Monday, October 29th

...Once a week posting is better than nothing, I suppose... more frequent than my running, these days. Is November a weird time to set resolutions? The start of a new month, the start of new routines? It is the start of DST, after all. A little lighter in the mornings, darker leaving work in the afternoons. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

I am a little uneasy about my fairly rapid use of my vacation hours at work. An hour here, two hours there. Most of them have been for medical appointments.  Now that I am doing all of my diabetes-related care in Dubuque, the work day time suck is even greater. Que sera, sera, I guess. Though this Friday I am using a personal choice day to travel to Ely, Minnesota to the International Wolf Center to meet the wolves, do work projects and generally geek out with wolf-related awesomeness. :) The drive will most likely suck, but I hear the area is gorgeous and the weekend should be memorable. Another solo adventure for this gal. I return late Sunday night, only to turn around first thing Monday to come to work early so I can get in as much work time as possible before once again journeying to Dubuque to see the diabetes educator and dietitian there. At least this trip should involve some discussion/comparison/demonstration of an insulin pump, which will give me more flexibility.

However, even though I do like Dr. Iverson, my new endocrinologist, nor does it hurt that he's a good-looking guy, he did not think antibodies testing to verify my type of diabetes was particularly helpful or necessary. Which rather took me aback, for I thought that was precisely the reason for which I was seeing him.  Apparently, it would not affect the current treatment.  More troubling than that is he effectively said though the diagnosis leans towards Type 1, I still could very well be Type 2. If I do everything correctly and all of a sudden I need very little insulin, we might do the testing to verify Type 2. Or if I really want to know.  In the moment, I took his word and didn't press the issue. But even driving away, I decided I want to know. I really want to know. And the more I think about it, the more frustrated I am that he took what seems such an important distinction so lightly.  Everywhere I turn, from seeking advice on how to cope, to discounts on my testing strips, there is a question about which type.  I don't know. I have no idea. And he muddied the water more than it was. Frankly, Type 2 is still more of an emotional hurdle than Type 1.  I verified with my insurance that they would cover the test 100% if it is in network. I have refrained from calling and telling him, waiting to ask about it at my appointment next Monday.  But it essentially it means another six weeks of wondering.


I am, however, getting better at this lowered blood glucose thing. Still far from perfect, but I can even get into double digits now. The good news from Dr. Iverson is that he felt my numbers, however imperfect, were right on target for where they should be, considering I'd only been using two types of insulin for 3 weeks. I had to stop and think about that. Only 3 weeks? Really? Feels like an eternity already. He upped my Levemir dose just slightly, which seems to help, but I do wonder if that's less about the increased Levemir or generally just improving my overal blood glucose numbers. In the seven days since I've seen him (week four of using both insulins), I've tested by blood glucose 30 times, and have only been over 200 4 times. For comparison, in the week prior I tested 34 times, with 12 instances above 200. That's 13% versus 35%.  Granted, that includes my weekend out tailgating and eating out, but improvement is improvement!

Though I need to find a way to stop emotionally beating myself up when my numbers are not what I want. The target is 150 or lower, per Dr. Iverson and Liz Hinckley, my nurse practitioner in Lancaster. By the same data used above (30 tests/current week, 34 tests previous week), I had 14 tests at 151 or lower (3 more not included at 153, 154, and 156) this week, and only 7 the previous week. That's 47% versus 21%. I know this seems excessively nit-picky of me, but actually it's rather helpful to see the mathematical comparisons this way. I really am getting better at it, not just feeling like it.

To quote a Calvin and Hobbes strip, "Promotions for everyone!"

Monday, October 22nd

Today I sit sipping my Highlander Grogg coffee with white chocolate caramel latte creamer - which is, btw, deliciously amazing - and feeling the aftershocks of a long, entertaining, and scattered weekend. I spent Friday night and most of Saturday in Iowa City, visiting a friend and just enjoying the time away.  I got a much overdue hair cut, whose favoribility I am still assessing, and spent a mildly productive time perusing the Goodwill.

Saturday night, I traveled east to Clinton, Iowa for an Hawkeyes game tailgate gathering.  The event illuminated a few things, including the recurring lowered-inhibition emotionally insecure funk I can get into when drinking too much and the distinct reawakening of my cravings to end being single, in some form or fashion.  There is more depth to these ponderings than time, space, and discretion allow for here.

Saturday night's activities, coupled with not enough sleep and over-indulgence of food and beverages sky-rocketed my blood sugar. I am still frustratingly trying to bring it back under control.  I wonder if a hormonal aspect - read: PMS - is involved as well, but it seems a bit early for that.  In any case, the stress of finding out what I can and cannot do, the trial and error of insulin coverage and correction continues. Today I travel back to Dubuque to meet with an endocrinologist for the first time. I am one part hopeful for new answers, reassurance, and an overall better handle on what is happening.  I am one part apprehensive of the unknown and a total lack of knowing what to anticipate.  I don't even have a clue how long the appointment could or should last. The closer to the time of the appointment, the more anxious I seem to be. My blood pressure will surely reflect white-coat syndrome this afternoon! The fact that my blood glucose hasn't budged from the 200 mark or higher since 3:30pm on Saturday isn't helping.  Right now I am waiting for two hours since my last dose of fast-acting insulin to pass before eating lunch.  I am hungry, but anxious about eating anything, since the dosages don't seem to be corresponding like they should. 

Friday, October 19

Dairy farming; every day is a new adventure. Though sometimes a tragic one.  One old cow was due to have a calf on October 25th.  I commented on Wednesday night that I didn't think she'd make it 'til then.  But neither of us could have possibly guessed that she'd give birth the very next day.  Yesterday I had to go out in the evening, on the coldest day of the week, in the drizzling October rain to fetch her out of the bottom pasture.  It was not one calf, but twins, the heifer tiny and the bull bigger but not by much. Sadly, they were both stillborn, one down in the pasture grass and the other in the barn later that night.  Such situations cannot be predicted or prevented, and life trudges on. 

In the same vein of inexplicable frustrations, this new life of medications and medical supplies and insurance can be a royal pain.  Yesterday I re-ordered two prescriptions and a 100 count box of testing strips. Apparently, I cannot reorder strips until October 25th.  Even if I test the most sparingly, I won't have enough until then. Which means I need to shell out the cash for a 50 count box. And they are not cheap. Apparently, an inquiry to my insurance company is in order. /sigh/ 

Update: Apparently I just need a new prescription from my NP to indicate I test more often, which would allow me to get 150 per refill rather than 100. An inconvenience to make the several phone calls, but by early next week, all should be fixed. I still might buy the extra 50 today, just to make sure I have enough for the weekend. I don't want to spend the weekend eating out and guesstimating insulin dosages and then not test my BG as often as I'd like because I'm low on test strips. This is one instance where frugality is not the most important consideration.

Also, finding the correct fast-acting insulin dose is still not an exact science.  In the past few days it seems that if I calculate what I think I need, I should then add one more unit and that gets me where I need to be. At least yesterday when I got down around 100, I didn't get the weird shaky and weak feeling. So "normal" is starting to feel normal, finally.  I just hope that my too low jittery feeling is still effective for when I actually am.
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In more random news, I began watching episodes of the new TMNT from Nickelodeon. Having seen updates and reviews via facebook, I was not excited about the changes, to the point where I did not even want to see it. But... curiosity got the best of me when I found the first couple episodes for free online. The animation, though not a great style, grows on you.  The turtles do look a bit more "realistic," in some sense, than the 2003 series, which is still my favorite incarnation of the fab four.  The anime expressions and added symbols they use from time to time are annoying, distracting, and break the vibe of the show. Visually, this might be the best Splinter to date.  What I cannot get used to, or like, is that they made Donny taller and lankier than his brothers, plus gave him a strange gap-tooth. Come again? Coupled with the voice (see next paragraph), take Donny from my second-favorite turtle to my least favorite. And that's saying something, because Mikey always annoyed me somehow.


The voice acting selections feel wrong.  Leo sounds more like Donny. Donny is voiced by the same actor who did Raphael in the 80s series, which is just weird. And correspondingly, they seem to have ramped up his goofy sarcasm a bit, like the 80s Raph. He's got less of that "Aww shucks" dorkiness going on. I guess they made up for it by making him visually awkward?  Mikey is a bit too much of a parody of himself; a little too stupid and a little too high-pitched.  Sean Astin is the voice of Raphael (I know, right?). But surprisingly enough, he does an adequate job, particularly in the sense that you forget it's Sean Astin. It doesn't sound like the expected Sean Astin voice except every now and again at the end of a phrase. This is incredibly important, because Raphael is far and away my favorite character and if they ruin him for me, the series is anathema. :-P  

The writing is a bit predictable (well, duh). But the show is witty, and I found myself unexpectedly grinning and laughing several times.  And some reviewers are right; they did make the turtles seem more like actual teenagers. Though, I think I prefer them seeming more "adult" than teen. I know, I know, throws off the acronym and the storyline. Details. :-P But they change the storyline themselves! The melding of the Utrom/Krang/Foot soldier memes is also awkward. The Krang-speak is amusing/interesting... the first couple of times. Then the strange syntax is just boring, and makes you wonder why an advanced alien race cannot pick up basic grammar.  Splinter was once human, which is "huh?" but I suppose makes his mastery of ninjitsu more plausible. But hey, we're talking about mutated turtles and alien robots. A rat learning ninjitsu skills isn't exactly a stretch.  They also give Donny a hardcore, instantaneous crush on April, again deteriorating his character for me.

Long story even longer, the experience got me jonesing for more turtles. So I busted out the 2003 series. Yes, I own it. Shut up! And each episode makes me remember why I loved it so much in the first place. Apparently, however, from when I started watching the series in 2008 until now, I missed the brief window of opportunity to purchase the lost Season 5 Ninja Tribunal on DVD. I might still have the bit torrent episodes saved on my mom's old computer from after my motherboard crapped out on my prior laptop. ...hmmm...

Monday, October 15

Random Threads of Thought
re: use of this blog

Thread #1: An idea I hit upon long ago as a purpose for this blog - using some posts as a dialogue with a book I am reading, most likely chapter by chapter, but variable based on the length of the post or disparateness of the ideas discussed. I like this idea. A lot. I certainly have far too many books languishing on the shelves which need a read or re-read. Now, to choose one...

Thread #2. My first year with diabetes. I keep toying with this one, vascillating between it being a great idea and a stupid one. First, why would anyone but me care how I am managing my diabetes? Probably scant few. It's not exactly titillating conversation. But it would, perhaps, be a way to vent and process what too often seems a lonely undertaking. The other clincher is the diagnosis. I am suspicious that it is Type 1.5, or Latent Autoimmune Diabetes in Adults. It is managed exactly like Type 1 diabetes, but develops more slowly, like Type 2. Next Monday, October 22nd, I go to the endocrinologist so he can test for type. My fear is that I am truly Type 2 but insulin controlled. This would suck in the worst way. However, the fact that the insulin is working within the standard parameters, showing little to no insulin resistance, makes me very hopeful it's Type 1 or LADA. Thus, I wait to develop a lengthier blogging effort until a diagnosis is more concrete.

Thread #3. As always, my processing through vocation and life goals. School, thesis, career, theological musings and such. I always leave such things open to whatever random curiosities and musings may come to light. I really want to be more proactive about this blog. I've been feeling strongly contemplative, with a wish to revisit my writing practices and also stretch/exercise my mental acumen. This stems mostly from a re-acquaintence with thoughtful, articulately written blogs by others.

Step 1: Set a goal.
Step 2: Develop a habit. (Three weeks to start a habit, three days to break one, as the adage goes.)

Ya'll know how much I inevitably fail at sustained discipline. Maybe another short burst is all I can muster.

And then there's that, you know, thesis I need to write. /sigh/

One step at a time! :-)

Another year, another blogging attempt.

Hello, again, blog world.

My return to you as an outlet is directly proportional to the amount of free time and the amount of boredom accumulating in my life. It's been an entire year (or close enough) since my last entries. /Sigh/ All the missed opportunities.

For blogging, I mean. But in "real life," too, I suppose.

There are so many things to discuss from the final year. Graduate school classes ending, thesis still pending (grrr), moving back in with the parents, and worst/most of all, dealing with the chronic disease of diabetes, most likely Type 1.

I almost feel like I need several blog threads to keep all my thoughts in order. Religion and Theology musings, Dealing with my first year of diabetes, and other random chaos. But they are my threads, all my life, so perhaps the meanderings of one blog encompassing all those things isn't so disjointed.

Oh, the things I ponder.

So, blog world, let's try this again.

I hate boundaries.

I understand the concept of boundaries and I even recognize their utility. But the word, in its association with ministry and relationships, etc just drives me mad. I hate the word boundaries. Yes, it has everything to do with my experience at LSTC and thus is a dark and pejorative word in my vocabulary.

Last week's gospel message was to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and mind and to love your neighbor as yourself. I had a discussion with a friend around this, regarding whether this means God calls us to a simple, deeper morality or into some completely different reality. I posited that it wasn't either/or but both, and that it is a deep morality, completely different from what we typically experience which at its heart is as simple as what the passage commands. Often it is difficult to do because we complicate it through our own humanity; we think too hard, we rationalize, we obfuscate, we deflect; to avoid the intensity and uncomfortable choices, we make things shallow.

And though there are times when designating specific boundaries and parameters is necessary, often they obfuscate what should be much more simple. I ran into the blurring and defining of boundaries this morning once again. Several hours later, I'm still agitated about the encounter. Agitated with myself, agitated with my friend, agitated with the whole damn mess. I wouldn't even be sitting here in class if we didn't have a midterm on Thursday. Life is too layered with shades of gray sometimes for the clear and distinct boundaries we try to wrap everything in. These wee little boxes into which we try to shove everybody, the assumptions about context and needs and wants we project onto others.

Gnarr! That's what I say, gnarr!

restless nights and recuperative days

I need to stay out of my head sometimes. My bad habit, when my brain won't shut down, is to numb it with exhaustion through sleep deprivation. I stay awake all night (or try), surviving on a mere handful hours of sleep, which leaves me to wake with the queasy, groggy feelings strangely reminiscent of an overly alcoholic night before.

Luckily it appears I've gotten much better about talking myself out of emotional funks. Caffeine, sunshine, food, and Enter the Haggis on iTunes helps, too. Though I am still in the weird head- and heart- space of untangling emotions and faith, loneliness from yearning spirit, and grief from gift. My always-processing brain made a few realizations last night and this morning, interspersed throughout the nagging doubts and personal insecurities lurking underneath the skin - though blessedly deeper and deeper as time goes on.

1) I need to drink less caffeine and sugar and get more exercise. Though last night's emotional wrestling match could not have been caffeine driven, falling into an exhausted stupor at 3am or later and waking around 7am to finish homework does not a productive running schedule make. I should take a page from Mr. Stebbins and put all these things behind me on the road. The feet could certainly use the effort and the mind the solace.

2) Though I am pursuing what I wish, this semester is full of classes I am less than thrilled about. Very little of my time is spent engaged in reading or research or writing which piques my interest and makes me squeak in delight from time to time. This could also be remedied by diving back into my thesis, but since that topic, too, is yet again in question... *sigh* That's not the whole of it, either. Half of my classes are solely with undergraduate students and my interaction with my graduate colleagues and buddies are too infrequent.

3) Which brings me to a good-naturedly fist shake at new Andy for asking me if I get lonely. At the time (good grief, was that only yesterday? Seems like ages ago.) I told him, not particularly. Because this experience is exponentially better than the last, the friends already made steady and sure, willing to drag me out of my comfort zone for nights of dancing out on the town in "good boob shirts" and the like. :) But I guess at the heart of things, I suppose that's always true. I will always take more time with people I enjoy. I am always disappointed at the departure, regardless of length of time spent. I am always lonely, but some of the dull, persistent aches of the soul are so familiar now that they are easily boxed away and ignored. Until I'm confronted with them all over again by the brain-worm that is a simple question like "Do you get lonely?"

Because damn, it felt an awful lot like loneliness that I struggled through again last night. It was all real emotion, reaction, but driving to school today I poked holes in my own false theories of "woe is me," emotions elicited by sneaky strawmen. Yeah, yeah. I get lonely. Almost everyone does. My cats are definitely part of the solution; I am grateful for them every day. (Finnegan is currently stretched out along the length of my leg, front paws curled over my knees, purring.) But it is not, I decided, an issue of mere loneliness, but something deeper. Not a sense of isolation or lack of social interaction, because for the most part I have those things, more so than I have in other phases of my life, but a yearning to be needed, a desire to be some sort of priority in others' lives like they are in mine.

It's perhaps a fine and delicate distinction at times, but for some reason it gave me clarity.

...diverging from that topic, I reread some of my older posts and was struck by the clarity and articulateness of my own thought processes regarding theology. I particularly like the post where my dialog with a book turned into a blog post. I'm considering maybe a chapter-a-day type posting process -- or maybe a chapter as I get it read thrown into the mix.

Oh, and the last realization I made, before I go for some much-needed rest: I am looking forward to attending church this week, to the tune of an expectant "Is it Sunday yet?" feeling. Interesting.

Cheers.