Friday, July 29, 2016

Stupid Girl

I’ve been abit behind in trying to blog lately … life has got abit crazy and if you follow me on some of the sites I post at … you’ll know why … with my DH aka Mr. Evel Knievel‘s wipe out on my D-anniversary motorcycle I’ve had for abit (it’s repairable … and luckily … he is repairing too with 3 broken ribs and stitches to the face).  It was scary the first 24 hours, watching the monitors, and him being out of it.  I basically broke down 48 hours afterwards due to  lack of sleep, food and just the fact I could have lost my husband, I was exhausted and needed a Calgon moment (hasn't happened yet). 

Taking someone to ER is scary, especially when it’s someone you love.  I’ve only been rushed to ER once in my life, when I was 13, and in DKA … at that point I was in and out of comatose state for a few days, while my body fought to regain control.  Yes, I was a really really #badass with my diabetes as a teenager.  I often hear of other diabetics being Frequent Flyers at the ER, but even in worst case scenarios (e.g. when I had a bad experience while sailing a few years ago) … I sort things out.  I hate hospitals with a passion, and even more so when it comes to surgical procedures that require me to put myself in someone else’s hands, and my diabetes control is temporarily out of kilter.

This is now where I finally explain Part Deux of what occurred with a recent colonoscopy that I had at a local hospital.  If you haven’t yet read it yet (how could you not have already – shame, shame) and wonder why I’ve entitled my blog this way … go to this link  to play catch up.

Do ya like my tush twinkle?
The day after having my colonoscopy done a few weeks I had my 3 month endo appointment.  Due to not being able to think properly, I had my DH drive and accompany me to the appointment (the hospital had told me 24 hours after the procedure not to operate any machinery or drive).   I needed his arm to support me for walking /  thinking and probably should have had him help with my infusion change the day before ( it seemed to take forever because I was so out of it and I’ve really got to show my DH how to perform this duty if I’m ever in this situation again).

As I’m trying my best to stay “ with it “ during my appointment, my DH is talking for me to help explain the situation.   I know at some point I tell the endo that I kept my insulin pump on, and that I’d told a fib about reducing the basal.

My endo basically slapped me in the face for my stupidity

Okay, she didn’t really “slap me”, since I only see her face on a screen since she lives 100 km away, but she was not happy with me.  Her reason for calling me stupid?   Well, I think after reading what she said, you may come to the same conclusion … I was plain stupid and taking a risk with my life not just with the colonoscopy but previous surgery that I’d had a long overdue repair on my knee for a meniscus tear (it couldn’t be saved).

She explained to me,  " what would have happened if by accident the surgeon had perforated my colon, and what is a simple 10 minute procedure could have lasted an hour or two "?  Meanwhile, unknown to the surgeon or RN’s, my pump is still running full throttle with basal not having been reduced as I told them.  What if the pump had started to do something wonky?  She admits that not many surgeons or RN’s understand pump technology … and even if they did … a mistake could happen, since I am the one responsible for how it is run. 

I of course went on about how the surgery I’d had almost a year ago where my blood sugars had zoomed up to 22 mmol/l after what was supposed to be a 1 hour surgery became 5 hours.  No insulin had been in the drip (they no longer do this) … you can read that blog at this link if you’re interested. 

I found out she has a Type 1 diabetic brother (still on MDI) and that if he was on a pump she would NOT have him wearing it during surgery.  She would rather see him go high then low; since it can be more easily corrected then if he went low  (I can hear a few of you making some noises at her statement).  And as my DH pointed out to my endo that after the hysterectomy surgery last year, he was there advising them how much insulin to give to me to bring me down since I was semi-conscious at the time and was trying to tell the RN's the same thing.  So it wasn’t like I was in exact danger of going into DKA, though I could have gone into hypoglycemic mode if he’d not told them at the time to not give 10 units of rapid insulin … I would have crashed with that amount since I’m still sensitive to insulin after ½ a century of being diabetic. 

I’d never really looked at it her way before.  Of the what if’s ….

I then told her how just a month previous to the colonoscopy that an anesthesiologist (Dr. McDreamy aka Dr. Cook in reality) had actually allowed me to wear my pump (after I showed him how to shut it off if my CGM started to go alarm I was going low).  It was so nice waking up after that surgery with perfect blood sugars, and feeling like I could leap over tall buildings  (well – not quite exactly like Superman) 

Ohh, ohh, another virtual slap (this is started to sting abit)

Once again, she explained all that could have gone wrong, and I actually began to see where she was coming from.  She even said that if I had one of the CDE’s beside me, watching things, it still is dangerous, that they may make an error despite all the knowledge that they may have, they are not YOU! 

It really made me face reality with what could/can occur during even the simplest procedure, while you are out flat on your back.  In future, I will rethink my control freakiness to have the perfect blood sugar during and after a surgical procedure (I’m hoping to not have another one for many years … well … at least 5 more years until my next colonoscopy).

So I've now come to the conclusion that MDI will be my future way to go … and know that even if I do spike high in my blood sugars, that I’ll be okay. 

I'm no longer a Stupid Girl 

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

I want you to have a great colonoscopy

On July 4th (no fireworks that day, sorry I'm Canadian) I finally got around to my 2nd colonoscopy (I have them done due to my Dad having colon cancer).  My previous one that was done back in Quebec was an easy process, with doing that usual day before clean out, liquid diet (yes, beer counts as it’s a clear liquid).  When it was done (I wasn't on the pump then just my "poor man's pump" ), I was hooked up to an IV with a slow drip of insulin, no sedation, and got to watch the whole show of my squeaky clean A-hole on a screen.  Easy peasy – though they wouldn’t give me a copy of the video to share with friends on the big screen as we all ate popcorn!  I remember being so hungry, that a greasy breakfast was a must for me, and I was able to resume back to work the next day.

When I’d left Quebec last summer, I was still waiting to be called up for my 2nd colonoscopy which already was going into year 3.  Ontario seems to be alot better with wait times as I was referred  after going to a local walk-in clinic.  Night and day over Quebec health care system where the waiting game can go on for years.

This time, totally different, starting with the prep the day before.  It was a day of not being  actually able to work, despite sitting on my behind for the majority of one of my jobs I do.  Perhaps due to being a wee bit younger last time, what I'd used to "process" the goop out of me, who knows.  All I could do the day before was be a slug and I now understand why people don't like the prep bit - I feel for you all now.

The other difference this time, I was to be sedated aka " conscious sedation ".  I was told that I could not wear my insulin pump for this 10 minute procedure – but to give ½ my usual dose that AM (this was stated on the hospital form – obviously insulin pumps haven’t been updated onto the form).  I had planned on just giving a unit of rapid insulin in my pump, and then disengaging, but with some of the comments on my Facebook posts of how they'd kept them on during this procedure,  I convinced the RN that by lowering my basal rate of my pump by 50% things would all be good.  I decided at the last minute though, with my blood sugar showing 7.1 mmol/dl / 128 mg/dl – that I’d leave it be, and not reduce the basal.

I didn’t tell them this …

After a weigh in, that I insisted on them doing since they asked me what my weight was, and I told them I really didn’t know  (they wanted me to guess … it’s like … WTF?).  I found I'd lost 15 pounds (maybe the previous day of fasting helped shed some?) - and now I understand why my pants keep on falling down.  I figured the amount of sedation would be based on my weight (I have later found out since, that there is a limit to how much they give a patient (Versed and Fentanyl were used on me). 

Then came the " let’s find a juicy vein ".  Two RN's tried to find one in my forearm (and they're commenting on how tough my skin is … hello … diabetic of ½ a century … we have tough skin). They give up despite my saying my hand is the best bet but the clock is ticking for the next patient to be processed and they're understaffed.

So, it’s wheel the patient, moi, into the OR.  Where the doctor takes over in the game of finding a vein in my hand, and even better, he uses a butterfly needle, which just glides into that juicy plump vein in my hand (I sound like a junkie don’t I? LOL).   Then its lights out, night night Pussy Cat … despite being told by RN that I would be awake during the procedure.  No watching the screen like  the classic 1960's movie The Fantastic Voyage  ... I'm out ... cold ... no seeing the bowels of the Earth.

I awoke, wondering WTF, ½ an hour had passed since being wheeled in, and I was being asked if I wanted any biscuits and water.  It’s like, yes please.  Sadly, within 5 minutes, I was trying to be polite about requesting a … fetch me a bucket Garcon … and just about hopped out of the bed to go searching.  At that point, after the hurl session or two,  the RN brought me my clothing and I wobbly got dressed, texted my DH to come and fetch me.  I'm still amazed how I  managed to get myself out the right door to where he picked me up, I was that out of it and wondered why no one was asking if I needed a wheel chair.  For the next 3 days that was how I was, the effects of the sedation making me feel like I was having a hangover from Hell going between hurling, coldness, nonstop sleeping, and eating was a chore, but wait … this isn’t the end of the story yet of my anal probe.

Are you wondering about the highlighted bit above “I didn’t tell them this …”?

Stay tuned for the 2nd part of this blog, and be ready to be as surprised as I was …

Psst,  remember, if you don't follow me on Blogger, maybe now's the time to get cracking ... so you can keep up with my occasional blogs that come forth from my sponge brain!!!  I always aim to make them both educational and entertaining!