Recovery

It's been 3 weeks since my daughter's birth, and I'm still recovering from the C-section surgery and the pregnancy itself.  Immediately following my surgery, my numbers shot up to the 300s for the next several hours.  I think the spike had more to do with the fact that I hadn't eaten anything in 36 hours.  I was still wearing my CGM and pump, so I was able to keep tabs on my numbers pretty well.  However, the morning after, the soreness started to settle in so I was given some acetaminophen-based medicine.  I took off my CGM and kept it off until we went home that Friday.  

The soreness was centralized in my core ab muscles, which is perplexing since my incision was down near my bikini line.  I never got a good look at my cut until we got home because the hospital didn't have any full-length mirrors, thankfully.  I honestly didn't want to look at first.  I was afraid of seeing myself as some sort of Frankenstein creature with the staples and all.  But the first time I saw them, it actually wasn't too bad.  The scar is below my bikini line, so I have the option of wearing two-piece bathing suits (Someday, way WAY in the future because my ab muscles currently look like a sad, deflated balloon).  It's about 8 in. long and has a slight pinkish red hue to it now.  It doesn't look near as bad as I thought it would while I imagined it in the hospital. 

I went to my doctor's office the next week to have the staples removed and replaced with medical tape.  The nurse who saw me said everyone was so proud of me for making it as far as I did and were sad to hear that I had to be sectioned.  But after learning what my other "option" was for a vaginal delivery, I was quite pleased to have a C-section.  Basically, if I had attempted a vaginal delivery, my vagina and rear end would have become roommates instead of neighbors.  My doctor calls it a "vaginal section".  The recovery of this procedure would have been substantial, and it might have taken me longer to be released for intimacy or bowel movements any time soon.  

Once we got home, I was instructed to lay out on the couch and not move.  My parents and Trey took care of everything around the house while I stayed busy feeding my little girl on demand.  I had 2 prescriptions filled for pain:  one with acetaminophen and one without (Motrin).  After a few days, I was able to handle just the Motrin and was able to put a sensor back on.  This was probably the best thing I could do for my diabetes management at the moment because taking care of  newborn has pushed testing to the back burner.  I am lucky to get in 4 tests all day long, so if Constance is accurate, I rely on her a lot throughout the day.  I know this isn't the proper way to use a CGM and it doesn't replace finger tests and blah blah blah, but I'm giving myself a little wiggle room while I get used to parenthood.  I'm pretty convinced that CGMs were solely created for type 1 pregnant women and moms because it has been invaluable to me for those occasions. 

I certainly don't consider myself "healed" yet, especially since I haven't seen my doctor for my 6-week follow up appointment yet.  But I feel like I'm ready to start getting my body back to where it was before I got pregnant.  I'm currently +15 lbs. from my pre-pregnancy weight, but I'm not doing any hard exercising until I'm released to do so.  The only exercise I'm doing right now is keeping up with small housework while feeding my daughter every few hours (breastfeeding burns calories!), and I'm eating roughly the same without decreasing my calories because I want to stay nourished for my milk supply.  I'm hoping in the next 3 weeks that I'll be slightly closer to my pre-pregnancy weight, because thinking about losing twice the amount of my daughter's weight is exhausting me already. 

38 Weeks: Ready or Not, Here She Comes

This week has been a real busy week in preparing for our daughter's arrival.  I had so much anxiety about my OB appointment on Wednesday because I was worried about her size and being induced earlier than I wanted.  This appointment would also be my last regular appointment before the 39 week goal that my doctor set for me.  I wanted to end things on a good note and go into my induction with hope and optimism.  I also had my last endocrinology appointment on Thursday, so I was rounding things out in my last week as a diabetic pregnant woman.  

My OB appointment started out with an ultrasound again to check on baby's size and fluid levels.  Last week, she was measuring around 8 lbs 10 oz, and my doctor was worried about her getting over 9 lbs and being too big for me to push out.  Thankfully, it seems my daughter has ceased growing and is just chilling out in there because she came back at 8 lbs 11 oz this week.  My fluid levels were still good, too.  My doctor still seemed puzzled by the fact that I was carrying a large baby when my diabetic control has been as good as it's been.  I explained to him that Trey and I were both 9 lb babies when we were born.  And it was as if a light bulb went off in his head and he exclaimed, "Oh, well that explains it!  You just breed big, healthy babies.  That's all!"  So it turns out that I'm a "big breeder", nothing more.  But it does give me more pressure to keep stellar control for other pregnancies since my kids will more than likely land on the larger side anyway.  

My blood pressure came back fine.  Not great, but it wasn't higher than last week, so my doc didn't seem worried about it.  Next was my first internal exam.  I have to admit that I was really worried about this.  I had read horror stories about how painful they were and they could accidentally strip your membranes and put you in early labor!  Well, it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought, just went to a happy place and counted the tiles on the ceiling.  Right now I'm 1 cm dialated and 50% thinned out, which my doctor said is very optimistic before being induced.  Looks like my dedication to walk 2 miles everyday in these last few weeks might have paid off.  

The plan is if I haven't gone into labor on my own by Monday at 10 PM (which I highly doubt), I am to go to the maternity center and check in to start the induction process.  They'll start with something called cytotec that will thin out my cervix even more overnight.  The nurse told me that sometimes it is enough to send some moms into spontaneous labor.  Then we'll start an IV of pitocin, the drug that kick starts labor, early Tuesday morning.  After 3 PM on Monday, I can only have clear liquids (water, sports drinks, jello, chicken broth, etc.) because the drugs can cause some nausea.  

Yesterday, I had my final endocrinology appointment before having my daughter.  The nurse checked all my vitals while my A1c was spinning.  I asked for a refill on all my prescriptions, just in case I might be close to running out and I wasn't coming back to the office for 4 months.  I have been spoiled a little bit by coming in once a month, I don't worry about checking my prescriptions before I come in for an appointment.  My A1c came back at 5.3%, which makes my overall pregnancy range 5.1 to 5.6.  I was quite proud of myself at this fact and feel confident that I did the best I could, diabetes wise, to give my daughter the safest place to grow.  My endocrinologist and I discussed the plan for me during labor.  I'll keep my pump on until they start the pitocin, and I'll keep it off until she is born.  "And I can put it on right after, right?"  I'm not a big fan of IVs, so I have this image of immediately ripping them out (a la the Hulk) right after I hear her first cry.  They will check my blood sugar once every hour while the IV is in, but of course I can check at my leisure as well as having my CGM.  Then I can reconnect the pump using my pre-pregnancy basal rates and bolus ratios, because once she's out and the placenta is delivered my insulin needs will dramatically decrease.  

So everything is set in place.  My daughter will be here by this time next week.  I got a little emotional leaving my OB's office after scheduling the induction.  I wasn't scared or anxious, just overall emotional from the culmination of "This is it!  She's coming!"  This weekend, we're busy doing last minute things and preparing for incoming family.  We're also planning a last date night that involves a movie trip (Battleship) and a trip to Babies-R-Us to pick up last minute things.  I've also been busy putting things in the hospital bag, most of it we may not need.  The car seat is in the car, along with the essential Boppy.  

I'm excited to meet her, but I'm more scared and anxious right now.  I'm mentally putting on my game face and getting ready for what the labor process will be like (and how long it will take).  I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to handle it.  But at the same time I have no idea what to expect, so I'm hoping I surprise myself.  I just keep imagining that moment when the doctor says "She's almost here!" and I hear her first cry and we get to hold her, finally.  That moment is my trophy that I'm running towards. 

Settling Out

I like this view.

Thanks to some recommendations that I received on my last post, this last week of blood sugar management has been a lot better. In fact, I went a whole day without crossing my high threshold on my Dexcom (160 mg/dL). So I want to thank everyone who offered great advice or simply said, "It's OK. You can do this."

The main suggestion that I'm following is keeping my old site in even after I put in a new one. I take the cap from my new site packaging, put it on the old one, and keep it on there for at least 12 hours. Ideally, I would like to change my site before bedtime to give it the most time to get "wet" before I try to bolus for a meal. But of course the units don't always line up that way. I have succumbed to giving myself injections when I have to change my site right before a meal, but I'm weary of doing this because I really like the "Active Insulin" feature on my pump. I like knowing how many units I have on top of my basal rates, especially before I go to bed. Because despite the huge amounts of insulin I'm taking compared to pre-pregnancy, I still struggle with nighttime lows.

Speaking of basal rates, I'm currently streaming over 32 units/day (my pre-pregnancy rate was 18 units/day). It seems I need a good increase in my rates at least once a week. So I've been increasing my rates by the lowest amount (0.05 units/hour) every 3 days. Combined with my current insulin:carb ratio that is set at 1:6, I'm going through cartridges every three days or less. I've learned to keep a site change set with me at all times because I tend to forget about it until I get my "Low Reservoir" warning, which doesn't leave me much time to cruise on the units I have left. I expect these increases to continue until the last month of my pregnancy, based on what I've read from other type 1 pregnancies.

On the regular pregnancy front (as if there is such a thing), I am getting bigger and definitely more uncomfortable. As of this morning, I broke the 25-lb. threshold from my pre-pregnancy weight. I told myself in the beginning that I wouldn't worry about the number as long as I and baby are healthy, but it is really hard to see that number (and to think about losing it all later, eesh). I have to sleep with a body hug pillow every night to ease the middle-of-the-night cramps that have plagued me for the past few weeks.  Also, I believe I felt my first Braxton-Hicks contraction last weekend. It wasn't painful or uncomfortable, but I definitely noticed it. I've got another appointment on Monday for my 28-week checkup that will include another ultrasound. And I'm very excited about this appointment because it's been 10 weeks since I've gotten a look at our little girl. After this appointment, I'll start going every 2 weeks. So I need to restock my Nook for all that time I'll spend in the waiting room.

I'm officially in the third trimester now. The home stretch, the light at the end of the tunnel, the final lap, etc. I'm getting less freaked out about this whole pregnancy thing, and more freaked out about the whole parenting thing!

24 Weeks: Tunnel Vision

I am 24 weeks pregnant this week. And the cruel reality that I'm 6 months pregnant but I have 4 to go has hit me. Even though I'm over halfway through this pregnancy, I feel like I have a long way to go. Namely because I discussed my labor plans with my OB and endo this week, which means I have to think about her actually being here and that stresses me out because the only thing we've done is paint her room. (Actually, Trey painted. I'm banned from all paint fumes, and thus her room for the next few days.)  This post is rather long, so I'll try to break it up into each appointment to give any readers proper intermission breaks.  

OB: 

My OB appointment last week was filled with more questions on my part.  I'm pretty sure I talked more than my OB, but he's a patient guy and willing to indulge me for my sanity.  The appointment started out the same as all the others:  pee in this cup, step on this scale (I'm up 20 lbs total), sit here while we take your blood pressure (122/70).  This was the first appointment where Trey didn't accompany me, and it felt weird.  I told him he was welcome to come to any appointments he wanted, but he was busy with grad school shenanigans so I was flying solo this trip.  The nurse used the Doppler to find my little monkey's heartbeat, which was whump-whumping at 163 bpm.  She cooperated a little more this time, but I think she's running out of room to escape the intrusive wand.  

The doctor came in and he immediately noticed my list of questions on my iPod sitting in my lap.  "Go ahead.  Fire away."  The first thing I asked him was the plan for the rest of my appointments going forward.  He said the plan is to keep seeing me once a month until 28 weeks, then I'll go to every 2 weeks until 36 weeks.  After that I'll be going once a week to check my cervix (sorry, TMI) and baby's position for upcoming labor.  In addition, I'll also be doing non-stress tests 2-3 times a week starting at 37 weeks.  So for the last month of my pregnancy, I'll be camping at the doctor's office at least 3 times a week.  (I think I'm gonna go ahead and start my maternity leave then, because I'll be spending more time with the doctor than at my own office.)

The next thing I asked about was the plans for labor.  My OB said the current plan for me is to get to at least 39 weeks, but he will not let me go past 40 weeks.  He doesn't want me going into labor on my own.  Considering my mother didn't go into labor with me and my brother until 43 and 42 weeks, respectively (What were doctors in the 70s and 80s thinking, anyway?!), it's a good assumption that I will be induced.  His reasoning for this is that he wants to keep an eye on my numbers from start to finish.  I'm sure I'll do that on my own, especially with a CGM, but he'll be able to give me guidance on insulin dosage depending on what stage of labor I'm in.  He also wants me to keep my pump on during labor (thank you! thank you! thank you!), and I'll be allowed to treat lows at my leisure with juice or whatever to eat (so no glucose drip, yes!).  

At first, I was kinda "eh" about not being able to go into labor on my own.  I'm not a natural childbirth advocate or anything, and I've already said that is not the most important thing to me.  But I hate feeling like I don't even have the option.  But such is the life with diabetes.  Bottom line:  there are certain things I'll never be able to do because of this stupid disease like join the military, become an astronaut (even though my friend April is going to break that rule), and be allowed to have a granola experience with child birthing.  Now that I've had a few days to think it over, I'm at peace with this plan.  I'm more comfortable with things being planned in advance, and I know my doctor won't force my body to do something it's not ready for (I do trust him, by the way).  And I'd rather have time to get used to being induced and research it before that day arrives.  So it looks like May 28th is the absolute latest for my girl's birthday, or earlier depending upon induction date.  

ENDO:  

I also had an endo appointment yesterday.  I knew my numbers were still solid, but I didn't expect to hover around the 5.1% A1c I had last time.  In fact, my A1c crept up to 5.4%.  The nurse assured me that this is still a good number for pregnancy, but it's obvious that my insulin resistance is beginning.  I've increased my basal rates by 3 units this week alone.  But I also know that my number of lows has decreased dramatically.  So I'm taking this increase as a sign that things are settling out more than "OMG, need more insulin now!"  And I'm all for less lows.  

My endo and I discussed my numbers and my recent ER visit.  I told him my OB's plan for inducing me, and I asked him if he had any plans, insulin wise, that I should be aware of.  I was a little surprised, because my endo told me that once I start having contractions I should suspend my pump.  *insert confused face here*  He explained that the uterus is one big muscle, and once it starts contracting it's like going through one long workout.  And I always suspend my pump if I'm going to workout, so the logic makes sense.  I just can't imagine going through such diabetes maintenance for 9 (10!) months just to say "Goodbye, pump!  See you in a few hours!"  He said even if I suspend my pump, it's still possible for me to see a lot of lows.  I'm still wrapping my head around this plan, and a lot of it will be making decisions hour-by-hour.  But right now I'm still walking around whispering "No pump?  No pump?"  I'm sure people think I need a white jacket. 

FINALLY: 

And finally, I have one big concern that's bothering me:  my belly button.  I've always been sensitive about my belly button.  I don't like anyone to touch it because it feels weird, like a dead sensation where there's no nerve endings but I know someone's touching and I don't like it!  It drives Trey crazy because he thinks I have a cute belly button, especially now because it's pushing out into an outie.  Well, it's like a half-outie at this point.   The top part is pushing out, making my stomach look like a face with no eyes or mouth and a weird looking nose.  And so that dead feeling is a constant because my belly button is rubbing on my tight shirts and maternity pants.  I know that pregnant bellies are beautiful and people want to touch them, but I'm not liking this, not one bit. 

 

My (whoa!) belly with said half-outie. 

So to recap:  baby is still in there (she moves all the time!) and doing great, both of my doctors are aware of the plan for the rest of my pregnancy and potential labor, and my expanding belly is sporting an outie belly button.  I hope you've enjoyed this super long post, because I need a potty break (something I'm doing every hour I'm awake). 

I Still Get Scared

You'd think being 23 weeks pregnant with a lively, kicking baby would make me feel like I'm "in the clear" as far as anything happening to her or losing her.  But I admit that I still get scared, of what I don't know.  I just never fully shook the feelings of the first trimester when I was in the "danger zone" until that first appointment.  I felt good after that appointment, until a few days before the next one.  The day and morning before an appointment, I'm a wreck.  I am so overcome with anxiety and worry.  "Is she still OK in there?  Is she getting too big?  Is she too small?  Why haven't I felt her move in awhile?  Is that stubborn high from last night going to do something to her?"  

But as soon as I hear her heartbeat, my fears are instantly eased.  My mood leaving the OB's office is a 180 degrees from coming in.  I'm good for a few days, feeling confident and less like I'm a high risk pregnant woman.  But then the cycle starts all over until my next appointment, which is tomorrow.  So you understand where this post is coming from now? 

The other thing that makes feel scared all over again is if I have a bad day with diabetes.  Like yesterday, I got to work and glanced at Constance before I ate my yogurt, and I also looked at my 24-hour graph and I had only gone high once in the past day (and just for the record, my high threshold is currently set at 160 mg/dL, tight control is a beast).  I was feeling pretty good about everything.  The little monkey inside me was extremely active the day before, my numbers were good, and I am sporting a nice baby bump that feels huge to me but everyone else says is "so little".  Then I went to lunch with my husband and a friend and we picked a Chinese buffet.  (You can see where this is going.)

I didn't go crazy at lunch.  The most carb-heavy things I had were some fried rice and some ice cream for dessert, other than that I stuck to my obsession when it comes to Chinese food--egg drop soup, delicious and low carb.  I SWAG bolused for the meal and added a few units that I call the "pregnancy factor", but I still ended up with a stubborn afternoon high that took me several hours to come down from.  I got scared, and the first thing I want to feel when I'm scared is her kicking me or jabbing me or anything that says, "Hey, Mom, I'm right here and I'm OK."  

It seems that I need to be on my game everyday to avoid these episodes.  Test my blood sugar, take my insulin at least 30 minutes before I eat, know the carb count, correct for lows without over-correcting, exercise.  I feel like if I slip in any one of these areas that everything falls apart.  I didn't get back on track until this morning, and I'm carefully watching my CGM like I did the first week I had it.  I don't like feeling like I can't handle one slip-up without a major emotional breakdown.  

I'm hoping my appointment tomorrow will put me at ease, that I can get back to feeling confident with this pregnancy and ready to do my victory lap of conquering a diabetic pregnancy once she's here.  Because after tomorrow's appointment, I can officially pack the hospital bag.  Not that I'll be expecting to use it for a very VERY long time, but her rate of surviving outside the womb goes up after 25 weeks.  Maybe once she's here I'll stop worrying . . . right . . . RIGHT?!?!?!?!?!!?

I'm jealous of those who can finish their workouts

I've always had a little insecurity about going to the gym.  Most of the time, I'm content to do 30 minutes on the elliptical or follow along with a class.  I've never known my way around the gym completely.  Between all the different machines and my perfectly-built gym goers, I'd much rather stick to doing something by myself at home either on the Wii or the Total Gym.  I don't have to worry about how I look or forgetting my shoes, hairband, or glucose tablets.  

But I do have a free gym membership through work, so I might as well take advantage of it.  It at least gives me a different scenery for some cardio stuff.  And the other day, I happen to meet someone from my office there at the same time.  She's a great lady and someone I look up to as far as a professional, but she's also one of those people that make me dread going to the gym.  You know who I'm talking about:  perfect body, perfect hair, and somehow after having 3 kids.  We showed up at the same time and left at the same time, but our workouts were vastly different.  

I decided I wanted to do a cardio circuit:  10 minutes on the treadmill, 10 minutes on the bike, and 10 minutes on the elliptical.  Even though I had set a reduced temporary basal before I left from work, Constance said I was 73 mg/dL before I started my workout.  I decided to ignore it because, darnit, I wanted to get in my workout.  By the time I was done with the treadmill, I was below 55 mg/dL.  Nevertheless, I kept going and said I was at least going to get in 2/3 of my workout.  I started the bike, which was very uncomfortable due to my growing belly--my knees kept hitting the bottom of my belly with each turn.  After 5 minutes, I felt my legs getting heavy and my mind getting foggy.  I knew I wasn't going to get to the elliptical.  Finally, the 10 minutes were over and I sludged my way to the locker room and tested:  29 mg/dL.  

I felt frustrated, defeated, and mad at myself that I didn't stop sooner or took some glucose tabs before my workout.  I started chomping on my glucose tabs.  I don't even remember how many I ate, 10 or 15 at least.  I sat in my car and listened to my audiobook while I waited to come up, which was also a stupid move because I could have passed out in the car and no one would have noticed.  I concentrated on listening to the rest of the book, and 10 minutes later I was coming out of the fog.  I waited a few more minutes before I started the car, I at least had enough sense to tell myself, "Don't you dare try to drive right now!"  A few more minutes passed, and I was finally high enough to drive.  

As I was pulling out of my spot, I noticed my colleague coming out of the gym after her workout.  Now I had a new reason to be jealous of her--she got to finish her workout. 

My Worst Night Ever

Last night was, by far, the worst night I've ever had with diabetes.  I set a new record for myself for a low, not that I'm bragging in the least.  I still feel scared writing this down, because I'm not really sure how I'm alive. 

It all started when I was battling a high for 3 hours before bed.  It was a nice Bell curve high that made me want to use my CGM for target practice.  I stacked bolus on bolus as well as having an increased basal to make this high go down.  Normally this practice results in me going low, in fact it usually does.  But it's usually nothing I can't handle, and I'd rather be low than high right now.  So when I finally when to bed at 160 mg/dL with an arrow going down, I thought I would coast to a landing around 100 mg/dL and have a nice flatline that I normally do overnight.  

I woke up at 1 AM completely drenched in sweat, the only thing waking me up was Constance blaring at me.  I don't remember walking to the kitchen, but I got there somehow.  I put the strip in the meter and pierced my left index finger.  Five seconds later . . . 

22 mg/dL 

That's the first time I've ever had a number lower than my age.  Surprisingly, I didn't really get scared at the number.  I just remember thinking, "Uhhh, I probably need to correct that."  I ate a banana while making a peanut butter sandwich.  I finished it off with some cranberry juice.  I considered that it was probably an overcorrection, but I was freaking 22 mg/dL!  I was in survival mode.  So when I woke up again at 2 AM to a high alarm, I laced in 2 units for good measure.  It was hard to go back to sleep at that point, but I finally did at 3 AM.  

My alarm goes off at 5 AM, and I decide to snooze due to last night's festivities.  I also decided to go ahead and bolus for my breakfast so the insulin could be working while I snoozed.  Bad idea!  Trey and I slept through the 2nd alarm and neither one of us woke up until 6:30 AM.  Actually, Trey woke up and was standing over me with a glass of juice.  "Baby, you're sweaty.  Here."  I mumbled and eventually woke up, but Trey had to pull me up into a sitting position.  I drank the juice while he walked me to the kitchen.  I tested, this time on the left middle finger:  22 mg/dL.  I heard Trey gasp, and I whispered, "That's what I was last night."  "What?!"  I made my cereal and sat down on the couch, all while Trey was following me like a hawk.  "I'm hovering until you come up."  I smiled, finally feeling better but cold from all the sweat.  

How could this happen?  I reached my lowest threshold twice in 6 hours.  I'm grateful for my CGM and my husband, because I honestly don't know if I would have woken up without them.  I feel horrible this morning, even thought I should be looking forward to our gender ultrasound later this morning.  The last 24 hours have been the worst ever for me with diabetes.  At this point, I don't care if our child is a goat, as long as their healthy and haven't felt the effects from all this.  That's what makes this post so hard. 

A1c Thoughts

When I found out I was pregnant and excitedly told my endo, the first thing he did was increase my basal rates 0.1u/hr.  This increase made my daily total jump from roughly 16 units to almost 20 units.  This puzzled me at first, because I had only heard of the plaguing first trimester lows associated with a diabetic pregnancy.  So I thought my basal rates should decrease or at least stay the same.  My endo warned me that I needed to arm myself constantly with fast-acting carbs for these oncoming lows. 

For the first few days after that appointment, I followed my low-treating guidelines by the book.  I religiously corrected using the 15/15 rule with scary precision.  But I kept correcting, and kept correcting, and kept correcting.  Eventually, I got tired of constantly correcting with oh-so-perfectly measured glasses of juice or exactly 4 glucose tabs.  Especially in the middle of the night, low correcting rules go out the window.  My low treating method became something like this:  drink enough juice that gets rid of the shakes, eat a tablespoon of peanut butter, chase with more juice or chocolate milk.  I'll admit that this resulted in some scary rebound highs that left me crying and vowing never to go outside the rules again. 

Things seem to finally be settling down and my 24-hour window on my CGM doesn't look like the cutting side of a bread knife.  Part of the resolution is learning my limits when correcting lows (like filling a glass of juice is always less than drinking it straight from the jug) and maintaining a constantly grazing schedule (like every 2 hours or less, seriously!). 

I know that being friendly with lows is good for Ferbie at this point in my pregnancy, and I'm quite proud that my A1c is in the 5s for the first time since I went on the pump.  But I must admit I could not do this everyday for normal diabetes management.  I know that everyone's comfort zone for A1c is different, but I feel the best when I land between 6.0-6.5% for my A1c.  Higher than that means I am hanging out on my higher end too much, but lower than that means I am spending a good majority of my days being low. 

I am coming to the conclusion, though, that the A1c holds a lot more value than it should.  My endo might give me a "Good job!" with an A1c of 5.5%, but looking back at the past month in my meter log shows that my body is roughly 50% apple juice.  I really put more value in my quarterly blood work for my kidneys and cholesterol, my yearly eye exam, and my overall "feeling" of health.  As long as those things get an A+ from all the medical personnel, I don't think it should matter what my A1c is when they happened. 

Pregnancy Update and Morning Sickness

First of all, I want to thank everyone for all the wonderful comments on my pregnancy announcement. I still go back and read all of them multiple times throughout the day. I definitely feel the support and love of the DOC. Now that I'm "out", I wanted to give you guys a quick update on my pregnancy so far these past 9 weeks.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I didn't really have any symptoms. I had some soreness and cramping, but nothing that was discomforting. But once I hit 6 weeks, it was like the plethora of pregnancy symptoms hit me like a ton of bricks.

I had heard about the pregnancy lows accompanied with a type 1 diabetic pregnancy, but I didn't realize that they were on a completely different scale. It's like my body wants to be at 60 mg/dL all the time without any symptoms. All I can say is THANK GOODNESS I have a CGM. The majority of the time, Constance catches my lows before I feel them. I honestly don't know how low I could be most of the time without her alerting me. The only problem with this is she seems to go off all. the. time! Especially when I (try to) sleep, she keeps beeping at me every hour that I'm below 70 mg/dL. And when she woke me up last night at 1 AM for the 5 millionth time, I busted out into tears because I just freaking wanted to sleep. I know these lows are manageable and it's better for me to hang out in the basement end of my range for the next few weeks, but I'm looking forward to getting back to the 100s as "normal".

Another symptom that hit me in the gut is morning (umm, all day) sickness. I've always had a pretty strong stomach. Even if I get a whiff of something that turns my stomach, I can usually hold it in and still eat like nothing happened. But it seems that pregnancy has turned my iron stomach into mush. And the main culprit that makes me run to the bathroom? Ground beef. Even just typing that makes me try to think of something else. But as it stands right now, I can't even look at a hamburger right now without turning the other way (towards the bathroom).

This pregnancy side effect actually caused me to lose 5 pounds the first three weeks I was pregnant. But it seems I have turned a corner recently because I can eat something larger than a tennis ball. The nausea is still there, mainly when I first wake up and if I go more than 3 hours between meals.

At my 2nd appointment with my endo since I found out I was pregnant (where my A1c was 5.5%! Woo!), I asked him what was the standard procedure with insulin and puking. Because I mainly worry about "eliminating" something I just bolused for and the oncoming low. He said the best thing I can do is either suspend my pump or put my bolus on an extended square for an hour or two to make sure I keep most of my meal down.

I've got roughly 3 more weeks of the pukes before it hopefully gives up altogether. Until then, I'll keep my diabetes supplies stashed with diet ginger ale and whole wheat crackers.

My new love.

The Day I Found Out I Am PREGNANT!!!

It feels weird to be writing this post since you guys probably won't see it for another month or so, but I know this time in my pregnancy is important and I need to get down every emotion and feeling.  This post was written on September 26, 2011.  

I'm 5 weeks!  It feels awesome to be writing those words.  I feel so incredibly blessed and excited with this pregnancy.  Trey is excited, too!  Every once in a while he'll just look at me and giggle--I don't have to guess what he's thinking about.

We found out I was pregnant last Tuesday, September 20th.  I knew there was a strong possibility I could be pregnant because I was 2 days late, and that never EVER happens to me.  I'm very . . . "on time"?

The dogs started their usual stirring around 4:30 AM, and instead of telling them to "Shhh, lay down!" to try and get those few extra minutes of sleep, I went ahead and let them out so I could take the test.  I did the test and put it on the counter to wait the instructed 3 minutes, but I didn't have to wait that long.  After less than a minute, the "Pregnant" line showed up clear as day, and after 3 minutes it looked like this:

The proof!

I woke up Trey and said, "Come look at this!"  My sleepy husband got out of bed and came to the bathroom.  He looked down at the test and said, "I told you so!"  He had guessed a few days ago that I was pregnant, but I wanted to wait until I was officially late to test.  We hugged and kissed, then looked at each other.  "So what do we do now?" he asked.  "I'll call my OB later and my endo to get the ball rolling."

I went to my OB that afternoon to do the initial blood work.  I got a call back the next day that my levels were right on schedule for someone who's 4 weeks, my hcg levels were over 500.  I did another blood draw on Thursday, which I'm still waiting for the results. My first ultrasound was scheduled for October 20th, I'll be 8.5 weeks and praying they find a good, solid heart beat.  (If you guys are reading this, then they did.)  ;-) 

I saw my endo that afternoon as well.  He congratulated me on my pregnancy and took my A1c.  To be honest, I was a little nervous about what the number would be.  We figured we had gotten pregnant while on vacation and I was CGM-less for a week, not the best environment for good blood sugar control.  However, I was astonished when I saw 5.6!  I actually asked the nurse, "Is that right?"  She looked back at the machine and said, "It's right.  Not gonna argue with it are you?"  "Not at all!" I said with a smile.  I texted Trey and said "A1c = 5.6! Hellz yeah!"  We set up my next appointment for October 24th, with blood work a week before. 

I haven't really been having any bad symptoms yet.  I keep having this nagging worry that something will happen before our first ultrasound; it plagues my mind all day.  I have made conscious efforts to keep those thoughts out of my mind, even to the point of writing down reasons why I shouldn't worry:  I'm a young, healthy female.  My numbers are solid.  There's absolutely no reason to be worried and every reason to celebrate.

I'm sitting with a smile on my face at that last sentence.  For the first 4 weeks of this pregnancy, I haven't really celebrated because I was so worried.  But now that we've seen the heartbeat and know there's a baby inside me and not a monster causing my morning sickness (more on that later), I can't help but smile . . . and freakin' tear up a tiny bit.  

The Day the Dexcom Died

One of the great advantages of having a CGM is being able to monitor my blood sugar during off-routine times. like a beach vacation.  So when receiver went kaput on me our 2nd day there, I felt completely vulnerable the rest of the trip. 

At least it was serene. 

Let's back up a bit.  One of the things I love to do at the beach is ride the waves on a boogie board.  It's exhilarating and it's a great workout.  Even thought I can't take Constance in the water with me, she can keep up with me when I get back to my chair.  However, the heat of the sun on the receiver sitting on the beach chair is something I didn't consider. 

The receiver was fine the rest of the day, but it did give me some off numbers towards the night.  When I did my nighttime test before bed, I got an ERR1 message.  Not wanting to stay up another hour to recalibrate, I shut down my receiver with intents on calibrating in the morning.  But when the morning came, I couldn't turn on the receiver.  I held down each button multiple times, for longer than I needed to.  I finally called tech support, and they instructed me to try the reset button the back of the receiver.  Nothing happened. 

My receiver was fried. 

Unfortunately, my system was out of warranty.  So that meant I would have to start all over and get insurance approval and chart notes from my endocrinologist.  That was probably the worst news from this whole situation.  The last time I went through this process, I waited a month while the paperwork sat on my endo's desk.  I kind of assumed I would have to go through that all over again. 

But this also meant that I would have to revert back to my pre-CGM management routine, including testing 2 hours after a meal like clockwork.  I know that you're not supposed to rely on the CGM in place of finger stick testing, but I would find myself relying on it more and more, especially if the CGM was proving to be accurate.  My numbers the rest of the week were less than stellar, but not outrageous.  I had high numbers after breakfast, which is typical for me with the absence of exercise.  I did miss being able to monitor my BG when it wasn't in-range, relying on testing every hour or 30 minutes for a correction.  Those gaps in time were excruciating, but I managed the best I could.

On the last day of our vacation, I got the best call.  My Dexcom rep told me that my insurance was still going to cover most of the cost of my new setup and sensors, AND my endo had already signed my paperwork needed to submit to insurance!  I was elated.  And this all occurred on a day that my endo's office is normally closed.  He's really been on his game, especially since I've been discussing the idea of pregnancy. 

I should receive my new Dexcom system next week.  I can't wait to get back to being a real-time diabetic.  Next time, though, I think I'll leave the receiver in my room, or at least get it its own hat. 

Diabetic Nightmares

Shortly after I was diagnosed, I had a nightmare that involved diabetes.  I dreamed that I had snuck out in the middle of the night to go to a bar.  But not just any bar, a bar that served nothing but CAKES!  I remember being drawn to this one in particular, an Oreo cake--a circular white cake with Oreo cookie crumbles all over it.  I felt guilty for even being there, being diabetic and all.  Even though I was told at my first meeting with my CDE that I could have cake, as long as I take insulin for it.  Diabetes was taking over my subconscious!  

And last night, I had another nightmare.  I dreamed that I sat down at a nice Italian restaurant when Constance starting blaring at me that I was HIGH.  I went to the bathroom to check and apparently I was so high that my ketone strips started BEEEEEEEPing, as well!  I tried to discretely walk back to my table, but my CGM kept beeping and I felt like crap (in my dream).  I remember thinking I didn't care how high I was, I was going to enjoy my big bowl of pasta and would deal with the consequences later. I was relieved when I woke up this morning to find out I was a little low, 65 mg/dL. 

Has this ever happened to anyone else?!  Please tell me so that I don't feel like a complete looney.  Diabetes seems to be at the center of my attention every waking moment.  But does it have to be so in my sleep, too?! 

Ready to Run

So in the ongoing effort to keep up my dedication to exercise, I am taking the plunge to start a running routine.  But here's the thing:  I HATE/LOATHE/DESPISE/whatever-word-you-choose running.  The impact on my legs and knees as I hit the pavement is extremely uncomfortable.  Not to mention the fact that I feel like I'm swimming through the Alabama humidity. 

I've attempted to go running with Trey a few times (because he actually enjoys running, what a strange man!), but my gym sack that contains all my diabetes junk (meter, glucose tabs, syringes, glucagon) bounces against my back and makes it even more uncomfortable to run than the impact.  The only time I've ever had a successful run with all my diabetes junk is when I can stash them all in my windbreaker.  But there's no way I can do that with temps in the upper 90s and heat indexes in the 100s. 

Enter my SPIbelt! 

It's like a fanny pack, but cooler! 

This SPIbelt (small personal items belt) contains my OneTouch mini meter, lancet, and strips vial (because putting the whole meter case in there was too bulky), a sleeve of glucose tabs, and of course my CGM.  I'd like to be able to fit a few more things in there, like my glucagon or cell phone, but these are the essentials for running. 

So yesterday morning I wanted to give this new accessory a try.  Trey and I decided to get up for a morning run at 7 AM, when the humidity would only be stifling instead of unbearable.  The belt did great!  I could hear the zipper bouncing on the outside of the pack as we ran, but the pack wasn't bouncing against me--and that was the main goal.  I already noticed that the pack works the best slightly off-center from my spine, so there's no gap between the pack and my body. 

The run was fun, too.  We only went 2.0 miles, which was enough for me as a run-hater.  But I could slowly see myself getting into running, as long as as I have my SPIbelt and a running buddy.  =) 

Disclaimer:  SPIbelt did not ask me to write about their product, nor did they provide any compensation.  I had to buy this sucker myself, so all opinions are my own. 

I'll Take That A1c!!!

This morning I had my quarterly endo appointment.  But today didn't start out very optimistic and sunny, quite the opposite.  Severe thunderstorms were entering our region and causing power outages across the area.  It's really freaky to be driving on the road and watching the street lights go out!

Anywho.

I get to the parking garage, check my blood sugar (118 mg/dL), and head to the office armed with my Dexcom printouts.  I only wait 30 minutes (woo!) before my name was called.  The nurse takes my weight (I didn't ask her if it had gone down since last time, I didn't wanna know), my blood pressure (122/86), and my blood sugar (118 mg/dL, yay for accuracy!) and A1c draw.  I've written before that it is torture to get my A1c taken at my doctor's because I have the pleasure of watching the timer inch its way down from 5 minutes to 0:00.  My heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest before I saw the number.

I'll take that. 

"Good job," the nurse said.  "The doctor will be in shortly."  I immediately texted Trey the number, to which he responded, "woohoo!"

My doctor walked in and excitedly said, "Hi, Holly!"  He was obviously pleased with my decrease in my A1c from 6.8% back in February.  He asked me how I thought my blood sugars were doing, and I said I was pleased with them but just trying to avoid the lows with working out.  We also discussed the possibility of me getting pregnant, and my doctor made the point that even though I'm doing well with my control now, that it's much easier to be in control when you're doing it for someone else.  That is so true!  There have been plenty of times where I SWAGed for a piece of cake or didn't wait 30 minutes after taking a bolus to eat because I didn't care about the consequences.  If I were pregnant at those times, I guarantee that I would think twice about SWAGing for the key lime pie.

I was also given a copy of my lab work that I had done last week, and this is the first time I've ever been given a copy of the results.  It's quite extensive, but my doctor said my results were stellar.  I can spend time deciphering all the codes later.  He scheduled my next appointment and left.  I grabbed my mounds of paperwork (Dexcom graphs, pump downloads, and lab work results) and made my way to the receptionist to checkout.

I started getting a little choked up thinking about all the hard work I've done, the hope of a successful pregnancy, and the peace that my body is perfectly healthy despite having a chronic illness. I celebrated my success my grabbing a caramel macchiato on the way to work.

Now, about that coffee addiction . . .

Doctors, Doctors, Everywhere!!!

Life has been insanely busy lately, from my crazy work schedule to keeping up with somewhat of a social life, I've been out of the social media/blogging loop.  Thankfully, my diabetes has somewhat behaved during all of this.  My current 30-day average on my meter has been hovering around 140 mg/dL.  (Thank you, diabetes gods!)  But I have several doctor's appointments coming up that make diabetes hard to ignore. 

Last Friday, I went to have blood drawn to look at all my levels including cholesterol, lipids, and (of course) A1c.  And my pathetically small veins made it hard for the nurse to get enough blood in the vial at first.  She had to squeeze my upper arm to make enough come out.  So this lead to having to keep the needle in my arm for half a second longer than I wanted it to.  Next time, I'll just take a jog up and down the hall to get my blood pumping. 

This weekend, I downloaded my latest Dexcom graphs, and it looks like my A1c should land around 5.8 (median) to 6.1% (mean).  I feel really good about this A1c, but I had similar graphs before my last appointment when my A1c came back at 6.8%.  Most people would probably be happy with this number, but I'd rather be below 6.5% before we get pregnant.  Even though we're not trying right now, I don't want to have to wait on diabetes when we are ready.  I've been trying to keep my A1c in the baby-safe range for the past year, so that all my doctors and company will give us the green light without hesitation. 

The other numbers that I'm not so excited about is my weight and consequent blood pressure.  I was really diligent with my diet and exercise until we were without power a for week due to some local tornadoes.  After that, work got crazy and all I could manage to keep up was a spinning class once a week and playing on my company's softball team.  Diet?!  Pssssht!  What diet?!  I've done more eating out and SWAGing this past month than I care to admit.  So I'm hoping that my physical exercise is enough to give me a normal BP reading, at least.  I've been testing on my own about once a week, and although I've been landing in a normal range, there's always white coat syndrome.  Weight-wise, I'm exactly where I was in February, even though my legs appear a bit toned thanks to spinning.  I'm trying to get back in the groove with exercise AND diet. 

Non-diabetes wise, I also have a dentist's appointment the week following my endo appointment.  And I also need to schedule an appointment with a PCP, and I'm still on the hunt for one I can be comfortable with. 

Such is the life with diabetes, it seems.  Just as soon as life gets busy enough to make diabetes the background noise in your life, you get an alert on your calendar to go get blood work done for your endocrinologist's appointment the next week.  Then diabetes comes back into full focus, exactly where I hate for it to be. 

At least I have a new toy (re: Nook) to keep me entertained in the waiting area. 

How NOT to Correct a Low

I know I promised you guys a post about the rest of the week following the tornado (and I promise I'm working on it), but I decided to split up the seriousness with a how-not-to guide to correcting a middle-of-the-night low blood sugar, which was inspired from events last night.  

How to Correctly Address a Low Blood Sugar:  

• Respond to CGM alarm or low blood sugar symptoms.  
• Test blood sugar.  
• Eat 15 grams of fast-acting carbohydrates.  
• Wait 15 minutes and test blood sugar again.  
• If blood sugar is in-range, eat a protein-filled snack.  If not, repeat steps until blood sugar rises.     

How to NOT Correct a Low Blood Sugar:  

• Remove itchy CGM site and resolve to put on a new one in the morning rather than stay up 2 hours to calibrate and more than likely be awoken all night to false readings.  
• Wake up at midnight, drenched in sweat, heart pounding out of my chest, legs refusing to move.  
• Stumble to bathroom to test blood sugar:  42 mg/dL. 
• Decide that wiping sweat off of entire body is more important than getting to the kitchen for juice. 
• Shuffle to the kitchen and turn on the light.  
• Fill a glass full with mango juice and suck it down in 2 seconds.  
• Decide that one glass isn't enough and suck down another. 
• Eat about 3 handful of M&Ms. 
• Eat 10 pepperoni slices (I have no idea on this one, but I was on low brain so . . . yeah).  
• Drink a glass of milk.  
• Finish off a bag of dried apricots of which there were about 20 (I think) left.  
• Eat a few more M&Ms.
• Walk back to the bathroom to wipe sweat off of hair.  
• Fall back in bed to a slightly awoken spouse, "You OK?" he asked.  "Yeah, I just ate about half the kitchen.  I hope you didn't want any mango juice."  
• Decide that the low was extremely over-corrected, but don't care and just want to go to sleep.  
• Wake up to a fasting blood sugar of 316 mg/dL and curse at diabetes.  

And now you know.  =)  

Freakin' Out!!!

I have a confession to make:  I'm not the most graceful, organized person (please contain your shock), especially when I'm stressed.  And when it comes to the devices of technology that I rely on to keep me alive, I am particularly anxious.  If one of them goes missing, I pretty much become a basket case. 

Yesterday I started a new project at work, which wouldn't be an incredibly stressful thing except I also had my first softball game yesterday.  So I was at a new place and out of my routine--something that diabetics thrive on.  I had already missed my afternoon snack, sending me low in the middle of a lab test, so I was already frazzled.  With 15 minutes left before I needed to leave, I went to the bathroom to change from my work clothes to my softball clothes. 

I was wearing a really pretty peasant dress yesterday that had no pockets.  Arnold was securely tucked away in my undergarments, but Constance would switch from my purse to my jacket pocket so I could keep an eye on her.  In my hurry to get dressed, I put Constance in my shorts pocket when my medical ID got caught on a loose string.  I pulled with one, swift jerking motion and *SNAP* the lobster clasp broke.  "Fantastic!" I sarcastically retorted.  I had this bracelet since my diagnosis, so it was bittersweet to know it was broken (even though it was still sporting my maiden name).  I threw my broken bracelet into my bag, threw my hair into a ponytail, and headed out to my car. 

I called Trey on the way, and he asked if I was going to eat before my game at 6 PM.  "I'm stopping at a gas station right now to get a candy bar or something."  I was about to get out of my car when I reached for Constance in my pocket . . . except she wasn't there!  "Nooooooo . . ." I whispered.  I immediately freaked!  I frantically started going through my gym bag, purse, jacket where she hung out most of the day.  I got out of the car and thoroughly inspected underneath the passenger and driver's seats.  I forgot the candy bar and jumped back in my car headed back to the lab where I just came from.

 I ran back to the lab the same way I came out, scanning the parking lot for my black-colored egg, starting my Easter celebrations early.  I went back to the bathroom where I got dressed and got on the floor looking for my trusty CGM.  I made 2 more loops around the parking lot (I considered this my "warming up" for the game) before giving up and deciding that my poor little CGM was lost somewhere in a dark place, crying and BEEEEEEEPing for me to find her.  I fell back in my car, exhausted and crying, I kept saying "No, no, no!!!" over and over. 

I was already considering making some of these. 

I immediately called Dexcom and inquired how much a new receiver would be.  They told me that since my receiver was still under warranty that I would only have to pay half of its normal value (just FYI if you've ever wondered).  I decided to wait on ordering another one because I'm not the greatest at finding things, especially when I'm running late/stressed/tears running down my face.  I told myself I would wait until I got home and Trey and I could take apart the car together. 

I parked at the softball fields, already running 10 minutes late, I decided to go through the car one. more. time.  I go through my gym bag, purse, and jacket on the passenger's side as well as looking underneath the seat (also note to self:  Holly, clean your car!  Pretty sure I interrupted some dust mites having dinner).  Then I go over to the driver's seat and looked between the seat and the center console . . . and there she was, neatly tucked between the seat belt clasp and the center console department.  I could barely see the familiar opening where the charger cable plugs into.  It was as if I put her there on purpose.  

I pushed my monstrous hands (yes, for a girl, I have big hands) pass the seat and grab my long-lost CGM and actually kissed it!  "Thank you!" I said as a prayer back to God for the many, many "Please help me find it!"s I said on the way to the ballpark.  I breathed a sigh of relief and headed to the field, contemplating using duct tape to tape the receiver to my leg.  Constance showed that I was 153 mg/dL headed straight up (hello, stress). 

So I ended up having a great game, including scoring a nice welt on my left leg from a slide.  I went home and Trey and I ordered me a new medical ID.  All the while I kept patting my pocket every 5 minutes seconds to make sure that Constance didn't decide to fall out again. 

Relaxing on the Weekend

Managing diabetes is best done on a consistent routine.  As such, I'm very diligent about my diabetes management during the week.  I eat the same thing for breakfast almost everyday, and it's easy for me to count my carbs using my handy dandy MFP app.  I also have an accommodating job that allows me to hear Constance and test whenever I need to.  Barring some 2-hour long meeting or the random tornado warning that sends the entire office down into the basement (like maybe today?), diabetes and me work well during the week.

However, the weekend is a totally different story.  My weekends start as soon as I leave the office on Friday afternoons, because we usually go out to dinner with friends.  Then, on Saturdays we hang out around the house, consuming a big breakfast and 2 pots of coffee while watching some home remodeling shows.  If we don't have any immediate plans, I will spend a few hours cleaning the house, so there's some exercise.  I try to be diligent about testing at least before meals, but I admit I rely on Constance to alert me to a high or a low.  On Sundays, we head to church, have lunch, and I spend the afternoon doing laundry and getting ready for another week.  Again, I test before each meal, but I forget to check 2 hours later to see if I'm still in-range.  This is pretty much my routine for every weekend we are in town.  And if we happen to go out of town to visit family or family comes to us, then diabetes management all but goes out the window. 

This is something I'm trying to nip in the bud, especially since I'm planning for pregnancy and I can't take a break on the weekends with a little bud growing inside of me.  I'm pretty sure if you did an average of my BG readings per day of the week, it would be around 120 mg/dL on Wednesdays and 180 mg/dL on Saturdays.  If you take the average of these weighted by the day of the week (cuz I'm a math nerd), that gives me an average of 137 mg/dL.  I'm either going to have to lower my average during the week (which I don't want to do, especially since I've got the exercise thing going on), or try to wrangle in these weekend numbers. 

I've tried to do some things like increasing my protein intake for those big Saturday morning breakfasts or having a lighter lunch in preparation for the larger dinners.  I'm also trying to sneak in an exercise session on Sunday afternoons like bike riding or walking the dogs, something that I enjoy that's not as intense as my exercises during the week.  This past weekend, I was getting really frustrated with seeing my 24 hour line hanging out around my 180 mg/dL threshold that I thought I had a bad site or bad insulin.  But this morning I woke up at 133 mg/dL and dropped to 60 mg/dL by the time I got to work.  Nope, it wasn't a bad site or bad insulin, just bad diabetes management or what I like to call "User Error." 

"I'll be right here if you need me." 

So I have this idea . . .

Ever since I came up with the term no-hitter in regards to going 24 hours without an alarm on a CGM, I've had a bunch of hits on that post.  I've seen the term show up in a lot of places, and it's made me proud to see that.  And since the term refers to baseball (and it's opening day), I've decided to create the No-Hitter Hall of Fame. 

The idea is pretty simple:  let's post our no-hitters in one place as a place of encouragement and honor.  Include your name, date of your no-hitter, your personal high/low thresholds, and what you were doing on the day of your no-hitter (like "eating salad all day and doing nothing" or "ate pizza then ran a 5K").  Very rarely do we get medals for "winning" at diabetes (unless you've been living with it more than 50 years, and I've got very long to go before that), and what better way to feel like a winner than to be part of a hall of fame?!

You can email me your no-hitter at arnoldandme at gmail dot com.  So far I've added mine and Stacey's no-hitter, and I would love to get more! 

Hello, is This Thing On?

I think Dexcom might be on to me.  *looks over shoulder*  You see, I was able to extend a lot of my sensors beyond their 7-day standard life to 10 days up to 19 days.  This delayed me ordering another shipment for almost 2 months.  So I think they secretly programmed all of my new sensors to die exactly on day 7 so that doesn't happen again. 

I'm almost done with the first of 4 boxes of my latest Dexcom shipment, and each of those sensors have lasted 7-8 days and no more.  My last sensor got the pink slip after it failed to alert me to a 35 mg/dL low and my current sensor started giving me "Sensor Failed" after I restarted it after its first 7 days. 

My diligence to try to extend my sensors has only led frustration and lack of valid data for 10 of the past 24 hours.  After 2 hours of "???" post-dinner, I was about to change out the sensor before bed.  But it came back to life for 30 minutes.  When I gave it my bedtime BG test, it responded with "Sensor Error #1", which standard protocol calls to wait one hour and try recalibrating.  Not willing to stay up for another hour, I simply turned off the receiver with intentions to try to recalibrate it the next morning. 

I turned the receiver back on and gave it my morning BG reading, and again I got "Sensor Error #1".  "Fine!  Die on me on Day 8!  See if I care!"  So I pulled the sensor out and put a new on post-shower (so it was half a free shower day).  Two and a half hours later, it prompted me for my 2 BG readings. 

Frustration. 

I really don't like when I don't have a CGM overnight, but luckily my BG behaved.  I know I shouldn't get upset about my sensors doing exactly what they're supposed to do--lasting 7 days.  But the frugal side of me still wants to make these things last as long as possible.