Sugar, but no spice

After about 6 months of taking diabetes meds and 5 months of using a glucometer, I finally got the "yes, you have diabetes" news yesterday. I think I've already gone through all the Kubler-Ross stages, starting back in July and August, just not in order.

Denial: Call from my Gyn's office: Your blood sugar was elevated. You need to see your doctor about managing your diabetes. Me: I don't have diabetes.

Anger: Just get me started talking about visits to my former primary care doctor, and asking for a referral for diabetes education. Someone facing major life changes doesn't need to be told: "You can eat five candy bars a day, so long as you keep losing weight, and you'll probably be fine." There was also the reassurance that I could be back to eating cheeseburgers again soon...

Depression: Learning that being diagnosed with diabetes is, in cardiac risk terms, the same as "having your first heart attack." Drat.

Bargaining: OK, God. I've lost the pounds and tried to regulate my diet (& my life.) Can I please, please avoid this (after all, the 5-candy-bar-a-day-doctor said I'd probably just stay at pre-diabetes...)

Acceptance: I think that's what I'm feeling today.

I'm sure I'll re-visit the stages a few more times. I'm grateful that this was caught very early and that there are so many resources available to help manage type 2 diabetes.

Thanks to those who have asked after my health, prayed for me (& for Izzy as he has dealt with the uncertainty), etc.

Our New Normal

Izzy announced last week via Ping/Twitter/Facebook/Livejournal that he had been diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. One of my sisters immediately responded on FB asking when he was planning to tell the rest of his family. He replied that by posting on a social network, he HAD informed folks. (NB, I don't know if Momala and Pop have been called - he's not here right now to ask.)

Unlike Izzy, I confined my announcements/updates to the smaller audience of this blog, back when I was in the pre-diabetes/newly-diagnosed stages. (Samples posts here and here and here.) I was freaking out a bit, and worried about how people would respond. Izzy is, and always has been, much more "out there."

We're known that this was coming for a while based on symptoms, family history, visual changes, etc. During our beach trip last December/January (here and here), Izzy was feeling a bit shaky as we entered a restaurant. After checking my blood sugar, I looked over and said "Your turn." As he later tweeted, he had a reading and a re-check over 200, and a nearly 300 reading 2 hours post-prandially. That's diagnostic. Welcome to the d-life.

His reaction was to skip most of the Kubler-Ross stages, and go pretty much straight to acceptance. Appointments were made, and he was officially diagnosed and given a couple of meters. He has been assessing the effects of his intake on blood sugar readings. Eye and diabetes education/nutrition appointments are pending. I am so grateful that we both have good insurance for meters, test strips, etc. I've had good success in managing this condition and have lab values where they need to be. I'm certain that Izzy will soon have these, as well.

Diabetes is yet another thing we share, like our Catholic faith, tri-lingual puns, Jesus Music oldies, similar motorcycle helmets, and love of Italian food*. We're working on the best ways to lower carbs counts for the latter, even as I look for what will be the perfect low-carb pie/pie crust recipe that does not include an artificial sweeteners (which Izzy really dislikes.)

For better, for worse, in sickness and in health...

*List is not all-inclusive; there's also the cat, Monty Python, the beach in winter ....

I'm 59

(Update at the bottom)

Or so reads the result I got from one of those quizzes to which I was directed (they want to sell you a life plan, I think, so I used one of my disposable Yahoo eddresses.)

Things that make my "real age" younger:

• Good sleep levels
• Limited or no secondhand smoke exposure
• Parents relationship
• Medication use
• Happy marriage (or so I claimed on the quiz, smile)
• Low red meat intake
• Folic acid intake
• Daily vitamin
• Education level
• Diabetes control
• Ideal BMI (yay!)
• Vehicle size
• Good oral hygiene
• Safety belt or airbag usage
• Nonsmoker
• Alcohol (how much can I have? I want to live lots longer!)
• Daily breakfast
• Ideal blood pressure (yay, again)
• Diverse diet
• No ovarian cancer in family
• Maintain total cholesterol level

Amongst the things listed that made my "real age" older, were the following:

• Low fruit servings

Did I mention the diabetes?

• Family history of breast cancer

Not the diabetes? Really?

• Calcium intake
• Vitamin E intake
• Vitamin C intake

I couldn't recall how much of these I take each day, and so I guess I didn't get credit for taking them.

and finally:

• Dog ownership

I don't recall the question. I wonder if (1) I accidentally answered "Yes" to something and thus am losing valuable lifespan for having a dog, or if (2) I lose valuable lifespan for NOT having a dog.

Anyhow, these folks think I'm already 59. That certainly explains the fatigue of late. Maybe I can take my quiz results to the coffee shop or the movies and get a discount.

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I tried it again, this time adding in the vitamin and mineral count. Looks like I dropped to 55.4 years old. Still works for the senior discount at Hardees and Belk.

Izzy came out 1.8 years younger than his actual age. He's considering taking up smoking or eating more red meat so as to not outlive our meager savings....They suggest he spend more time riding in a large car. Anyone out there see that happening??

World Diabetes Day

It's apparently been World Diabetes Day all day long. I can't say I celebrated. Here's what I might have done had I known all day.

• Said "Thanks" to the Dells who volunteer their time to help raise money for diabetes research.
• Followed my diet and medication regimens (oh -- did that!)
• Gotten to bed on time, since sufficient sleep is important for sugar regulation.

Best take care of that now.

When HIPAA doesn't apply

1. In investigations of contagious diseases reportable under state law (what I do all day.)

2. When your beloved wants to be sure that people are praying for you (what Izzy did this AM.)

I got home yesterday, having heard interesting news. My new doctor, after saying that "this has been quite a day for you," added that I'd walked in as a relatively healthy young woman (she said "young"--gotta keep this doc), but would be walking out with diabetes and heart problems.

We scheduled a nuclear stress test for today and a five hour glucose tolerance test for Tuesday. I heard left axial deviation and non-specific ST wave (?) inversion, but that may not be what the tests find. Until I get more info, I'm not going to stress about the "what-ifs."

Normal life resumes tomorrow. There's a big inter-agency Pan Flu meeting on school closure, a communal reconciliation service, shopping for yet another bday party (B3D2 is turning 8) and writing a Christmas letter.

And dishes to do NOW.

Izzy's note:

Some of you (especially the ones who keep up with her blog) know that [Lizzie] has been taking a glucophage and sticking herself several times a day to take readings. She has officially been pre-diabetic for several months. The good news has been that, in carefully managing her diet, she has lost some weight and has been taking great delight in bringing old friends out of the back of the closet.

Yesterday she had a follow-up appointment in which her dx was officially changed. Her glucometer ratted her out, and she is now officially diabetic (type 2). They did several other sorts of tests while she was there yesterday, and she found out about the change of diagnosis in a one-two punch. "Congratulations," the doctor said, "you came in today a healthy woman, and are leaving with diabetes and heart disease."

It seems there's a problem in her T-wave. They're making her go back in today for a five-hour battery of cardio stuff, stress tests and whatnot. I'll be giving four classes exams, so she'll be down there alone with her thoughts and worries (and those of you who know her know how she worries).

So we'd appreciate prayers for peace today.

Pax Dei custodiat cor et intelligentiam eius in Christo Jesu.

Pax etiam vobis omnibus,

[Izzy]

This is some kinda guy... 8-) Thanks for the prayers, they really worked.

Can you lie on TV?

So, Izzy and I are sitting here watching "the Wonder Years," when a commercial comes on there an announcer reads:

Eat all you want and still lose weight.

Eat all you want and still lose weight!

And remember, we couldn't say it on TV if it wasn't true!

(In case we weren't sure what we were hearing, the letters flashed up on the screen.) Here's a screen shot from their website:



So, what might be wrong with these claims?

Claim 2: We couldn't say it on TV if it wasn't true!
a. ... if it weren't true... (grrr---Would that there were more subjunctive police.)
b. If you've ever seen "Believers' Voice of Victory,"you'll know that you can spout all sorts of bogus stuff on TV.
c. Addressing the logic side of things, if Claim 1 is proved false, then Claim 2 becomes false.

Claim 1: Eat all you want and still lose weight
a. This brief commercial for a new wonder supplement was followed by a full minute of advertising for Jenny Craig. Then two other commercials for diabetes-related products. (What does this say about the audience for "The Wonder Years?")
b. So, even the Ion network doesn't think that this needs to be their only source of weight-loss advertising.

From their website: "These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration." So, if not the FDA, who exactly polices what can be claimed on TV? Turns out, pretty much no one, so long as your product is marketed as a dietary supplement. I wonder what-all they'd have to put in the disclaimer if it were a "drug"?

Worth a look: The FTC actually created a fake weight-loss product site, as a consumer education tool. Pretty well done: Fatfoe.

60#

I've done pretty well in my resolve not to have an all-diabetes, all-the-time blog. Click here if you want to see what I have written in the subject.

I thought I'd do a quick update, though, having passed a bit of milestone this AM. I stepped on the scale this morning and my weight was now just over 60# lighter than what I weighed last Spring. Meaning I've lost just at/over 60#. (*) Yippee.

Izzy sez I've been motivated to follow the dietary guidance due to fear of losing toes. I think that's too far into the future to be a good motivator (though it's not a bad one.) It may be more that I know there's another meter reading coming up in a few hours, and that there will be a hemoglobin A1C test in three months. (Imagine a cumulative exam for a class that could actually detect those days when you didn't study the course material.)

So, it still gets frustrating when glucose readings are unexpectedly high, when I've tried hard to do the diabetic math correctly. My MD wasn't as obsessed as I was at my last visit. I looked at a three month chart with 6 high readings (AKA failures); she saw an average of twice a month readings out of range and the rest in range (AKA pretty good control.)

There's some sort of great spiritual illustration in there, about self-forgiveness, and long-term consequences of actions, and our perspective being different from others (God, even) who see a bigger picture. Gotta contemplate it a bit longer.

My goal for this weekend is to get some old stuff out of the closet, to make room for all the new clothes I've had to buy. Fortunately, having always been a bit slow at getting things done, I've been able to access & wear old (10+ years old) clothes that I never got around to getting rid of. It'$ $aved a bit on the clothe$ $hopping expen$e$. Style, schmyle.
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(*) The AM weight was of course, influenced by the thorough navel de-linting, etc. that is so critical to an accurate weigh-in. I know it will be a while before the PM weights are at the same number, but it was nice to see it at least once. I also fully expect to go 3-4 days before I see that lower # again.

Geography Jeopardy (TM)

The answer is: Rome, Florence, Madrid, Algeciras and Tangiers.

Question: Where will the O'Cayces be visiting this summer?
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Tickets are bought, hostel reservations made, train tables pored over, etc. Izzy is just about beside himself; I'm slowly getting more excited as details fall into place.

I even ordered a book on traveling with diabetes (plus I ordered one of those "I have a disease" necklaces that I've been avoiding getting.) We're committed.

For those keeping score, this will be our 1st trip outside of the US together that involves an overnight stay. 24 years of marriage--it's about time.

Now to wait for the questions and advice...

Catching Up

This has been a very busy week -- that's nothing new. However, there's been a bit of a family crisis going on. The last time something this big happened (OK, there's never really been anything this big), we caught up with the news via our bag phone. Now it's local calls and visits to homes and reading the papers. Dying of curiosity? Send me a personal email.

In the domain of the utterly mundane, but still distressing, our landlord's crack-fiend gang o'helpers (gotta be --nothing else makes sense) came over to trim the hedges. We'd mentioned a dead tree in the backyard -- it's still standing. However, the hedges mostly are not. The front of our house looks like a reindeer cemetery, where the gravediggers under-estimated the heights of Dasher, Dancer, etc. Their 6-10 inch high horns are sticking out where the holly and azalea bushes used to be. Pics when I remember to try Izzy's camera or get mine back from the camera hospital.

Just finished watching the Des Moines Register Republican Debate on CSPAN2.

• Number one observation -- the moderator really didn't like Ambassador Keyes.
• Number two: When did Keyes enter the race? Where has he been?
• Number three: 30 second and 15 second questions are attempts to trap people into giving sound bite answers. If I'm actually watching CSPAN2, do you think I'm the type of voter who wants sound bites? Let them talk, already! It's OK if the debate goes three or four hours -- what else could you possibly have to broadcast on CSPAN2?!!?

(That rant was totally decaffeinated, by the way.)

I went in for lab work this morning so we would have the results available for my physical on Friday. I realized later that tomorrow marks one year since I got my official diagnosis of diabetes. It's been a year of big changes, and I'm grateful for those who supported and encourage me, especially in the early stressed-out days.

Izzy and I are very much looking forward to our time at the beach the week of New Years. I'm hoping that we don't look too far in advance, passing up the next 11 or so days of preparation for Christmastide.

Continued prayers for Baldman and Waldie as Tricia's family adjusts to the loss of David.

Traveling safety prayers for Gashwin.

S&S: There was a fax at the parish this evening stamped "This event has been approved." I guess you're good to go on the whole wedding thing.

Night all.

Fatigue and the Night Office

Up late tonight taking care of something needed by folks at work.  Editing took just a  little time -- sending via the dial-up connection took lots longer.  (Same dial-up that I assume will carry this email post to the blogosphere eventually.)  I'll be here in the AM waiting for the cable guy to arrive...

 

Last night, I was up late doing parish bulletin after pastoral council meeting.  I was tired enough that I sent the file for copying to the wrong group of people: who knew I had decided to start out-sourcing the Parish Bulletin to India? 

 

I'm often up late, even when not doing the bulletin, updating the website, taking late night rabies or food poisoning calls, etc.  My brain acts very much like the toddler who just won't accept her bedtime if there is any possibility that anything else might be happening anywhere else.   It's not so bad being a night owl if you are full of energy, but I find it's taking me longer and longer to recover from on-call nights, from restless nights before medical testing appts, etc. 

 

So, how to shut off the brain at night?

 

I'm going to try taking back up reading the Night Prayer Office -- something I'd gotten out of the habit of doing.  I used to feel really bad if/when I fell asleep reading the Office, as If I was like the disciples in the garden whom Jesus asked:  Could you not remain awake for one hour?

 

Now, I've decided that, even if I'm completely exhausted, what better way to complete my day and drift into unconsciousness than while in prayer?  in the Scriptures? 

 

Ask me in a few weeks how I'm doing.  The lifestyle changes with the diabetes (the ones that I've taken to heart) seem to have "stuck."  Let's see if increasing time in prayer lasts beyond the New Year's Resolution / Lenten corridor of time.

8-Things Meme

So, Gashwin tagged me and Izzy and a few other folks - leaving me nearly no one to tag. That's OK, I've not yet opted to ask Izzy his five questions, either.

Here the background:

The rules are simple…Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

Here goes (I assume, as I try and decide what to write, that lots of this will be familiar territory)

1. Izzy and I have been friends during five presidential administrations, sweethearts-then-spouses during four. Yes, some of our stories go back to the Carter administration!

2. I really enjoy music. I love singing on Sunday AM, and I even enjoy rehearsals. Any chance to do harmony, and I'm there!

3. I write music (err, create songs, I don't play an instrument, so lots of it isn't written down in musical notation.) Mostly it's been heard by family. I'm working to finish a folky-type song for this weekend's wedding.

4. My middle name should have been "Volunteer."

Update: Before reading #5: Please note that items separated by semi-colons are separate and distinct and not possible related to adjacent items. Not hardly...

5. Short list of stuff everybody knows: I'm Catholic; I'm a convert; I'm an aunt; I'm really involved with my family; I have diabetes; we have a neurotic cat; I have a mostly new wardrobe; I love jewelry; I'm allergic to everything that smells nice, it seems, plus a few things that don't smell so nice; like Gashwin, I'm left-handed and extroverted; I work in Epidemiology; I'm a nurse practitioner; I have pretty good presentation and document layout skills; and did I mention the volunteering?

6. I've always loved photography and I'm excited to learn better how to use my new camera.

7. (Inspired by a news story I'm watching) I'm a regular blood donor. I have several gallon pins from the Red Cross, and I think I'm on their every-8-week speed dial.

8. (See #1) I'm incredibly lucky to have Izzy for a husband. He's creative, funny, brilliant, sincere, caring, godly, devout, loving, romantic, adventurous, considerate, and TAKEN. (Sorry gals!) We've been told we make a great team - I'm so glad we've had each other all these years.

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That's it. I think Waldie and Baldman did this a ways back, so we'll read other tagees and let anyone who wants to consider themselves tagged.

Rome Trip - July 5: St. Peter's Bottom to Top

Up at 7-something. Body in shock, thinking it's 1 AM. Out by 8 - walked to Metro Station (Vittorio Emmanuel.) Bought our week-long passes at the local tobacconist - the ticket dispensing machine in the Metro didn't want to take plastic.


(Or, bip and don't go...)

The Metro was very crowded - rush hour. Izzy almost didn't make it onto the train on our first ride. Eau de subway already pretty strong.

Emerged at Hostia de San Pietro. Walked 4-5 blocks to a side entrance into the Piazza - we're finally here at St. Peter's Basilica!

I like the idea of crossing a national frontier w/o a passport. We picked up new "Pope-eners" (beer bottle openers w/Papal heads - these were of B16) at the tchotchke stand.

We arrived around 9:15 AM. Took pics in the Piazza (St. Peter's Square) and made a brief visit inside of the church before our 10:45 AM Scavi tour reservations.


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(Totus Tuus - another of the ever-present reminders of John Paul 2)
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Also stopped in the Vatican bookshop - lots to drool over in there.


The Catechism - in Latin!

Multi-language sections, not all selections duplicated in all languages. Found a 2006 liturgical pocket calendar for Izzy (which we opted to pick up later in the day when our bag would have more room (i.e., after we'd eaten the lunches.)


(Scavi Office - thence underground to the 1st century level and burial site of St. Peter)

Scavi tour: we had a priest from the Netherlands who was a very good story teller (kept our interest very well) and who actually appeared to believe the history he was relating to us. Very nice for his audience, and it certainly helped maintain the perigrini mood. Good explanations of the history of Roman burial traditions in addition to the history of the site traditionally believed to St. Peter's resting place. It was an emotional moment when we were given a chance to pray in front of Peter's bones.


(Wall painting of sun God as Christ - only shot taken on Scavi tour)

Diabetes content - skip if you'd like. I had a surprise pre-lunch blood sugar of 113. It was 1:30 Rome time, and I'd eaten nothing since 7:30 AM. I'd felt weak and hypo just as the tour was starting - this would have been around 4:45 AM body clock time - likely my normal low followed by glycogen production to elevate my glucose level. (Couldn't eat on the tour.) I'm still planning to follow the Roman clock - it's too hard to eat and do our activities on the US clock. It will just take awhile to adjust. Lunch, which we ate on the steps, was bread and cheese sandwiches that Izzy makes and packs. Bottled H2O.

Trip to the Dome. Now that we've been to the bottom, let's head up to the top. Very long line for the dome/cupola. Very interesting dress on some women/girls - not quite getting the meaning of Vatican attire rules.


(No amputees(?), no leiderhosen)

One girl had a light grey shawl covering spaghetti straps (OK) but enough of a gap between the bottom of her shirt and top of her pants that the "whale tail" and severely sunburned area beneath it (caudal to it) were quite visible. One girl was wearing plastic sleeves under her tank top - it was hot and they were completely stuck to her skin!


(Plastic sleeves!)

We opted to buy lift tickets: it took off 223 of the 553 steps, leaving 330 steps to climb. We made it up with a few brief rest periods (mainly for me - Izzy was very patient!) The view was totally worth it! Lots of pics!


(inside the dome, before the main ascent)
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(Look, Ma - we made it!)
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We headed back down the steps to the Bernini Plaza (rooftop) where we found a souvenir shop, a gelato/coffee shop and a Vatican Post Office.


(Bernini Plaza)
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(Blue Vatican Post Box, souvenir & coffee shops)

I picked up postcards to complete tonight and mail tomorrow when we return for the Via Triumphalis Tour. Izzy got a cappuchino - I've never seen the attraction for hot drinks in hot weather, but he sure was happy. Back down the elevator, which opened directly into the Basilica. Guards made sure everyone was covered before we disembarked (scarves on, hats for men off.) More walking around, oohing and aahing over the decoration, statues, etc.


(Pieta)
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(St. Veronica - go to Flickr for larger shots of "true icon")
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(Rubbing Peter's toes - nearly worn away)
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(Side altar - everything here is beautiful!)
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(Station V)

Sacraments. After checking the schedules, we headed over to the Sacramental area for confessions. It was wonderful to see how many languages were available. Izzy wound up with a priest who wanted to talk, including about the upcoming motu proprio (once he learned Izzy's occupation); my confessional experience was more about guidance and assurance. God doubtless guided us to the right confessors.

After Reconciliation, we headed over to the Adoration Chapel for Benediction. There was a guard stationed there to keep tourists & cameras away. Izzy approached with hands folded and said "Perigrini, non turistas." I pulled the lacy shawl I was carrying over my head - no problems getting in. The service of Benediction was somewhat different from what I am used to -- mainly in the music used. I was able to follow along with the Tantum Ergo. The rest was in Italian.

We next headed up to the very front chapel for 6 PM Mass. Prior to Mass, there was a ceremony of readings about St. Peter, our status as peregrini, etc. They must use this service often - papers were re-collected afterwards before Mass started.



The first reading was about Abraham being asked to sacrifice his son, Isaac. (Yes, my Italian -- I think it was Italian -- is improving a bit.) Gospel was in Latin, along with the rest of the Mass. Izzy was able to follow along with all of the responses. I knew a few of the major "mass part" chants.

There was a choir from the US singing Latin throughout. They closed, however, with the spiritual "Ezekiel Saw the Wheel."

There was a male reader, a primary celebrant and three con-celebrating priests. There was passing of the peace, so I assume it was a V2 Mass; it was my first Latin Mass - in St. Peter's!


(Receiving the Keys - detail of pillar near statue of St. Peter)

As Mass ended and we turned to leave, I noticed that there was quite a crowd behind the partition watching us. Surprisingly, we really couldn't hear them during Mass. Strolling out, we notice that the church is much quieter than before. We headed back out to pick up the Latin prayer book & calendar.

Commuting. It's now early evening. The metro is far less crowded than before. At our station , the escalator is broken. Many, many steep stairs - we were glad for the rest period we'd had after climbing the dome. The repair crew turned it back on just as I stepped off - too late for me, but welcome to the families carrying babies and strollers up the steps.

Dinner. Back to the apartment; we napped until 8:30. Up for showers, then strolled downstairs to the Trattoria Morgana for dinner. Discovered that lots of folks knew about the Thursday night gnocchi, and they'd sold out of it. Nigerian/British couple next to us at dinner asked how we'd found out about the restaurant - apparently it's quite well known. Who knew? We were just lucky to have chanced on it next door.

Izzy had veal; I had the same dinner as Tuesday (bruschetta pomodori and asparagi.) Opted for vino (glucose was 80 before dinner - didn't bother to check afterwards.)

We sat at the table and filled out the many postcards we'd picked up. We had plenty of time - meals are very leisurely here - and we were done at 11:40 PM. We took a post-prandial stroll to the Bancomat (ATM) nearest Sta. Maria Maggiore.

Caught up a bit on journal entries before bed. We'll mail as many cards as we have addresses for tomorrow (now today.)

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Valuable Travel Tip: bring postal addresses with you.
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Flickr Collections for Today:

• 1st Trip to St. Peter's
• St. Peter's Square
• St. Peter's Basilica
• St. Peter's - Trip to Top

BDay Surprise

Mom called and asked to stop by this evening. I had no plans, having gone out w/family Saturday & Sunday (Sunday was Chinese buffet for me, & for B1 & his son, in honor of Father's Day.)

Mom arrived with two nieces (ages 10 & 8) in tow. They cut up strawberries and served them with Sugar-free Cool Whip & angel food cake. (Note to self -- skip the cake next time ... even a sliver seems to be too much...)

I used spoons (multiple sizes), forks and a bowl on the table to try & explain insulin resistance to the girls. A particular inspiration was when the insulin piece of cutlery had convinced the carb piece of cutlery to go into the bowl (muscle cell), when suddenly the bowl rose up and announced "You shall not pass!" in just the sort of deep voice you'd expect from a china dessert bowl.

The girls "decided" that the birdseed that Grandma had also purchased this evening was good for diabetes and that I should have it as sprinkles on my strawberries. Fortunately for me, giggling over this prospect left them absolutely no time or energy to actually try and open the container. (Besides, they've not tasted diabetic breakfast cereals -- not much different from what I assume the birdseed would have been.)

We looked at Flickr pics and they told grandly exaggerated tales of their adventures at the beach this past week. One got to use our new egg/strawberry cutter (great job of re-wiring, Izzy!) and another cleaned & de-stemmed the berries. Lots of unexpected fun -- a great bday surprise.

Izzy called during the visit -- I'm sure the girls will continue giggling at what they heard when he and the crowd of Texan/Spaniards relocated to New Jersey sang over the phone.

So, I've ended my first official, admitted year of middle age -- I don't plan to have another quite so full of health issues. I'm feeling sort of like someone in recovery -- happy for changes in my life, but also very aware that staying healthy will rely a great deal on my choices.

Thanks to all for prayers & support this past year.

Plan B: Unexpected Candor

I don't often blog about political issues, though I think about them a great deal when they influence health. This seemed important to recall (and isn't that what a blog is for?)

From the NY Times, a comment that I wouldn't have expected on Plan B (appears on page 2, at the end of the article):

Plan B may in rare circumstances prevent a fertilized egg from becoming implanted, something abortion opponents decry. But regular oral contraceptives do that, too.

Found the link from the Christianity Today blog, which asked: Outrage on Plan B, So Why Not the Pill? I recognize that the posting was mainly aimed at Protestants, many/most of whom don't scruple at Pill usage. I hope that these questions and the science behind how OC's work get better disseminated (yes, Izzy, there's a horrible pun in there...)

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Truth in advertising: Recent changes in my health status have led to the need to considerably suppress ovarian functioning after development of insulin resistance. All that leads to an interesting exchange over dinner last Wednesday:

Me: Discussion of status of (we're still calling it) pre-diabetes.

Matthew: So, are you on the pill? (little P pill, meaning oral glucose meds.)

Me (after getting OK from Izzy): Yes. (including meaning big P Pill).

Izzy (clarifying): She means Yes AND Yes.

For us, after years of NFP/roulette, having to take OC's was an unexpected development. It also meant the very end of any lingering thoughts of babies...Probably a good reality check for someone in her late, late, late twenties.

Sugar

(the food, not the Southern expletive.)

So, I've had flare-ups in a couple of chronic conditions this past spring. At one point, one of these issues (it's ovarian, let's leave it at that) seemed to be the cause of increased fasting blood sugars. So, in addition to treatments for my neurologic, gastrointestinal and reproductive systems (I know, TMI), we added an endocrine system medication.

After a month, the blood sugar levels got even worse, and I now own a glucometer. I expect to also get another ICD-10 code at my next visit: E11, or ICD-9 250.2 (Non-insulin dependent diabetes mellitus.)

Can't say it's a complete surprise, given family history and personal build (I like to say that I've been carrying around my grandmother since her death in 1978--it's the least I could do in tribute to her...) However, onsets of things like this tend to be diagnosed when you're feeling the ill effects of having the untreated disease. I think that I'm saying that I had been feeling pretty awful much of the spring, and so I wasn't prepared to deal with the news at first.

My GYN's office had called with the concerning lab results and told me to see my regular MD ASAP. (Note to self--gotta get a new doctor...) I got in the next day, and got the "you'll be fine, just take this new pill, watch what you eat and check your blood sugars twice a day" talk.

No time given to ask questions (nor was a referral given to a diabetic educator or endocrinologist when I asked about one--"We can manage you here.") No info given on (1) what I should eat, what must be avoided, do I focus on carbs or glycemic indices, etc., (2) what times would be best to check blood sugar levels--I suggested AM fasting and PM postprandial and he said that sounded OK, or (3) what levels might be appropriate for sugars at those times.

(Yes, I'm a nurse, but I don't specialize in internal medicine, plus practice guidelines have changed since my graduation. We all need to have questions answered.)

He did say to me that I'd probably be like most folks he knew with Type II and that I'd probably be able to eat cheeseburgers and drink Pepsis in no time.

He said "Cheeseburgers." To me. Gotta get a new doctor.

So, I've been checking blood sugars 2-5 times a day, trying to learn to correlate symptoms with levels. I've spent all my internet time looking at ADA recommendations and learning the differences between whole blood and plasma glucose levels. I've tried to figure out how to fit meal plans and carb allowances into a vegetarian diet, while learning to deal with side effects for new medicine number three for this month.

Izzy has been a godsend. He got home from a visit to his brother in Austin just after I got the glucometer. He's helped me look up things, order cabling and download programming to tracking meter readings on the PC, and not said anything when, despite following what seems to be good advice, morning or evening sugars go too high. We're in this adventure together.

Note to self--gotta keep this husband.

End of Youth?

I've decided that this will be the last post I write before admitting, alas!, that I've hit middle age. Based on longevity of my family, especially the women (great-grandmothers who lived to 98 & 105, great-greats who lived to 95 & 99, healthy great aunts in their 80's, and my mom's health, I should expect to live to a ripe old age. Gotta balance that with death of Mom's mother at 28 (cerebral hemorrhage) and Dad's mom at 65 (heart, diabetes.) Then there's the male ancestry--heart attacks in late 50's and mid 70's, cancer in early 70's, etc.

At some point, no matter how risk factors are calculated and modified, one reaches the point where at least half of one's expected life span has passed.

My math says that I've reached (if not surpassed) that point--and that means I'm middle aged. We'll mark it tomorrow on my birthday and someday nieces and nephews can look back and note when the real onset of middle age actually was (will be?? One can always hope...)

Further proof of being middle (but not specified) age: I saw three (count 'em!) different types of medical specialists in the past couple of weeks. When I add two or three more specialties, it'll probably be time to look into getting the AARP card. ;-)

Rome Trip - July 12: The Day of Seven Conveyances

Up at 5:30, downstairs by 6. Izzy went to call a taxi while I waited by the bags. It was a pretty fast ride out to Ciampino airport; our driver's job seem to consist of disapproving of many other people’s driving skills.

EasyJet check-in was very easy. Based on what we saw people keeping with them for their flights, it appears that the many pages of baggage regulations we had read and printed were essentially suggestions. No shoes off at security; no packing questions. (Come to think of it, there weren’t any packing questions in the US, either.) EasyJet veterans sat on the floor by the gate; we sat in chairs. Their line-up got them the 5-6 seats on the shuttle bus out to the plane.

Before we left the terminal, we looked at the duty free shop. “Real” prices for scarves and purses were much higher than on the street in Rome. (Should have shopped more at the street vendors.)

We found seats together on an exit row when we boarded the plane. The friendly flight crew appeared to be having lots of fun, even occasionally changing the content of the announcements when repeating them in another language (everything was said in Italian, Spanish, and English).

After we landed in Madrid, I had a tough time with the smoke. The smoking area in the airport was right next to the main baggage claim area. The taxi to the train station was smoke free, but Atocha station was only partially smoke free; there were lots of “No Smoking” signs, and most of them were right next to ash trays, so those signs more or less announced smoking areas.


Atocha Station, interior "rain forest"

We didn’t have printed train tickets, just Internet purchase confirmation numbers, so we went to the ticket purchasing area. It was a bit confusing until Izzy found the broken kiosk where an employee was handing out “now serving” numbers. There were different sets of numbers for different kinds of transactions (buying, pickingup, Internet sales, etc.) The ticket agent said that "someone else" had picked up our tickets already, and then went to check on something. It turns out that our tickets had been printed and given to the “train master” (conductor) at the start of our train’s trip in Barcelona. All we had to do was show up 1/2 hour before departure time , check the board to see which platform we needed, and show our reservation number to board the train. We now had several hours to kill, and it was time for lunch.

We’d passed a vegetarian café on the way to the station, so we stowed our bags in a locker (the woman at security was NOT looking at the scanner’s screen!) and headed out. It was 1:30 when we arrived at the café. A sign said that they were open for lunch until 2 PM, but the door was already locked. We headed to the next place and saw the first of many, many signs saying “se permitte fumar.” I asked folks in a couple of places; no one knew of a restaurant without smoking. Most of the places were laid out like bars, so there really wasn’t anywhere possible to eat (quite a change from Italy).

We headed back to the station, stopping to check out a cross between a memorial and a church, the Panteon de Hombres Ilustres. It was labelled as part of Spain’s cultural patrimony. Lots of monuments to significant dead folks, some with more pathos than pietas.


Pantheon de Hombres Ilustres
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War Memorial, either defending or aiming at the playground

Back to the station and downstairs to the eating area, sign say that this is a "Ticket Restaurant." Neither of us knows what a “ticket restaurant” is, so we just motion to a waitress who then seats us. I can not seem to figure out the menu and am quite unhelpful to Izzy and the waitress as they try to figure out what I should order. It turns out to be a combination of heat, dehydration, and hypoglycemia (should have recognized it, but didn’t). I ended up with a tortilla con queso, which in Spain is an omelet made to order with cheese. It came with fries, the first I’d had since the diabetes diagnosis. I ate them.

After sitting long enough to feel civil again, we retrieved our luggage and went upstairs to wait on the train. The train’s platform number still hadn’t been posted, but after about fifteen minutes we opted to wait inside the air-conditioned waiting area instead of outside in the heat with the smokers. A line formed at one of the gates; it turns out that the locals knew whence this train typically departs.

We boarded our 1st Class, non-smoking car. TV screens showed the time, where we were, and ETA’s for upcoming stops. Service began with orange juice and dried fruit; it continued frequently. Izzy read some, then watched Hollywoodland in Spanish; I caught up on some of these entries and napped a bit.


Izzy's reading
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Reassuring Display

We had a couple of mysterious stops. One was next to a rabbit warren where I tried to get a picture. The second one may have been when we switched from high-speed tracks; we did notice a guy with a badge that read “Vigilantes de Seguridad.”


View outside our window during exended stop.

We’re hearing the Castilian lisp everywhere.

We arrived in Jerez de la Frontera close to 10 PM, and it was still very light out. We were met by friends of many years, who had driven from Algeciras to get us. Jerez (kher eth') is where sherry comes from (The word "sherry", I am told, comes from the name of the city during the Moorish occupation: Xerez or Xeres.) We passed Cadiz, said to be the oldest continuously inhabited city in Europe, going back to an 1100 BC Phoenician settlement, when it was called Gadir. [1]

In Algeciras we drove around the port and saw many, many cars from lots of different countries with families heading back home to Morocco for summer holidays. The clue to their destination was lots of people and baggage piled high inside and on top of the vehicles.

We had sandwiches with our hosts ~11:30 PM on their back terrace, where most of their summer meals are taken. We started a load of laundry, opting for the 30 minute quick wash rather than European energy-efficient 2.5 hour wash. We hung the clothes on the lines before heading to our part of the house / guest house for showers and bed.

For Izzy, who keeps finding groups of seven: This was a seven segment/conveyance trip: taxi, shuttle bus, plane, taxi, walk, train, car.

[1] To answer questions raised on the car ride about antiquity of cities, Wikipedia sez that Cadiz is the 2nd oldest continuously-inhabited city in western Europe, then sez Cádiz is regarded as the most ancient city still standing in western Europe. Founding dates to 1104 BC. Athens has a recorded history of at least 3000 years. A Google search for "oldest city in Europe" gets you articles on Cadiz AND on Athens. Ask.com was no help at all.

Today's cool bike sightings:


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Flickr sets for today:

• Layover in Madrid
• Train to Jerez

Shop 'til you drop

I was going to call this post "Kindness of Strangers," but the term appeared when I began typing in the Title box. Can't find that I posted something in this blog with that title, but I've used it somewhere recently in a fill-in box. So, in the interest of variety, I picked a new title.

Back to the story, augmented with Ten Valuable Life Lessons:

I went to the Red Cross after work and donated blood. I have a fairly rare blood type, so I try and go every 8-10 weeks. I've done this for decades, with the exception of the 12-month deferral after I returned from Haiti.

No problems with the donation, which took just at 5 minutes from poke to clamp. Took far longer to answer all of the questions about the people with whom I'm not having sex and all of the places where I'm not traveling. Red Cross was picked pretty clean, with only pretzels left in the canteen. I think I ate some, but I'm not so completely sure. I did have a cappuccino from the machine.

Leaving, I couldn't help noticing the ominous clouds, wind and lightning all around, including in the direction I was headed in -- homeward. Looking west/northwest when I got to the chicken processing plant, I noticed clear, bright skies. I recalled the gift certificate I'd received last PM from my sister in a bday card, and decided to head for the light. Just a brief trip to look at some tops, I thought to myself.

Lesson One: heading for the light is not always the best idea, even if it seems to be a way to avoid the stress of driving through storms.

I drove to Kohls, a big box discounter. The layout in the Misses section was a bit confusing, with lots of poking and looking to find items in a particular size or color as most things seemed to be on clearance. I'd neglected to grab a cart/buggy, so was carrying around the pile of items I was considering.

Halfway through trying on the 2nd pile (limit 5 items per trip), I started feeling weird. I noticed my pulse was a bit fast & I felt weak, so I sat down on the microscopic ledge and checked my blood sugar. Fine, if not a bit high (still not sure if I ate any pretzels...) Still felt odd, thought maybe the reading could be off, rechecked. No different. Still felt weak, sat down again and downed a sugar packet. No better.

Decision to make: Do I leave, sit down, try on the last outfit? I figured I had just a bit more reserve strength left in me, so I started to pull on the jumper, the spaghetti traps of which were sewn to the t-shirt underneath. Couldn't untangle the mess (over-sharing yet?), so finally pulled off crumpled clothes as I dropped to the floor of the dressing room.

Lesson Two: You aren't as resilient as you think you are.

Lesson Three: If you have two choices of what to dress yourself in, and you fear you'll fall over before you finish, chose the more familiar outfit. That way, you'll be in your own clothes when you collapse and need help.

Managed to get my own outfit re-placed onto my person, picked up the "keeper clothes" (not gonna let the trip go to waste), and stepped out. Got the attention of an attendant, and asked for somewhere sit as I announced I was about to faint. Seriously -- my eyes were seeing closing circles (looked like what TV screens used to when you turned them off and the circle of light just smaller & smaller.)

There was a shopping buggy (not grocery cart) with unwanted items from the dressing room. She grabbed the clothes and directed me to sit there. I put my feet up on a trashcan, while someone ran for a wheelchair.

Lesson Four: Get a cart when you go shopping. You know you'll eventually need one.

The salesladies were incredibly helpful and solicitous for my welfare. One got me water, another a wheel chair, another rummaged through the clearance racks to find two items in sizes different from what I had with me in the dressing room. Again, let's not let the trip go to waste.

I drank some water and sat in the cart, then the wheelchair for about 20 minutes. Feeling better, I decided it was time to go home, eat and rest. My pulse was back to normal, the pallor was improved (I was whiter than normal, if you can imagine.) My speech was also clearer (neglected to mention earlier, but I thought I sounded thick-tongued.) Headed for the checkout -- just two folks ahead of me, one lady pulling out her card, so she must be done.

Lesson Five: When you aren't stable, don't stand in the line where the machine breaks down.

Lesson Six: When you aren't feeling well, you will pick the line where the machine is fixing to break down.

After five minutes (the other line wasn't really moving either), I'd begun feeling weak. Not tired, not hypoglycemic, but as if someone was pulling me to the floor. I tried squatting, then stood, then leaned. My turn at the counter arrived just as I saw all the lights go out. My legs gave way as I stepped over to the lawn chair display, leaving my purchases on the conveyor/table (not really sure which one.)

Employees appeared out of nowhere. I'd mentioned to the first set of staff that I had diabetes, so a manager appeared with a Diet Pepsi and PB Nabs. After the line cleared, another rang my purchases and brought me my receipt to sign. The assistant manager stayed with me, and several folks whose shifts were ending, stopped by to see that I was OK. I know that there was certainly the store's interest to look out for, but I really felt that I was being treated as a person, not as a possible lawsuit.

Lesson Seven: Re-hydrating with Diet Pepsi -- liquid good, but excitement and caffeine means you'll be up late enough to write this long post.

So long as I stayed seated, I felt myself improving. After another 20 or so minutes or so of chatting with the Asst. Mgr and eating the Nabs, I knew I'd be able to drive home. Before leaving, I completed a comment card, naming and thanking the employees who had shown such care and been so solicitous for my welfare (used those terms, too.) Wanted to assure myself (& store personnel) that I could think clearly.

Lesson Eight: Gratitude is always good. Expressing it is worth the time taken.

Drove home, heated up some dinner, sat down to eat & call Izzy. Let the very disgruntled, lonely cat go outside for her grass snack (will look for its reappearance later...) Peaked a bit at other people's lives, then sat down to type. I'll head off to bed soon, once I've counted out pills ...

FYI: It never rained here, bringing me to Lesson Nine for tonight: Go home after you donate blood. If you don't go home, go somewhere where you can sit down. Do not go shopping. Driving in a thunderstorm is better than going shopping, at least in this instance.

Bonus Lesson Ten: I've now learned what it means to literally "Shop 'til you drop." I think I'm a pretty quick learner, so I don't think I'll feel the need to try this experience again.