Lora In Life

Tweeting!))

I had a birthday in there somewhere about a week and a half ago, which was nice. Lovely, lovely dinner at a fabulous restaurant, some new shoes, pretty flowers.

And with all the rushing and moving and shaking, you'd think I'd be completely out of whack in terms of sugars and numbers. And yet, I haven't. Granted, I'm not testing as often as I should be, but there were a few days in there I actually thought my meter was broken--it continually said 110 no matter what I ate or how much insulin I did or did not give myself. It wasn't until I got cocky and ate a caramel apple and a Pop Tart without bolusing and hit a high that I got that not-so-subtle reminder to shoot, baby, shoot.

(Sidebar on Pop Tart: I haven't eaten them in years, but have been craving them as of late. I've discovered the 7-11 across from my parking space for work makes awesome hot chocolate that doesn't trick my sugars, and oh yeah, they have Pop Tarts sitting right next to the hot chocolate. I caved. Good news, though, as long as I remember to actually give myself insulin, I can totally eat them. Also, if I don't mind absolutely no nutrition value whatsoever and massive calories...)

(Sidebar on Caramel Apple: Love, love, love them. Only eat them once a year when they're in season. My office building gave them out to all the offices. I had three (over a period of multiple days). Fall is officially fall because of this indulgence, and it wouldn't have been officially fall otherwise, regardless of how many pretty leaves are now clogging my new gutters.

My biggest diabetes news is that I've finally broken the virgin seal of clothing. (I could make that sound less... and more..., but it's more fun this way.) For those of you who've been doing this for a while, it's no biggie, and Kelly K2 told me it was just a matter of time before I'd be doing it, but the first time I did it, I felt like quite the daredevil.

Yes, I've been shooting insulin through my clothes.

It's heading into cold-weather territory in Chicago, which means layers. Which means I'm not pulling down my tights every time I want to shoot in my thigh. I still have tiny fears that microscopic clothing fibers will wind up in the pin-prick wound, but I'm slowly dissolving those, since it hasn't happened yet.

I could write more, since I seem to be in a babble mood as opposed to a change-the-sheets kind of mood, but I think I'll end here and try to whittle that 2.6 million to 2.5 million. But I'll end it with five things making me happy right this minute, thereby making all the other flotsam a little less daunting...

1. The Bears won today (closet football fan).
2. I carved out time to carve pumpkins and the two jack o' lanterns flickering in my living room are very cool, even if I do say so myself.
3. Molly (one of above mentioned dogs) is asleep across my feet, keeping them warm. She's dreaming, and I believe she's almost caught that squirrel...
4. It's only 4:30. You wouldn't think that extra hour from Daylight Savings Time would have that big of an impact, but it does. 60 extra minutes is 60 extra minutes.
5. My husband fell asleep on the couch, so now I get to take over the remote control.

As always, more to come (sporadically, perhaps, but coming)...