Being Type One

Being a Type One Diabetic is truly a nuisance. I don’t speak about much because it just is what it is, and I don’t like complaining. I understand that for some complaining relieves the stress, but I just don’t like dumping stuff on other people and I end up feeling like a sob story at times.

I do not have the freedom of simply moving my body for exercise anytime I want, or even going on a walk with the dog without checking my numbers (my sugar levels), thinking about when I last ate and what I ate exactly, making sure I have some kind of candy or sweet on me to treat a low sugar drop if it happens. It actually really pisses me off how I can’t just go on a hike, bike ride, or long walk without preparing hours in advance.

No, I am not kidding.

I saw a video once by a T1D support social media account, It showed video clips of a variety of people doing their jobs while also keeping a balloon bouncing in the air with one hand. It is a truly perfect analogy of what it’s like to be Type 1. It is a condition that requires constant babysitting, and if I stop babysitting I’m invariably sorry.

Technology has made it easier, yes, and for that I am so grateful, but it’s not perfect, and it’s especially challenging with a physically inconsistent job like mine.

I woke up this morning thinking about the day’s schedule. I had a photo shoot on campus of a professor in his class in the morning. Easy enough, but parking on campus is minimal thanks to an abundance of construction, so I thought about how the class is at one end of Bay State Rd, and the area where I am likely to find parking is four or five blocks away.

At 8am – two hours before I was to even be shooting – I starting prepping my usual breakfast of half muffin, one egg, and coffee with protein powder. Unlike other mornings which may start slow with emailing and assignment editing at my home computer, this morning might involve some walking which will burn off sugar in my bloodstream. I took less insulin with breakfast for this reason, and set my pump to “activity mode”. Activity mode tells my pump that I’m going to be exercising and as a result, the pump should automatically administer less insulin for the next few hours. Otherwise, it would give me insulin to keep my sugar level at 110 not knowing that I’m physically moving as well, which will cause my sugars to drop. Insulin burning sugar + burning sugar from walking = a sugar drop.

I had to think of this and make these changes hours before I got in my car to head into work.

At 10am on a slower day, my sugars can be as high as 200 (“ideal” range is 100-120), and they come down by lunchtime on their own.

When I found parking in an alley a few blocks from the class on campus, I went to my trunk and worked out what gear to bring. I’ve been having a lot of lower back pain, so I’m trying hard to be conscious of what gear I really need rather than packing all the stuff I like to have.

I arrive at the class ten minutes early and find the classroom to be much smaller than I expected. I will have to go back to my car and switch up my lenses (thus the reason why I brought everything along for the last 25 years!). I chat with the students in class and let them know I’ll be back.

I check my pump and see my sugars are at 125. Typically, this would be a dream, but I know better. Walking the two blocks from the class back to the car could disrupt that perfect number and cause my sugars to drop. I walk calmly back to the car, no rush, no stressing (stress can cause lows too). I arrive at my car and my pump indicates I am now I’m an 110.

I switch out to the more appropriate lenses, I am now 90 with an arrow going down, indicating I am actively dropping. As I stroll back to the class, I eat some Swedish Fish to bring my numbers up and slow the drop, and shut the administering of insulin off completely on my pump, setting it to do so for 15 minutes. I eat a total of five small swedish fish, climb the flight of stairs (more exertion I’d love to not have to think twice about), my pump beeps to let me know that I am now dropped to 77. I shut off that alarm and trust that the gummy fish will kick in and correct the “low”.

Despite feeling like garbage, I am now mind over mattering and chatting with the class and the professor, “Would you mind if I use my flash?” and so on. He goes on teaching and I do my best to shoot well while feeling like trash and also needing to babysit my pump which keeps vibrating and beeping alarms at my hip.

Ten minutes later I am seated in a classroom chair for the best angle and my pump beeps again. Still 78. I turn off the alarm again and continue working.

It can take up to a half hour to feel better after a sugar low. Some times are faster than others. I have learned to not panic. I have learned to assess all the things that led to this and what I’ve done to correct it. The walking I stopped doing fifteen minutes ago will continue to burn sugar for a little bit, but I took enough sugar in with the swedish fish that it shouldn’t drop more if I’m still for the time being.

I focus on continuing to do the job because now is when the class is happening and now is when I have to do the job, foggy or not.

I take on the challenging lighting situation and fix this and that to make it all look right.

Check pump – 82.

Fifteen minutes later I have what I need from the class, so I contradulate the professor on his retirement, which is why he’s being photographed, and head out.

A solid thirty minutes after my low and sugar intake, I am still around 90. Technically this is a wonderful number, but it’s really not when you’re carrying gear and have a few blocks to walk back to your car.

This is not a sympathy post. This is a not attention seeking. I just felt like making space for this thing that I have to deal with all day, everyday. Like mentioning it “out loud” might make it suck less.

I can say that hours later my sugars are in a better range, but I am now tired and just want to go home. Alas, much of a work day remains.