1,300 (Or How Not to Listen to Depressing Country Music)

Today, I'd like to tell you a little bit about Children's Congress.

Every other year, JDRF does thing where they get a bunch of kids from all 50 states (and the District of Columbia - yay for remembering the District of Columbia!), and take them to Washington D.C.  From there, these kids get to meet face-to-face with members of Congress, and show them why finding a cure for T1D is so important.  It was sort of an underground thing until 2009, when every tween's favorite diabetic (aka Nick Jonas) went to the event.  Then, boom!  Everybody wanted to be involved.  Because...hey, who doesn't want to bond with a hot singer over blood sugar problems?  I do!

Anyway, back to the topic at hand.  This year, I decided I'd try my hand at applying for Children's Congress.  I mean, I work hard in JDRF, I'm advocating in the community, not to mention sharing my story with my own personal blog (wink, wink).  I can do this!

So anyway, applications were due around November, and earlier today, I today I got my response letter in the mail.  And as you can see, I'm hanging it proudly on my bedroom wall!  Why?  Well, because it had some pretty awesome-sauce news on it!  Yeah, that's right!  This letter is an awesome reminder that I applied for Children's Congress 2013 and I didn't get in!

...Wait, what?

Yes, you read that right!  I will not be attending Children's Congress this year.  Or, well, ever.  See, to qualify for the program, you have to be between 4 and 17.  Since it's held every other year, this 2013 meeting was my last chance to be in it.  And, well, that's not going to be happening.

Alright, sarcasm aside.  Am I upset?  Yes, I am.  I spent a lot of time on my application, working hard to make sure it was perfect, and spending months worrying about whether or not my hard work paid off.  And I got the answer to that question today, and there's no beating around the bush; it didn't.  And that sucks (It probably didn't help that my blood sugar was low when I got the letter.  Low BG's = sensitive emotions = sob fest).

But you know what?  It's ok.

See, according to this letter I received, over 1,500 kids from all over the country applied to Children's Congress this year.  That means that in this country, there are 1,500 people who understand how sucky low blood sugars in the middle of the night are, how annoying it is to hear how your friend's grandpa's cat has diabetes, and understand the alternate definition for the word SWAG (hint: it's Scientific Wild-Ass Guess, which is creating a random bolus/injection amount for a certain food or drink when you don't know how many carbs are actually in it).  Also, I seriously doubt this program will accept more than 150 kids into it, which means over the next few weeks, there are going to be 1,300 kids who understand how much it sucks not to be accepted to Children's Congress.  Even suckier, this may not be their only rejection letter, and I can't imagine that.

So, there are now 1,300 of us in this little club.  What do we do, guys?

We be happy.

I know, I'm not making much sense right now.  Hear me out.  Yes, we're not going to Children's Congress.  But that doesn't mean nobody's going to Children's Congress.  Roughly 150 (estimated by my math skills, which admittedly aren't very good but that's ok for this example) kids are going to be there, and they're going to advocate like freaking crazy!  These guys are not going to leave until every person in Congress can accurately define 'rage bolus' (another hint: it's a large bolus/series of mild bolus's administered to correct high blood sugar, which can sometimes lead to low blood sugar.  I think we need a diabetic slang dictionary).  Diabetes is going to be in excellent hands with these guys.  I know it and you know it.

Yes, we are allowed to be sad.  We are allowed to be angry, and we are allowed to mope around and listen to depressing country music for a few days (Blog title tie-in...here!).  But what we are not allowed to do, let this decision bother us.  Because it doesn't matter if we're going or not.  What matters is that, overall, 150 kids are going.  And they are going to bring us one step closer to a cure.  In fact, just writing in to these guys has brought us closer.  Wanting to be a part of Children's Congress has shown how important this is, and has made other people take it seriously.  Whether we know it or not, all 1,500 of us, together, took a big step in getting closer to the cure.

And that's all we can ask for.

The Flight-Jumper Effect (Or History's Shortest Camp)

I think that once you've had diabetes for a certain amount of time, you tend to become a bit lazy about it.  'Oh yeah, my blood sugar's a little high - that happens after *insert activity/food here*.  It'll be fine.'  We like to think we're in control of it, that we are the all knowing monitor of diabetes.  Unfortunately, that isn't always the case.

Note: *Extremely long and slightly scary story to come, D-Mamas.  But hopefully for the best.*

Recently, I was in New York for a summer camp of sorts.  It was my first time there, and naturally I was excited and terrified for my life at the same time.  I kept getting those jittery legs - you know, the ones that you get when your blood sugar's high but also when you're really stressed?  I kept checking my blood sugar - nothing out of the ordinary.

Jump to two days into the program.  I unluckily enough have food allergies on top of my diabetes (hooray for a suckish immune system), so the cafeteria food was not doing me much good.  I cut back on my eating a lot in a short amount of time, relying on the small grocery store a few blocks from the dorm I was in.  There wasn't much, but it was the only one I could reach in the boundaries the camp had set up for us.  Also being a first-time camper, I was suffering from that wonderful feeling known as 'homesickness'.  Stuff was going on in my family, and I was upset I wasn't there for it.  So add that nervousness on.

Getting back to my room that night, I was not feeling up to par.  I figured the cafeteria had poisoned me again (Cross-contamination, I was starting to think, because they insisted it was gluten-free but I kept ending up sick), and went to check my blood sugar.  134, I clearly remember.

Now, I've learned to rely on my body a lot when it comes to my blood sugar - I can usually tell when my blood sugar's low, when it's high, and when I have ketones.  You can get them in the low 200s, I've unfortunately discovered.  So I didn't care if it was 134 - something was not right.

My parents had splurged on a ketone meter for me that I could take to New York - you know, one of those 'just in case' things.  I grabbed that, knowing that despite my picture-perfect numbers, something wasn't right.

My ketone level was 1.3  

For those of you who don't use it, a 1.3 on the ketone meter is pretty much off-the-scale on the strips.  It's larger than large, one of the deepest purple colors you can find.  The stress I was under, combined with a sudden lack of carbohydrates and protein, was sending me right into DKA with squeaky clean blood sugars to match.

Let me just say that seeing that number was one of the most terrifying experiences in my life.  I was on my own, no parents (already homesick), and had no clue what to do.  It was like being transported back to the hospital room when you first hear you need shots every day for the rest of your life.  And there's a sort of fight or flight response when it comes to numbers like that.  I chose the flight response - literally.  The next day I was on a plane home.

Now let my say it was not solely my diabetes that made me leave (I don't want you going to your parents using this as an excuse for why you shouldn't spend the weekend at Grandma's), but I'd be lying if I said it didn't play a role.  Now I can go into a million 'what if' scenarios on this, but that will get me nowhere.  So based on my personal experience, I'm going to share what helped me with this (besides airplanes), and what I feel could've been extremely beneficial in my situation.

*Get rid of stress*

This was not a step I followed very well.  Wanting to be home so badly for various reasons, I'd managed to convince myself that the only way to relieve stress was to go home.  That probably wasn't my best option, but it was late and I was tired and it seemed brilliant at the time.  Either way, the main point stays - calm down.  Do yoga, meditate, watch your favorite TV show; just try and find a way to take a load off for a little while.  Stress is like adrenaline for ketones - it just makes them keep going.  You calm down, and they loose energy.

*That water there?  Chug it*

I followed this step much better.  If your blood sugar's in the normal range, you can't exactly take insulin.  That leaves your other favorite alternative (the one my school nurses are always recommending); water.  I downed two bottles in a half hour.  Some websites recommend eating something and taking insulin to cover for it, that way it can also get to work on the ketones.  I have no idea if this method works, since I didn't try it.  What I can say, however, is that water will be your new best friend for a while.

*Call a professional*

Most camps are lucky enough to have an RN or some type of medical professional on staff for an emergency.  I, however, got an Asian guy who was not completely fluent in English, kept his office locked at night, and slept in an entirely different building then the one I - and his locked office - were in.  So obviously, I didn't have professional medical help.  In a situation like this you may feel like you can pull the 'I know my diabetes' card, but that's going to look pretty lame in comparison to a trip to the hospital.  Call your doctor.  No ifs, ands, or buts.  If you're like me, and it's the middle of the night (isn't it always when bad things happen?), you may quickly find out how Google can also become part of that buddy group with the water bottle.

*Do not expect a sudden miracle*

I later found out that from the time I started my camp to the day I left (three days), I'd lost 6 pounds.  My ketones had obviously going for a while, and they had no plans of stopping.  Five days of building them up in your system does not equal five hours to get rid of them.  It took me two days before I flushed them out.  It's going to take time.  You will still feel crappy, yes, and I'm sorry.  But it's going to be a little bit before they're gone.

The normal blood sugar/high ketone scenario is a scary one - I'm not going to lie (especially in an unfamiliar place in the middle of the night with Dr. Useless for company - but I digress).  I honestly don't know if I handled it well or not.  But what I have to remember is that what happened happened, I did not end up in the hospital, and I have a better understanding of how to prevent it.  Having diabetes for a certain number of years does not suddenly put you in the clear of the emergency room.  Keep that in mind.

On the other hand though, all those perfect blood sugar's caused my A1C to lower a full point.  Maybe New York has some positives after all.

Education on Diabetic Stereotypes

Just before I was sent to the hospital and diagnosed with diabetes, I - like any seven-year-old who needed to read books for school - was starting to read The Baby-Sitter's Club.

Oh yeah, you have no idea where I'm going with this, right?

I love the Baby-Sitters Club novels, I do.  They were really fun to read and they're fun to look back on and laugh at because of how unrealistic they are.  But it's not just the scenarios they were in that were unrealistic.  But rather...one particular character; you probably don't even know who I'm talking about.  She was pretty minor.  But she had this disease...really no big deal.

Ok, ok, time to be (a bit more) serious.  For those of you without 90's roots, the BSC novels had a main character named Stacey,  who was the 'city girl' of the gang.  But, as we all know, Stacey was diabetic.  And - OMG, that's like the worst thing ever to be diagnosed with!  No sugar, no good food, having to take shots all day and survive off of chicken and bread!  How did you live!

When some of my classmates found out I had diabetes, a few of them assumed I was just like Stacey from the Baby-Sitters Club (except...you know; younger and not from NY).  I know they were just trying to be friendly about it, and I suppose I appreciate it on that level.  But on the other hand...ugh.

Thankfully, my teacher that year had a son who was diabetic, so she was able to straighten everybody in the class out.  While I was glad my third-grade nightmare was over, she warned me this would happen again.  And boy, was she right.

Half the time, I don't think people mean to ask such stereotypical questions; they honestly have no knowledge of the disease, and the media does little to show the difference between Type 1 and 2 diabetes.  And usually you don't mind answering these questions, especially if it saves another diabetic the trouble of answering them.  But going on to my 9th year of the disease, I will admit I'm getting less and less...descriptive when answering.  In fact, in my P.E. class this year, I was reminded just how annoying those questions were, as my conversations with a particular girl usually went like this;

Girl: Oh hey, what is that?

Me: Just my meter.  I'm diabetic.

Girl: Ooooh.  So what are you doing with it?

Me: ...Testing my blood sugar.  I'm pretty sure I'm low.

Girl: Is that good or bad?

Me: ...Bad.

Girl: Oh.  *pause* Can I watch you take your blood pressure?

Me: Blood sugar.  And sure...I guess *pricks finger*

Girl: Ahhhh!  I didn't know you were going to bleed!  Doesn't that hurt?

...Yeah.  Don't pretend that's never happened; you know they've asked!  And you've gotten annoyed!  So that leaves the question; what are you to do?

Firstly, like I said earlier, most of these people are not trying to be annoying.  They're genuinely curious what that cell-phone looking thing is and why that pen just made you bleed...they don't mean harm.  Now I know that doesn't make it less annoying, but I always try to remember it when people are asking me questions.  Usually I can get through it.

Now, this leads to another question, often asked by my peers and the occasional teacher; what are bad diabetic questions - because I don't want to make you upset.  Well...I don't think there are bad questions.  But there are dumbs ones I get tired of hearing.  And instead of listing them all out, I've turned to a more...reliable source; YouTube!

Remember a few months ago, when those "Sh*t *insert broad stereotype here* Say" were so popular?  Well don't think we got left out!  The following video is done by another diabetic, and contains every question that has ever made me want to punch a perfectly nice person in the face.  Not because they aren't nice, but because asking three or four of these in under a minute is really annoying.  Along with the 'Sh*t People Say to Diabetics' video, there is also another one, 'Sh*t Diabetics Say'.  And I'd be lying if I said I haven't uttered some of those phrases before.

Sh*t People Say to Diabetics:

Sh*t Diabetics Say: (Warning* - the video below contains mild swearing...but it's oh-so true.)

That about does it.  If there are any other stereotypical questions that have been left out, please feel free to vent to your fellow diabetics below.  Have a good week, everyone!

That One Teacher (You Know Who I Mean)

My blood sugar has been hovering in the high 200s to low 300s range today, and nothing I do seems to be able to bring it down.  Add in my keytones and *boom!* I'm out of school for the day.  Now these things happen from time to time.  There are just those days when your blood sugar doesn't want to cooperate and you'd be better off at home rather than staring at the board all day, trying to pay attention but just letting your mind wonder.

Some of my teachers have yet to get this.

In elementary school, it's not as difficult.  But when you hit middle school, and every year after, you find them; it's inevitable.  Every year, there's that one teacher.  Maybe they start out nice, maybe they don't.  But one thing's for sure; when you start missing their class because you have problems with your blood sugar, you'd better believe there's some hell to pay.

I decide to write about this now as I'm currently dealing with this teacher.  He started out perfectly nice; pretty funny, laid back guy even.  And all was well until the beginning of the second semester, when my blood sugar started acting up on me.  And boy oh boy, did that attitude suddenly change.  The conversation I had went something like this;

Teacher: You missed my class twice last week, Reed.
Me: Yeah I know; I'm sorry.  I had some problems with my blood sugar, but it seems to be doing better now.
Teacher: Hmm...alright.  Well there's a test tomorrow, and I expect you take it.  Also, these homework assignments need to be made up by Friday or they're worth half credit.

...I'm sorry, what?

I find it extremely annoying when these teachers assume that when we're out of class for high blood sugar, we're just sitting in the nurses office lounging our day away.  I swear it seems like I have ADD when I'm high, because it's impossible to focus on one particular thing for an extended amount of time (Also I talk a lot).  We are not not having a fun time.  The way I describe a bad high blood sugar is that tingly feeling you get during a sugar rush.  The only difference is that it doesn't go away, and after a while that feeling starts getting really uncomfortable.

Another thing that I don't think he realizes is that when you're blood sugar finally levels out after being so high for so long, you are tired.  When the school sends you home, you aren't going to do homework.  You're going to take a nap and worry about it later, because it feels like you just ran a marathon.

I'm very thankful to be in a school with block classes, so that if something like this happens, I can always do my homework the next day.  Other kids aren't so lucky, and I've heard some interesting stories from some of my diabetic friends.  The important thing to remember is that if things aren't going well, you have a right to step back and take a breath.  Get a 504 plan to help you out if you're missing a lot of class (it's saved me on a few occasions).

I suppose my teacher and I are on better terms now, but he still doesn't like me missing lessons.  I heard from some friends he'll make jokes about me in class sometimes, saying that I need to lay off the sugar.  My response to that is this; here's a list of all the diabetic research organizations in the country.  Get out your phone, call them, and make a donation to help cure this.  Then I'll for sure stop missing your class, and every other teacher who's complaining about something they can't even begin to understand will lay off, too.

I'm still waiting for him to make that call, by the way.

Another thing these teachers don't seem to realize is that you need to watch those kinds of comments.  Because the only thing worse than getting a diabetic student mad at you, is getting a diabetic parent mad at you.  Take it from me; they will find you, they will not be happy, and you will regret any bad thought you ever had.  Am I right?

So to all those teachers who think their diabetic students are slackers, and that the parents need to tell them buck it up and just go to class...I would lock your windows from now on.  You know, just in case.

Why Chocolate Bunnies Will Rule The World

So me being Greek, our Easter is one week later than American Easter.  My grandmother came over today for an early celebration and, as per the secret code of the grandmothers (I'm fairly certain it exists), brought my brother and I each a chocolate bunny to munch on.  Which, as all diabetic children know from the countless warnings from doctors and parents and school nurses, is not a good thing to eat all at once.  But it's pretty darn tempting.

I mean...look at that thing.  Sitting there all innocently on my counter when it clearly isn't.  I swear it's sending subliminal messages to my head!  'Eat me...eat me Reed.  Just one bite; it won't hurt.'

Ok, I'll admit it.  If you ask any diabetic under the age of 12 (and quite a few over) what the worst holiday of the year is, chances are it's probably Halloween, as the candy and amount of time with your friends is more plentiful.  But Easter is probably the second or third, depending on how many sweets are available for Thanksgiving.  And why is that, you may ask?  I direct you back to the picture of the bunny...just sitting there...mocking me.....

I was seven when I was diagnosed with diabetes, and I remember the first Easter after it was (to put it bluntly) a bitch.  While my little brother and cousins ate chocolate bunnies and eggs galore, I was restricted to one small bunny and a few Tootsie Rolls since my parents were still fairly new to the diabetic game, and were convinced I would eat myself into another coma, only this one slightly more chocolate and marshmallow filled.  Even my twelve year old cousin, who was also diabetic and had been for two years then, seemed to be allowed more sweets than I was.

These kinds of holidays are bittersweet for us diabetics, both new and old alike.  As for the new ones, chances are what I described in the last paragraph sort of mirrors what your Easter was like.  Let me assure you it does get better as you learn to handle your diabetes, and your parental unit will get better with you.  But be warned; they will not completely leave you alone on the subject.  In fact, as I sit here and type this and stare longingly at that caramel-filled rabbit, my mother nonchalantly suggested that I only eat half and save the rest for tomorrow.

Sigh.  Mother, one does not simply eat half of a chocolate bunny. (I also feel the need to point out that every time I've tried to spell 'chololate' in this blog, I've gotten it wrong and had to auto-correct it.  Maybe I can get it right by the end of this).

Anyway, I suppose what I mean to say is that easter is not the end of the world.  In all honesty, if you bolus/do an injection ahead of time, and your blood sugar's good, why shouldn't you get a little indulgence.  It's a special occasion after all.  But if you just down a few pieces of chocolate with no insulin (which I will admit I've been guilty of in the past), you're almost guaranteeing some trouble.  And trust me, the feeling of high blood sugar with only sweets in your stomach is not worth it, no matter how good you think it'll be.

On that note, I think that pretty much wraps up this entry.  So I'm off to help with dinner, chill out with my family, and hopefully not get stuck with dishes.  And I feel better knowing my mind is powerful enough to withstand the temptations brought on by a little molded piece of chocolate (hey; I spelt it right!)...with caramel...and peanuts.....and my blood sugar is 157...

Maybe just a bite...