend left thinking that she should stick to her weekly step classes and leave the running to the complete nutters of the world.

Sorry my running friends.  I tried!

Hurry Haaaarrrd!

Anyone watch curling last night?  Specifically the Scotties Tournament of Hearts?  Even more specifically, the match between Manitoba and Team Canada?  The stuff of movies that was.

First a quick curling lesson, then a quick synopsis of the story that lead up to the big game.

Curling teams have four players

First
Second
Vice
Skip

The First throws first, the Second throws second.  The Vice throws third and is also responsible for dealing with scoring disputes and helping the Skip determine what shots should be thrown.  The Skip is the team's captain.  They call the shots, the sweeping and throw the last two (and often most important) rocks.

The relationship between the Vice and the Skip is pretty critical and requires a lot of trust.  So it was surprising when the Vice (Cathy O) from Jennifer Jones' (Skip) winning team was asked to leave the team.  Particularly after the team had won the Nationals three years in a row.  No reasons given, at least to the press.  Just thank you very much goodbye.

Cathy O fought back, formed a new team and stepped up to take on the role of Skip.  They won their way across Manitoba and made it all the way to the Nationals (Scotties Tournament of Hearts) which have been playing all week.  And, as it goes in all good dramas, Cathy O's Team Manitoba came up against Jennifer Jones' Team Canada last night.  All eyes were on the drama about to unfold between the Team Canada princess and the Manitoba underdog.

To that point in the tournament, Team Manitoba had won 2 of 8 games.  Team Canada had won 6 of 8.  Not looking good for Cathy O.

One more little aside.  The tournament is being held in PEI.  The arena was packed for the game and it was pretty obvious that the land of red soil and tasty potatoes was backing the underdog.  Cathy of Green Gables was their hero.

It was the game of a lifetime.  Team Canada won the first end, making it 2:0.  In the second end, Cathy had to make a perfect shot or they would lose the second end and Jennifer would get five points.  Cathy made the shot and the fans went nuts. It only got crazier from there.  Back and forth it went.  Team Canada winning, Team Manitoba winning.  So very exciting.

By the last end (10), Cathy's team was ahead by 3 and it was clear that Team Canada was crumbling under the pressure.  The last rock hadn't even stopped moving when the chanting of "Cathy O", "Cathy O" began.

Cathy picked up her broom as well as Jennifer's.  She made her way across the ice and raised her hand to acknowledge the crowd.  Everyone watched as she shook Jennifer's hand and passed her the broom.  Something she probably did countless times when she was Vice.  A little touch of class from one tough lady.

How to Hold a Fork

Everyone has their little quirks.  Mine include, but are certainly not limited to:
- not having much depth perception so I go up and down stairs very deliberately for fear of falling,
- not being able to manipulate three dimensional shapes in my head (you know: look at the patterns and figure out which one would fold up into a box),
- getting hiccups when I eat raw carrots or crusty bread, and 
- completely freezing when someone says something is 'easy'.

"Oh c'mon, you can do it, it's easy" is pretty much a guarantee that I will lose whatever ability I have to complete the required task. Someone once asked me how I hold a fork.  I immediately forgot how to hold a fork. No kidding. They laughed and said it was a very easy question.  I spent the next two days second guessing myself every time I picked up a fork.

There is just something about that word that makes it anything but.

So, this is our Easy Week for running. 

That means run a nice, 'easy' 40 minute run on Tuesday and Thursday and a nice, 'easy' 10k on Saturday.  After the last few week of running craziness that should be a breeze non? 

I headed out last night for my first easy run of the week.  I was so pumped for it to be 'easy' that I thought I might just cheat and run 10k for fun. 

Who the hell was I kidding? 

My feet seemed to forget what to do, I got a blister on my ankle from the zipper on my pant legs (seriously?!?), my legs couldn't decided if they were just tight or developing shin splints and my energy level was the pits. 

My easy, effortless, bound down the street like a gazelle run turned into something akin to running through molasses with random bits of stuff thrown in to cause blisters where I've never developed blisters before. I came home exhausted, had dinner, burrowed under a blanket on the couch and was in bed asleep by 9:30pm.

Only two more easy runs before the hards ones start up again.  Thank goodness!!

Blood Spatter Analyst

I spent part of my morning at the Niagara Diabetes Centre.  I love going there because they always seem really happy to see me.  Perhaps because fit diabetics who take an active role in their diabetes maintenance are rare in Niagara, or maybe I'm just so damn cute, but my doctor and nurse are always pleased to see me.  Other staff will occasionally pop their heads in to ask about running or tell me about a cool website that I should check out. 

Aside from the social chatter and ego boost, I actually go there to get my quarterly blood work results and find out how I've been doing. 

Before I reveal the results, I thought this might be a good opportunity to provide a little diabetes lesson.  For those of you with the diabetes, it may be a good review.  For those of you without it, it may help clarify a few things.

Blood Glucose Testing: Ever seen a diabetic pull out a little contraption, prick their finger, put a drop of blood on a test strip and wait for a beep?  That's blood glucose testing.  What we're doing (in simple terms) is checking how much sugar is in our blood at that moment.  It helps us figure out why we might be feeling weird or what our number is because we need to calculate how much insulin to take for the meal we're about to eat. 

Someone without diabetes would have pretty stable numbers (betwee 4-6 normally) and these numbers wouldn't change much even after having a big piece of chocolate cake.  Trust me, I've tested people right after dessert - it's ridiculous how little their blood sugar changes. Someone with diabetes can see all sorts of crazy results. I've personally seen 1.2 (which is scary low and feels horrendous) and I've seen 30 (which is scary high and feels like a totally different kind of horrendous).  Sometimes we check to confirm what we already know, other times we check and are shocked by the results.  It's not always easy to feel how we're feeling.

I test fairly frequently - probably 10-12 times on any given day.  That may seem like a lot but it still means that there is a good part of every day when I don't know what my blood sugar is doing.  Is it climbing, dropping, staying still?  Hard to say. You can miss a lot of highs (and even some lows) simply by not testing at the right time.

(Aside: yes, there are continuous glucose monitoring devices out there but I've found them too expensive and too inconsistent for my lifestyle.)

So, to recap, blood glucose testing tells you what's going on at a given moment but not how you're doing overall.

That's where Haemoglobin A1C comes in.  This is a blood test that gives an average of our blood glucose level over the past few months.  Someone without diabetes would have an A1C of between 5.0 and 6.0.  Someone with diabetes has to set the bar a little higher than that depending on all sorts of other factors.

My doctor has me aiming for 7.0.  Anything lower would mean that I've had too many lows and anything around 8.0 is just too high.

Now, here's the trick.  I can get an A1C within range two different ways. First way: I can have lots of highs as long as I have lots of lows. Remember: A1C results are an average.  The second way is better and much less dangerous. Ideally, I get my A1C as close to 7.0 as possible without too many lows because that means that I didn't have too many highs either.  It takes a lot of monitoring, planning and control.  It's worth it in the long run because consistently good A1C results means lower risk of complications.  Not no risk but lower risk.  Heck, I'll take what I can get.

Today's result?  7.1

Yeah baby!

Journée de la famille

It's after noon and I'm still in my comfy clothes and nursing my second cup of coffee.  I'm watching the beautiful yellow and orange tulips that Doug brought home.  Every time I look up, they're more in bloom.  I may have to grab my camera to capture spring right here in my living room.

The snow has stopped, for now, and our little world is blanketed white again.

It's peaceful here.

I like peaceful. It gives me time to think.  Today, not surprisingly, I'm thinking about family.

My own family, my new family, my friends and their families, even fictional families from books that I have read and loved.

Some families just gel while others...not so much.  Being part of a family takes a lot of love and a lot of patience.  We don't typically get to choose our families the way we choose our friends.  And just because we share DNA doesn't mean that we were meant to be bosom buddies.

I am fully aware of how lucky I am.  I come from a family where unconditional love is the foundation upon which we've built amazing, strong, committed relationships.  It's safe there.  No matter what  announcement we have to make, road we've chosen or challenge we must face - my family will support, cheer or carry us through.  And through it all, we have a great ol' time and just enjoy each others' company.

My parents, still in love after 35 years. Still laughing, holding hands and inspiring all of us to be the best we can be.

My middle sister has moved across the world to be with the man she loves.  She inspires me to follow my heart while never losing sight of who I am.

My little sister is all grown up, strong, talented and fiercely independent.  She inspires me to take care of myself and try things that scare me.

Individually, we are strong. Together, we are fabulous!

Happy Family Day folks.