Cut to Monday morning (which was my scheduled site change day,) when I woke up at 5:17 AM, with a fuzzy mouth and blood sugar of 336. I believe the words “FUCK ME,” were uttered multiple times.
I’d had 24 units left in my pod before I went to bed on Sunday night, with15 hours left before it was empty. Shit happens and I know that. Yet I’m mad at myself for the site crapping out and not changing it out the night before. But all signs pointed to me not having to. Shit happens. Accept and move on.
Speaking of.. I felt like shit. Downed a huge glass of water, calculated and administered a correction injection, and changed out my site.
5:20 AM
New pod’s occlusion alarm goes off and I have to change it out.
Once again I utter “FUCK ME,” followed by “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”
Now I’m BOTH pissed and annoyed.
5:26 AM
Second new pod site of the day goes in. I set my alarm an go back to sleep
7:30 AM
I wake up and my bg is 289. I think to myself that it should be lower, give myself a correction bolus and sent a 3 hour increased temp basal rate of 45%.
9:20 AM
Bg is 240. I AM NOT AMUSED. A correction bolus of 1.05 units is given.
10:45 AM
Bg is 266 and going in the wrong direction. I make the decision to deactivate the pod.
3rd new pod put in.
Temp basal rate of 60% for 3 hours set. Bg slowly starts going down.
Small ketones, massive amounts of water consumed.
I’d scheduled take Monday afternoon off last week, so I answered emails plowed through, and hoped things would kilter out by 1:30 pm.
1:30 PM
Meet a friend for lunch. Bg is 210 and I’m like: Hey OK, things are getting back to normal. Except they weren’t.
I have mahi-mahi fish tacos or lunch. They are delicious and I bolus generously.
3:13 PM
Blood sugar is 260 and my head hurts. Correction bolus 0.80 given.
Temp Basal increased by 45% and for three hours, and I down more water.
My friend asks if I want to get a pedicure. I do, I really do.
But I decline. I don’t feel good.
5:09 PM
Bg is 323. Temp basal rate is increased and set to 60%.
Correction bolus of 2.25 given.
I drink 20 ounces of water, set the alarm on my phone and take a nap because I am exhausted
6:51 PM
Bg is 281, with a correction bolus of 0.45 units. No way I’m eating dinner.
Trace amount of ketones detected, more water consumed.
8:22 PM
9:13 PM
Bg 198, 0.85 correction unit given. Drink club soda with a splash of juice and a few crackers because I have 3.3 units of insulin on board and the arrow on my Dex is pointing in a south east direction.
Speaking of arrows, my graph looks like… well I don’t know what the hell it looks like, but doesn’t look good.
12 AM Tuesday morning: Blood sugars have evened out and now in the 120s.
The insulin tally for Tuesday – 71 units of insulin. I normally average somewhere between 39 and 47 units per 24 hour period.
I turn off the temp basal rate, eat a few more crackers and officially have zero fucks left to give, and head to bed.
7 AM Tuesday morning: Wake up with a glucose of 240.
Whatever the hell is going on with my body – be it hormones, fighting off a cold or allergies, or just because it’s freaking Tuesday – my body requires a higher temp basal rate and more insulin.
Numbers hover between 180 and 215 all day and my 24-hour old site (my leg,) starts to hurt after dinner.
10:42 PM Tuesday Night: Change out site and numbers immediately start to depart zombie land. I stay up late to make sure every thing is stable re: my numbers and watch the final episode of Brokenwood, season 5. Bummed it was the final episode and looking forward to season six.
As of today (Thursday,) I’m still running a temp basal rate that’s increased by 15%.
Not sweating it, though. My numbers are on the decent side of normal and I know for whatever reasons, my body needs the increased basal rates right now.
I know this to shall pass and I have too much adulting to do to pinpoint the why(s).
