When Gratitude Steps In

About two weeks ago I had my worst low ever. We were on the road driving. Luckily I wasn’t at the wheel but being somewhere between Jugiong and Gundagai (yes those are names of Aussie towns) it was still scary.

As it was happening I kept racking my brain trying to figure out the why. I hadn’t over injected for lunch or had I? Did I take an extra unit of basal insulin in the rush to leave that morning? I’d already had a near low the day before. Was I just that little bit more sensitive to Insulin from our sunset walk the evening before?

Whatever the reason, the one and a half tabs I popped weren’t working fast enough.

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I had to play the waiting game. We stopped at a fancy pub and I made an obligatory visit to the loo. Every time I go low I might as well have a tiger chasing me. The feeling is exactly the same. While in the lavatory I kept a close eye on my levels but sadly the numbers weren’t looking good. I couldn’t make my trusty mySugr app lie. The numbers surrounded in color-coded circles kept going lower. Orange had been replaced by red.

I popped another tab while my body began to shake. Everything looked blurry, I felt blurry and at the same time, my thoughts were like sharp bubbles that I could catch and get lost in. I made my way back to my husband who was waiting for me at a lone picnic table and told him I was still low. He held me and we waited. I kept testing and finally ten minutes later it came up a few points. We got back in the car. Disaster averted.

The rest of the day I felt fragile like I’d been poked with a stick. The days that followed were filled with unmanageable high readings. And I was scared to take insulin. I took it but I was still scared. I went to sleep at a higher level just to be on the safe side. And when I woke up higher I didn’t correct. Instead, I waited for it to gradually coast down by midday. Every time I tried to gather the courage to be a bit more accurate with my dosing I couldn’t do it.

And it dawned on me. This is what burnout looks and feels like.

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It’s taken me two weeks to find my confidence again. Gratitude has been the first step. In the depth of the low, I remember thinking quite clearly how grateful I was that I could still think clearly enough to test my blood sugar, that I had glucose tabs on hand, that my partner would come find me if I hadn’t come out. I felt grateful for my breath which I began to watch rising and falling in my chest. As the next two weeks unfolded, I was even more grateful for my daily yoga practice.

The ability to step on the mat and feel peace, calmness, stillness. The reminder that the experiencer, the seer, the one having the highs and lows is unaffected. As much as I want to believe I am my body, I cannot be my body. My body is something I have. As much as I think I am my thoughts about my disease. My thoughts are something I have. As much as I want to think that I am the disease, diabetes is something I have.

The depth of gratitude cannot be underestimated. I know it is a way of being that works in any situation, any crisis. I believe it is an essential yoga practice.

If you want to know more about gratitude and how it shapes my life with diabetes I recently sat down with my good friend Lauren Tober the creator of A Daily Dose of Bliss and A Grateful Life Podcast to share about Yoga, Diabetes and why I practice in my P.J’s.  Listen to the podcast and if you’d like to join us on a Daily Dose of Bliss registrations are open now.

Podcast on Gratitude with Rachel Zinman

with great respect…

rachel

 

Diabetes: A total head spin!

I love certainty. Knowing exactly what to expect in a situation keeps me calm. When I don’t know I try to guess… But living with diabetes is different. I can’t really make a guestimate when my life is at stake.

After my first rapid-acting insulin injection a few weeks ago, I had a total meltdown, my blood sugar skyrocketed and I had to make several trips to the loo. It reminded me of one of those dares your friend gives you when you’re a kid like; I dare you to take off all your clothes and run around in the snow or, I dare you to tongue kiss Danny Marsden. You want to do it, but you’re also terrified. What if you freeze your butt off or end up swallowing his tongue!

There were definitely things to be paranoid about. Not getting the dose right, reacting to the insulin, the insulin not working, injecting into a muscle and crashing my blood sugars. Not to mention that the sheer mechanics of getting the shot ready were a nightmare.

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I had no idea you had to prime a syringe, that a ½ unit is a tiny tiny amount so tiny you can hardly see the plunger moving when you push it in and that pulling insulin out of a pen without all the proper handling techniques can make your syringe fly across the room.

It became obvious quite quickly that listening to my CDE tell me what to do and doing it were two different things. In the beginning, there was a lot of insulin wastage. Something I don’t like doing as I am very aware of the cost of this life-saving medication. As those of us living with diabetes know, insulin does not grow on trees!

After two days of trial and error and wondering if it was ever going to work, it did. My postprandial blood sugar coasted up a mere 10 mg/dl and then 2 hours later coasted right back down.  I couldn’t believe it. Working with long-acting insulin to cover meals meant I always went up between 40 to 50 mg/dl after every meal… I’d gotten so used to the spike I didn’t see it as an issue. Even though logically I know it’s those spikes that give me a higher A1c.

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Success didn’t last long, just because it worked perfectly once didn’t mean it worked like that again. The day after my very successful bolus I wrestled with lows. urgh.. the frustration… now I had to wait for my blood sugar to come up again to try bolusing with a meal. I even lowered my long acting to see if that was the issue and then WHAM…the next day blood sugars were too high.

Count carbs, prime needle, take the shot, monitor blood sugar, treat a low, check blood sugar, take a correction OMG! It’s a total head spin.

I am in awe of every single person living with diabetes. I am stunned by how inaccurate the treatment methodology is. No wonder we need diabetes coaches, peer support, better and better technology’s and smarter insulin and did I mention YOGA!

with great respect from the trenches…

rachel

 

 

What brings me to my knees

When I was pregnant and about 6 years into my yoga practice I was asked to start a prenatal yoga class in my local town.  Looking back, I am amazed that everyone survived. I was inexperienced, teaching from a book and making grand claims about how the pain we were experiencing while stretching our legs was exactly like childbirth.

Then I gave birth. The pain was unimaginable and nothing like a hamstring stretch. How could I have been so blind!

Today after my second low blood sugar in two weeks, I feel like that.

Up until three weeks ago, I was a novice. Sure I’d had a few numbers teetering on the edge, but like a graceful dancer about to fall in her first performance, I’d somehow catch myself just in time and leap away with the perfect smile.

But yesterday brought me to my knees.

I’d woken up at 3.30 am with a perfect 5.5 mmol (in diabetes land we call that a Unicorn). I knew it would be better to get up, make myself a snack and get into the day than toss and turn and worry about a low.

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After completing a few administrative tasks and enjoying the efficacy of working before dawn, I took my morning basal dose (long-acting insulin). I’d been working the different spots on my tummy to avoid potential pitfalls. I.e. popping a blood vessel and injecting straight into a vein, and was trying a new technique to spread the skin rather than pinch so the needle didn’t go in too deep.

The needle went in without a hitch, I depressed the plunger and then waited for a count of 10. When I pulled the needle out there was a huge drop of blood and I could see a hard bubble forming under the skin.

Instead of panicking I decided that eating consistently all day would help to keep my levels on track. I enjoyed having a bigger lunch and a few extra snacks. Things were looking good. I’d stayed balanced for most of the day.

Then I took my 2nd Basal shot

I prodded my belly again for the perfect spot. Primed the needle, sunk it in and then… oh… no… ANOTHER BLEEDER! I stayed calm. This time there was no bubble and no mark. It was going to be fine

I happily made my dinner, ate my desert and headed to the computer to do a few tasks before a scheduled online evening meeting with one of my yoga students. I felt a strange itchy sensation on the right hip and just to make sure I wasn’t going low, checked my level.

2.6!!!!!!

Two friggin . 6

The shock of it was worse than the feeling. In fact, I felt absolutely ZERO, nada, nothing! I felt totally normal…I screamed, and my husband came running. We were on repeat (see my last blog). He’s telling me to breathe, stay calm and I’m chugging juice. He reminds me (like he did the last time) I really don’t need to drink the whole 250 ml.

2.6? I’m drinking it!

Then I sit on the couch and wait. My heart has stopped pounding and everything feels surreal.

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I feel sad. I’m sad for babies diagnosed at birth, for the mothers and fathers who get up all through the night to make sure they stay alive. For all the people in the world without insulin. For the adults like me who are diagnosed after a full life who now have to grapple with their new circumstances. For the lack of awareness and understanding that accompanies this disease. For the injustice from pharmaceutical companies who use diabetes for profit. I want to strangle someone, scream and pound the wall. But I’m actually too spaced out. I check my blood sugar every 5 minutes and gratefully watch the numbers on my meter rise in slow steady increments. When I hit 5.5 I relax.

I had no idea, I don’t know what I was thinking…. but I had no idea

Slow steady breaths definitely helped. Stretching out on my mat the next day also helped. Putting my hands together at my heart at the end of my practice just that little bit longer to acknowledge the absolute precious gift of life… that’s helped as well.

But really I don’t know how we can ever recover from the circumstances we find ourselves in until there is a cure. As someone said recently ” Insulin does not solve the problem”

So what does?

Knowing I am not in this alone and that there are millions just like me, doing their best to meet the challenges every day with courage, strength, and grace!

If you’d like to make a difference in the life of someone living with diabetes please consider donating to any one of these amazing charities.

Beyondtype1,  We are Diabetes,  The Betes,  T1international,  Diabetes Sisters