Halfway There!

As of last week, I have officially lost half of my baby weight! I'm down 7.5 lbs, and I feel great about it! I got on my first pair of pre-pregnancy jeans this past weekend. I had a huge muffin top and the button felt like it was about to pop off, but they were buttoned (dangit)!

I'm losing weight at a rate of half a pound every week, which I'm happy with. I'm mainly sticking to strength training using the Total Gym because it doesn't cause my blood sugar to drop and I'm increasing my metabolism. I sneak in a 30-minute workout in the mornings while monkey takes her nap. She usually won't give me much more than that. If Trey is home or the grandparents are visiting, I will go out for a run around our neighborhood.

I'm glad that I am losing weight, but I do wish it would come off a little faster. At this rate, I'll hopefully lose it all by January--that is if the holidays don't totally mess me up.  I just wish it didn't take so much effort! I am working out almost every weekday and sometimes on the weekends. I've tried cutting back on my diet, but it never seems to be enough to warrant more than a half pound/week weight loss. I just keep telling myself that slow and steady will win the race, little turtle.

I know not everyone can lose the baby weight, so I am grateful that I've lost even this much. I just hope losing the 2nd half isn't harder. Even if I get down to my pre-pregnancy number, my body will never be the same. I'm still getting used to having a tummy, which I have never EVER had. But all this working out will mean that even at my pre-pregnancy number, I'll be much more toned than I was before monkey was here. 

Losing It

Two weeks ago, I had my 6-week pp appointment with my OB. I have been cleared to resume my normal physical activities, including working out. When I was pregnant and watching the scale continue to increase, I said to myself I wouldn't worry about the number as long as me and baby were healthy. Well, now we're on the other side of pregnancy, and I'm staring at a closet full of clothes that I still can't wear. 

Officially, I gained 40-45 lbs (depending upon the scale) by the time my daughter was born. By my 6-week appointment, where I officially count my "need to lose weight", I was +15 lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight. And considering I wanted to be 15 lbs lighter than that to reach the "healthy" range, I have about 30 lbs to lose all together. 

Losing that much weight seems like a lofty goal, but I'm not planning on any crash diets or exercise regimen to get me there. I figured it took me 9 months to put it on and it will take at least that long to take it off. So I'm tracking my progress using the MyFitnessPal tracker up there at the top of my blog. This is basically my way (weigh?) of keeping myself accountable. I like MFP because they have a huge database of food to track, plus they add in calories based on exercise. So I won't go hungry because I'm starving and just ran 2 miles; I can eat those burned calories if I want. 

I started working out again last week using the Total Gym. I've said multiple times on here that I loathe going to the gym and much prefer working out at home. Plus, with a little one with me, I feel better about working out while she is in earshot. So I'll be utilizing the Total Gym, some Wii software, and some workout videos on Netflix as my arsenal for toning this flabby body. And once the weather cools down outside, I'll try to start a running routine with the jogging stroller (because neither one of us enjoy being outside while it's 90+ degrees Fahrenheit). 

As far as dieting, I'll mainly be trying to limit my carb intake as much as I can handle and upping the protein. I'll have my splurges now and then, but that keeps me sane rather than trying to go cold turkey (hey protein!). I enjoy food, and I see no reason to completely cut out a food group. Everything in moderation, right? 

I hope to find some routine that works and can be enjoyable at the same time. Because regardless of the number on the scale, I need to enjoy what I'm doing while I work out. Maybe I can enjoy my gym time as much as my daughter does:  

New Lifestyle, New Basal Rates

Before I got pregnant, my basal rates were dictated by my schedule.  When I got up, how busy my work was, when I tried to work out most days, when I went to bed, etc.  So I had several basal rates throughout the day.  When I got pregnant, I stuck with one basal rate for the whole day, mainly because my rates changed so often that it was useless to try and nail down a change for every hour of the day.  

I ended up being way too aggressive with my rates, giving me a lot of lows, but I justified it with the little monkey growing inside me.  But now that my daughter is on the outside and it's been 5 weeks since my surgery, I'm finally starting to nail down some basal rates that actually mirror my new life.  

And what a life it is!  My new life revolves around this sweet little girl napping next to me.  Instead of going to meetings and spending most of my day in front of a computer, usually programming something in MATLAB, I go back and forth between changing diapers, feeding my daughter, burping her, and trying to do some housework while she naps.  And that changes everyday as she gets bigger and sleeps less during the day (but she's currently starting to sleep 6 hours at night, which I can function with).  

One disadvantage to being at home all the time is that there is an abundant source of snack food at my disposal, whereas when I went to work I would only pack what I needed to eat for lunch and a few snacks.  So I'm noticing that I tend to go high around the afternoons when my snacking tends to get the best of me and I may miss a bolus or two.  Plus, with breastfeeding I tend to stay hungrier all throughout the day.  It's like I have to eat right after she eats.  

Immediately after her birth, my endocrinologist instructed me to go back to my pre-pregnancy basal rate, which I tried to remember to the best of my knowledge.  But it looks like I need about 80% of that rate right now, which is mostly due to breastfeeding because I'm still +15 lbs from before pregnancy.  This rate is perfect overnight because I usually wake up around the 80s, but I definitely need more during the daytime.  

So now that monkey and I are starting to get into a routine, I'm finally starting to make some changes to even out my numbers.  Of course, I'm sure this will all change in a few months, because diabetes likes to do that just because.  Next week is my 6-week follow up with my OB, and that means I'll be able to released to exercise.  And that's a whole 'nother post altogether! 

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. 

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. 

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. 

Stress and Diabetes

The past 2 weeks have been super stressful, feeling like I've been stretched at every limb.  Multiple projects at work combined with house renovations going on at home has me searching for a hole to crawl in to avoid them all.  It literally feels like I have a ball of wires strapped around my neck, and the wires have choked me to point I can barely breathe.  Monday was really bad because I was searching for a boarding kennel for the pups for a trip out of town this weekend.  They've never been boarded before, so I was stressing out about trying to find the best one in town. 

And thanks to the tornadoes that came through in April, we've had the joy of getting our roof replaced and some drywall redone.  For both of these events, I was at home "supervising" the contractors (re: I hid in the guest bedroom with my Nook) while listening to the banging and sawing on all sides.  Then, when I would come out of my escape, I would see the house in a mess.  Nothing stresses me out more than strangers causing a mess in my house.  NOTHING!  After the drywall contractors left, Trey and I had to leave for a movie date (Harry Potter, DH2) so I couldn't immediately start cleaning up like I wanted to. 

I started noticing the stress in my numbers when I was waking up in the 170s.  I knew I had 2 options:  increase my basal or try to reduce my stress level.  I can tell when I get really stressed because I become physically exhausted.  And it hasn't helped that I haven't been able to work out as much with everything going on the work/home fronts.  I was able to make my softball game last night, and even though we lost, I could instantly feel some relief from all the stress.  My numbers felt the relief, too, because I cruised in the 70s overnight.

Unfortunately, the stress isn't over yet.  Between the trip this weekend, family visiting next weekend, and trying to stay above water at work, I need a game plan.  I've decided that I am going to workout on my new Total Gym first thing when I get home, regardless of how much I just want to plop on the couch and not move a muscle.  I need to clean the house.  I need to get the carpets cleaned.  I need to make sure we have enough towels for 8 people being in my house all at once.  However, I first need to take care of me, and that includes taking care of my diabetes.  But I also need to take care of my mental health. 

The correlation between diabetes and depression is too strong to ignore.  I feel so much better when I can strap on my earbuds and jam out to P!NK while busting it out on the elliptical.  I can feel the tangled ball on my neck begin to loosen and I feel like I can handle things better than before.  I just need to keep in mind that this season of stress is only temporary and my beach vacation is only 5 weeks away.  I need to staple that vacation pamphlet to my forehead. 

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. 

The Rest of That Week

About 2 weeks ago, I promised to recap the rest of the week after the April 27th tornadoes that came through our area.  So what has happened since then that has prevented me from doing so?  I've been locked away in a lab doing some high voltage tests on flight instruments, unable to keep up with the social media world.  (I'VE MISSED YOU GUYS!!!)  But I do want to give you guys a small recap, because diabetes was in the mix during all that mess. Then I can get back to regular diabetes shenanigans.

The morning after the storms was like camping.  We broke out the Coleman stove and our camping kitchenware and made fried eggs and oatmeal.  We were also able to make coffee using boiled water and our French press (I knew that thing would come in handy one day).  After breakfast, we attempted to begin the cleanup process.  Trey began cleaning up the yard, and I proceeded to cleanup . . . the house?!  As strange as it sounds, it made me feel better during all the chaos to keep a clean house. 

Soon after we cleaned up, we got a call that a relative of ours had an extra generator they could lend us.  So we hopped in the car with barely enough gas to get us there and back.  We attempted to get gas while we were out, but most places were either without power or had lines over 2 miles long.  You'd waste more gas sitting in line than what you would get.  While we were out, I got in touch with most of our friends to make sure they were OK, but cell phone connection was spotty at best. 

Back at home, we hooked up the generator and plugged in all our necessary appliances:  refrigerator, freezer, coffee pot, the essentials.  We also plugged in the radio, which was our main source of communication to the outside world.  Callers would tell the DJs where there was gas, generators, food, etc. 

And when we weren't outside cleaning up debris, we were inside listening to the radio and getting by on our own entertainment.  Trey would play one of his non-online games on his laptop, and I would lose myself in the book Helter Skelter.  I've always wanted to read this book, and this week provided the perfect opportunity.  It's been such a long time since I read a book for fun, and with nothing else to do all day, I would camp out on the couch and read until there wasn't anymore light.  I would even go outside and read on the patio to get the last few minutes of daylight that I could.  I finished the book on the last day before we got power back. 

We eventually settled into a routine each day where we would get up, turn on the generator, make some breakfast, clean up our yard or help out our neighbors with their yard, fix some lunch, hang out listening to the radio while reading or playing, make dinner, and go to bed with the sun around 8 PM.  Showers became something I looked forward to and feared at the same time with temperatures around, oh, freezing.  As some restaurants became open (on generators), we would spend most of our meals out just to escape the house for awhile.  This lead to the decline in my diabetes control. 

The first part of the week, my numbers were awesome.  We were spending most of our time pretty active in cleaning up the branches and tree limbs in our yard.  But towards the end of the week when were just hanging out and going out to eat, my numbers started creeping up.  Also, I was missing one thing pretty vital to my diabetes management--routine!  I was so out of sorts without exercising and carb counting.  I bumped up my basal rates towards the end of the week to account for the creeping, and they've stayed there ever since.  I'm hoping that they can start to come back down now that I can keep a steady routine. 

Six days later we got power back, and 13 days later we got cable/internet.  The debris is (mostly) gone and life has gotten back to (somewhat) normal.  And I've learned several things that I need to be better prepared for another natural disaster:  a battery-powered or hand-crank radio, back-up to my back-up D supplies (thankfully, I just did a pharmacy refill right before the storms), and always ALWAYS have a good book on hand. 

As the cleanup here still goes on and we see the saddening effects of other storms in Joplin and other areas, I hope we all take a moment to be better prepared and remember those who lost their lives.  We were EXTREMELY lucky during all this to only have lost a tree and some meat in the freezer.  Some people lost everything!  I still get a little choked up on my ride home where the horizon of pine trees has been lost to what looks like toothpicks with no branches.  Thanks to everyone who sent me texts and emails asking if we were OK.  Above everything else, I'm so glad to have the love of the DOC! 

Identify Yourself

As I mentioned in my post last week, my first medical ID bracelet broke when it got caught on a loose string.  Here is the broken bracelet:

You can see the broken lobster clasp in the upper right corner. 

So I got online that night to order a new one.  Why the urgency to buy another bracelet?  I know some diabetics wear a medical ID, some don't, and some rely on their insulin pump to be their ID.  My mom ordered my first ID before I even got out of the hospital, so she obviously believed in the power of the medical ID.  And I can't count how many times I've heard of car wrecks where the driver experienced "diabetic symptoms" (as the radio announcer calls it). 

But what really put me over the edge to have a medical ID at all times is a conversation I had with an EMT friend last year.  He noticed my bracelet and praised me for being responsible for wearing one.  I honestly asked him if wearing this thing was even worth it, or was I wasting good wrist space for a cuter piece of jewelry.  "Oh no," he said, "It's definitely worth it, especially if you wear it on your wrist.  If you're debilitated, an EMT will check your pulse on your wrists' first as part of a vitals check.  And if they see you have a chronic disease that could be contributing to you being out of it, the faster we can treat you."

So there you have it, from the mouth of the one person or party who would actually use my medical ID.  It's worth it.  By far, it's the cheapest life-saving device you can buy. 

But that doesn't mean my medical ID can't be cute, either.  So back to my online hunt.  I wanted an ID that would be cute but also obviously a medical ID.  I eventually stumbled upon StickyJ where I found pretty decently priced IDs with a plethora of bracelet options.  I settled on a heart-shaped charm with my full name on the front and my conditions on the back. 

I have diabetes in my heart. 

I wear this ID at all times, even during softball games when we're technically not supposed to wear any jewelry.  No one's ever given me trouble about it, but I will argue that this is not a piece of jewelry to me.  This small piece of sterling silver is just as vital as my insulin pump or CGM in my diabetes management. 

I try to tell as many people as I can that I'm diabetic when safety situations call for it (like my spinning instructor, softball coach, and lab coordinator), but this bracelet would be able to tell the world when I can't. 

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." 

Something's Working

So 5 weeks have passed since my endo appointment where I was told to lose 10 pounds in order to help my elevated-but-not-high blood pressure issues.  The first week, I upped my workout routine and decreased my diet mainly be getting rid of snacks and alcohol, and I lost one pound that week.  After that, I was stalled, stuck, not moving, etc. for 3 weeks!!  I stayed at the same weight for 3 weeks, battling lows after workouts, and constantly adjusting my basal rates.  Luckily, I never gained, because I'm unsure if that would have made me give up. 

It finally seemed like I found something that worked, BG-wise, for my basal rates because I stopped having so many unexplained lows and tweaked temporary basals for workouts.  For example, for spinning class, I disconnect Arnold an hour before the class and don't bolus for my afternoon snack, which has to have a good combination of carbs and protein in it.  I was finally able to go a week without having a low after working out.  After that week, I broke my plateau and lost half a pound!  It may not seem like much, but after 3 weeks of no change, I was happy to see any change at all! 

This past week, I decided to change up a few things and do some different workouts via Netflix (other than the Wii.  sorry, virtual trainer.) and increased my intensity at spinning class by increasing my resistance on the bike.  And I did my best to maintain my diet during the week with some splurging on the weekend (I have to, or else I'll go insane!).  I figured all this would (hopefully) lead to another half pound loss, but when I got on the scale this morning I saw a loss of one pound!!!  A whole pound!  I couldn't believe it!  I actually smiled and said, "Huh," which is a lot of emotion for 5 AM in the morning. 

So since my appointment, I have lost 2.5 pounds.  But personally I have lost 4 pounds since the beginning of this year.  Some people might not consider that a big deal, but for a type 1 diabetic having to balance cardio with insulin it's a huge deal!  Plus, I'd rather not lose a whole bunch at once because I'll be more likely to bounce back up.  I would love to keep up a one pound/week loss, but I'd feel safer with half a pound/week.  Besides, it took me about 8 years to gain 20 pounds (hello, Freshman 15 plus five), so it's going to take some time for my body to get used to being lighter and stay that way. 

I still have a ways to go:  7.5 pounds to meet my endo's goal and 14.5 to my personal goal.  I really think the spinning class has a lot to do with it, honestly.  I burn over 300 calories in 45 minutes in that class alone.  One of the things that's a challenge right now is changing up my diet to keep my body guessing.  It's so easy, diabetes-wise, to eat roughly the same thing everyday because I know how my body reacts to it.  I'm slowly introducing different foods into my diet other than Greek yogurt, fiber cereal, and popcorn.  All of those are fine, but I have all of those multiple times during the week.  So I'd love any suggestions for changing up my food wardrobe if you have any. 

I'm feeling really good today, not just because of the weight loss, but because I've found something that I love doing even if my weight loss stalls.  I keep saying to myself, "Just keep spinning, just keep spinning.  Spinning, spinning, spinning . . . " 

Lows with Lowering Weight

So it's been 2 weeks since my endo suggested that I lose 10 lbs in order to lower the elevated blood pressure I've been having.  And I've stuck to my diet for the most part (usually within 100 calories of my goal) and have kept up a good workout routine including 2 spinning classes a week, jogging 2 miles around my neighborhood, and frequenting my Wii Fit Plus. 

I knew once I started losing weight that my insulin needs would decrease.  This has been evident by the increased number of lows that I've been having.  As far as the scale goes, I've only lost one pound since my appointment, but my body feels like it's more.  But I need to something about these lows because the calories spent correcting them will only hinder my weight loss.  For example, an 8-minute ride on the stationary bike at physical therapy had me at 47 mg/dL?! 

I don't think my basal rate(s) need to be messed with at this time, because my nighttime numbers are spot on if I go to bed in range (80-130 mg/dL).  The majority of my lows seem to occur after working out, which means I'm not disconnecting Arnold soon enough or I'm jacking up my IOB from my meals.  And my insulin:carb ratio seems to have my post-prandials a little lower than I like for them to be.  So I decreased my I:C ratio from 1:12 to 1:15 in hopes of avoiding these lows, and I'll make a point to disconnect Arnold (or at least turn him down) to avoid the post-workout lows. 

But I would love to hear from another type 1 diabetic who has successfully lost weight!  Please, help me figure out how to avoid these lows so I'm not wasting a spinning class on glucose tabs.  And as delicious as it is, I'm getting tired of eating spoonfuls of peanut butter before bed.  Any advice/suggestions would be extremely helpful! 

(Not So) Ruined Workout

Yesterday afternoon I went to my second (ever) spinning class. I'm still trying to figure out my insulin levels before this workout, because my greatest fear is going low during the class. Well, that fear came true yesterday.

It all started when I decided to have a snack (Fiber One Oats & Chocolate bar) in the afternoon. Dumbo me actually bolused for the whole bar (29 g) and I forgot to subtract the fiber for the net carbs, which seems to help me avoid lows on a regular, non-workout day. Also, I didn't disconnect Arnold until 30 minutes before the class. Last time, I disconnected an hour before, and even though I went for a half-mile walk beforehand to warm up my legs, I still didn't crash. So all these forces combined (like Captain Planet?) to have me at 83 mg/dL going south before the class according to Constance. I downed 5 glucose tabs as fast as I could, said a prayer, and hopped on the bike.

The class gets started. We warm up with our "leisurely stroll through the countryside", followed by sprint intervals. I checked Constance after the sprints and she said I was now 52 mg/dL heading southeast! I didn't hear her alarm over the blaring music, so I'm going to have to figure out a better scenario for having Constance in plain view rather than relying on hearing her. Frustrated, I threw my little bag down on the floor, almost to say, "Screw you, diabetes, I'm gonna keep spinning until I pass out." We start doing climbs in the standing position, and I notice that I almost lose my balance. "Hmmm, something must be wrong with this bike," I thought. Or your blood sugar, silly.

After the climbs the instructor told us to take a water break. Most people stay on the bike and keep pedaling while they grab their water from the holster below the handlebars. I finally got a level head and decide to jump off the bike and test. I could feel the 6 pairs of eyes on me all at once, but I had to do it for my own safety. By this point, Constance said I had leveled out to 55 mg/dL, so it seems my glucose tabs were finally kicking in. A test confirmed I was at 70 mg/dL, a little higher than my CGM. After that test, I felt confident enough that I could finish the rest of the 20 minutes of class. I jump back on the bike to finish out the class with some jumps.

The class ends, we stretch it out, I put my bike up, and walk back to the locker room to test my blood sugar again: 61 mg/dL. I eat 4 more glucose tabs, and call Trey, "Yeah, I'm gonna be a little while. I can't drive yet." With a mouth full of chalky remnants, I take a seat on the gym couches (really?! in the gym?) and wait out my low.

I love having couches at my gym. 

At this point my instructor comes out of the locker rooms, and she stops to say how good I am doing for being so new to the class.  "You're really keeping up with the rest of them," she smiles.  "Thanks," I said back.  "So, you're diabetic . . . " she inquires.  "Yep, type 1."  Then I go into how I wear an insulin pump and a CGM, the gizmo I was checking during class.  She seemed to be comprehending what I was attempting to explain, and finished with, "Well, you're doing great, so keep it up."  

Even though I completely wasted the calories that I burned with the amount of glucose tabs I ate, I know I'm doing more good for my leg muscles, lung capacity, and endurance.  That's the positivity I'm clinging to right now, because if I focus on the fact that diabetes stole my calorie burn for the day I would never return to the gym.  I know I'm building muscles that keep burning calories long after the workout is over, which increases my base metabolism.  And I'll keep figuring out my insulin needs, and perhaps I'll forgo the insulin for the afternoon snack altogether.  Either way, I can't give up on this.  I won't give up on this! 

Spinning? Insane!

So I bit the bullet yesterday and attended the spinning class I talked about.  I was actually nervous all day about it, checking Constance to make sure I was going to be at a good number before the class, and taking mental notes about my knee.  I had done some lunges the night before, and my knee was (not) thanking me for it.  But I decided I was at least going to try. 

I get to the gym and take a number for a bike; apparently, you have to reserve a spot for this class.  Another guy took a number for the class, and asked me if it was my first time.  "Yeah," I said sheepishly.  Well, the very nice gentleman gave me the run down on the bikes, how to adjust my seat, and how nice the instructor was.  "If you haven't warmed up your legs yet, I'd suggest doing so.  This class can get pretty intense," he advised.  "Thanks, but I just warmed up by doing the half-mile trail outside."  Before this, I had disconnected from Arnold in order to be "unplugged" for an hour by the time the class started.  I didn't want to take any chances of going low.  I checked my blood sugar before the class:  135 mg/dL--perfect, a little high but not crazy.  And I had Constance neatly tucked into a thigh holster I had purchased for my wedding: 

Apparently my pump and CGM are the same size in spandex. 

The instructor was running late, so the rest of the class members just started pedaling at their own pace as a warm-up.  I followed suit, making sure my feet were properly strapped in.  The instructor finally shows up, and the nice gentleman who helped me pointed me out to her as "We have a new person!"  Greaaaaaat, nothing like calling me out to the whole class to make me feel welcome.  She welcomes me and proceeds to tell me that my seat is too low.  We adjust my seat together, and she takes her spot at the front of the class. 

Now, anytime I've ever seen a spinning class on TV, I've always imagined a very sweaty Nazi-type lady with a perfect physique welling at everyone, "Faster!"  Turns out the devil wasn't the trainer (she was very nice), it was that stupid resistance knob!  After we warmed up, the instructor told us "Half a turn" and we would pick up the pace, standing on the bike, sprinting like our life depended on it.  My legs felt like they were on fire!  I honestly felt like stopping at one point, then the instructor said, "Twenty more seconds, all you've got!"  I thought, "I can do 20 more seconds."  I used that mindset the whole class when I felt like it was getting to be too much, "Just keep going, a few more seconds." 

We ended the class doing "jumps", which means anytime the instructor said "Up!" we had to stand up on our bike and pedal like a gazelle until she said, "Down!"  I wasn't as quick with my "jumps" as the other class members, but I held my own.  We did these jumps for about 5 minutes, then ended the class with the lowest resistance and a "nice leisurely stroll through the countryside" as my instructor said.  I kept a water bottle close at hand during the class, but I had my little bag of glucose tabs and mini meter behind my bike, just in case.  I check my blood sugar at the end of the class:  104 mg/dL!  I decided to remain unconnected for the drive home, in case my BG decided to take a nose dive after such an aerobic workout.  My knee never gave me any trouble, either, so no worries there. 

And what better way to arrive home than to my hubby making smoked salmon in the new grill for one of my favorite low-carb meals:  Salmon Caesar Salad.  And according to myfitnesspal, I burned 374 calories during my spinning class, which earned me the right to cheesecake after dinner in order to make my minimum calories for the day.  Yum! 

Oh yeah, and thank you guys so much for all the support after my Overwhelmed post.  I've realized that it's probably not just my weight that's contributing to my blood pressure problems, but also my stressful lifestyle.  I need to get out and do things that are fun, more than worrying about burning calories.  And as much as I liked the spinning class, I'm looking forward to hitting the trails again (maybe this weekend). 

Have a great weekend! 

Overwhelmed

Yesterday's endo appointment didn't go very well.  I wasn't really expecting it to go great, but I didn't expect it to be as bad as it was.  I had suspected that my A1c was going to increase from last time, but I figured I would land around my usual 6.5 that seems to follow me without much effort. 

My appointment was at 8:30 AM across the interstate in downtown, so of course I visited the closest coffee shop on the way to grab an Americano for the hour-long drive.  Armed with my Dexcom software graphs and coffee, I took a seat in the lobby and snapped a pic of the freakishly-empty waiting room.  (For those who know my endo or go to him for his care, you know the waiting is usually very full!) 

Not 20 minutes later, my name was called and the nurse led me to my room.  She took my weight and my blood pressure.  She was putting the sleeve back in its holster when I asked, "What was it?"  "130/90," she said.  Another elevated reading, this was something I was definitely going to bring up to my endo.  She also took my blood sugar (168 mg/dL) and began spinning my A1c.  What kills me about the A1c machines at me endo's office is that you can see the timer!  I was tortured watching the 5-minute clock slowly make it's way down to 0:00 waiting for my number.  During that time, the nurse downloaded my pump data and made sure all my medications were the same.  Finally, the clock goes down to 0:00 and I see the number before she does:  6.8%. 

I felt defeated.  I couldn't help it.  I know most people would be content, even happy, with this number.  But for me, this number is way too close to that 7.0% threshold required for pregnancy.  I immediately started thinking of changes I needed to make, but I barely had any time before the endo came in the room. 

He shook my hand and took a seat beside me, and he starts going over my Dexcom graphs with me.  This really surprised me, because my endo has been reluctant to the whole CGM thing so far.  So it was nice to see him wanting to use the tool I wanted for so long.  He said it looked like I was correcting too many times after a meal, resulting in a lot of lows.  He thinks my overall basal rates were too low, so we increased my total amount by making my basal rate one rate for the whole day.  I'm not sure I agree with this right now, but I know my basal rates are messed up, so it's best to start over with a single rate for now.  He also wanted me to increase my IOB time by 2 hours and make my target BG 120 mg/dL.  I compromised by increasing it to 1 hour and keeping my range at 100-120 mg/dL; I don't mind being at 120 mg/dL, but I refuse to treat 100 mg/dL as "low". 

Then I addressed the elevated blood pressure reading with him.  I told him I had been having a lot of appointments lately with my knee, and each time I was having elevated readings.  He agreed that he doesn't like this trend, so he took a look at my history with his office over the past 4 years and notice another upward trend:  my weight.  I've never had a huge gain all at once, just a few pounds here and there.  But a few pounds over a couple of years can sneak up on you.  He said the best thing I could do to reduce my blood pressure was to lose 10 pounds, or else we'd have to do "something".  I'm assuming he means I'll get put on blood pressure medication, which wouldn't be terrible because they could also protect my kidneys.  But I don't like knowing that I didn't do all that I could to be healthy on my own. 

So to recap:  increased A1c, weight, and blood pressure.  I debated calling Trey immediately after the appointment, because I knew it would result in tears.  And it did.  My poor husband can read me like a book, even over the phone.  And when he said, "I know you're about to cry . . ." I lost it.  "It's not the end of the world, Babe.  You're still doing great.  We just need to change some things."  We agreed that we had been calling the local pizza place too many times over the last few months when we had no plans for dinner.  And even though I've increased my physical activity over the past couple months, I need to bump it up.  I've decided to give the spinning class a try (now that my knee is feeling better.  Thank you, physical therapy.), and softball is about to start up again.  Hopefully these things will help in the weight department. 

I really don't know how to end this post other than to say I'm feeling very overwhelmed right now.  Ten pounds seems so impossible, seeing as I'm struggling to keep 2 lbs off on a weekly basis.  I can log my food with some consistency and keep up a reasonable workout routine, but more than anything I need encouragement.  I need hope that this is not an impossible feat.  I just need to find something that works for me, but first I need to know that everything will be OK.  I need to stop freakin' crying about this and find some joy again. 

Sorry, guys.  I know this isn't how I wanted to end this post, but sometimes I need to be real.  And I hate this, period. 

Knee-Jerk Experience

So today's blog post is installment #4 of the saga that is my knee pain.  (You can read the other installments here, here, and here.)  This week's episode is about my visit to the orthopedist to see what he thought about my nagging knee.

I kind of started out in a bad mood, because my appointment was at 10:15 AM, which meant that I was going to get up and go to work for 2 hours then drive all the way back to this office.  (I normally like to make my appointments either really early or really late because of work, but this appointment was made for me by my PCP after my MRI appointment.  /digression)  And I found out that there is only one majority group of people who come to appointments like this in the middle of the day:  slightly older retired people. 

Most of the people I sat next to in the lobby sported a cane and white hair (if any).  I overheard some of their conversations about having their knees scoped, recovering from surgery, and (my favorite) "there's no arthritis in titanium".  The thought of having my knee scoped is about as pleasant as a root canal without a numbing shot.  I felt like I was looking into my very depressing future.

I sat there for over an hour, filling out paperwork, playing with my iPod, and waiting for my name to be called.  (However, the office did have free Wi-Fi, during which time I was able to download the Starbucks app.  I'm thinking we should petition all doctors' offices to have free Wi-Fi, no?)  They finally called my name, and I was escorted to another room.  During this time, I had a mild low (67 mg/dL) from the waiting and the fact it was getting close to my lunch hour.  I just knew I would meet the new doctor while chomping on some raspberry glucose tabs, but no such luck.

Then the doctor came in (with a medical student shadow, cool) and pulled out my MRI images.  He asked me about my pain, and I explained to him that I used to be a catcher and had been having pain off and on for about 8 months, mainly during cold weather, walking up and down stairs, and sitting still with crossed legs for a long time.  He said this pain is fairly common, especially in women because we generally have wider hips.  (Which is extremely evident on me, if you've ever seen my hips.  Which would be weird if we met and you remember what my hips looked like.  OK, nevermind, this is just getting awkward.)  And having wider hips makes the pressure on the knee disproportioned, and being a catcher probably didn't help either.  He showed me on the MRI where the radiologist thought my pain might be coming from, but he wasn't entirely convinced that it was degenerative meniscus.

"It hurts right here."  Around the bright white spot. 

So he prescribed that I do physical therapy for 4 weeks to try to correct the pressure on my knee, and a follow-up in 6 weeks.  This is where things start to get bad.  I go to the physical therapists' office next door to try to set up my times, and all they had available were "in the middle of work day" times.  I asked if there were any offices close to where I work and how long the sessions would be.  She told me they had offices downtown but the sessions are usually an hour or longer.  An hour or longer, for 3 times a week?!  I hardly have any sick time left due to usual diabetes management, I couldn't tack on physical therapy, too.  I told her that I would just have to call them later for some better times.

Between that, my glasses, and worrying about some blood pressures issues I've been having lately, I started to feel vulnerable and break down.  I called Trey after my appointment and, through my tears, attempted to tell him my diagnosis.  When he asked what was wrong I said, "I'm just tired of falling apart."  "OK, well just drive and collect yourself.  I'll talk to you later."  He knows that only continuing to talk about it was going to make me more upset.  So I took the 30 minute drive back to work to clear my mind and figure out what I wanted to do.

I got back to work, and while (finally) eating my lunch I tried to call some of the other physical therapy places listed on my prescription.  On the second place I called (the first was out to lunch), the nicest voice answered the phone.  When I told her I needed physical therapy but needed to do it either really early or really late, she informed me that they're open until 6 PM everyday and I should be able to get in.  Then she transferred me to the physical therapist who briefed me on what to do when I came in.  Even though it was only a phone call, it really lifted my spirits because they seemed so willing to work with me and around my schedule.  It was quite refreshing after the "you need to work around us" therapy center I came from. 

So that's the latest on le knee that's being a jerk right now (hello, post title).  I'm really hoping that I can fix this without scoping or surgery, and that I can learn some things I can do if the pain comes back again.  However, having titanium knees might be cool (and add to my bionic-womaness)!

Inside the Jackhammer Donut

Last Friday, I went to have an MRI done on my right knee that's been giving me pain for quite some time.  I arrived at the imaging place, filled out 3 pages of "new patient" forms, and took a seat.  Of course, I was able to snap a picture for the Waiting with Diabetes Flickr group.  (I've also noticed that I've already been to 4 doctor's appointments this year, which seems like way too many.) 

A nurse wearing Auburn (War Eagle!) scrubs called my name and she directed me to the back of the hallway towards this giant room with the MRI.  It looked like a monstrous donut with a bed inside the hole.  The nurse asked me to remove all of my jewelry, and I asked her, "So did they tell you about my hardware?"  She takes a look at my chart and says, "Oh, you wear an insulin pump?"  "And a constant glucose monitor, but I'd like to keep that in if I can.  It's kind of a pain to take out and insert."  I lifted up my shirt and showed her where I had the transmitter and sensor on my stomach with my huge Tegaderm patch over it.  She looked at it and said, "I think you can keep it on since we're examining your knee.  We can put you halfway in the MRI so it doesn't interfere with that."  I disconnected Arnold and shutdown Constance and put them in a toolbox with my purse, jacket, and jewelry. 

We go in the MRI room, and the nurse asked me to lay down on the bed and put my right knee in this foam contraption that would keep it still.  I felt like I was a mental patient being strapped down, except it was only my right knee--like it was demon possessed or something.  "OK, we'll slowly put you in the machine, but let me know if you feel any pulling on your stomach," the nurse said motioning to my sensor.  "OK," I said already tensing up, putting my hands over the sensor as if that was going to protect it.  She slowly rolled the bed into the donut hole until I was belt-high.  "Anything?" she asked.  "Nope."  "OK, I'm going to get you some headphones so you can listen to some music.  This thing sort of sounds like a jackhammer.  Try to lay as still as possible, it will last about 15 minutes." 

Just a little noisy. 

She gives me my headphones and I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on the station.  Then all of a sudden, a loud vibrating sound surrounds the room, like a mini-earthquake, and it was loud enough that I couldn't hear my music anymore.  It lasted about 5 minutes before it stopped.  I get about a minute reprieve before it started again, this time a little higher pitch.  I could feel my knee beginning to stiffen up, but I couldn't tell if it was from the MRI itself or the fact that I was clenching so bad.  This cycle continued two more times, mini-earthquake, silence, mini-earthquake, silence.  Then the music stops on my headphones, and I hear the door open.  "OK, that's it," the nurse said walking in.  I let out a breath I didn't notice I was holding. 

I get off the bed and "gear up," putting on all my jewelry and diabetes gadgets, like a cross between a police woman and Indiana Jones.  All I needed was a dark brown hat, I was already wearing a leather jacket.  Aaaaaanyway, I pay my copay and the receptionist told me they would forward the results to my doctor next week. 

Fast forward to this week, I get a call from the nurse at my PCP's office.  "Yeah, it looks like you do have some degenerative meniscus going on.  We'd like to schedule you to see an orthopedist.  Do you have one you'd like to see?"  "Ummm, no, I'm new to all of this."  She schedules me to go to an orthopedic center close to my house for next week.  After I get off the phone with her, I went to Google to figure out what exactly "degenerative meniscus" is.  From what I can decipher, the cartilage between my knee cap and my thigh bone is not as thick as it should be.  Thus, causing pressure and pain when I bend my knee.  My physics/engineer mind hypothesizes that the cartilage condenses in cold weather or when a low pressure system passes, because the pain hasn't been as bad this week with high pressure and temps in the upper 60s. 

So, that's it.  My pain has been justified by something, which gives me some relief that it's at least diagnosed.  But what frustrates me is that there appears to be no "fix" for this except to manage the pain until I have no cartilage left, which leads to knee surgery.  My mom tried to reassure me that they would probably give me some type of anti-inflammatory drug that I would have to take for the rest of my life.  Admittedly, I got a little upset and said, "I don't want to be dependent upon a drug for the rest of my life!  I'm already dependent on one to stay alive, I really don't want to add another.  I'm freakin' 26-years-old!"  I don't know why I got so upset, because it seems so silly over something like knee pain.  But I hate feeling like the only fix for this is another drug.  It's like my body hates me, it doesn't want to function properly if left by itself. 

I'm hoping the orthopedist will suggest some form of physical therapy first, to hopefully make my knee correct itself.  But between this knee pain and getting glasses, I'm feeling a little vulnerable.  If I start forgetting people's names or putting the milk in the dryer or something, I'm just gonna put my hair in a bun and call it a day. 

Oh My Knee

For the past 6 months or so, I have been battling some pain in my right knee.  It's like someone has stapled a brick to the top of my knee cap and it's pressing down.  I was a fast-pitch softball catcher for 10 years, so I figured the wear and tear on my knees was finally catching up to me.  The first appointment I had for it, the doctor had my knee X-rayed and found nothing.  Then I went several months without feeling anything again. 

But lately the pain has been constant.  I am taking my prescription Celebrex (don't worry, Constance-friendly) everyday like it's my vitamin, and it feels like it's barely putting a dent in the pain.  I am avoiding stairs as much as I can and crossing my legs when I'm sitting.  But the pain is still there. 

Last night, when I was working out on the Wii, I was trying to do some lunges.  And I could barely get my left knee down because the pain in my right knee was so bad.  And when I'm sitting on the couch, I usually prop my legs up on the coffee table in front of me, and last night I had to physically lift my right leg up and down from the floor. 

My (current) GP said that if my pain doesn't get better or gets worse that the next step is an MRI to confirm if I have arthritis in my knee.  I have done some research about all the different kinds of arthritis (just like diabetes, I had no idea of the several types! #themoreyouknow) and found that rheumatoid arthritis is a form of an autoimmune disease.  I have read that autoimmune disease run in companies of 2s or 3s, so I thought this could be the beginnings of that.  But further research seems to point to me having regular ole osteoarthritis, which is not as bad but still painful. 

The main issue I have with making an appointment is that it seems there is no "fix" for me knee, if it is confirmed as osteoarthritis, other than taking daily pain meds and wearing a brace when I exercise.  It frustrates me because I am 26-years-old!  I shouldn't be making statements like, "Oh, I can tell the weather's changing, I can feel it in my knee."  I try to blame everything on D, but in this case I am.  There's no way I should be feeling "old people pain" this early in life. 

I really hope I don't have to sport a 4-stand cane with tennis balls.